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#Touching Hair | Hook and Emma
a-happy-beginning · 2 months
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How many times do I have to tell you, love?
—Killian Jones, Once Upon a Time, “Operation Mongoose”
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the-atlas-sister · 10 months
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𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎.
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𝙸𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎… 𝙼𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚢𝚊 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕.
If you would have told anyone in Toman that Mitsuya would be the first guy to actually get a date with a girl they would be pissing in their pants laughing at you. Except Takemichi.
"You've got to be shitting me, right?" Draken snickered, slapping Mitsuya's shoulder as he sewed the final touches into his jacket for the infamous date. The grey haired boy was surrounded by Mikey, Draken, Chifuyu and Takamichi as Mikey tinkered with his bike.
"I'm serious," Mitsuya said with a smirk, looking up at his taller friend. "She even asked me out."
"Bullshit," Chifuyu snorted.
"Why's it so hard to believe?" Takemichi asked, leaning over Mikey as he tinkered with his bike. "Mitsuya seems like he'd be better with girls then any of us."
"Except Mitsuya hasn't had a girlfriend, or even hooked up with a girl," Draken chuckled, leaning over his friend in question with a teasing smirk.
"Neither have you," Mitsuya shot back with an equally teasing smirk of his own.
"That's by choice for me," Draken shrugged, standing up fully.
"Plus, Draken's got Mikey," Chifuyu teased. "I don't think he'd have enough time for a girlfriend."
The other's couldn't help but laugh, except for Mikey, who pouted from his spot beside the bike. "Kenny doesn't need a girlfriend, he's got Emma," he pouted, wacking Takemichi with his wrench.
"Hey! What'd I do!" Takemichi yelped, hopping around comically and holding his calf.
The boys continued to laugh at their friend's antics before Mitsuya felt his phone buzz. He pulled it out and flipped it open, only to see a message from none other than the girl in question.
"Is that her?" Chifuyu asked, hovering behind to older boy, trying to peak at his phone.
"You're almost as bad as my little sisters," Mitsuya scoffed, pushing Chifuyu away with a teasing scowl.
"Tell her to come here," Draken smirked. "So we can see this girl for ourselves."
Mitsuya scoffed at his friend but smiled softly. It'd be nice for him to show you off, give him an excuse to gloat in front of his friends. "Alright, I will," he said to himself before sending you the location.
"Let's pretend you do actually have a date," Chifuyu said, leaning on the bike. Mikey sent him a scowl, making Chifuyu quickly back off with a flushed face. "How'd you meet her?"
"Sewing club," he stated simply, going back to his jacket. "She needed an outfit for a date or something and asked for some pointers. Then she asked me on the date."
"Wow, bold girl," Takemichi mumbled slightly. "Reminds me of Hina." He stared into the distance with a far off grin. Chifuyu quickly smacked him upside the head with a bored expression.
"Speak of the devil," Mitsuya mumbled, smirking at something in the distance. The boys followed his gaze to see a girl running up to the small group. She wore a bright grin and a dazzling outfit, assumingly the one Mitsuya was previously talking about.
"You've got to be shitting me," Draken repeated, shaking his head with his arms crossed over his chest. You were fucking stunning.
"Hey," Mitsuya said, standing as you approached the ground.
"Hey Taka," you said with a wide grin. Your eyes fell to his jacket. "Woah- did you do the embroidery?" you asked with wide eyes, gently picking up the fabric.
"Just finished it," Mitsuya responded with a small smile.
"Amazing work, as always," you said with a small grin of your own. You looked over his shoulder at the gaping gang members. "Oh, hello!"
"You've got to be shitting me!" Chifuyu exclaimed, making you chuckle awkwardly.
"Excuse me?"
"Sorry about them," Mitsuya said, sending his friends a small smirk. "My friends are just surprised."
"Oh," you said, smiling once more. "Hi Taka's friends!"
They all waved awkwardly at you, still in disbelief.
"So, ready to go?" you asked, turning your attention to Mitsuya.
"Yeah, you good with a motorcycle?" Mitsuya asked, pointing over his shoulder at his bike. Mikey stood from his place on the ground and wiped the sweat from his head.
"Mhm!" You wandered to the motorcycle, waiting patiently for Mitsuya.
"Told ya," he mumbled to his friends with a smirk before wandering to the bike with you.
"You've got to be shitting me!" Chifuyu yelled once more as the couple drove away.
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em1e · 1 year
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three little words | first 'i love you'
⿻ mini series ft. you dating shinichiro and whatever chaos that comes from that !! ✕ fluff !! ♡ series m.list
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you’re amazed he lets you meet his friends again after the past experience. 
sure, it took a lot of egging on from either side before he finally folded, but who’s really counting how many times you asked. (seventeen. shinichiro started counting after the first five. still, he’s happy you fit well with his group. a little too well, honestly.)
you and wakasa’s laughter was the only sound that filled the garage, shinichiro basically pouting in the corner at your relentless teasing. he completely stopped working on the bike he needed to be finished with if the two of you were going to go on your date tonight to sulk at the fact that wakasa was pulling such a pretty sound from you - at his expense, no less. weren’t you supposed to be at his defense? 
“did he ever tell ya about the time mikey hit him so hard he was practically bedridden for a week?” wakasa asks, popping the dango stick out of his mouth and using it to gesture towards your boyfriend. 
“he didn’t.” another giggle passes your lips, but you stand to comfort him despite the teasing being light-hearted, “wanna tell me ‘bout it?” you lean into shinichiro’s shoulder to ask, barely able to see his expression from the angle. 
“we were sparring ‘nd he kicked me in the nuts so hard i thought i’d never breathe normally again.” he explains with a pout, turning his head to meet your gaze. 
you stand fully with a small smile, running your hands through his messy hair, “s’not too bad. mikey’s always been strong, hasn’t he?” 
shinichiro clicks his tongue at this, but leans into your touch, head hitting your thigh. 
wakasa can only grin. leader of the toughest delinquents in japan, his captain and best friend, being coddled by his partner after light teasing. truly, you’re babying him. 
the jokes die down at this, shinichiro practically melting into your side while you and wakasa find new things to talk about. upcoming events for mikey and emma that collide with things they’d planned to do with the black dragons, small dinners between his friends, even smaller dates for just you and shinichiro, until shin’s decided he’s sulked enough and begins working on the bike again. 
it leaves you and wakasa to continue talking, while he listens half-heartedly - too focused on finishing so wakasa will leave his garage and the two of you can have some well earned alone time. when he’s finally finished, he’s putting stuff away and gesturing towards wakasa to help, and like clockwork wakasa turns his nose and hops from his place on shinichiro’s toolbox, suddenly becoming the busiest man in the world and needing to leave immediately to attend to whatever other duties he was ignoring up until this point. 
and like clockwork, wakasa exits the garage with a wave, which leaves you to help shinichiro put away and clean up whatever miscellaneous things he’s dragged out to use to fix the bike. when you’re finally finished, standing from a bent position after sliding some tools into their proper place, shinichiro steps behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. 
you lean into his embrace with a small smile, placing your hands on top of his own with your head hitting his shoulder. 
“i adore ya, y’know?” he mumbles into your ear, hooking his chin over your shoulder and closing his eyes when you offer a small laugh in return, “really, really love ya.” 
you don’t stiffen at the admission like he thinks you will. you don’t do anything at all, for that matter, and somehow it makes the anxiety from saying the words out loud swell to settle somewhere deep in the pit of his chest. 
almost a year of being together, and neither of you have said those damning words. shinichiro wonders if maybe it’s still too early, or maybe you - 
he’s pulling himself from you before he can stop himself, thinking the space necessary as you process what he’s said, ready to carry the weight of the words back with him as he moves, but your grip on his own hands tightens to keep him from going too far. then you’re turning to face him, keeping yourself in his embrace and wrapping your own arms around his neck with your head tilted as you take in his still-faced expression. 
“you love me?” you ask, chin tilting upwards, eyes not leaving his. 
“s’not obvious?” he sounds almost offended as he asks, brows furrowing and chin tilting downwards to keep his face even with your own. 
“never said it outloud.” you counter, fingertips dancing at his shoulders and tap tap tapping, almost in tandem with his own erratic heartbeat. “not sober, at least.” you add after a moment of thought, and his eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise. 
“that so?” you give a small nod in reply, “when’d i say it ‘not sober’?”
he can see the ghost of a smile beginning to form on your lips as you pause to think, “when we celebrating wakasa’s birthday two weeks ago, when we went to that bar in roppongi a few months ago, when we snuck into the abandoned warehouse-” 
“that was when we first started dating!” 
he actually pulls away from you slightly at this, completely and utterly shocked from learning these details, “i wasn’t even that drunk those nights!” 
your arms around your shoulders keep him from moving too far from you, scrunching your nose as you recall having to drag him back into his room with a hand over his mouth each time because he was just so loud as he stumbled around the house. 
“drunk enough that you don’t remember me telling you i love you back.” you counter with instead, deciding the teasing you and wakasa put him through previously was more than enough to tide you over for the passing day. 
he freezes at this, “you did?” 
“i did.” you confirm with a nod, standing on your toes to press a kiss to his nose, “i” a kiss to his cheek, “love” another to the opposite cheek, “you.” a final one to his lips.
he smiles into the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer so you’re molded perfectly against him, until you're pulling yourself back with him chasing after your lips. one more soft kiss placed to his cupid's bow, then you’re unwrapping yourself from him while he almost pouts at the loss.
“c’mon, we’re gonna be late for our reservations.”
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bigfan-fanfic · 3 months
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The Most Powerful Thing in the World (Mage!Reader x Henry Mills)
Sequel to Pay My Price
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Eventually you did have to return to Storybrooke
It had been quite a while, and Henry was missing his mothers, most certainly.
"Your moms... you think they'll like me?"
"They've known you since we were kids."
"Yeah, but... you know what I mean."
"You've been my boyfriend since we were sixteen."
"Okay, fair. I do like them, anyhow. Hopefully nothing changes."
So through the realms you travel until your feet touch asphalt and you inhale the familiar scent of Granny's diner.
"Henry!" His mothers cry immediately, rushing him in a hug.
Emma grins. "Hey, kid! Your hair is pink!"
Henry chuckles. "Yeah, it's a little bit of a curse."
Regina frowns, tilting her head. "A curse? Well, why hasn't Y/N helped lift it?"
"Because I cast it." You chuckle fondly, enduring a bear hug from Emma.
They look at you, eyebrows raised.
"Henry here thought the best way to deal with a strigoi in one of the Woods was to charge in there sword flashing. After I saved his butt, I cursed him with bright hair so he knows how much he stands out."
"I mean, it's a little unorthodox, but it gets the job done." Regina muttered.
"Mom!" Henry protested.
You giggle and nuzzle his cheek. "You know just how to lift the spell."
"Fine, fine. I promise to be more... willing to be discreet."
"Thank you." You kiss him, and a rainbow wave of light spreads from you two, restoring Henry's hair to its natural dark hue.
Emma looks between you two. "So... you two do this often? Little curses and such?"
"Yeah. We're being careful, Mom. It's just... sometimes I can get a little ahead of myself. You remember."
"Yeah." Emma chuckles in spite of herself.
"And Y/N's hexes make me think and remember to be more mindful. Besides, they're never harmful, just memorable. Much like my prince."
You blush. "Your prince, am I?"
Henry smirks. "Moms, we'll catch up for dinner? I think my boyfriend and I need to see to our apartment."
Emma and Regina get the Charmings and Hook together a little later.
"Wow. Henry and his boyfriend are... much more confident." Snow laughs softly.
"I'll say. I caught them snogging on the Jolly Roger. It's been a while since I've had to chase a lovebird off me ship."
David raises an eyebrow. "I thought pirates were all for loving on the ship."
"Yeah, when it's the crew, not a pair of wild young ones."
"So is Henry not part of your crew?" Emma teases.
Hook sighs, realizing he's been trapped. David high fives his daughter.
"Y/N's also taken my teachings to heart and become quite the magician." Regina noticed. "I'm not sure how I feel about their... exuberant hexing."
Emma smirked. "It's... well, I won't say every young love goes through it, but similar. I like that they keep things fresh."
Snow smiles. "Henry's a good man. And he's about to make a fine king. Y/N's good for him, to keep him grounded and centered."
"Yeah, the lad needs someone to make sure he doesn't get too big for his sails."
"That reminds me, has anyone given the kid the shovel talk yet?" David chuckles.
Snow shoots him a look, then smirks. "If anyone's gonna need a shovel talk, it's Henry."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Regina says, offended, before Emma interrupts.
"Let's just get ready for a family dinner. I'm not spoiling anything, but... I'm pretty sure Henry's planning to ask a very important question."
And the group moves as one to set the table at Regina's house, eager to greet Henry and you...
And to welcome you to their family, officially.
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exhaustedpirate · 2 months
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her handless wonder
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this all came to be from my love for the season 3 finale, my unsatisfaction at the resolution of that little Emma slip up a couple of episodes before AND my dislike of Regina; blended it all up and added a sprinkle of smut and voila! edited by the amazing @belovedcreation
rated M | 2498 words
also on AO3
“You traded your ship for me?”
“Aye.” 
It feels like hours ago and no time at all that he had made his confession. It still makes her heart pound just thinking about it. The truth and the devotion in his eyes meant that she could have done nothing except kiss him. Not that it was a hardship, really.
Killian kisses her now, on a dark corner next to the bathrooms, his lips insistent and passionate. Emma wraps her arms around his neck and prepares for the ride. Distantly, she knows they should stop - anyone could find them there. 
But his body is strong and warm against hers and his arms tight around her waist. Her self-restraint has limits - she had to wait an hour already (an eternity) so that she could make a quick exit, claiming exhaustion, and catch Killian’s attentive eye so he would know to follow her. Which led to her pressing him against the wall of this dark corner and pulling his lips to hers before he could say anything else to delay her desire to kiss him. And touch him. And hold him. And be touched by him.
Her lips trail down to his neck, hearing his quick breathing against her ear. She touches his chest over his many layers, her fingers caressing the chest hair peeking out through the shirt’s opening, and she feels his hand and hook on her hips. She smiles against his neck, worrying a mark to his hot flesh and feeling her insides tingle at the responding groan. 
“Touch me,” she demands, grabbing his wrists to urge him to do something, anything, her mind too flooded by desire to think of specifics.
But he flinches and pulls his arms away from her gasp. She lets him go, not wanting to force anything on him, and looks up. His lips are parted and his breathing rapid, signs of his lust, but there’s shame in his eyes overtaking the desire even as he tries to escape her gaze. 
“What’s wrong?” she asks quietly and places her hand on his cheek to bring his eyes to hers. “Killian?”
“I think,” His voice is rough as he responds, eyes shuttered even as he looks back at her. “We should stop, hmm, for tonight.” 
She wants to respect his wishes, she does, but she knows he’s deflecting. He wants her, can feel the proof of that against her belly, but something is stopping him. And then she notices how, while his right arm stays at his side, his left is carefully hidden behind his back.
“Killian,” Emma insists, her hands laying on his shoulders before slowly moving down his arms. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“It-I-” He stutters and that’s even more jarring than him stopping her advances. He flinches when she finally takes hold of his hand and hook and she finds her final clue.
“Is it because of this?” she asks, keeping her eyes on him while she tugs on his hook. He doesn’t answer but she sees the truth in his eyes. “You know, I don’t care about that, right?”
