#Kiss | Snow and Emma

[a-happy-beginning]

You found us.

—Mary Margaret, Once Upon a Time, “Broken”

[romancemedia]

Anime Romances + Taking Care of Sick and Injured Loved Ones

[thepunkmuppet]

one thing that’s disappointing about once upon a time is that I ship swan queen but I still fucking LOVE killian, and there’s no one else to ship him with. I need a homoerotic mlm killian jones ship to latch onto and the writers didn’t do it because in the age of superwholock and sterek they knew it would be too powerful

[kazoosandfannypacks]

"Last Chance" by kazoosandfannypacks

Pairing: Captain Swan Rating: General Word Count: 1K Summary: Killian had been hoping to tell Emma about his feelings for her at some point this Christmas break, as their friends visited with her brother. As the holiday came and went, Killian feared he may have missed his chance. Fortunately for him, one last Christmas decoration has yet to be put away- and it may be just what they need to break the ice. Tags: au, fluff, captain swan, one shot, modern au, christmas, snowing, first kiss, oneshot, college au Author's notes: This one's based on a prompt that @everything-person sent to the discord a while back! It was probably jsut after Christmas when it was sent, and I wrote it not long after that, but it sat in my drafts for a while. After a poll revealed y'all wouldn't mind a Christmas fic in May, I've decided today would be an awesome day to post it. I hope you guys enjoy it! Shoutout to @booksteaandtoomuchtv for betaing! Taglist:@zahara@kmomof4@jonesfandomfanatic@booksteaandtoomuchtv@jrob64@tiganasummertree@anmylica@teamhook@undercaffinatednightmare@gingerchangeling@lonelyspectator@caught-in-the-filter  @ultraluckycatnd  @cs-rylie @silver-the-phoenix @pawshapedheart  [if you’d like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!] Also on Ao3!

 Killian smiled at Emma across the room as she took down the decorations on the tree, just like he'd smiled at her when she'd helped put them up, and like he'd smiled at her when they'd helped her sister-in-law make cutout cookies, and when they'd all gone caroling and got hot chocolate afterwards, and when they exchanged gifts on Christmas morning, and when they all sat down for a Christmas dinner- and really, like he'd been smiling at her since the day he met her at a campus-wide fall festival- one that he'd almost decided not to attend; one that she'd've skipped out on if her friends hadn't dragged her along.

 But how fortunate was he that he'd gone, and that he'd somehow fallen in with her friend group there, and how readily they invited him to join them at various activities afterwards. Already they'd celebrated a few birthdays together, set up a trunk for trunk-or-treat, gone on a few hikes- and now they'd even celebrated Christmas together.

 It really was kind of Emma's brother to invite him and some of their other friends to stay over the week for Christmas. It was nice to get away from the dorms for a bit to celebrate a small town Christmas.

 It also would've been the perfect opportunity for Killian to tell Emma how he felt about her. Christmas magic in the air, blanket of snow across the town, the lights, the excitement, the merriment, the wonder- but as Killian helped her brother, David, take down the last string of Christmas lights, he realized he'd probably missed his chance at a Christmas miracle. Tomorrow they'd head back to school, back to classes and teachers and homework- back to normal.

 And, unfortunately for Killian, his normal life only involved liking Emma from a distance.

 "And it looks like another family- and friends- Christmas is officially in the books." David said, wrapping up the last string of lights.

 "Thanks for having us," Killian said.

 "Our pleasure," David said, "the more the merrier."

 "Allow me," Killian said, taking the string of lights from David, "you've already done more than enough for us."

 "Alright."

 A bright green tote labeled "XMAS LIGHTS" sat just between this room and the living room- where Emma had been taking the last of the decorations off the tree. Killian wondered if he could steal another glance at Emma without anyone noticing, but his glance revealed she was coming that way, with a string of lights of her own to put away.

 "Here," Killian said, walking past the tote to take the string of lights from her.

 "I can get it," she said, holding out the string of lights at arms length away from him.

 "It's really no trouble at all," Killian said. He stood in the doorway between her and the box of lights, and when she tried to walk past him, he sidestepped into her path. She tried again, and he blocked her again, and again, and the same result.

 She sighed as she handed him the bundle of lights. "You really are taking the fun out of this."

 "Am I?" Killian asked with a smug smile.

 Mary Margaret interrupted their conversation to yell something past them both, to David.

 "Oh, David! We still need to take the mistletoe down too!"

 Killian knew which doorway the mistletoe hung in almost too well- he'd seen David catch his wife standing there a few too many times- and it happened to be the very same doorway that Killian and Emma were now standing under.

 "No," Emma said, "I already…."

 She looked up at the ceiling almost confused, like she hadn't expected the mistletoe to be right where it had been for the last two weeks, so much so Killian almost didn't expect it to be there either. But Killian looked up too, and sure enough, there was the mistletoe, right above himself and Emma Swan.

 "This is almost too good to be true," Killian thought. Fate had given him one last chance at a Christmas miracle.

 "I thought I took that down," Emma said.

 Killian swallowed the lump in his throat- it was now or never.

 "Swan?"

 "Yeah?"

 "We're under the mistletoe," he said, trying not to chicken out as her eyes met his, "and there's this tradition…."

 "Do Christmas traditions still count after New Year's?" Emma asked.

 "I sure hope so." Killian thought.

 "The last chance of the season," he said, "may I?"

 Emma smiled and nodded, and Killian's heart skipped a beat as she said, "Yeah."

 He closed his eyes and leaned forward, meeting her lips with his for the most perfect moment of his life. Her lips touching his was like a meteor shower, or a firework- beautiful, entrancing, dangerous- and done and over with way too soon. He pulled away, smiling, wishing he could've made that moment last longer, but not wanting to push her further than she was willing to go.

 He thought his heart was beating so loud she could probably hear it, but realized instead that the sound was their friends clapping. He didn't turn to look at them though- in that moment, all he wanted to see was Emma.

 "Is that the best you got?" Emma asked.

 "What?" Killian asked.

 "It's like you said," Emma said, taking from his hands the bundles of lights that had gotten them into this beautiful mess in the first place. She threw them aside, probably landing them somewhere near the tote they belonged in.

 "What?"

 "'Last chance of the season-'" she said, "might as well make it a good one."

 She placed her hands on his neck, stood up on tiptoes so her lips were parallel with his, then whispered, "May I?"

 Killian couldn't get out much more than a nod and a breath that sounded almost like a "yeah," not even seeing this moment coming in his wildest daydreams- Emma Swan asking to kiss him.

 She slid her hands down to his collar and pulled him closer, drawing his lips down into hers in a kiss that blew the last one out of the water.

 He placed his hands on her waist, trying to experience everything he could in this moment- his lips exploring hers, her body in his hands, the lingering taste of gingerbread in her breath, a subtle pine smell, her warmth- holding her closer than he'd ever dared dream she'd let him. He was so lost in the moment he didn't even hear their friends cheering around him as he wrapped one of his hands further around her side, resting her neck in his other, pulling her into a dip and holding her as tightly as he could, pulling her even closer as he kissed her.

 For the past three months he'd been watching her from a distance, wishing he could tell her how much she meant to him, wishing he could even just take her hand, ask her to get coffee, hold her at a dance, walk her back to her dorm and kiss her goodnight. And now that he had her in his arms and had her lips on his, he had three months of catching up to do, and one kiss to do it in. Every moment spent pining from a distance equalled another ounce of passion and love he needed to communicate in this kiss.

 But as all good things have to, this kiss came to an end. Emma pulled away, her hands still on his neck, her eyes still sparkling in reflection of his, her breath still lingering on his lips. They both breathed heavily, still lost in their own little world a moment longer, until he gently stood her upright again.

 "Wow," he whispered, hoping his voice wouldn't be drowned out by the cheering of her friends around them. "Swan, that was…."

 "I know," Emma whispered, a look in her eyes that said it still wasn't nearly enough.

 But she shook her head and blinked back to reality, and he as well noticed the crowd of spectators around them. Then he looked back down to Emma, her cheeks flushed with the most perfect shade of red he'd seen that whole Christmas season.

 She smiled as she let go of him, albeit a bit awkwardly, and he watched her walk away from him, not taking his eyes off her until she'd walked out the back door and disappeared from view. The rest of the group, apparently, had decided the show was over and got back to whatever they'd been doing before Killian's life changed forever like that.

Killian ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, leaning against the doorway to brace himself and his thoughts. He'd just kissed Emma Swan. He'd practically made out with her- and if he could do that, what was stopping him from finding a moment with her later, telling her how he felt, asking her if she wanted him to be something more to her.