Killian takes a deep breath and there’s carefully hidden pain in his eyes. “That isn’t what you said earlier,” Emma frowns, her mind working overtime to figure out his meaning. And, like a lightning strike, she remembers - Davids insists Hook join her and she deflects, of course, because she’s emotionally fucked up: “What is he gonna do? I have magic. He’s got one hand.”. In her remorseful reminiscing, he is able to extricate himself from her loose grip. Her cheeks redden with shame and she looks away. He sighs. “It’s alright, Emma, don’t feel obligated to be with me just because of what I did.”
That catches her attention though. She looks up sharply and finds a resigned expression in his face. “No,” she says determinedly and sees his eyes widen slightly. “That’s not why I’m doing this.” She takes hold of his hand and hook once more, her grip tight. “I’m kissing you because I want to kiss you and I'm touching you because I want to touch you.”
He shakes his head against her determination. “Emma, it’s-”
“I was wrong and stupid,” She interrupts and locks his gaze with hers. “I said it because I was pushing you away, because I didn’t want you to get hurt. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it,” She pulls his arms around her and feels warm at how they instinctively wrap around her again. “I don’t care that you only have one hand, I care about you and I care about being with you.”
He doesn’t let her say more, his lips pressing against hers in a hungry kiss, one she is more than happy to reciprocate, her arms wrapping around his neck. Their bodies mold against one another and she relishes the warmth, the perfect fit of their bodies. His hand finds the round curve of her ass and she grins against his lips before letting out a pleased gasp when the cold metal of his hook finds the bare skin of her back. 
“Besides,” she whispers. “I’m sure you can do a lot more with one hand than many men can with two. Wanna prove it to me?”
He chuckles darkly, his lips at her ear, teeth finding the flesh of her earlobe. She feels warm and like there’s electricity in her veins. She has never felt this way from such small touches before. “As you wish, Swan,” he whispers back in a hoarse voice, warmth pooling between her legs. “But we should find a more private place, don’t you think?”
She doesn’t answer, her hips grinding against his and her hands covering every inch of his body she can reach. Emma sucks in a sharp breath and takes hold of his hook. Without a word, she pulls him up the stairs, his steps in time with hers. They reach his door in a blur but it’s been far too long since she’s kissed him. He must feel the same way because he twirls her around until her back hits the wall next to his door and takes her lips in his.
“Killian,” she sighs against his lips, her hands grasping his shoulders.
“I got you, love,” he mumbles, hand finding the waistband of her jeans. “I got you.” His lips trail down her neck, focusing on her pulse and she feels like she wants to scream in victory. It feels better than she ever imagined. And she did imagine. A lot.
Emma is so distracted by his talented lips kissing, nibbling and sucking her skin that she doesn’t realize he unbuttoned her jeans until she feels his warm hand over her underwear. “Please,” she gasps, his fingers circling slowly against her clit. “Touch me, please.”
Her begging works. With a growl, he nibbles on her collarbone as he slips his hand inside her underwear and she swallows her sigh of relief with a loud moan. His hand stops and she opens her eyes to see him glancing around before looking back at her with a glint in his eyes.
“You’re going to have to be quiet, love,” he whispers and she bites her lip at the sound, his fingers twitching over her pussy at her reaction. “Can you do that for me?” he asks and his hook caresses her jawline.
She nods enthusiastically, rubbing her thighs together to urge him to touch her more and he grins, a smile full of promise and lust. He slants his lips over hers and she feels his fingers press against her clit, sinking her teeth on his bottom lip. 
“Gods I can’t wait to feel you around my cock, Emma,” he murmurs as his fingers begin to circle at a quickening pace. “You’re going to feel amazing, aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes,” she gasps, gripping his biceps tight in her grasp. “I want to feel you inside me.” 
His hook slides up against the skin of her belly and her mouth parts in a gasping moan. She feels his eyes on her but all she can focus on is the way his circling fingers quicken and his hook reaching the fabric of her bra. With desperate movements, she unhooks her bra, letting the undergarment sag underneath her clothing. She takes hold of his brace and looking into his eyes, she pulls his hook against her breast. His eyes darken as if he can see it, as if he can feel it, and she likes to believe he does. 
The cool metal presses against her hard nipple at the same time he slides a finger inside her. “More,” she whispers, she begs. “More.”
“Fuck,” he gasps, sliding a second finger inside her while pressing the heel of his palm against her clit. “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you, Emma?”
She nods desperately, wanting nothing more than to grant him that desire. But she needs something more, she needs- His lips find hers, a burning kiss. “Then, come, my love, come for me.” he begs against her mouth and his teeth find her bottom lip.
She shatters with a silent scream, his fingers slowing down to drag out her climax, to turn her into jelly in his arms. His left arm wraps around her waist to pull her against him, holding her up in her unstable legs. Emma blinks her eyes open to find him watching her, a desperate look in his eyes.
“I knew you’d look enchanting when you come,” he whispers and she is surprised to feel her body heat up at the praise, at the sound of his voice. His fingers drag between her folds slowly, whispering over her clit. “Better than I imagined.”
“You imagined it?” She smirks as her hands rub up and down his arms. 
“Many, many things, Emma.”
“So did I,” she confesses and bites her lips at his sharp intake of breath. Her hands move to his chest, feeling his heartbeat and slowly making their way to the waist of his leathers. “Should we go inside your room and see if reality measures up to fantasy again?”
“With pleasure, love.” 
Despite her request, she is still disappointed when he has to remove his hand from her clit. But he more than makes up for it by licking his fingers clean from her essence, his eyes fluttering shut with delight at her taste. He cups her chin and kisses her, his tongue tangling in his hers and she gasps out a moan at her taste in his tongue. His hips grind against hers and she feels his hardening desire against her. Her hand cups his cock over his pants and he pulls away from her lips to let out a strangled moan.
“Shh,” she grins, her hands massaging him while he looks at her with that blazing gaze and his bottom lip captured between his teeth. “You’re going to have to be quiet.” Her grin widens as she repeats his order back to him. “Can you do that for me?”
“Bloody hell,” he groans before fumbling for his keys in his coat pockets.
It takes too long for the door to open, especially when Emma is much more interested in pressing her body against his back and running her hands everywhere she can reach. The door slams behind her and the lock is turned determinedly, her body vibrating with anticipation and desire. The result is scattered clothing, rumpled sheets, sweaty bodies, a delicious morning shower and more orgasms than she ever thought she was capable of having. A perfect first night together. First of many.
Early in the morning, with her naked body draped half on him, half on the bed, she traces her fingers down his left arm, fingertips tracing his scars lightly. His right arm curls tighter around her waist but he doesn’t stop her.
“Maybe I should start using Regina’s nickname for you,” she randomly says, trying to cover up the teasing in her voice.
“Captain Guyliner?” She can hear his raised eyebrow. Ridiculous.
She grins, finally looking up at him. “Handless wonder.” There is teasing in her voice but also fondness, so much affection she feels like she’s drowning.
“So, just as good as a man with two hands?” He raises his eyebrow in jest but she can see his desire for an answer. 
“Hmm.” She bites her lip and swings her leg to straddle him, the sheet falling from her shoulders, her body in full view of his eyes in the light of the rising sun. She grinds her folds against his length and bites her lip at his moan. “A million times better.”
---
Regina is part of the family. Emma really needs to remember that. 
Needs to remember that she is Henry’s adoptive mother and Snow’s … stepmother. God. Needs to remember that family dinners are a great thing and, after so long on her own, she loves her family, loves spending time with them. No matter how hard it gets to do so.
“Next time, Miss Swan,” Regina’s haughty eyebrow is pointed judgmentally at the bread rolls she was asked to bring, “get something of quality.”
Murder is bad. Murder is illegal. She is the Savior, she can’t murder people. 
Killian’s hand finds her thigh under the table, massaging it reassuringly, and her pulse slows. She turns her head towards him and smiles back at him in gratitude. He pats her jeans covered flesh and turns back towards the table. 
“Actually, your Majesty,” She loves the way he says it like an insult, nothing like the way he refers to her mother. He stretches his arm to take a bread roll from the basket. “I was the one who chose these as they are my favorite.”
It’s a lie. Emma had been the one to pick them - finding the cheapest option, considering they were just bread rolls - but she wasn’t going to say so. He grins at the former Evil Queen as he takes a bite of one. He doesn’t fake it. He doesn’t care, not like she does. No one does.
She sees Henry trying to hide a grin from the corner of her eyes. He enjoys family dinners but Emma thinks he enjoys it more because of the inherent rivalry between his adoptive mother and his birth mother’s boyfriend. Maybe she should have a talk with her son about his enjoyment of family drama. Although she’d feel like a hypocrite.
“Of course, the Savior can’t think by herself without her handless wonder.” 
Regina speaks with disdain, meant as an insult. It would be, at any other point. But they remember that first night, his insecurity, her reassurance, his touches, his talent. And so, to the surprise of the smirking Queen and exasperated family members, Killian laughs. And Emma laughs with him.
“You are absolutely right, your Majesty,” Killian smirks, sitting back on his chair and subtly placing his hand back on her thigh. “I am her handless wonder.”
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grimmswan · 2 months
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Dracula in Storybrooke part 5
For Captain Swan Supernatural Summer @cssns
Drake paced back and forth in the dark corridor. He made no sound as his feet touched the damp stones. His frustration and vampire speed making him look like a blur to the rats hiding in the walls.
He desired the Princess Swan. She was the embodiment of beauty and power. The fact that she was able to withstand his seduction only made her more desirable to him.
He thought of Emma, with her long golden hair. Running his hands through it would be like being able to touch the sun once again.
But at the moment, that filthy pirate was probably running his only hand through her hair.
Drake hissed at the thought that his bride was being contaminated by one so unworthy of her.
He needed to find a way to sever the bond between the two.
Renfield had told him it was impossible. But Renfield had chosen to change his name to Smee, so Drake didn’t think he was very intelligent or wise.
Dracula was certain that if the pirate captain was turned into a monster, the fair princess would realize she was better off with a dark prince.
Outside of Granny’s, in the warm sunlight, Killian did have one hand wrapped in Emma’s hair. His hook was pressed to the small of her back, keeping her close to him as their lips moved slowly together.
Emma let her fingertips dance along his jawline. She enjoyed the contrast of the rough stubble to the tender way he was kissing her.
She had noticed the yearning way he was looking at her and knew what he needed. But neither trust finding a dark corner for a quiet moment since the vampires had made an appearance.
So beside the overgrown hedge it was.
“I won’t survive losing you, Swan.” Killian whispered against her mouth. “Promise me that you will do everything in your power to protect yourself.”
“As long as you promise me the same thing.” She whispered back to him. “After everything we’ve been through, I don’t want to live without you, either.”
“You two are ridiculous.” Leroy’s frustrated tone broke through the couple’s intimate moment. “You’re only going to be separated for a few hours at most. We need to get back before sundown.”
Since logically the caves were the ideal place for those that needed to avoid sunlight, Emma, her parents, and Leroy would be searching the tunnels for any sign of Dracula and his vampires.
Killian, Dr. Whale, Belle, and Blue would be searching through all of the ancient tomes and scrolls they could find for a way to turn everyone human again, and defeat Dracula.
Killian had wanted to go with Emma, but since he was fluent in multiple languages, he knew it was best to help with the research. Blue also wanted him to assist in gathering chrystal she and the other fairies would create to store Emma’s white light and use them as another way to ward off the vampires.
“Besides, if the vampires do try to attack us, it would help having an expert fighter with us.” Whale had pointed out.”
Before his group headed out, David mentioned to Killian in passing, “If Whale got maimed, nobody would blame you.”
“I heard that, Charming.” Whale growled.
“Don’t care.” David shrugged as he joined his wife and daughter. The former sighed and shook her head and him. The latter grinned at his behavior.
The group made their way through the tunnels, Emma in the front with her hands aglow the entire time.
They were sure that the vampires Dracula had turned were hidden away, sleeping.
Smee had said that Dracula had the power and ability to not sleep for months or years, he also had the ability to put himself into a sleep for centuries. But other vampires needed to hide themselves and sleep when the sun was up.
But no one wanted to take any chances. The plan was to find the sleeping vampires, and then bind them using Emma’s magic, and ropes woven with silver, preventing them from causing any harm to the rest of the town.
Weapons were drawn. Eyes quickly roamed every corner and peered into every shadow.
After walking to where they were sure was the deepest the tunnel could go, they came upon a cave filled with large stones stacked to resemble coffins.
“This must be where they are sleeping.” Leroy said out loud, “Now how are we going to lift these rocks so we can bind these blood suckers?”
“Leroy” Snow admonished, “These are people who are under a curse. It may be different than the other curses we are used to, but they are still victims. And they need our help.”
“Until you can find a way to turn them back, they are monsters who won’t give a second thought to biting our necks and draining every last drop of blood from our bodies. So you’ll excuse me if I’m not feeling too sensitive about their situation right now.”
“Your neck is not one I would be eager to dine out.” A female voice hissed.
Turning in the direction of the sound, they saw a beautiful woman clad in a sheer black gown emerge from a hollow in the wall.
“But your neck,” She continued, looking at David, “I would love to have lips pressed all over it.”
“Not a chance,” Snow shouted, aiming her arrow at the woman.
 She seemed to have forgotten all about their intention to capture the vampires without harming them.
The vampire woman hissed in Snow's direction, showing off her fangs and claws. Suddenly, more vampires emerged. The dirt and rocks fell away, revealing the hiding place of the fearsome beings.
There looked to be more there than had been thought to have been turned in Storybrooke.
“I think Dracula brought over some of his vampires from the Land of Horror and the Land of Untold stories.” David observed.
Emma sent out beams of light, “There’s too many. There's no way we’ll be able to bind them. We’ll have to get out of here and search for another way.”
The group retreated, heading back to Granny’s. Emma continued to send beams of light, keeping the vampires at a distance until the group was safely inside.
Everyone was grateful that Emma had put up magic wards to keep the vampires from entering. The vampires hissed and snarled as they tried and failed to push through the invisible barrier.
Several feet behind them, Emma could make out Drake standing and watching.
They had escaped him and his minions, so why did he have a smug look on his face?
Emma’s heart was suddenly gripped by terror. Where was Killian?
They took him by surprise, using a clever ruse.
He had gotten a call on his talking phone. Emma had told him that reception in the tunnels was terrible. So when the other person on the other end of the line sounded muffled, and strange, he assumed that was the reason. Believing the woman was the Lady Snow, he believed her when she said that Emma was in danger. Without a second of thought, he raced to the tunnels.
His thoughts were too preoccupied with Emma’s safety to hear Blue or Belle calling out that it might be a trap.
And Snow hadn’t realized that the attack had been a distraction allowing a vampire to steal her phone.
Too late, he realized his mistake. He was alone in the shadow, making himself easy prey for Dracula and his vampires.
 They ambushed him. Held him down as they sank their teeth into him. Killian watched in horror as Dracula emerged from the shadows, sliced a line into his wrist and held it over his face.
Killian’s mouth was held open by the vampires, forcing him to consume the crimson liquid that dripped onto his tongue.
“Those turned by me must do as I say. You will serve me like all of the rest.” The count put the full force of his power in his voice as he gave the command. “Bring the savior, Emma Swan, to me. When you are alone with her, use your new strength and power to subdue her and carry her to me.”
The blood took over Killian’s system. The Vampire Count’s voice took over everything in his mind. His body craved to consume blood. His mind craved to obey his master.