 He smiled as he took down that fateful mistletoe plant, now filled with hope that maybe things wouldn't be so normal when they got back to school- or maybe normal would be something even better now.

 Maybe he hadn't missed his chance with Emma after all.

[tangledstarlight]

been watching a lot of once upon a time so naturally my brain is going ‘okay this but make it ✨juke✨’ and honestly i’m just happy to see my brain still does this after 2 years lmoa

[familyvideostevie]

clocking at the girl-doesn’t-want-to-go-out-tonight-but-is-going-to-make-herself-go factory

[altairring]

it's officially hallmark christmas movie season in my country which means im getting ads for them everywhere. which made me remember my hilarious revelation from last year that silvio / emma / rio can be fit almost perfectly into the 'rich and kind of asshole big city boyfriend'/'career driven but kind and independent woman'/ 'small town sweetheart' christmas movie archetypes

to be completely honest, the only christmas movie i know by heart is the first two Home Alone movies HAHA

bUT YOU ARE CORRECT!! those archetypes fit them so well and you got me freaking daydreaming about it the moment i saw this in my inbox.

particularly...rioemma

oh, you made my brain rot fURTHERRRR. but i shan't. ill keep my mouth shut.

silvio / emma / rio is a good trio for me. i like thinking about them ...be it their relationship purely platonic/familial. or one of the riccis got together with emma. their dynamic is just too good...

hihi, if they're in a typical Christmas movie. i would watch it.

[emmagail-brainrot]

Thought I moved past my Pricefield phase, but alas it turns out it simply went dormant until I saw these two gay bitches 5 mins into starting The Quarry.

[ace-with--a-mace]

once upon a time has the same vibes as glee

[huntvir]

mmm the fact that the huntsman lost his heart in place of the one he didn't take from snow not once, but twice . . .

[foulbearobservation]

Omg ouat red!! Different anon here but don’t be sorry for saying it, before the show ran off the rails the early stuff actually had such interesting vibes yaknow. And that s1 red episode 👀 the intertwining storylines, the dark-surreal atmosphere, the leadup to that end… yeah that’s my guilty pleasure twisted fairytale u are so right for the camilith werewolf comparison i see it i see it

YEAH. Justice for my girl Ruby Lucas, I wish she got to kiss girls earlier into the series and also got to kiss girls more interesting than Dorothy 😭😭😭

[a-happy-beginning]

Did it mean anything?

—Mary Margaret, Once Upon a Time, “Ariel”

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader 🎄 @glitterypirateduck’s December challenge: O Christmas Tree

"What about this one?"

You're standing next to a giant tree, one that's probably double your height. "It's a little big but-"

"I don't know if that will fit in your flat, sweetheart." You huff, hands on your hips, and Emmaline wiggles where she's snuggled against him, tucked up on his chest inside his arms. You've got her in some sort of snow suit, like a baby marshmallow, capped with a red knit hat that ties under chin to keep the ear flaps down, and even though she clearly hates it, and looks a little ridiculous, he knows the whole thing is keeping her warm in tonight's frigid weather.

"Okay. What about this one?" The one you're pointing to now is smaller, but sparse, a little prickly looking. He shakes his head. "You don't like any of them!" You protest, and Emma grunts, babbling some sort of nonsense.

"'m just doing what the boss here is telling me to do." She looks up at him, eyes bright with a little bit of snot beneath her nose, and he wipes it away with his thumb. "There you go, baby girl. I gotcha."

"She's not the boss." You step close with a shiver, close enough that he can see the fog of your breath, peek of your neck beneath your scarf, and he reaches out to pad his fingertips across your chilled cheek.

"Cold?" You shrug.

"A little." You dip forward to give Emma a quick kiss on the cheek, and at the same time, he ducks down, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. He's never going to get used to this. Never. Even now, in this moment, he can't believe he's walking a tree lot with you, debating which one to choose. Him. Simon Ghost Riley, picking out a Yule tree with you and the baby. His family.