Fear had a vice-like grip on her heart. Emma ran as fast as she could, one had glowing, the other tracking Killian’s location with her cell.
It had been safest for her to go alone. Her intense emotions made her light powerful enough to send any vampire far away and writhing in agony.
 It was only when she spotted him, walking through the forest, without a mark on him that she calmed down.
Running to him as quickly as she could, she threw her arms around him and held him tight the moment their bodies collided.
The impact triggered him to take a deep breath.
Emma’s scent was stronger than ever. Sweet and soft, everything that was good in the world. His arms tightened around her and he inhaled more of her fragrance.
Killian took a long inhale of her scent. Emma always smelled like heaven to him. But at the moment, her unique perfume was stronger and especially enticing.
“Oh, Killian,” Emma sighed. “I was so worried. I was afraid Dracula had gotten you.”
Killian was unable to explain that Dracula had gotten to him. He wanted to keep Emma safe. But could not tell her that he was now a threat to her.
Emma messaged her father, letting him know, and asking him to inform the others that she had found Killian, and that he looked unharmed.
After joining back with the others, she helped infuse the chrystals Blue and the other fairies created with her light.
“Keep these crystals around your neck and the vampires will be unable to get near you.” Blue advised.
When Killian hadn’t reached for one, he excused it by saying, “I have Emma with me most of the time. There’s really no need for me to wear one.
It may have been a fact, and the others accepted the excuse, but in the back of everyone’s mind, there was a hint of suspicion.
Though she didn’t say anything, Emma was sure there was something wrong with the man she loved. Killian was too quiet. The last time he acted differently than his full self, he had been controlled by Gold. But she still encouraged everyone to go to their respective homes. No matter what, she knew she had nothing to fear about being alone with Killian.
Dracula stood in the shadows outside of Emma Swan’s home, waiting for his newest slave to deliver her to him.
But as he looked on, he saw no sign that his orders were going to be obeyed.
In fact, the opposite of what he wanted seemed to be happening.
Drake witnessed Killian pin Emma to the wall and trail kisses down her neck. Her mouth opened in an expression of bliss and her legs spread wider, inviting Killian to press closer.
“What are you doing, you fool?” Drake hissed. “You are supposed to deliver her to me.”
But it was clear he had no power over the pirate captain.
With his body pressed to hers, his hands gripping her firmly and his mouth roaming hungrily over her, Emma could feel how much Killian wanted her.
All Killian could think about was taking Emma. Consuming her. He needed her, every part of her. He was sure that he would die if he didn’t have her.
Driven by dark desire, Killian held Emma tightly to him, and sank his fangs into her neck.
Hearing Emma’s intake of breath, Killian found the strength to pull away.
But looking into her eyes, he didn’t see fear. He saw acceptance.
And desire.
Gazing at her, Killian was overwhelmed with the thoughts and feelings he had for Emma Swan. She was truly the most remarkable woman in the world. And the most beautiful. The most tantalizing. Temptation itself.
Especially her neck, with the drops of blood on her flushed skin reminding him of rubies set on ivory satin.
Too much temptation to resist, he lowered his head to consume more of her.
Drake was taken by surprise at the sight before him.
Somehow, his spawn had escaped his influence. What was more, he was feasting on the savior’s blood.
The savior’s behavior was even more shocking. He expected her to cry out in surprise, and pain. Instead, what he heard was a moan, and he saw her eyes flutter.
Was…. Was she enjoying it?
Fingers buried deep in Killian’s hair, Emma held him in place, encouraging him to take what he wanted from her.
Drake roared with a mixture of anger and frustration. It was hard to believe, but the truth was clear; Killian Jones was able to break the hold of the curse.
But the question was, how?
Something powerful bubbled up inside of Killian. Something that had been dormant for centuries.
The blood of a dragon, though polluted and mutated through a man, combined with the blood of a product of true love, awakened an ancient bloodline inside the pirate captain.
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chirp-a-chirp · 1 year
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Ikemen Prince: Dirty Pictures
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Description: A series of salacious drawings of the Rhodolite princes appear mysteriously at the palace. What are the pictures of, and how do the princes react to them?
Alternative Description: My brain is trash. If anyone wants to draw one of these photos, feel free to do so…
Tags/Rating: Suggestive, Cheeky, but stays PG-13
Word Count: ~890
Jin
Picture: Jin’s arms are behind his head as he strikes a pose. A string-bikini bottom dangles from his mouth, pearly white teeth contrasting nicely against the navy blue bottom. He’s shirtless, except for a matching bikini top that adorns him.
Luke: That picture is certainly…you. Whatd’ya have to say to that?
Jin: Nice boobs!
Chevalier
Picture: Chev is propped up against a headboard. He sleeps naked, with crumbled bedsheets and a book covering his lap. The picture’s title—A Beast in the Sack
Sariel: I swear this Hellcat is always up to no good.
Chev: My fool of a brother did not create this. *Points to a signature at the bottom of the picture that reads “From a Friend”*
Sariel: The signature’s legible. Guess that rules Clavis out.
Clavis
Picture: Clavis wear black leather chaps and winks saucily. He’s shirtless, suspended in the air in a harness comprising of sturdy black leather pieces and suspension hooks. His hands are held up, tied on either side of the harness with his signature brown and purple belts.
Nokto: And here I thought I had eccentric tastes in bed. Such a naughty, cheeky prince.
Clavis: Speaking of cheeky…! *Turns drawing over and hands to Nokto. The drawing displays the same suspended figure of Clavis, but from behind the harness*
Nokto: Ass-less chaps? Nice touch.
Leon
Picture: Leon stands proudly in front of the palace throne. His hands are on his hips, black cloak billowing behind his shoulders. Leon appears majestic as he flashes a radiant smile.
Jin: Hey Emma, what do you think of this? *Shows Emma the drawing, with Jin’s hand covering the bottom half of the picture*
Emma: *Looks at the drawing* Awww, Leon looks wonderful! But why are you hiding half the picture?
Jin: Here’s why! *Removes his hand from the drawing*
Emma: WHERE’S THE REST OF HIS CLOTHES?!
Jin: King of the jungle indeed. Now I know why you and Leon are always smiling at one another. I’d smile like that too if I were packing THAT much—
Leon: Discussion’s over! *Takes Emma in his arms and strides towards his room*
Leon: *Whispers to Emma* Let’s see which Leon you prefer, hmm?
Yves
Picture: Yves carries a silver tray with a pipping hot apple pie from the oven. His cheeks are rosy and sprinkled with flour. The fifth prince is as naked as the day he was born except for a white apron that reads “Kiss the Cook” in pink cursive.
Yves: This is highly undignified!
Licht: Don’t you have that exact apron?
Yves: That’s besides the point Licht!
Clavis: Well, well, well! Someone appears to be VERY excited about baking.
Licht and Yves: What?
Clavis: Look closer at the picture.
Yves: *Peers at the drawing* Aaaaaaah! Don’t look Licht!
Licht
Picture: Licht wears a skintight full-body grey bunny costume, (complete with bunny ears) that showcase muscular legs and strong shoulders. He stands in a field of flowers, facing away from his audience, his cotton tail slightly elevated at a jaunty angle. Licht turns his head to reveal a scrunched up nose and a look of surprise.
Licht: Ugh. Disgusting. *Drops picture and walks away*
Leon: Hey, this picture looks kinda nice actually.
Chev: *Wordlessly picks up the picture and gestures to the bottom right corner of it*
Leon: Oh. A basket of carrots. Of course.
Nokto
Picture: It’s a portrait of a very pleased looking Nokto from the shoulders up, hair disheveled, neck smeared in crimson lipstick kiss marks.
Nokto: This is rather tame. I’m kind of disappointed.
Clavis: *Smirks* Look at the other side of the picture haha!
Nokto flips the paper and laughs heartily. “Ah, that’s much better.”
Yves: What’s better? *Peers at the paper* Aaah! That’s disgusting! How many people are in that…position?
Clavis: At least three. There are five limbs visible!
Nokto: Is that my limb or is that—
Yves: Don’t ask that!
Luke
Picture: Luke lays on a bear-skin rug by a roaring fire. Near the rug is a steaming hot bowl of porridge and a pot of honey. Luke looks tenderly at a well-worn teddy bear sitting on his stomach and propped up by his legs. The caption reads “this not-so-little bear feels juuuuuuust right”.
Jin: The palace maids are quite taken with this drawing. They say you look quite fine on that rug.
Luke: Oh?
Jin: Yeah, and some of those maids would love to lay on your hardwood!
Luke: …pervert.
Epilogue
Clavis stands deep in the woods near a dilapidated stone tower on the Rhodolite-Obsidian boarder. A twig snaps as a man emerges from the shadows.
Clavis: Thank you for your “artwork”. My brothers and I were quite taken with your depictions of us! Allow me to return the favor. *Hands man a crude drawing*
Picture: Gilbert is standing up, wearing impeccable white gloves as he leans onto the top of his cane, a smirk on his face. Beyond the gloves, he wears only two eyepatches, the second one strategically placed and…quite a snug fit.
Gilbert: Is this what you think of me after all this time, my friend? I need quite a bigger patch down there.
Clavis: What is it with Obsidian men and their obsession over size?
Gilbert: You really ARE an ass. I’m glad I drew you in those chaps.
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Text
Bloodlines of Fire
Tangled Temptations
Please DO NOT read further if you are NOT 18+!!!
Pairing : Shanks x Emma
Summary: Shanks and Emma arrive at her penthouse tangled in each other.
Word Count: 1658
Triggers: SMUT (18+ ONLY!!!)
Tag list: @short-honey-badger @hope31185 @bumblingbriars (Request to be added in comments or messages)
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The car ride had been filled with a flurry of kisses and eager hands, much like the elevator ride up to her penthouse suite. They had nearly devoured each other in the confined space of the elevator, but the doors had chimed open, and Emma swiftly ushered him into her home. Their shoes were kicked off at the door, his cloak discarded on the floor, before they tumbled onto the back of the couch. Now, she sat with him between her legs, their passionate embrace continuing.
He pressed his lips gently against hers, igniting a passionate kiss. With his one hand, he caressed her face, while she cupped his cheek in response. A soft moan escaped her lips as she gripped his hips and pulled him closer to her. He gripped at the back of the couch, maintaining his balance, his mouth lingering on hers before trailing slowly down to her neck. As her fingers skilfully unbuttoned her shirt, he inhaled her scent, placing light nipping kisses along her neck. She slipped off her shirt, revealing a rich dark red lace bra. His mouth found its way to her bra strap, gripping it gently with his teeth to make it pop lightly. "Beautiful," He murmured, his tone raspy full of lust, eliciting a sharp intake of breath as the strap snapped against her skin, sending a small sting through her shoulder. "There's more if you'd like to help." She teased as his hand slid up her waist and cupped the underside of her breast and thumbed her lace covered nipple in a circular motion, pulling a moan from her. "I might need a little assistance." He replied playfully, deftly removing the bra strap with his teeth. She grinned in response. "Of course." She undid her skirt and wriggled out of it pushing it to the side as it hit the floor, revealing a matching set of lingerie and stockings with hold-ups. His eyes slowly traced her body, his hand now delicately exploring the outlines of her stockings. Her smile widened as he examined her like an art connoisseur admiring a masterpiece for the first time. Her skin shivered under his touch, goosebumps rising where he traced. "Do you like what you see, Captain?"
“Yes…yes I do.” He continued to trace the outlines of her lingerie and nips at them with his teeth. She sucked in her bottom lip and tried to stop a moan from escaping. "Would you like to see if that chocolate cake comes in second place?" She giggles lightly. “I know it comes in second.” He pulled down her underwear with his teeth on one side and a finger hooked into the other side. Her body flushed as she watched him take care of her underwear. "Oh, do you?" She grins. “Mhmm...I do.”
Once he slid her underwear down her legs and gently discarded them, he rose and guided her around the couch. "Now for a little taste…" Her body responded, moving with him until her calves met the edge of the couch. She lowered herself onto the plush cushions, her skin tingling with anticipation. Her breath quickened as she watched him position himself between her legs, his eyes smouldering with desire. His muscles defined in the dim light of the room rippled as her hand stroked over his shoulders. His touch sent sparks across her skin as his fingers traced her curves, kindling a deep need within her. Arching into his touch, she silently begged for more as his tongue explored her wetness.
With a longing that had brewed since Vortex, her fingers threaded through his red hair, gently pulling him closer. This elicited a groan from him, and he rewarded her with his mouth latching onto her clit, sucking gently. His hand found its way beneath her, gripping her plump ass cheek. As his tongue and lips skilfully brought her to orgasm, she tightened her grip on his hair, her hips meeting his face eagerly, earning herself a firmer hold on her rump. Profanities escaped her lips as he pushed her towards the edge, and before she knew it, she succumbed to the electrifying waves of pleasure, tumbling into the depths of ecstasy.
She breathed in short, sharp gasps, lying still and relishing the aftermath of her pleasure. She felt him crawl up her body, planting tender butterfly kisses along the way. “I was right, definitely better than the chocolate cake.” He mused as he reached her mouth, they collided in a hungry kiss, a blend of passion and yearning. His hand roamed over her, igniting every nerve ending with his fiery touch, before settling above her head to anchor himself in place. She moaned into his mouth, lost in the sensation of his devouring, feeling him consume her very essence.
His clothes were shed in a frenzy of need, discarded to the floor as they surrendered to overwhelming desire. He settled back down between her legs, his eyes searching her face for any doubts, when she gave him a soft smile and trickled her fingers gently down his scars, he took that as a silent permission and pushed himself slowly inside of her. Emma gasped softly as he filled her, his own moan followed. “Fuck, you feel good.” Her smile widened and she leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips. “Been a while?” She whispered against his lips. “You could – say that.” His breath hitched as he bottomed out inside her. “You fit me so well.” She reassured him as their bodies moved in tandem, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through them as he thrust his hips in sharp, deep motions. Skin met skin, hot and slick with sweat, melding together in a symphony of ecstasy. Their sounds mingled with the night air, a chorus of passion and desire echoing through the room. His name was strangled by a cry as they reached the pinnacle of their passion, soaring together into the abyss, lost in a whirlwind of sensation that left them breathless and sated. Their bodies entwined in a tangle of limbs, hearts beating loudly in their ears.
Shanks held Emma close, her nestled under his arm with her head resting on his chest. Her arm and leg lazily draped over his stomach and legs. She softly moaned as his hand traced random patterns down her back. "I want you to tell me more about this world." He said, looking down at her. "What is this place called? Is it like a giant island or something else?" She rolled over to reach for the pile of their clothes on the floor, pulling her phone out of her jacket to show him pictures of the world. Snuggling her back into his chest, he cuddled her close, kissing her freckled shoulder softly. She smiled and began flicking through the browser maps. "We call it Earth, and we're currently here, in the country of America."
He observed as Emma's finger scrolled across her phone screen, navigating through digital landscapes. "Your seas aren't as vast as in my old world; we had many smaller islands." He remarked, glancing back at him over her shoulder. "It might be challenging to return to the sea in this world; it's mostly controlled and patrolled by governments. There's not much uncharted sea left."
Shanks frowned at this revelation. "I don't trust the government, but I'd still like to try and get back out to sea. It's who I am." Cupping his face, Emma offered him a tender smile. "Only fools trust the government," she chuckled. "But many feel powerless to change it or have grown too comfortable with the status quo." He took hold of her hand and kissed the soft flesh of her palm. "You're absolutely right, darling." She blushed at his gesture. "You're such a tease."