There's a bang in the street. A car backfiring, probably, but it's enough that it startles someone else on the lot, and they shout, the combination like a shot of adrenaline to his heart, focus and intensity taking over, his movements shifting to autopilot. His hand covers Emma's head, curling forward at the same as he tugs you into his body with a firm arm around your back, essentially immobilizing you, keeping you close in case- "Simon." You say his name softly, gently, fingers holding onto his forearm. The touch grounds him, reminds him to breathe, and he relaxes slightly. "It's alright. We're okay, we're at the Christmas tree place. You're okay. You're with us." With you. With you and Emmaline. At home. He closes his eyes, repeating it in his mind, twice, three times, for good measure, before he trusts enough to uncover the baby's head and let go of you completely. You smile when he does, bright, beautiful, sweet, still working you touch against his arm, not stepping away.

"I'm sorry." He tries to explain, but you shake it off.

"Don't be. It's okay." You loop your arm through his, sticking close to his side. "Want to keep looking?" You ask, nonchalant, and he's overcome with emotion so strong it could bring him to his knees.

"Yeah, but I... I want..." he stumbles over it, words failing, and you wait, patiently, turning into him so you can look up at his face.

"What is it?" Holiday lights glow behind you, twinkling colors mixed with frosted whites, strung together across trees and posts and big red and green signs, 'O Christmas Tree' playing over the speakers that line the perimeter. He's never been one for holidays, never really cared about any of it, all the excitement lost on him, most of the celebrated days spent alone. But now... with you, with the baby, he feels the magic. He thinks he can even see it, in you, in Emmaline, and he's filled to the brim with the wonder, the anticipation for it all, to experience it all for the first time like this, with his angels.

"I want to kiss you." He says the same words he gave you a week ago, outside on the balcony, and you give you him the same smile, warm and welcoming, lips curling upwards with happiness.

"Please." You beam, and he obliges, your lips parting for his, getting lost in the taste of your mouth, decadent honey dripping across his tongue. You make him dizzy, make him stupid, make him so weak for you, and all he wants is more. He wants it all, wants everything you'd give him, and he has to hold himself back, cognizant of Emma in his arms, pulling away regretfully after five seconds that could last five hours, or days. Years. You clear your throat. "Well, okay, uh- should we?" You motion to another row of trees, and he nods with a laugh.

"We should."

Later, after the tree has been decorated, dinner has been made and cleaned up, fire started in the fireplace, Emmaline has had her bath, and you've changed into your pajamas, he sits on your couch with you curled into his side, both you and the baby asleep. It's late, and the lights are out, and he thinks he probably should have woken you to get you both up into bed, but he can't bring himself to shatter the moment, the silence, the fire, and the sounds of your breathing, face barely illuminated by the glow of the lights. He stays right there, listening to the crackle of the logs, staring at the tree, watching the two of you breathe, heart so full he thinks it could explode. This is it, he thinks. This is the magic.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Flag III

Frida Maanum x Emma Lennartsson x Baby!Reader

Summary: When Emma and Frida found you

Frida is leaving for England.

Arsenal have been interested in her since the season began so it was only natural that she went off there to develop her career further.

But, still, Emma doesn't want to see Frida leave.

Frida occupies a space in Emma's heart that she can't put into words. Frida is everything to her, the air, the ground, the sky and the stars.

But Emma would never discourage Frida from finding her place in a league abroad.

Frida deserves everything in life, even if it's half a world away from where Emma is looking after their home in Sweden.

It will be different in the beginning, Emma knows this, but together there isn't much they can't overcome.

But, still, she'll miss the way Frida's body feels against hers. Even now, as they sneak around the back of the training centre to kiss.

It's not the most professional they've ever been but she just can't help herself when it comes to Frida.

"E-Emma," Frida says in a hushed tone, pushing Emma's roaming lips from her neck," Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Emma pulls away, glancing around for whatever errant sound Frida has heard.

"I..."

There's nothing but the breeze in the wind, the rustle of leafless branches in the height of winter.

It's absolutely freezing. It's predicted that this is to be the coldest day of the year.

"Nothing," Frida says," I must have imagined it."

Emma's lips go back to her neck, leaving dainty kisses all over her skin. Each one a labour of love, red hot in a way that feels beautiful as the snow falls around them.

Emma stops though, pulling away again.

"No," She says," Wait. I think I can hear it too."

It's faint, barely audible whimpers and whines that are getting more and more quiet as they go on.

But Emma and Frida are alone in an icy cold wasteland.

There's not even birds in the trees. Yet, now that Emma's straining her ears, she can hear the noises with crystal clear clarity.

She shivers as another freezing breeze cuts through her like a knife.

"I...I think it's coming from over there," Frida says, looking over at the clump of dense bushes over by the bins.

"Stay here," Emma says, wary of if it's some wild animal," I'll go and luck."

"Emma-"

"Stay here, Frida. I'll check it out."

She approaches the bushes carefully, slowly in case the animal jumps at her.

But there's no animal.

Just you.

"Emma?" Frida calls, watching as Emma lowers herself to her knees," What is it?"

Emma turns, a singular blanket in her hold and, in that blanket, is you.

"I...I think we need to call an ambulance," She says shakily," I-I think she's been abandoned."

You're tiny, smaller than any baby that Frida's ever seen before. You don't look good either. You're obviously freezing, little lips turning a concerning shade of purple and the cries from your mouth are getting quieter and quieter the longer you're outside.

Teammates clamber over themselves to help when Emma and Frida run in with you.

Somewhere along the way, Frida loses her top when it's clear that you're either nearly hypothermic or already developing it. Skin-to-skin seems to be what's best for you as you lay weakly on Frida's chest with layers of blankets over you both.

Now that she can see you properly, it's with a sinking feeling that she realises how underweight you actually are. You're nothing but skin and bones as Frida holds you close while they wait for the ambulance.

"They're calling her the Linköping baby," Emma says softly," The staff and the girls, that is. Word has spread pretty quickly."

"That's unfair," Frida replies, her own voice barely above a whisper as she feels your lungs inflate shakily against her," They can't call her that. She needs a name."

"They don't think she's going to survive," Emma says," Even before the ambulance gets here. She's in bad shape. They don't think she's going to make it."

"And you?" Frida finally tears her eyes away from you to look at her girlfriend. "What do you think?"

"I think..."

Your head barely pokes out from under all of the blankets, your eyes half open. You're not moving much. It seems to almost be too much effort to even breath, like everything in you is fighting to do something as basic and instinctual as that.

Emma didn't know what to expect when she looked in that bush. You were laying there, weak and unmoving in just a singular blanket and a thin onesie. One could almost mistake you for being asleep if it weren't from the stilted way your chest rose and fell and the way faint noises would escape your mouth every so often.

"I think...I think she's a fighter."

"I think so too."

Emma can tell what Frida's thinking before Frida herself even knows what she's thinking. She can tell by the way Frida's holding, you the way she's looking at you, the way she presses a soft kiss to the wispy hair at the top of your head.

Emma can tell because she's thinking the exact same thing.

"She looks like you," Emma says, starting off gently," Don't you think?"

Frida giggles a little bit. "I was thinking she had your nose. What part of her looks like me exactly?"

"Her hair, maybe," Emma says," And I'm sure once she opens this eyes of hers, they'll be like yours."

"You don't know that."

"I think I do."

"She might never open them," Frida says suddenly," If everyone is thinking she won't come out of this. They might never open."

"She will. She's a fighter."

Frida's throat bobs. "But if she doesn't...What would they even put on her grave? The Linköping baby?"

"You want to name her?"

"Everyone deserves a name. No matter how little they are."

"Then name her."

"I-"

"Ambulance is here," One of their teammates pokes their heads through the door," Medics are coming in now. They said to stay put."

"Y/N," Frida says suddenly.

"Huh?" Emma asks.

"She looks like a y/n."

You're tiny and malnourished and halfway to death's door. The possibility of you surviving the night is astronomically low.

But you have a name now and, in Emma's mind, you have a bedroom at home. A bedroom with a soft, warm crib and a dog companion who would just adore you. A bedroom in a house full of toys and soft clothes and two mothers who would adore you too.

A first name and a last name from the mothers who found you freezing cold in the dead of winter, buried in a bush as snow fell over you.

"Yeah," Emma says as the paramedics rush in," She does."

[heliads]

Can you do Peter Pan x reader OUAT? Peter goes to the modern world with Emma, Snow, David and them as they are looking for someone. He meets this girl and takes an interest to her. He’s never seen someone with facial piercings, and dyed hair before, they come to realize she is the girl they’ve been looking for.