Their eyes met, a playful spark gleaming in his, which tied knots in her stomach. "I can be whatever you need me to be, lass," he said with a grin. She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Goober." He erupted into full-bodied laughter before leaning in and kissing her deeply. His hand slid from under her and ran through the back of her hair, gently grasping the base of her skull. A soft moan escaped her throat as she twisted around, pressing her chest against his. "Do I need to worry about any jealous suitors, princess?" He murmured, his lips trailing down her throat.
"Why are you asking that, and did you just call me princess?" She interrupted his affectionate gestures and gazed at him with a gentle frown on her forehead. "A lovely woman like yourself must have many suitors pursuing you and look at this castle you live in… you are clearly a princess." He smiled as she chuckled. "No, I don't. The men I know are like family; I grew up with them. Also, please don't call me princess. My father calls me that, and it would feel strange if you did too, besides, this is a penthouse not a castle."
"What name would you like me to use for you?" He asked, his lips tracing gently along her neck. "Speaking of your father, should I be worried about him?" She bit her lip, struggling to concentrate on his questions amidst the kisses trailing down her shoulder. "Anything except princess. As for my dad, he lives with Mom on the outskirts and hardly comes into the city. However, my brother sneaks in here occasionally, but he's not on good terms with Dad, so he won't say anything." He paused his kisses and looked down at her shoulder with a smirk. “I think I’ll call you Freckles since they're the prettiest things I’ve ever seen on a woman’s body, especially when they adorn yours so beautifully.” Emma giggled as he planted tickling kisses on her neck. “Alright, but I get to call you Goober.” He grinned as his lips met hers. “That’s fine with me, Freckles.”
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dark-frosted-heart · 1 year
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Doki Doki☆Beast Camp - Foreign Affairs Faction
Part 2
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This event ran from August 29 - September 8, 2022
As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this
Nokto: Hey, you know I saved you, right?
Emma: Saved?
Nokto: Yeah. If I hadn't, we'd have to eat Clavis' weird cooking. We can't have that after coming all this way.
(Weird cooking...I didn't know Clavis' cooking was so terrible...)
Emma: Thanks... But now it's up to us to make sure everyone's fed. We'll have to do our best to catch some fish.
As I was setting up, I noticed something.
Emma: Huh? There's only two fishing poles.
Nokto: That's all we had. We'll have to take turns.
(I see. Can't be helped, I guess)
(Nokto's resting right now so that means Luke and I...)
When I look at Luke, he shakes his head.
Luke: I don't need it. I can catch fish without tools. You two can use the rods.
(What do you mean?)
I watch as Luke picks up a net and steps into the river.
He stops when he reaches the center-
(WHAT?!)
In an instant, the water surface ripples as fish swim toward Luke as if drawn to him.
Luke gathers the fish up one by one in the net and dumps them in the basket.
Emma: Luke's incredible...
Beside me, Nokto's eyes widen in surprise.
Nokto: What kind of talent is that?
Luke: Animals would always come to me if I go into the forest, and fish if I'm in a river.
Nokto: Maybe you give off some weird pheromones.
Luke: I don't want to hear that from a womanizer like you.
Without interrupting their banter, I approach the river and look at the fish.
(I've never seen so many fish before. It's really amazing)
As I marvel over the fish, a large one suddenly jumps at me.
Emma: Wah!
I fall on my butt in surprise. Luke comes over and gently helps me up.
Luke: Emma, are you hurt?
Emma: No, I'm fine. Thanks... Sorry, I was so focused on the fish.
After I apologized, Luke suddenly picks me up.
Emma: Wha-
I instinctively hold onto him and he hands me a net after adjusting his grip.
Luke: If you're curious, try scooping them up.
Emma: You sure that's okay?
Luke: Yeah. But you'll get your skirt all wet.
Emma: I'll just let it dry and it'll be fine.
Once I tie my skirt around my knees, I ask Luke to set me down in the river.
But even after my feet touched the ground, Luke continues to hold me from behind.
Emma: Luke?
Luke: The fish only come to me, remember? If I don't stay with you, they might swim away. Now try it out.
I can feel my face growing warmer but I still scoop up the fish at Luke's encouragement.
(It's embarrassing, but I'm also having fun)
Luke's gaze is affectionate as he watches me catch fish after fish. It's embarrassing, yet comforting at the same time.
(Maybe it's because I can feel that Luke's happy that I'm also having fun?)
Satisfied after catching a lot of fish, I go up to the shore and head toward Nokto who's fishing nearby.
Nokto: If you caught enough, I don't need to fish. But it's pretty fun. Want to try it out?
Emma: I do!
When I sit down with a fishing rod in hand, Nokto calls.
Nokto: Ah, I hooked one.
Nokto pulls the fishing rod up, revealing a large fish on the hook.
He has this pure look on his face as he takes the fish and places it in the basket.
(I've never seen Nokto like this before)
Emma: Alright, I'll do my best!
Nokto: Hmm, then how about a contest?
We smile at each other and lift our rods when suddenly a gust of wind tangles the line in my hair.
Emma: Ow!
Nokto: What's wrong?
Noticing something's up, Nokto looks at me with a wry smile.
Nokto: Ah, just hold still for a sec okay?
Nokto comes closer, close enough that I can feel his breath.
(Too close!)
I cringe and Nokto gently touches my hair.
Nokto: It's pretty tangled.
Every time Nokto speaks, a chill runs down my spine at the feeling of his hot breath against my ear.
Emma: You can cut it?
Nokto: No way. Your hair's lovely.
I blinked at how naturally he said it.
(He's not teasing me...and it's throwing me off)
Nokto continues to gently work with my hair and eventually manages to pull the hook out.
Nokto: Got it.
Emma: Thank you.
After thanking him, Nokto smiled and kissed a strand of my hair.
Emma: !
Nokto: I would rather do it on the lips...But after you've fallen for me.
Emma: I won't fall for you...
Not wanting him to see how red my face was, I shot up to my feet and went somewhere else.
I took a deep breath to calm myself before casting the line again.
The poor catches are now a thing of the past and this time we caught a lot of fish.
When combined with Nokto's and Luke's, there's more fish than can be fit in the basket.
Emma: I'll got get another basket!
I set down my rod and headed toward the villa.
---
While making my way through the forest, something snags the hem of my skirt
(It'll be fine right?)
I continue running toward the villa.
---
Back at the villa, I see that Chevalier's position remained unchanged.
Emma: Prince Chevalier, are you hungry? We caught a lot of fish. I'll do my best with cooking so please eat.
I smile, pick up a spare basket, and start to head out when-
Chevalier: Wait.
Emma: Hm?
I stop in my tracks and Prince Chevalier gives me an exasperated look
Chevalier: You're getting carried away, fool.
I follow Prince Chevalier's gaze...
Emma: Ah!
My eyes widen at how torn up my skirt is.
Seeing my thighs visible through the tear, I hold it together in a panic. Prince Chevalier sighs.
Chevalier: Be more aware. There are plenty of bugs here.
Emma: S-sorry! Thank you.
I dig through my bag while holding my skirt.
(I can't find sewing supplies. Did I forget them?)
(Um, maybe I left out it in the room)
As I look around, I hear Prince Chevalier let out a louder sigh.
Chevalier: Back shelf, middle drawer.
Emma: T-Thank you so much!
Taking a needle and thread out of where Prince Chevalier had directed me, I squat down in the corner of the room and mend my skirt.
I glance at Chevalier but he doesn't seem to be paying me any attention and just continued with reading his book.
(Thank goodness for his indifference)
(I'm glad Prince Chevalier's the only one here...)
Emma: Thank you so, so much, Prince Chevalier!
After mending my skirt, I give Prince Chevalier my heartfelt thanks, leave the room, and head toward the river where Nokto and Luke are waiting.
---
But as I run through the forest, I spot Clavis standing in the thicket...
Emma: What are you doing here, Clavis?
Clavis gives me a big smile and approaches me.
Clavis: Emma, you've come to the right place.
Emma: Huh?
Clavis: Come over here, quick. There's something interesting to see.
("Interesting" for Clavis is...)
He takes my wrist and leads me to the side of the bush he was standing in earlier.
Clavis: I found something while burying treasure.
(Treasure?)
I don't understand what he's saying but I look and am taken aback by what I see.
Emma: Wow!
On a leaf in front of me is a chrysalis about to hatch.
The butterfly's transparent wings emerge and glisten in the light.
(Pretty!)
The butterfly slowly emerges from its chrysalis and flies gracefully into the sky.
Emma: Thank you for showing me this, Clavis!
Clavis: Haha, of course. It's thanks to you that I found more treasures to add to my collection.
Emma: More treasures?
When I tilt my head in confusion, Clavis leans close to my hear.
Clavis: Your profile's quite beautiful when you're absorbed in something, you know?
Emma: ...
Clavis: Goodness, I wish I could see it one more time.
(Maybe it's because we witnessed something beautiful together...)
(Normally I brush it off as a joke, but this time I'm feeling embarrassed)
Clavis: Ah, that's right. I have an idea. My trap-
Emma: I'll pass.
Clavis: I didn't even say anything yet.
Emma: I had the usual bad feeling! Now, Luke and Nokto are waiting for me so if you'll excuse me...
I try to turn away, but Clavis grabs my hand to stop me.
Clavis: I'll go with you.
---
Nokto and Luke: Ugh
When I return to the river, Nokto and Luke look at Clavis beside me with pure disgust.
On the other hand, Clavis doesn't seem to be bothered and looks at the basket of fish with interest.
Clavis: I didn't think you'd catch so many fish. Looks like my guide book on how to make fish traps helped, huh?
Luke: Nope. Oh, also, you can go back. There's plenty of fish so why don't you go and relax?
Nokto: We'll do the cooking.
Luke: More like we have no choice, but it's fine.
Emma: Um...I'll do my best too!
At our insistence, Clavis nods in satisfaction.
Clavis: I really wanted to cook up a special meal, but... If you want to serve your big brother Clavis that much, then I won't stop you. You all really love me, don't you? What's more, you seem to have bonded. Look forward to enjoying some recreational activities after our meal, alright?
---
Afterward, we return to the villa and cook. Luke takes charge while Nokto and I help.
We all enjoy a delicious meal, from the marinated appetizer to the main course of meuniere.
Clavis: After filling the stomach, people will also want to fill their hearts. Now to start the recreational activity I've planned, the first ever heart-throbbing treasure hunt with the foreign affairs faction!
Silence fills the room after Clavis spoke up.
(So this was the treasure that Clavis was talking about earlier...)
Clavis: Treasure's hidden everywhere. You can find clues on page 67 of the guide book. And if you can't read the writing, there are pictures too.
(I don't think Prince Chevalier, or even Nokto and Luke, want to participate...)
Clavis: If you don't take part, there will be a punishment. With this punishment, you'll never want to leave this island.
Nokto, Luke, and Chevalier: ...
Looking around, Prince Chevalier continues with his reading while Nokto and Luke sigh in displeasure.
(A-anyway, let's open to page 67!)
I open the book and gasp in surprise.
(While it's true that there are pictures included, they are so...unique...that I can't tell what I'm looking at)
As I stare dumbfounded, Clavis speaks up again.
Clavis: There are three treasures. The first is a gourmet set with the finest honey, rare mead, and my own nourishing hand-made sweets.
Luke: Sweets aside, the rest do sound like treasures. I've made up my mind. I'm going to find it.
Clavis: Haha, including the sweets right? The second treasure's a beautiful set. Jewelry, my favorite clay figures, and an assortment of other things I find beautiful. Lastly we have the Emma set.
Emma: Me?
Clavis: Yep, I have a surprise for you. It's something you want.
(Something I want? What could it be...maybe a rare book?)
Emma: Thank you.
After thanking him, I ask him a suddenly question that came to me.
Emma: By the way, what are you going to do during the treasure hunt, Clavis?
Clavis: I'll be keeping an eye on the gourmet set. There's some hazards nearby.
Emma: Hazards?!
Clavis: Yeah, as the guide says, there's danger in the forest after sunset. Especially in the area near the gourmet set. But don't you worry. That's why big brother Clavis will guide you. Safety first, you know?
Luke looks at Clavis who had spoken confidently and mutters
Luke: I think having you around's more of a hazard.
Nokto nods in agreement and lets out a resigned sigh.
Nokto: Then I'll go to the one that doesn't have Clavis. You're doing the same, right?
Emma: Eh, me?
(Wht do I do...?)
Luke: Isn't it dangerous being around Nokto too? You should come with me.
Chevalier: ...
Clavis: What will you do, Emma?
Clover end
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pirateswhore · 1 year
Text
You're enough - comfort one-shot
It's never easy to have your disability be made into a joke - to be reminded every day that you're not good enough or deserving of love & for it to be your defining trait. Killian has learnt to live with it. That doesn't mean Emma can't remind him from time to time.
for @vasfasan HAPPY BIRTHDAY STINKY <33 ILY
Read on ao3 || Read below:
"Mum, could you help me with an art project tonight?"
"Sure, Hook's staying over so we'll help you."
"I think the pirate's going to be more a hindrance than help."
"The one-handed wonder is only good for pillaging and plundering. It honestly surprises me how he can do anything."
"Maybe it's time we replace the missing dwarf. I'm thinking - Stumpy?"
"Shut the fuck up already!"
The dinner falls silent, heads turning towards him. He stands, chair creaking against the floor. His eyes flash across the people sitting at the table with him. A muscle in his jaw twitched and he turns, making haste towards his bedroom in the inn. He can hear the hushed murmur of comments behind him, but his mind is too hazy to actually focus on what they're saying.
He pushes past a confused and worried Ruby and makes it to his room. Shutting the door behind him, he slumps against it. His chest is tight, his breath uneven and strained and his knees give out as he slides down to the floor. His head falls back, a low thud against the wood. His eyes glaze over as tears pool down his cheeks. He swallows, pushing the lump caught in his throat deeper down.
Hook. Pirate. One-handed wonder. Stumpy.
Through his sobs, he can hear a gentle knock on the door. He steadies his breath enough to grunt a "Go away," but it comes out a lot less demanding than he intended.
"Killian, it's me. Please let me in?"
He stands, wiping his face with his hand. He shakes his head, wipes the tears and opens the door. Emma's standing in front of him, hands trembling and anger on her face. She softens and smiles at him, but he doesn't return it.
"What, no comment on how I can unlock the door with one hand?" he grits out, trying his best to sound angry, but his voice cracks and he sounds more pathetic than anything.
"Killian..." she sighs, shaking her head. "Can I come in?"
He rolls his eyes but steps aside so she can enter the room. He closes the door behind her but doesn't turn to face her.
"I told Regina and my parents off for the comments. Henry's pretty disappointed with them too."
He doesn't reply, standing still with his eyes fixed on the floor.
"I'm sorry for what they said, I promise not to-"
"You promise not to do what?" He snaps around, catching her off guard. "Not to comment? Not to insult? Not to stare and laugh? You're a few months late to that party, Swan."
She swallows and steps forward. "I'm sorry for not saying anything sooner. You're usually good at standing up for yourself, and you said nothing so I assumed it was all in good fun." Her hand reaches out, stroking his cheek and his facade breaks. A cry breaks from his chest and he closes his eyes, leaning into her touch.
She leads him to the bed and sits them down, never taking her hands off of him. One hand holds his cheek as the other strokes through his hair.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
He swallows, fingers playing with the zipper of her jacket.