'magic finds magic' - peter pan

masterlist

Peter Pan is leaving Neverland. Worse, he’s leaving Neverland alongside Snow, Emma, David, and Hook. In terms of traveling partners, this has got to be the lowest of the low. However, the sand in Peter’s immortal hourglass is running out, and his first attempt at prolonging his life with the heart of Henry Mills didn’t exactly go according to plan. It’s this or nothing, even though Peter is starting to wonder if it would be better to just die than put up with these people any longer.

Never in his life did Peter Pan think he’d be working with the good guys. But never in his life did Peter think he’d be dying, either. A few compromises will have to be made in the name of preserving Peter’s everlasting life, and if that means he has to put up with some princesses and pirates for a few days, so be it. In no time at all, his immortal life will be restored, and he can go back to Neverland and put all of this behind him. Hopefully.

Peter was supposed to die back on Neverland. He was running out of time, anyway. He had set up the perfect scheme:  kidnap Henry, disorient the boy’s rescuers on his island long enough to win the Heart of the Truest Believer, and cut the organ out of the boy’s chest if necessary. He’d almost gotten away with it, too, except he was foiled at the last minute. Heartbreaking. So unlike him.

For some reason, though, he hadn’t been left to die in the caverns of Skull Rock. Emma and the others had needed him, for some odd reason, and although none of them trust him in the slightest, they do trust Peter’s single-minded selfishness to keep himself alive. So they claim, at least, and so they had gotten a spell to give Peter one more week of life in exchange for help. If this plan works out, Peter will have a way to continue his immortal life without needing to murder Henry. If it doesn’t, or if he betrays them, he’ll die anyway.

He can feel it now, the pang of his close call with death. There’s a pain in his chest that wasn’t there before, a certain weakness in his lungs. Peter gets tired more easily. He feels– well, he feels like Henry and Emma. He feels mortal. Like he could die at any moment.

Peter has, obviously, thought about double-crossing them, maybe even triple-crossing them, but it’s no use. He feels shakily mortal right now, and Peter does not much enjoy the possibility of his own demise. This is the closest he’s ever come to being beaten, and Peter hates the feeling. He’ll have to play along for now, but after that, he will have his revenge.

First, though, Peter has to do what the others want. They’ve been careful to reveal as few details to him as possible, but the idea is solid. There’s a magical person somewhere in the modern world, in a city far from Storybrooke. This person is like the embodiment of a true love’s kiss spell, designed to renew hope in storybook characters through small acts of power that ultimately drive two needed people together. They’re like a guardian angel of those on the brink of destruction, which is exactly what Peter needs right now.

Peter has plenty of time to mull this over. They’ve forced him into a terrible, small room with awful carpets– an apartment, Emma called it– while they talk out what to do with both him and their missing spell-person. Peter is trying to focus, but he’s getting stared at by Henry Mills again, which is absolutely ruining his mood.

“What do you want?” Peter asks, glaring at the boy.

Henry just goggles back at him. “Don’t you feel bad for trying to kill me?”

Peter snorts. “Why would I do that?”

Henry shrugs. “You pretended you were my friend. I know you like the other Lost Boys on your island, I thought you would have felt bad for killing one of them. I guess not.”

“I don’t feel bad about killing someone so I would live,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s arguing with a child. “Go preach your morals to someone who wants to listen.”

“The others are busy,” Henry pouts.

Peter eyes him unhappily. “And what, I’m your best option for polite conversation? You really are desperate, aren’t you?”

Henry rolls his eyes. “I’d say you’re desperate. You’re the one who’s still talking to me.”

Peter can’t really argue with that, so he deftly changes the topic of conversation before Henry starts looking proud of himself again. “Tell me about our target again. You said you saw them before?”

“Only in a dream,” Henry admits, “but it was a clear dream, I swear. I saw a girl who looked about your age. She seemed like any other teenager, but there was something about her that was different. The way she spoke, maybe, or the glint in her eyes. She was magical, I’m sure of it. She can save Storybrooke.”

“And save me,” Peter reminds him. “That’s the important part.”

Henry rolls his eyes again. If he keeps that up, they’re going to get stuck like that forever. “Yes, I know, you’re only interested in keeping yourself alive. So long as it helps us find this girl, though, I don’t care.”

Peter leans forward. “What’s your plan for finding this girl, then? A little scouting party? This city is big. You’ll never find her.”

Henry shakes his head. “Magic has a way of finding magic. Somehow, our paths will cross.”

“That’s a terrible strategy,” Peter grouses. Why is he entrusting his life to this boy again? He remembers something about having no other options, but it doesn’t seem as good an excuse right now.

“Ask the adults, then,” Henry tells him, and gestures towards the miniscule apartment kitchen, where Emma, Snow, Hook, and David are currently huddled around a table, talking in hushed voices about what to do.

Not wanting to mess with the kid anymore, Peter pulls himself to his feet and heads over. “Tell me you have a plan,” he says.

The adults look up at him. “Find the girl,” Hook says shortly. “That’s our plan.”

Peter scoffs. “You could search this city for months and not find her. What if she doesn’t want to be found? If this girl has any brains at all, she’ll know that people will want her magic and she’ll hide. It’s what I would do.”

Emma sighs. “We don’t even know if this girl knows that she has magic. She’s probably just living an ordinary life, and we’re about to drag her out of it with all of our trouble.”

“Don’t tell me you feel bad for her,” Peter scolds her. “You want this, don’t you? So go get it, or I will.”

Snow tries to tell him to calm down, but David, so quick to anger when it comes to Peter, surges out of his chair. “How about you do something helpful and think with us instead of just insulting us?”

“I will do something helpful,” Peter informs him. “I’ll find her first.”

With that, he lunges for the apartment door, and is out of the tiny room and down the hall before they can stop him. Peter hears the thunder of footsteps after him, but he hurries down the stairs and out of the building. He has the advantage of being quick on his feet; if Neverland taught him anything, it’s how to run when you don’t want to be found.

Peter emerges into the bright sunshine of the city and stops dead in his tracks. He’s not used to the modern world, how the knives of its buildings slash up into the sky, how loud it is with those cars and signs and people. Peter swears he can even see metal things in the sky, soaring along predestined paths. It’s all so much compared to the world he used to know. No wonder some of the others had a hard time adjusting. His mortal heart lets out a pang of sympathy.

The door of the apartment building flies open, revealing Emma and the others hot on his trail. Peter curses under his breath and takes off in one direction, hurtling around pedestrians and shooting down the sidewalk. He heads for smaller streets, hoping to lose them in a swarm of alleyways. The others, more used to the terrain of the modern city, are gaining on him, and Peter is just starting to think that he’ll never be able to shake them when someone grabs him and pulls him into a nearby building.

Peter’s first instinct is to defend himself, but when he isn’t attacked, he realizes that the stranger is only trying to help him. There’s a window just to his left, and Peter watches Emma and the others appear seconds after him. They didn’t see him enter the shop, and keep sprinting down the road in the direction they thought he’d gone. Peter waits a few more intense moments, then decides that he’s lost them for good and turns back around to see who’s gone to the trouble of rescuing him.

He’s greeted with the sight of a girl about his age. She’s eyeing him cautiously, although the corners of her lips begin to prick up with a wicked grin. “Sorry for the rough introduction, but you looked like you needed some help,” she tells him.

Peter lets out a short laugh. “I’m glad to be rid of them, that’s for sure.”

The girl arches a brow. “What, did they catch you shoplifting? I’ve never seen people run that fast unless they were getting chased by the cops.”

Peter narrows his eyes, trying to figure out how on earth he would lift a shop, then decides it’s probably some slang term he doesn’t know. “Something like that,” he says evasively.

He studies the girl’s face to see if he’d answered correctly, and, judging by her impressed grin, he had. “Nice,” she says. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Peter,” he replies. He gets the urge to introduce himself as he usually would– Peter, Peter Pan– then remembers at the last second that Emma had warned him about telling people who he was. Apparently, telling people he was a fictional character in their world wouldn’t go over too well.

“Peter,” the girl repeats. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Peter says, and realizes belatedly that he means it. He feels like how he had at the start of it all, when the Lost Boys had first started appearing on this island, but this feeling is far stronger. He wants to get to know this girl. He certainly doesn’t want her to leave.

“I’m new to the city,” he says abruptly. “Any chance you could show me around?”

Y/N laughs, surprised. “You’re new and you’re already in trouble? You’ll fit right in, Peter.”

He grins, in on the joke a half beat late. “I like to have fun, that’s all.”

“Well,” Y/N says, starting to lead him back towards the door of the shop, “I like fun, too. Maybe we should stick together.”