"I didn't want to put a strain on your relationship with your parents. I knew you would get upset with them and I didn't want you arguing with them over me."
She pulls away, worry etched into her features. "Babe... if they're hurting you, you should've said something. I would have told them off earlier."
"I'm not worth the trouble, love."
"To me you are."
He scoffs and shakes his head. She holds him closer, pressing him into her chest.
"I hope you know I don't see you that way. The hook doesn't bother me," she whispers into his hair.
"You deserve better."
"And what could be better than you?"
He straightens, deliberately avoiding her gaze. She tilts his head up and meets his eyes with a soft, encouraging smile. He sighs.
"Someone you won't be ashamed of. Someone who's not broken and ruined. Someone you won't have to explain what you see in him, you won't have to justify your choice to people. Someone who will be able to hold you and touch you with both hands. Someone you wo-"
She cuts him off with her fingers to his lips, a gentle chorus of "shush" on her own.
"Killian, listen to me. I don't care about any of that. I'm not ashamed of you. You may not be perfect, but neither am I, and I refuse to believe either of us is ruined beyond repair. You've helped piece my heart together, and I hope I'm doing the same to you. I don't care about what people think of us, and I don't owe an explanation for my choices to anyone. If they can't see what I see in you, well. Their loss, really." She took his hook and hand in hers and placed it on her sides. "And you can hold me very well, thank you very much. If anyone, anyone, dares to object to that, to us, I have no problem setting them straight. I'll stand up to whoever has a problem with it."
"It's rotten work."
"Not to me. Not if it's us."
His mouth hangs open, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He lets out a shaky breath. Her hands rest on his chest, anchoring him to her. He drops his head and smiles, a breathy "I don't deserve you" on his lips. She leans in and kisses him, soft and sweet, pouring all her unspoken feelings into it.
Their foreheads rest against one another and they hold each other close.
"You're enough. You'll always be enough. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise."
She takes his hook, carresing it gently, fingers wrapped around its curve. She presses it against her chest, the coolness of the metal causing her skin to prickle. She smiles at him. "This? This makes no difference to me. It doesn't change how I see you, nor does it make me think less of you."
She leans forward to whisper into his ear. "And while I'm being honest, it's unbelievably attractive."
He laughs. Finally, he laughs, happy and hearty and she can feel the rumble in his vest through her palm. He reaches up, running his fingers across her cheek. There's a tenderness in his eyes, and she's certain no one has ever looked at her like that, not before him. Tenderness, utter devotion, lo-
Her thoughts are derailed when he lunges forward, kissing her and pinning her to the bed. She reciprocates in a second, pulling him into her.
"Does Henry still need help with his school project?" he murmurs between kisses.
"Not for a few hours."
"Good."
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Text
28 DAYS: FINAL CHAPTER
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Summary: Dean Winchester is an addict and an alcoholic, a USMC veteran, a father, and an older brother. As Battalion Chief with Lawrence Fire & Medical, Dean comes under investigation when he makes a dangerous and impulsive decision, defying his superiors and abandoning the team he is supposed to lead. He is given the choice to go to rehab for 28 days or jail. His lawyer insists on rehab, and Dean begrudgingly abides.
Characters in this chapter: Dean Winchester, Mrs. Butters (mentioned), Jack Kline, Meg Masters, Billie Pilgrim, Pamela Barnes, Rowena Macleod, Gabriel, Crowley (seen but not heard), Missouri Mosely, Alex Jones (seen but not heard), Lydia, Emma Winchester, Benny Lafitte, Castiel Novak, Bobby Singer, Ellen Harvelle, Casey Wood, Jo Harvelle/Victor Henriksen/Nick Iblis/Zeke Gadreel (mentioned), Sam and Jess Winchester (mentioned), Tessa Porter
Warnings/tags for this chapter: if you've read this far, you're golden xox
Words in this chapter: 5K
Author's note: Cute Sparkle Gryphon Meme
Emma driving is for @stusbunker. Love you, sis.
Thank you to Stu and to my 12yr ride or die @brrose-apothecary for read-throughs and late-night convos and for being my friends.
CHAPTER TEN
A week to the day before Dean is to be released, he and the others say goodbye to Jack. Mrs. Butters in the kitchen helps Dean bake and decorate a cake with a very cool screen print of Red Hood that Pamela found online, and Meg commandeers Jack's phone to add Pamela's, Dean's, and her own contact info to his address book.
"Hope you don't mind if I call you sometime, kid," Dean mutters. 
There's a tight, heavy knot in his chest that he can't loosen. He wants to keep in touch with Jack so he can celebrate his successes. He doesn't want to be the old Dean who keeps in touch out of fear that Jack will stumble with no one around to catch him.
But deeply woven within that knot is an intense foreboding, stoking Dean's fear of letting Jack walk out the door.
"Of course," Jack answers, distracted by his pinging phone, telling him his Uber is one minute down the street. "I'll text you."
Dean nods and chews his lip. "We can trade me-mes," he says, watching the kid not watch him. 
Dean has to actively restrain himself from pushing the flop of hair from across Jack's forehead and demanding the kid's attention. The knot spirals around his organs and rib cage into his gut.
"Meme," Meg says, trying to help Jack straighten the strap of his bag.
"What?" Dean asks.
"It's pronounced meme. Like theme," Meg answers, stepping back into place next to him.
Dean shakes his head as his heart jolts and dives at the sight of the white Honda pulling up in front of the big glass doors.
"Good luck, Jacky." Rowena appears at Dean's other side, looping an arm through the crook of Dean's elbow. "We'll miss you, sweet boy."
Meg mirrors Rowena, hooking her arm through Dean's. Dean drops his chin to his chest with a sigh, realizing how transparent his anxiety is to his friends.
"Ciao, baby," Meg bids the teenager a farewell, watching him stumble over his own sneakers toward the door.
"Bye, guys," Jack calls with a wave. "And thanks for the cake; it was really good!"
And then he's gone.
Dean starts a list of everyone with whom he needs to make amends. Emma's at the top of that list, so he always remembers how far he's come and can fall.
Castiel is the closest second.
Before Emma walked in on him with Max and Anna last year, Dean could sleep at night by telling himself he hadn't imposed on anyone or lied, cheated, or stolen. He told himself that he cleaned up his own messes and that he was just fine with death, closure, and a whole fuckin' bottle of Jack. 
Then he broke his little girl's heart. 
"Do you think you were trying to prove something to Castiel that day?" Billie asked.
"I think you know what I was doin'. Why don't you tell me what I was tryna prove?"
Billie was right as usual; Dean wanted to prove to Cas that he wasn't worthy of Cas's respect. Dean knew that kid was going to die if someone didn't go in there — and probably even if someone did — and he decided to be the kamikaze pilot because fuck everybody who still had faith in him; he wasn't worth their concern.
"The list!" Meg plops into a seat next to him with two cups of coffee. "Dean Bean, that list is hella long. You should pare it back for your first round."
She takes a sip of her coffee, handing him his as she peers over the rim of her cup.
Dean chuckles, shaking his head. "Every single person I think of makes my stomach hurt."
"Did you show it to Billie yet?" Meg slides her stocking feet into Dean's lap.
"Not yet. Meetin' with her in 10." He twists in his seat to accommodate her.
Meg nods. "Drink your coffee and keep me entertained ‘til you gotta go."
She burrows into her seat with an impish grin, and Dean smirks back as he sets to work, kneading her heels and thumbing the knotted muscles in her arches.
Four days after Jack, Meg is discharged. Pamela decides to stay beyond her discharge date for extra support from Billie and Cain. 
After their morning hike, Meg and Pamela say their goodbyes, and Pamela heads to Billie's office to plan another family session for the coming weekend. 
Dean waits with Meg for her sister Dani's arrival. Meg is keyed up and wide-eyed in the best way. Her fresh face is framed with braids on either side, compliments of Pamela, her sky blue backpack secured over her (Dean's) too-big hoodie, scuffed-up but neatly tied hiking boots, and softly worn jeans. 
Dean thinks she looks like she's headed off to college with her entire life ahead of her, and he thinks that look is fitting as fuck.
"I put Dani's number in your phone; she still has a landline." Meg rolls her eyes as she absently twists the straps of her backpack.
Mere days before Meg was admitted to rehab, Dani inherited their childhood home and land after months of legal battles surrounding the farm. After she and Meg made amends, they planned to renovate the old farmhouse together. Meg told Dean how thankful she is to have the project to keep her on her toes, not to mention her adopted niece Kaia. 
Meg's phone chimes with a text from Dani.
"She's just around the corner," Meg breathes, flicking her eyes to meet Dean's. "Three days?"
"You got it, sister." Dean pulls her in for a hug. "I'll be outta here, and we'll be 2.1 together. Right?"
"Right."
Last week, Dean and Meg realized that they had grown up less than 10 miles apart. There's not even one excuse Dean can think of to not continue their morning hikes and coffee at least once a week, and he can't wait to witness Meg's inevitable bloom outside this place. 
He sees Dani pull up and releases Meg. 
"Keep an eye on PB," Meg murmurs, pulling away and not quite meeting Dean's eyes.
Dean nods silently as Meg drops her gaze to her feet and shuffles toward the door.
"Goodbye, love!" Rowena calls from the lobby's catwalk, and Meg looks up with a wide grin and a wave.
"Take care, kiddo!" Gabe waves from beside Rowena, with Crowley lurking behind them both.
Dean wins Meg's gaze one last time before she finally climbs up inside her sister's Jeep. 
"How are you feeling about everything, Dean?" Billie asks.
He's nervous and excited, a little bit scared but mostly hopeful. He's determined to make amends with people and looks forward to seeing his little girl outside therapy and hugging his niece and nephew.
"Good," Dean answers.
Dean doesn't fool himself into believing he can repair all of his faults in 28 days. His provisional relationship with Billie was hard-won. He respects her knowledge and advice, but he'll never be open enough with her to tell her everything.
"Good," she replies. "Don't forget — 90 meetings in 90 days. Look for a sponsor..."
Billie rattles off the rules that Dean used to consider common sense. After the last few weeks, though, Dean has realized how bogus the phrase common sense is because so many people walk around without knowledge that Dean's taken for granted since he can remember knowing anything. The fact that that phrase masquerades itself as a universal truth is kind of bullshit, in Dean's opinion.
"Yeah, I remember: how long have they been sober; are they full of shit; do I like them—"
"You know I have to say these things, right?" Billie smirks and arches a brow.
Dean chuckles and nods. "Am I stealin' your thunder?"
Billie actually laughs.
The night before he leaves, Dean does all his laundry except his pajamas and packs his bag. He leaves the bag on what was Jack's bed six days ago, denying the 47th urge to call the kid because he promised himself he wouldn’t call Jack before Jack called him. 
In the dark of night, the emotions he accepted earlier at face value become garbled and daunting. He starts to see the edges of rational thought being peeled back by the demons lurking in his subconscious, slithering out to tell him that he's foolish and undeserving and will fail.
The sober experience of his darker cognition is fascinating and frightening. He takes a good chunk of time lying there, stunned to his core that he was ever blind enough to fall for this.
"Fuck off," he mutters as he rolls to his side. "I'm gettin' the fuck outta here and on with my life."
The next morning, Dean and Pamela go for a hike like usual. They have coffee, and she sits with him while he smokes.
"You gonna be OK?" he asks.
"What, without you and Megan, the 2.1 twins?"
Dean startles at Pamela's tone and arched brow.
He never meant for anyone, not even Crowley, to hear his and Meg's 2.1 mantras. It was never about their lack of faith in anyone else. It was always about their bond and shared need to hear it from the other one to get them through.
"You're not subtle, either of you," she drolls, shifting her gaze to the woods. 
"PB..."
"It's fine, Dean." She peeks back at him. "And, yes, I'll be fine, too. Once I get my ground legs back and earn more trust from my mother-in-law."
"Sammy can help, ya know," Dean reminds her of when Sam visited and heard her case. He told Dean on the spot that he wanted to help her, and Dean wasted no time relaying the message and ensuring Pamela had Sam's phone number and email address.
"He can, legally, and I'll call him." Pamela nods, keeping her eyes on the wooded area just beyond the deck where she and Dean had just walked and laughed. "But Jesse's mom hasn't let me forget for one second how much she doesn't trust me."
Dean doesn't take his eyes off Pamela's trembling profile. "Then make her."
Pamela blinks and inhales a stuttering breath before glancing over at Dean with watery eyes. She sniffles as she accepts Dean's open, outstretched hand to squeeze. 
"Thank you," she whispers, letting the tears fall. "I'm gonna miss you, ya little shit."
Dean laughs as he pulls her in for a hug.
At 12:25 PM, Pamela is seated on the desk, arching across the expanse to help Alex pick a dress for her sorority's spring formal, Rowena is explaining to Missouri the plot of the last murder mystery she starred in, and Gabriel is practically gnawing Dean's ear from the side of his head with small-talk. 
"Gabe?"
"Yeah, man," Gabe turns to face Dean head-on, cracking his knuckles and bouncing on his toes.
"I'm gonna need you to dial back the Tigger impression by at least five clicks, OK, because I'd like to be somewhat chill when my kid gets here to pick me up."
"Oh! Right. Yes." Gabe salutes Dean before shoving his hands in his pockets and turning back to watch the door. He mutters chill to himself a couple of times before the familiar deep blue BMW rolls up in front of the door.
"Oh, my word, look at that," Rowena marvels as she and Pamela join Dean and Gabe at the door. "The wee lass is all grown up! Ye must be so proud, Dean."
Dean nods. Emma's a gift that he'll work the rest of his life to deserve getting, and he'll always be proud of her. But his heart fumbles over the fact that he missed the milestone of being the one to teach her to drive.
Lydia steps out of the passenger side, waving from the curb.
"Well, go on," Pamela encourages Dean. "Get out there and show 'em what you're made of, Daddy."
Dean's heart swells to near bursting as he hugs everyone goodbye, including Missouri and Alex.
"You take good care of yourself, Dean Winchester," Missouri says with a kind Missouri smile.
"Yes, ma'am," he nods before scanning the faces of his friends and walking out the door into his future.
"How's the Casbah sound?" Lydia asks from the back seat.
Dean loves the Casbah, and Lydia knows that, but he can't answer her; he's too busy watching his baby girl drive a fucking car.
Lydia shifts forward as Emma signals, checks her mirrors, and carefully changes lanes. 
"Pretty wild, huh?" she mutters over Dean's shoulder. "Just yesterday, you were teaching her to ride a bike."
Dean huffs a small chuckle and nods his head. "Straight from a trike to a two-wheeler. No trainin’ wheels for my girl."
Emma rolls her eyes over a blush and a sheepish grin. "So. Casbah?"
"Casbah," Dean confirms with a grin of his own, turning his shaded gaze toward the horizon.
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"Hi," he starts, glancing around a circle of people of all ages and walks of life. "I'm... Dean. And I'm an alcoholic and addict."
"Hi, Dean," from the crowd.
Dean nods and draws a deep breath, struggling to keep his head up and maintain eye contact with each person. Ugly fears and insecurities threaten his spirit, but he shoos them away.
"I'm 28 days sober, and I feel... good. Went to dinner with my little girl tonight. She and her mom're waitin' for me down the street at the ice cream place." 
The strangers in the circle fidget, mumble, and nod. The tension he feels is all about himself and his inability to just blend the fuck in. He knew doing this all over again with a new group of people would be hard. Then, his eyes land on a burly, bearded guy with clear blue eyes and an encouraging smile. He holds the man’s gaze like it’s a life raft.
“I’ve only been out a few hours, so I still have to call and apologize to everyone for fuckin’ up so bad.”
The man nods, shifting forward in interest. The kind of attention the man is giving him might make him feel like a bug under a microscope under other circumstances, but the man’s earnest compassion and engagement serve to embolden Dean.
“The first call’s the biggest, but they’ll all be tough. My buddy — my best friend and former boss — that’s kinda the eye of the storm. I think if I call him first, that’ll help me get through the others.”
It feels good to think out loud and strategize, knowing his audience has been there and done that. Dean’s especially keen to learn where his potential new friend has been.
After the meeting is done, Dean makes his way over to the man in question. There are two other people trying to talk to him, and Dean starts to worry that he’s one of those guys Billie told him about who accepts everyone’s sponsorship request for status or whatever.
“...I know someone I think’ll be a good fit f’you, Sorento. Lemme reach out and see when he might could grab a cuppa coffee.”
“Thanks, Benny. Never thought my sponsor’d fall off the wagon, ya know?”
“I hear ya, brother, and I’m sorry. You take care, and I’ll get right back, ya hear?”
The taller, darker-skinned man nods before backing away, and the other person Dean thought was waiting to talk to Benny follows.
“Hey, Dean.” Benny smiles, extending a hand. “I’m Benny. Glad you could make it tonight.”
Dean nods, accepting Benny’s hand and shaking it. “Thanks, man. I appreciate your support.”
“You’ve got it, brother.” 
They chat about the ins and outs of meetings and sobriety for a few minutes until Dean realizes that Emma and Lydia are still waiting for him. 
“Well, I gotta go catch up with my daughter, but uh... thanks again.” 
Dean shifts his weight, having flashbacks to his teen years and the first time he asked someone out on a date.
“But I was wonderin’ if you were a sponsor to anyone else? Or... if you had room for one more?”
Benny smiles wide and bright. “It’d be an honor, Dean. What’s your number?”
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On his first full day outside, at 9 AM, Dean starts dialing numbers.
"Hey, Cas," he pauses to cringe at the tremor in his too-eager voice. "It's uh... it's Dean."
There's a split second of silence, and Dean almost hangs up.
"I know, Dean. I have your contact in my phone with a picture of you and Claire from Thanksgiving."
The memory of that day is bittersweet to Dean for a dozen reasons, not the least of which was Claire's mental health at the time. She'd run away from home less than a week after her mom lost her months-long battle with ovarian cancer. Cas had just gotten Claire back and decided to have a small gathering at their home to celebrate her return.
Claire didn't feel like celebrating.
"He just doesn't understand," Claire whispered through the tears that Dean worked overtime to wipe away.
"Maybe he doesn't understand exactly how you feel, honey, but he does love you."
"Does he even miss her?" Her trembling lip broke Dean's heart all over again.
"I know he misses her. He loved your mom, Claire. So much."
"He's so... happy."
Dean nodded. "Yeah. 'Coz you're home. You're his little girl and his only family. Try to understand that." 
"Dean? Are you— are you there?"
Dean jolts from his reverie and shrugs off Cas's matter-of-fact mention of that day lest it gives his demons the upper hand again.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here. I'm calling..." Dean takes a deep breath and looks out his kitchen window to watch a couple of squirrels chasing each other through the parking lot. 
"Cas, I'm sorry. You're my best friend, and I love and respect you, but I defied your order and endangered the team. I broke at least four laws that day and put you and the department under scrutiny 'coz of my own fucked up mess. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure out that I could help myself and that I'm worth helping, and to stop hurting other people."
Cas is quiet for longer this time. Dean yearns to fill the silence or turn back time or run away and hide. Instead, he breathes through it and waits for whatever response Cas gives him because this is sobriety.
"You made it.” Cas’s tone is full of pride and satisfaction.
Dean anticipated 17 scenarios, but this takes him off-guard. Before he can ask what he means, Cas fills in the blank.
"I read about rehab and the likelihood of people making it through their prescribed programs. The statistics are 30%—"
"Yeah, and my group was only seven people, so 30% is 2.1." Dean can't help but chuckle. Cas doesn't know about his and Meg’s joke, but it doesn't matter because Cas is family, and family just gets it. 
"Well, apart from the impossibility of the existence of .1 of a human being, it's good to hear your voice, Dean. I missed you."
Dean smiles so wide his face hurts. "Missed you too, man. How's Claire?"
Through Cas's heavy sigh, Dean can hear the smile in his voice. "Claire is Claire. She missed you as well. Once you're settled, we want you to come over for dinner."
Cas doesn't rebuke Dean. He doesn't rehash the past. He doesn't tell Dean he can't come back to work — because Cas knows that Dean already knows all of that, and neither of them has time for anything but catching up and reconnecting.
"I'd love it," Dean replies. "Thank you. For accepting my apology and letting me say what I needed."
"Always. I knew you'd make it and that our relationship would endure another shift. We will always be friends, Dean."
After his call with Cas, Dean calls Bobby and Ellen. They're less gracious than Cas with their acceptance, which doesn't surprise Dean.
"You were supposed to protect your team, Dean, not put them in danger!"
Dean doesn’t argue, and he doesn’t make excuses. He listens to Ellen yell and damn him to Hell until she’s crying so hard that Bobby takes the phone away from her.
As Ellen’s sobs fade in the distance, Bobby speaks. “How you holdin’ up, boy?”
“I’m good, Bobby. Thanks for takin’ my call.”
“Never wouldn’t,” Bobby answers. “Stay strong, kid. We both love ya; she just needs some time.”
“I love you, too, Bobby — both of ya.”
Jo flat-out blocks his call. Her resistance surprises him even less than her mother’s ire. He won’t give up on Jo, no matter how hard she makes it for him. He knows deep down that she hasn’t given up on him either.
Casey’s gasp is her answer. 
“Case.”
“You OK?”
“I am. Now.” 
He lets the memories of her soft, dark eyes and gentle, capable hands loving him more than he could bear carry him through the call.
“I’m sorry, Case. I hurt you so many times, and I never made it easy to be with me. You’re a beautiful, beautiful woman, whip fuckin’ smart, and so good.”
“We’ve been over this, Dean...”
Dean doesn’t cut in where she’s left a vacancy. He won’t take advantage of her anymore. He waits for her to pick up her thoughts. He wants her to say what she means.
And she does.
“Dean, I... I’ll never regret you or resent you.”
After a moment.
“Thank you,” she whispers, and Dean knows she’s crying.
He calls Victor, Nick, and Zeke, each awkward, compulsory, and hostile, respectively, but being uncomfortable is Dean’s new normal. And, for some reason, he kind of digs it. So, he’ll continue to make amends, no matter how it makes him feel.
After a week outside, Dean and Meg finally find a hiking trail they like and a coffee place they love before hitting the Lowe's Garden Center.
“Is this a joke?” Meg pokes at the limp lavender plant with indignation. “I can’t even believe they have this out for sale.”
“What do you care? We’re not here for lavender.” 
Dean wanders a few paces down the aisle. He’s never tended a plant in his life, so he researched and decided on a spider plant to start.
“Maybe I’m here for lavender.” Meg continues to inspect the small section of drooping topiaries.
Dean stops and glares at her over his shoulder. “You told me you wanted a buncha succulents. You said you wanted a ‘cool little terrarium’ or some shit.”
“Maybe I decided to also get lavender.” Meg shrugs, lifting one of the pathetic florals.
“Now that you’ve seen the stellar selection of lavender?” Dean arches a brow.
“Maybe I want a challenge,” she mutters, squatting with one plant to compare it to another.
“Maybe, maybe, maybe...” Dean rolls his eyes and turns smack into Castiel.
“Hello, Dean.”
“Cas!” Dean takes a step back, gripping Cas’s shoulders. He can’t believe his luck at seeing him while he’s with Meg.
“Hey, this is my friend, Meg.”
He motions to Meg, who is now sitting cross-legged on the ground with three dead plants in front of her. 
“Meg..." Dean snaps her to attention. "This is Cas.”
Meg blinks up at the men from where she sits on the ground. 
“Well. Hello, Cas.” 
She abandons her brief fascination to stand up and swipe her jeans and hands clean before shaking Castiel’s hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
The fire chief looks adorably confused as usual, as he takes her hand in his. “And I have heard nothing about you.”
Meg side-eyes Dean, and he almost laughs out loud. She’ll drag him later for not telling Castiel about her, but the only reason he didn’t was to let her show him herself.
“Whatcha here for, Cas?” Dean watches his friends reluctantly release each other’s grip.
“Tomato plants and strawberry plants. You know how much sun our side patio gets.”
Dean nods. Before he can reply, his phone buzzes with a text. It’s the notification he set for Pamela, and his gaze darts to Meg, who’s pulling her own phone from her back pocket.
“Hang on, Cas — got a message I need to look at.” Dean pulls his phone from his pocket. When he looks down, his world tilts.
Jack’s back.
“Fuck,” Dean mutters with a sigh before snagging Meg’s worried gaze.
“I take it you’ve received bad news?” Cas asks.
“Well, it ain’t good,” Dean replies, pocketing his phone. “Dinner Thursday?”
“Yes. Claire wants dumplings. I’ve had two failed trial runs making them, so it could be an... interesting meal.”
Meg snorts at Dean’s side, drawing his attention. “Cas’s a terrible cook.”
“No shit?” Meg exaggerates with her hands on her hips.
“I need to go — get the plants and ingredients for tonight’s test.”
Meg stifles a cackle, and Dean hip-checks her. “OK, well, lemme know if I can help with the dumplings, Cas.”
They say their goodbyes, and barely before Castiel is out of earshot, Meg starts in. 
"You didn't tell me your 'weird little friend Cas' was hot, Dean."
Dean chuckles and rolls his eyes. "I thought it was implied when I said you'd like him, Megan. Just gather your sad little flowers so we can go."
“Meh, I want succulents.” 
Dean spends the entire rest day bashing himself for waiting to call Jack. He wanted to give the kid space. He wanted to respect him, and... fuck, he can’t save everyone.
He calls Benny so he doesn’t drag Meg down his rabbit hole.
“Whaddaya want outta this, Dean? To call the kid and gloat?” Benny asks.
Dean cringes. “Is that what it sounds like?”
“Little bit.”
“Man, I’m not tryna be a martyr here; he’s a kid!” Dean really believes what he’s saying just as much as he tries to see what Benny sees.
“He’s a kid, but he ain’t yours, and he ain’t you. Remember your boundaries and your goals.”
Benny’s right, and Dean’s reminded of why he chose him to be his sponsor.
“Thanks, Benny. Thanks for takin’ my call, and thanks for being a great sponsor.” 
That night, Dean stumbles across something online that stuns him for a second. It’s labeled as Cute Gryphon Sparkle Meme. It’s a greyscale drawing of a cartoon gryphon with a sort of paint-by-number chart of how to color it based on your own interpretation of the instructions like “the color that best describes ‘cute’” and “the color that first comes to your head”.
Dean shares the link with Jack, hoping he gets his phone back soon so he can appreciate just how cute it is.
One month, eight hikes with Meg, and three trips to the garden center for more plants (because Dean has now decided that he fucking loves plants) later, a familiar, feminine voice jolts Dean from his reverie in the produce section.
“Dean?” 
He turns from where he’s filling his hand cart with all he needs for the guacamole he’s bringing to Sam and Jess’s tomorrow to find Tessa Porter.
“Tessa!” Dean smiles easily at her smile and how she moves closer to him without hesitation. 
She’s fresh-faced, her hair’s in a ponytail, and she’s wearing workout clothes. Dean drops three good-sized avocados into his basket and turns his back on the vegetables to focus on the woman facing him.
“You look great, Dean. How’ve you been?”
“Thanks! You just come from the gym? You look great, too. Not at all like you just worked out or anything, but fit. Like healthy. And glowing.”
He bites his tongue to stop from shoving his foot down his gullet.
Tessa grins and chuckles quietly, peeking into his basket. “Yoga class. Making some guac?”
Dean draws a breath and nods, looking down at his ingredients. “Yeah. My brother requested it for a cookout tomorrow. He says I make the best guac in three counties.”
Tessa tilts her head and purses her lips. “Hmm. I’ll have to try it sometime.” 
She snags Dean’s gaze, and he’s suddenly out of breath. 
Does she know what he did? Is she hitting on him? Have her eyes always been that color?
“Yeah. I’d uh... I’d like to make it for you sometime.”
Dean swears her irises change color as they stand there — honey to jade to turquoise to cerulean.
After a few beats, Tessa raises her eyebrows. “Are you going to ask me for my number?”
Dean blinks then chuckles, shaking his head. “I gotta ask somethin' else first — you know about rehab, right?”
Tessa nods. “I know. And I know you aren’t supposed to date right away, but... I’d like to be friends. If that’s OK? I’ve missed seeing you around, Dean.”
“Friends,” he echoes skeptically.
He and Tessa never discussed dating before because it would have been against department policy, but that didn’t stop him from flirting with her every chance he had. Still, they had a genuine connection — which is the real reason, even in Dean’s most reckless state, that he never crossed a line with her.
Tessa nods again. “For now — friends. Think you can handle that?”
Dean holds her soft, kaleidoscope gaze for a moment before shifting his basket to his other arm and reaching into his pocket for his phone. 
“Here.” He hands his unlocked phone to Tessa. “I would very much like it if you’d add yourself to my contacts so I can call ya sometime.”
Tessa grins again as she accepts the proffered device to quickly input her name and number. She flicks her eyes to his again as she hands him back his phone.
“I look forward to hearing from you. See you soon, Dean.”
Tessa looks him up and down before turning on her heel and sauntering away.
Dean’s eyes drop to the sway of her hips, and he shakes his head. 
“Hate sayin’ g’bye but love watchin’ her walk away,” he mutters under his breath with a hearty chuckle before heading to the aisle with chips and crackers, stifling the urge to Leprechaun kick next to the bananas.
Fifty-eight days sober feels pretty damn good.
Epilogue: coming soon
Please let me know what you think!
Series Masterlist | Dean Winchester Masterlist | MJ’s Masterlist
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a-happy-beginning · 19 days
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I would love to move in with you.
—Killian Jones, Once Upon a Time, “The Other Shoe”
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carsonnieve · 1 year
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masterpost of my fics on ao3
Just doing this because I want to have something pinned on my page here but well, a reminder of my old fics from different fandoms because kudos and comments are appreciated as well so it motivates me to keep on writing. Hopefully there's new ones updated soon as long as my inspiration kicks in.
Currenly working on two mevie fics so let's see how that goes!
username: carsonnieve
Let's start with the ones that are completed and I'm really proud of.
it's always about fate pairing: beca and chloe (pitch perfect) rating: T
Summary: Chloe sighed and walked in the coffee shop with the phone in her hands. She didn’t want to have this conversation today and yet there she was, talking about it when she just wanted a coffee and have a relaxing afternoon writing down new ideas for her stories and not pining over her online friend. Then the moment she looked up she saw someone she really wanted to see too and the reason why her heart was so divided and yet confusing. Beca.
2. unsay these spoken words pairing: regina mills and emma swan (once upon a time) rating: T
Summary: Because maybe, after all, she could take the pain and continue with her life. But maybe she thought she could, when actually her heart was already broken and the scattered pieces all over her chest were not enough to make her realize that she was alone, and hurt. She had hope... until she saw the ring on her finger.