“I’d like that,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s being so honest all of a sudden. When he sees Y/N’s smile– real this time, not sarcastic or joking, but genuinely because of him– he thinks he knows why.

The two of them step back out into the light. “Where to first?” Peter asks.

“I was going to ask you that,” Y/N replies. “What do you want to do? Sightseeing, maybe? We can get some food, or just talk.”

“Anything,” he says. He’d follow her anywhere. The feeling in him right now is like nothing he’s ever felt before. The pain in his chest, Peter realizes with some surprise, is gone. He feels immortal. Like living in this one moment could last forever.

They end up spending the next few hours together. Y/N shows him around the city, taking Peter to her favorite spots. Peter stares at the vast cityscape and finally starts to understand why someone might choose the modern world over the natural one. He’ll always pick Neverland first, of course, but seeing the world through Y/N’s eyes, it makes sense.

The two of them get along like a house on fire. Y/N’s got this rebellious streak to her that fits in perfectly with Peter’s, well, Peter-ness. No joke is too dark, no sarcastic comment too caustic. They feel the same. Peter doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who thinks so much like him.

As the sun starts to set in the sky, Peter feels his spirits sinking. He doesn’t want to let go of this day, not when he knows it can never happen again. He’s supposed to be finding Henry’s spell-girl, but all Peter wants to do is spend more time with Y/N.

His mood is especially ruined when they turn a corner and find Henry Mills walking towards them. Peter’s eyes widen and he tries to steer Y/N back in the direction they’d come, but it’s too late. Henry lets out an audible gasp and starts hurrying towards them.

“Peter,” Henry calls out when he’s close enough to talk, “We’ve been looking for you all over! Where have you been?”

Y/N glances at Henry dubiously. “Who’s this?”

“My little brother,” Peter blurts out.

At the same time, Henry chimes in, “My friend from school.”

Peter shoots the younger boy a quick glare, then turns back to Y/N. “Both, actually. He’s my step-brother. Recent marriage. We’re still getting acclimated. Our family is a little chaotic.”

“You can say that again,” Henry mumbles. Peter fights the urge to butcher him.

While Peter silently advises himself on why murder would be bad at a time like this, Henry stares openly at Y/N. All of a sudden, the boy’s mouth hangs open. “Oh my gosh, it’s you.”

Y/N’s brow furrows. “Excuse me?”

All of a sudden, Peter feels a sick sensation in his stomach. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

“You’re the girl from my dream,” Henry announces. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Y/N looks back at Peter. “What’s he talking about?”

The open, carefree expression, which had been on her face all day, is starting to be replaced with deep, unsettled fear. Peter hates to see it directed at him. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he begins. “Something about yourself.”

“You’re sounding a little creepy right now,” Y/N warns him. “Get to the point.”

“Alright,” Peter says. “You’re magical. So am I. We need your help to break a curse and save my life. How about that?”

Y/N shakes her head quickly. “This is crazy. Magic isn’t real.”

Peter can’t lose her, not like this, so he leans forward and holds out his hand. A ball of light appears inside his cupped fingers, glowing and bright. It’s a simple charm, one of the first he learned, but it has the desired effect. 

Y/N stares at it, transfixed, and when she speaks again, her voice is hushed. “That’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible,” Peter says. “Not magic. Not even the fact that you would find me in this city by accident. Magic is drawn to magic.”

Y/N’s eyes slowly raise to meet his. “This is real, then. I have magic.”

“You have magic,” Peter confirms. “Come with us, we can show you. They’re good people, Y/N. You can trust them.”

It’s the closest he’s ever come to honesty. For once, Peter isn’t playing a game. He isn’t trying to trick Y/N over to his side. He just wants her to be safe, and he knows that isn’t through lies.

Y/N smiles at him. “I trust you, Peter. That’s enough for me.”

She reaches over and takes his hand. Now that he’s focusing on it, Peter can feel the slow loop of her magic when they touch. It feels like power, but more than that, it feels like life. A life with her, maybe. A life for both of them.

ouat tag list: @loveanimals0000, @eclliipsed, @w1shes43, @lost-ender

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[incorrect-swanqueen]

Snow: You ever look at two people and wonder why they haven’t kissed yet? Henry: Every day. Emma and Regina: Why are you looking at us?