3. fool for you pairing: harry hook x evie grimhilde (descendants) rating: T
Summary: Her smile forever gone after the images came back to her mind, sending chills all over her body and a strange feeling going slowly up her spine. And in that instant, she closed her eyes. Right when it hit her. Right when Harry stood up and placed a hand on her arm. “It reminds ye o’ that night, eh?"
4. let me pairing: mal and evie (descendants) rating: T
Summary: "Mal?" "I'm fine. Let's change and go dance, okay?" The girl tried to slip away from her arms but Evie kept holding her because she knew something was off. And it was right there, in that hug, when she felt a sting of pain way worse than the last. Her hand immediately went to her skin to keep it hidden. But Evie's eyes were already on the injury. And Mal was so ready to hear her complain about the dress she just destroyed because she wasn't careful enough with it. And to be honest, she just couldn't deal with that in that exact moment.
5. watch me ride the beat pairing: mal and evie (descendants) rating: E
Summary: “Oh! I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking.” Wow, she’s even prettier in front of me. Evie thought with both of her hands on her shoulders for support, as the blonde’s hands kept a hold on her hips, keeping her still. “I’m really sorry.” The brunette ran her fingers through her hair and her other hand touched the girl’s nape, without her even noticing it. She seemed to be too busy holding Evie by her waist. Her fingers slightly touching her bare back. “Don’t worry. It’s not your fault. I wasn’t paying attention either.” or the smutty club!au fic no one asked for but i needed to write
and here comes the unfinished ones but that will be finished one day, trust me.
some things are meant to be pairing: mal and evie (descendants) rating: M
Summary: Everyone knew what a soulmate was back in Auradon, where princes and princesses lived their own happily ever after. Where their parents taught them what true love was without fear. Needless to say they believed in their own destiny but the idea of having a soulmate was so exciting for all of them. But back on The Isle… Descendants of pure evil weren’t fond of the idea, especially considering what their parents taught them; "love is not for us, love is weakness, we’re villains and you are our next generation to take over the world and finally get the revenge we so desire." But everything changed when four of them were sent to Auradon. And it all started when two girls were 6 years old... or the Soulmate!AU nobody asked for but I really wanted to write.
2. to find the light even in the darkest places pairing: mal and evie (descendants + shadowhunters universe) rating: E
Summary: Evie and Harry are two of the best shadowhunters of their generation. They never get in trouble and they always get the job perfectly done… until they go on a mission and everything starts to change and leads them into an unexpected path. Should they continue their normal lives or live as they want to without thinking of the consequences? Is it more important to find and follow love than their duties as shadowhunters and working for the Clave? Even when a new source of evil arises and things start to get more serious… is everything worth fighting for? It all starts with a simple order from the Clave… or the shadowhunters!au no one asked for but we needed to write
There's also two in Spanish in case I have followers who actually speaks the language and not just me and the last one is one of my favorites from my favorite couple so please check it out, thanksssss!!
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ladystrallan · 1 year
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Once Upon a Time season 6B thoughts
I’m rewatching OUAT and I wanted to share some of my opinions on each season!
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- Ooh Ruth pulling the knife
- I was wondering for a second where snow was
- I forgot she was cursed
- Dad???
- “If I wanted advice I doubt I’d take it from a pirate” low blow
- Omg the coin
- “That demon box” not the alarm clock
- Robin coming back is so stupid I can’t believe it
- Hook is going to propose!!!
- The ring is not that fabulous though
- Daddy issues David
- His lucky coin :(
- Yikes Robin
- Aw he did the deal pro bono :(
- Rumple… what a softie
- “The hearts of my enemies” why do you still have those???
- I don’t even care that they’re kissing this is just stupid
- Not them spinning around
- Pleasure Island!!!
- Omg Pinocchio
- “I’m also your father” ok strange man I’ve never met
- Knife fight
- Sad moment for David
- Great acting though
- Awww this is cute
- Omg hook killed david’s dad!!!
- Noooo this is not good
- ‘The first ogres war’ so there’s multiple???
- They need to trip them or something
- Not the wilhelm scream lol
- Slayyyyyy Rumple
- Ogre war redemption arc
- No bae :(
- #bullying
- Rumple :(
- Bae I thought you wanted him to be good
- Giving mixed signals here
- Omg he memory erased him so he wouldn’t turn dark
- Awwww this is so cute
- They’re engaged!
- I am so sick of the EQ just go away
- “I sleep in hay! … which is on dirt” lol
- Oh no
- Emma is really good at finding out things before hook can tell her
- Not the ring coming off…
- I bet the arrow is gonna point at her
- They’re going to sword fight???
- I knew it
- Are they just twins now or what?
- This is stupid
- I thought Regina couldn’t use that wand
- Plot hole alert
- I completely forgot about this
- Oh no
- Gideon no
- Can they not stop the submarine once it goes?
- Kraken hunting time!
- Aladdin and jasmine are back!
- Did he just make him into a sceptre???
- No one remembers achmed I guess
- CGI is looking a little rough
- What is this outfit Regina???
- Ariel! Love her
- That magic carpet cgi… bad
- Drunk snow lol
- Omg it was Jafar!
- “I can see my hovel from here” why does everyone have a hovel in this show???
- Awwwww captainswan
- Of course it was Gideon
- Ok kill the black fairy is not a bad thing to do
- Not the minor miners
- Ooh spooky intro
- Slay
- Nothing beats a good left hook
- “I’m your real mother” okay grandma (literally)
- Is rumbelle back together???
- Yasssss
- Omg Henry is possessed
- “Let’s get my pirate back” awwwww
- Omg I hate this ugly cgi spider
- Nooooo it was Roderick
- Omg not Isaac
- He’s so creepy
- Gideon what the fuck
- Ooh the lost boys are back
- Lots of returning people this season
- I wish hades would return :(
- Rumple slayyyyy
- Why do her guards look like they’re from Star Wars?
- Nooooo she killed Roderick
- “This is on you, Gideon. And my boot.” Good line
- Omg she has his heart
- “Dark one junior” lol
- PTA meeting is getting intense
- RUMBELLE
- Omg she got through!!!
- She has such Coraline other mother vibes
- Lol peace out loser
- Omg tiger lily
- Omg underworld reference??? The flower growing in the crack
- Nice to see long hair rumple again
- Emma’s name was his curse break thingy!!!
- They’re going to burn him at the stake???
- Awwwww this is so cute
- Slay Leroy
- Get a room
- Omg they’re all asleep
- Oh good not for long
- Ooh zelena in the recap
- “Why don’t you practice on my axe” omg
- This is the tin man I know it
- Ooh you’re looking for trouble touching zelena’s baby
- Yikes captainswan keep it PG
- “Am I interrupting something?” Omg
- Omg is that the bassinet that Zelena was abandoned in?
- We love a girlboss that takes things into her own hands
- “I sacrificed hades for you” that was a mistake
- But seriously Regina is not one bit grateful for what Zelena did for her, give up her true love to save her life
- At a time when Regina had Henry and was friends with the Charmings and Zelena had no one
- And Regina even BLAMES her for Robin’s death
- Robin had it coming but that’s another thing
- Snow’s date with Whale…
- Slay zelena
- Like a lion could take her… let’s be real
- “Go back to Oz” LOW BLOW
- That was so unwarranted
- Maybe if you guys weren’t so awful to Zelena then she wouldn’t fall into those traps
- That is so selfless to give up her magic to help everyone
- She is amazing
- That apology is long overdue
- Omg not Malcom
- That pathetic little man
- Baby rumple!
- The perfect name? How did you end up with Rumplestiltskin?
- Omg Rumple was supposed to be the saviour! (I remembered that)
- Rumple smash!
- At least there was no glass involved
- OMG ITS THE BLACK FAIRY!!!
- AND GIDEON!!!
- Where did Regina get a green car?
- ZELENA HIT HER WITH THE CAR
- SLAYYYYYY
- Zelena 1, black fairy 0
- Twist!!!
- She is the evil omg
- “I need my power” Rumple really had no chance
- Nooo he named him that because he hated him
- Something is suspicious
- Awwww he asked Henry to be his best man
- I knew rumple was up to something
- Why is he doing this???
- I love this episode!
- I know a lot of people don’t like it but I think it makes so much sense for this show to have a musical episode
- Like the Disney movies are musicals
- And the songs slap
- Ooh slay intro
- Omg it’s just so good!!!
- Everyone is amazing but josh dallas has a great voice
- Ooh that neck brake choreo
- I’m not a Regina fan but I have to admit she slayed
- Lana did a great job
- “You’ve come to say goodbye” nooooo
- This is so sad
- Killian’s song might be my second favourite
- It just fits him so well and Colin slayed
- Poison dart!!!
- They should have brought Hades back for this episode
- Greg was in the obc of Assassins
- Rumple should have gotten a song tbh
- Zelena slays so hard!!!
- Wicked always wins is the best song
- Although they should have made a wicked reference
- Rebecca Mader is so awesome
- Rumple why are you being evil???
- It is a little silly that their plan is just sing at her
- Not Henry tossing the book
- That was kinda funny
- Slayyyy
- I love how her song is the OUAT theme
- Captainswan is so cute
- Their vows!!!
- I love happy beginning such a good closing number
- This is so beautiful
- “The black fairy’s curse, it’s here!” Slay Leroy we love an iconic line
- Awwww season 1 recap
- You know what I miss?
- THERE IS A TOWN IN MAINE
- Omg this is older Henry
- Oooh curse again
- Archie: Henry, I think you’re crazy
- Not Emma in the mental hospital
- Not Fiona being the new mayor!!!
- How many sons is she going to try and kidnap???
- Gold & Sons that’s kinda cute
- Lost their mother??? What happened to belle???
- Pull ups in the mental hospital lol
- I love a good hook and david team up
- “We fought for our love and we won” awwwww
- “She said she was going to the store and she never came back” noooo
- Deadbeat belle…
- Omg not the EQ
- Awwww he called Killian his son
- “Hmmm. Merlot” LOL
- A dragon… is that maleficent?
- NOT THE BADLY PHOTOSHOPPED PICTURES OF BELLE TRAVELLING
- I CANT OMG
- Rumple please tell me you don’t believe this
- Not the falling video
- Omg no don’t burn the book
- I can’t believe she did that
- “Hello there, mummy” KILLIAN
- Omg that is so funny
- She came back!!!
- Slayyy rumple
- Noooo tempting him with Bae
- “All magic comes with a price” slayyyyy
- Omg dead
- Lol slay Henry
- “Some honeymoon, huh?” Lol I love them
- Omg charming swearing now you know it’s serious
- Not his dark one self convincing him
- Yasssss Rumple character development
- Noooo he resisted but it didn’t work
- Wtf
- Omg gideon is a baby again
- A little weird but ok
- Awwwww rumbelle
- Of course Robin proposed gotta do that fan service
- And in the tackiest way too
- OMG RUMBELLE
- THEY ARE ADORABLE
- Awww this is so cute
- Everyone got their happy ending
- Honestly a perfect finale
- Idk if I’m gonna watch season 7 because I remember hating it and this is such a perfect ending
How I feel about the characters this season
Love: Zelena, Emma, Hook
Like: Rumple, Belle, David, Jasmine, Ariel
Neutral: Henry, Snow, Gideon, Fiona (she’s camp idk), Aladdin, Regina
Dislike:
Hate:
I honestly can’t hate anyone this season
Season rating: 9/10
Not my favourite season but actually a really solid ending to an amazing show. Some of it was dumb but a lot of it was awesome. I loved the musical episode and the finale! Tbh it should have ended here.
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ladylooch · 1 year
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I remembered that Timo's parents exist 🥴https://www.tumblr.com/ladylooch/725109386781032448/would-emma-be-jealous-of-a-former-hook-up?source=share
Do they apologize to Emma before or after Lee is born?
Yeah, we kinda wanted to forget about them huh? It's a little more complicated than an apology because of Timo.
The topic of his parents comes up after Lio is born, right before the wedding. Emma encourages Timo to talk to his parents several times throughout the pregnancy, but he refuses. He gets more and more upset about what happened. Even though things had seemingly ended okay with his mom, their next conversation didn’t go well, so Timo stopped trying. 
His parents have tried several times since then to connect with Timo. Larissa vowed to stay out of it, not wanting to lose relationships with her parents or Timo. Timo didn’t even want to tell his parents when Lio was born. He eventually sent a text without a picture. His parents sent gifts for Lio and flowers for Emma. They tried. Timo remained stubborn.
“Babe, I am worried you’re going to regret not having your parents there.” I say as we are finishing up going over the RSVPs for the wedding. His parents didn’t get an invite. “We’re also putting Larissa in a really shitty position.”
“She’s supportive. She gets to be part of our life.” I stare at him wordlessly. “My parents were aware of the rules before they left Jersey. Them not wanting to participate in our life is their choice. Not mine.” He puts a hand on his chest. I glance over at the bassinet Lio is passed out in. He’s swaddled up in a perfect bundle on his back.
“Well, maybe you don’t do it for you.. or for me.. maybe it’s for Lio.” I know that gets him because he pushes back from the table to leave. I grab his hand, tugging him to stop so I can wrap him into a hug. “What they said and have done is really shitty. I’m not dismissing that. But is it the rest of our life shitty?”
“Yeah, Em. It is. Because you’re my life. And fuck them for treating you like trash.”
When Lio is one, Timo’s parents still haven’t met him. It happens completely by accident.
I’m out at a cafe by where Timo is training, doing some work while Lio naps in his stroller. I look up to see Claudia and Charly walking by to sit at a table. I look down immediately, not sure if his parents would even recognize me. I recently went blonde with Larissa’s assistance, last time they saw me my hair was chestnut brown.
“Emma?” Claudia asks as she stops next to my chair. Her eyes dip down to the stroller where Timo’s mini is sucking on his nook. Her hand shakes as it goes to her mouth, touching her pursed lips. 
I don’t know what to do. I am stunned. Shocked. Should I leave? Are they going to freak out, thinking it’s me that is keeping their son and grandson away? What am I going to tell Timo?
“Hi.” I finally say, shutting my laptop. I push my sunglasses up to my head, glancing at Timo’s dad who is silent. He too is staring at Lio. Neither of them can take their eyes off of our son. I follow their gazes to where Lio sleeps. He looks so dapper because Timo dressed him before he went to training. He has on cute blue shorts with a white button up shirt and stark white Adidas. 
“Um, this is Lio.” I whisper. 
Claudia blinks as tears roll down her cheeks. She eventually looks at me and shakes her head. 
“I’m so sorry. We should go. Timo wouldn’t want us to meet him.” She turns, grabbing Charly’s forearm. “You don’t have to tell him about this.” They both walk off before I can say anything.
The whole interaction crushes me. I don’t tell Timo until Lio is down for the night. I have a glass of red wine perched on my thigh as we watch the sunset on our back deck. 
“I saw your parents today.” 
“Wha….t?” He sputters, turning his whole body to look at me. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Nothing happened, but it made me really sad for them. For us.” Timo’s gaze travels down to my leggings and away from my face. “Babe, your mom walked away for you. Because she knows you don’t want them to know him. And she just grabbed your dad and left.”
“See that’s the kind of shit I’m talking about. They just walked away and didn’t even meet our son?” I shake my head aggressively no, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.
“No, your mom was respecting your wishes. The things you’ve been adamant about over the last few years. She walked away because she loves you that much. Even though it killed her.” Turmoil clouds his eyes. “You think I’m a good mom?”
“The best.”
“I would have done the same thing your mom did today for Lio. No hesitation.” Timo slides his hand from mine, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’m still so mad at them, Em.” He says after a moment.
“I know. And you also really miss them.” I stroke his neck over his heartbeat.
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spartanguard · 1 year
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imzadi
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Summary: Lt. Commander Emma Swan and Commander Killian Jones, both of the USS Misthaven, have been having secret rendezvous for the past few years. Not just lovers, they're imzadi—not quite soulmates, but not far from that either. Maybe someday they'll reveal the depth of their feelings for one another. But today, they're just going to have another secret meeting, like they always do. (A CS Star Trek: TNG AU)
A/N: It's time for my annual self-indulgent birthday fic! This Star Trek AU (based on Riker & Troi) has been in the works for YEARS but I finally got it done in the last couple of days. For those familiar with Star Trek canon, I take some liberties for the purposes of telling this story, but I tried to stay true to the mythos. Thanks to @optomisticgirl​ for the quick beta!!! Enjoy!
rated M | 5.1 k words | AO3
“Dismissed, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Lt. Commander Emma Swan, security chief of the USS Misthaven, nodded at her captain’s order and exited the bridge. She was off duty for the next 12 hours and knew exactly how she planned on spending the majority of them—assuming the person she was hoping to spend them with was also amenable to that plan. And she had a feeling he would be. (He always was, at least.)
She entered the vacant turbolift and gave the verbal command to the crew quarters’ level; she knew he’d be easy to convince, but she had to find him first.
The lift stopped before reaching her destination, and the door opened to let another passenger on board—and there he was: Commander Killian Jones, first officer of the ship, and brother of the captain. Half Betazoid, half human; completely attractive—and completely aware of it. There was no way the disheveled style of his dark hair or the length of his gingery scruff were up to Starfleet code, and honestly, no one should look as good as he did in his teal and black uniform—all lean muscle and swagger. It was infuriating. 
And it would probably bother her more if she wasn’t aware of the fact that he could back it up, and all too well. 
“Swan,” he greeted as he boarded the lift, stopping in front of her. 
“Jones,” she answered, looking him right in the eye. Honestly, those were her favorite of his features, even more than his elf-like ears and incredible backside. Betazoid people naturally had black irises, but he’d inherited some incredible blue ones from his human mother that were complemented even more by the color of his uniform. It sounded cliche, but the best way she could describe them was as the color of the sea—and like the sea, they changed.
They were a clear, bright blue when he was happy; a cool blue-gray when he was distressed; and when he was experiencing a very strong emotion, either his own or someone else’s, they disappeared into the black of his pupils. Being half-Betazoid meant Killian was an empath: not only extra attuned to emotions of those around him, but also well aware of his own, and it showed, if you knew what to look for.
And right now, as she stared up at him, with him intently gazing back, she smirked watching them shift from bright aqua to black as night. She loved watching the effect of her own arousal on him.
Thankfully, the door closed behind him at just the right time, and he promptly invaded her space, hand and prosthetic hook coming to rest on her hips while his forehead touched hers. He closed his eyes and in a raspy voice asked, “Swan, what are you doing tonight?”
Her hands came to rest on his shoulders and she gently arched her pelvis forward, just grazing his, but it was enough to draw a stifled moan from him. “You,” she whispered.
His eyes opened and he gave her a wicked, sideways grin in response, cutting a dimple into that scruff and somehow raising the temperature in the lift...or maybe that was just her. 
She couldn’t resist; she fisted his uniform in her hands and pulled him to her, finding his lips with hers in a searing kiss. Their mouths battled for dominance as their tongues danced, and her thick uniform had never felt so stifling. 
Honestly, it reminded her of their first encounter, when they were on an away mission on the jungle planet of Neverland. Back then, days of tension had finally erupted in a combined moment of bliss in the humid, dense foliage, and the rest was history—for a few years now. 
Before things went past the point of no return, Emma pulled back; they both needed to calm down before they left the lift, even if the sound of his ragged breathing only made her want to jump him sooner. 
“Wait 5 minutes; go check on engineering or something,” she breathed, forcing herself to take a step back when the computer’s voice announced their arrival on her floor. 
“As you wish,” he murmured, stepping out of her way as she exited. She paused just outside the doors, attempting to calm her racing heart before heading down the corridor, but glanced back at Killian over her shoulder. As the doors shut, she saw him lean against the back of the lift with his fingers pressed to his lips, looking absolutely fuckstruck. 
Coolly (at least, as much as she was able to), she headed down the hall to her quarters; she loved that she could render such a cocky, confident man, who had a quip or innuendo for everything, completely speechless. 
Once inside her room, she kicked off her shoes and sighed as she undid the zipper at her collar, able to breathe a bit easier now that she had some privacy. She tugged it down a little further, too, just into the red panel on her uniform, allowing the air to cool her flushed chest, but still to a modest level. Honestly, she’d been planning this encounter all day—she had to leave some surprises for later.
She did a quick look around to make sure things were tidy before Killian arrived, but she didn’t really have much to create a mess; that tended to happen when you grew up an orphan and joined Starfleet as soon as you aged out of the foster system. But she tossed yesterday’s underwear in the laundry compartment and folded her baby blanket up, setting it on the recliner just as a knock rapped against the door. God, he was so old-fashioned.
She made the few strides needed to cross her narrow living space, pressed the button that slid the doors open, and there he was, back to looking prim and proper as if he hadn’t been absolutely wrecked just a few minutes ago. Things must have been much calmer wherever he’d gone, but not enough for his eyes to revert to blue. 
“You requested a report on the status in engineering?” he began with a smirk. She hated that they had to use stuff like this as a cover for their nighttime activities, but damn if he didn’t sell it.
“I did. Come in,” she answered authoritatively, stepping aside so he could enter. Once he was in the room, though, she closed the door as fast as possible.
Which was good, because a second later, she was pressed against it, with his mouth on hers once more and their bodies aligned from chest to hips. His hand found its way to the elastic around her blonde ponytail, dug a finger under it, and pulled, letting her hair fall free over her shoulder. 
Then his lips wandered, down her chin to the sensitive spot below her ear, stopping briefly to suck at it just enough to make her squirm; when her groin inevitably brushed against his as she writhed, she could feel his erection through his uniform and she really wished he’d hurry up on this, but she could always tell when he had a plan.
His left arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her held in place against him, as his hand drew a heated path up her side, over the swell of her bosom, to where her uniform was partially unfastened. He kissed his way down her neck and then began to pull the zipper down, pressing his lips against her collarbone as it became exposed, and then down her chest to where sweat was beginning to pool between her breasts. She thought—or hoped, rather—that he might get distracted there, but still he went down, over her abs until the zipper stopped, just below her belly button, pressing one last kiss on her skin there before rising back up.
As he stood, the back of his hand drifted up her stomach, oddly sending a chill down her spine and she pressed herself closer to him. Despite what was going on in his pants, his face seemed relaxed and calm as he set about his business. Carefully, he slid his hand and hook under her uniform and over her shoulders, and pressed the material off of her, gliding down her arms until it fell off her wrists, leaving her almost bare from the waist up.
His eyes perused her form for a moment, and he smirked. “I could be wrong, but I don’t really think black lace undergarments are quite up to Starfleet regulation,” he jokingly chastised as he ran his palm over the soft material covering her breasts, brushing over her hardening nipple with his thumb.
“Are you complaining?” she threw back, coquettishly. “I mean, I can find something more suitable, if you think I should,” she went on, making as if to walk over to her closet.
He gripped her waist, though, before she could get away. “I certainly wasn’t protesting,” he clarified, voice dropping an octave. As he stood there holding her in his arms, a gentle smile softened his features, one that always made butterflies take up residence in her stomach. “My stunning imzadi,” he whispered.
There was that word again—imzadi. She had to look away, because the weight of his adoring gaze on hers, especially when he said that, was too much for her to bear. She’d never forget the first time he’d called her that—it was after their shared tryst on Neverland, as their bodies cooled next to a dazzling pool of clear water. He’d said it just as reverently back then, too, and explained to her what it meant: it was a Betazoid term of endearment used to signify someone’s first. He didn’t really clarify first what, because she definitely didn’t take his virginity, but she had to admit that she’d never quite connected with someone the way she did with Killian; they’d both been abandoned young and had to fight to get to where they were today.
Maybe that was why they clashed so much—they were too similar for their own good sometimes. But that meant it was even sweeter when they came together, physically or otherwise. Truthfully, she knew she was falling for Killian in a way that she’d sworn she never would, but he’d somehow managed to slip through the few cracks in her emotional walls and was slowly breaking them down, piece by piece. 
He wasn’t quite through yet, though, and she didn’t want to let him know just how far he was until she was sure he wouldn’t break her heart like others had in the past. But every time he uttered imzadi, and every time he looked at her in a way that made her feel beautiful like no one ever had before, she found herself inching closer to that point....someday. For now, though, what they had was perfect.
She attempted to tamp down that warm, fuzzy feeling that wrapped around her heart whenever he wrapped his arms around her, but it was getting harder and harder to do. She just hoped he hadn't picked up on that emotion yet, and thankfully, he hadn’t given any indication that he had. 
Besides, she could tell that something else was getting hard. When she finally dared to look up at him, his gaze had switched back to lascivious and she could feel his firm length pressing low on her abdomen. 
“Are you just gonna stare, or are we gonna do something about this?” she asked, turning on the charm as she gripped his hips and tugged them towards her, earning a gasp from him; flirtation was typically the best way for her to move the subject matter back into her comfort zone.
“Bloody hell,” he exclaimed at the move, throwing his head back and exposing the cords of his neck. She wanted to suck at the little constellation of freckles that ran down it, but they still had far too much clothing on for what she had in mind.
Lightly gripping his wrists where they rested on her waist, she slid his hand and hook down, taking the rest of her jumpsuit with them as they followed the curve of her hips until the uniform fell in a heap at her feet. His grip landed on her rear, palming the black lace she wore there as well. 
Carefully keeping their abdomens in line, she stepped out of the crumpled clothing and shuffled them a couple steps closer to her bed. 
She couldn’t resist—she went ahead and placed a few pecks on the marks on his neck, smiling at the feel of his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Then she rose onto her bare toes and whispered in his ear, “My turn.”
Bless whoever designed these uniforms, she thought, because whenever she got to take Killian’s off of him, it was like discovering a goddamn treasure. She trailed her fingers down his neck to found the zipper tab on his collar, and started pulling, carefully and slowly. Each inch she opened revealed the thick thatch of hair that covered his firm chest, and she couldn’t wait to brush her fingers through it.
The hair tapered into a line that traveled down his strong core parallel with the zipper, leading to parts she couldn’t wait to unveil. But the zipper stopped before revealing those, and she involuntarily pouted at the interruption.
Killian gave a low chuckle at her expression, earning him a wry glare. She lightly shoved his pecs with both hands in response, but left them there, scratching her fingers through his chest hair and drawing a moan from him, this time closing his eyes and letting his head fall back. Part of her could have just stared at him like that, with his long lashes laying against his cheeks and his perfect profile highlighted by the dim lights of her room, but a more convincing part—and an increasingly wetter part—pushed her to keep going. 
Her fingers dragged up his pecs, tracing the dips of his collarbones, before slipping under the edge of his uniform and sliding the top down his arms, squeezing his perfect biceps as she trailed down to his wrists—but being careful of the hardware around his hook as she guided the garment off. 
The top now hung off his trim waist, giving her an unhindered view of his entire upper body. No matter how many times she’d seen it, she was always distracted by it: how a body could be so welcoming but also so exciting, as written by the gentle ripples of his understated, but still firm, muscles—just defined enough to let you know they were there but not enough to be uncomfortable.
That was a perfect description for their relationship, if it had to have that label: it was vague but it meant that they both felt safe with it; and they’d both been burned enough in the past that it was one of the key things that brought them together. She trusted him; she felt comfortable with him; she...well, she knew the word she wanted to use, but she didn’t dare to yet.
Lust, though...that word certainly fit, and described the overwhelming emotion that took over as she followed his treasure trail down until it disappeared in the bunched-up fabric sitting below his navel. Her patience was running out, so she grabbed his waist to pull him closer and then let her fingertips dip under the edge of his uniform.
But she scoffed as she slid them around him, pushing the garment over his ridiculous, perfect, firm ass. “Y’know, it’s awfully bold of you to critique my underwear as not being proper when you’re not wearing any at all,” she teasingly admonished as she freed his erection. 
“Are you complaining?” he parroted with a smirk. 
“Nope,” she answered, letting the rest of his uniform fall to the floor around his feet. 
She took a second to glance at his strong thighs, but was more eager to straddle them, so she pressed herself back against him and started to guide them yet closer to her bed. She may have been too eager, though—understandable, given the way his cock was pressed against her stomach—but in her haste to get him horizontal, she failed to give him a chance to step out of the uniform sitting in a heap at his feet.
As such, they barely took two steps before falling comically onto her mattress, him wrapping his arms around her waist and her with her hands pressed to his chest.
“Shit,” she cursed. “You okay?”
“‘M fine,” he said in a strained voice. “Just—let me catch my breath, before we move onto more…enjoyable activities.”
She sat back and he shifted under her, better positioning himself on her bed. As soon as he was fully on the bunk, she shifted forward again, perching herself on his lap and suppressing the urge to grind against his groin—especially knowing how much the lace of her underwear would drive him crazy.
His hand settled on her own leg and slid up until it settled at her waist. For a minute, she continued to admire him again—watching the way the muscles of his chest and stomach moved as he breathed, quickly at first and eventually evening out—until he squeezed her side. 
“Now where were we?” he finally asked, voice low and husky as he peered up at her from her pillow. It was probably just the low light, but his eyes somehow seemed even darker. 
“Mmm, somewhere about…here?” she replied as she shifted forward, now taking the time to press her core against his—and grinning at the groan she pulled from him in the process.
“You bloody minx,” he purred as she hovered above him, placing her hands on either side of his shoulders. “You take pleasure in torturing me?”
“You know I do,” she tossed back; they were both fully aware he could sense her amusement.
“And here I thought this was a social call. May as well send me to the brig if all you’re going to do is punish me.”
“Not tonight.” (Though she did have a pair of handcuffs somewhere.) “I’d rather not deal with the subsequent officer’s report.”
His hand slid around to her back and he pressed her against him. She sucked in a breath at the slight friction of her lace bra against her nipples. “That would be an awful waste of time. And so is this conversation.” And then he silenced her with his lips atop hers. 
Barely-clothed make outs were nothing new for them, but Emma never tired of the way they gradually keyed each other up as their own personal arousals increased and fed off the other; the way Killian moaned and whimpered as she pressed her hips against his only furthered it. 
At some point, his hand found its way to the clasp of her bra, and in a well-practiced motion, he undid it, then kissed his way down her left shoulder while sliding the strap down. She hated to put any distance between them when they were in the thick of things, but raised herself a few inches—just enough to get the garment off and toss it aside. 
She was about to lean back in when the world suddenly spun around on her; when it settled, she was on her back on the other side of the bed, and Killian was hovering above her, smugly. “You know, Swan, I’ve had a craving the last few days that no replicator could ever hope to supply,” he murmured. 
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
He moved so his mouth was near her ear and, much like she had earlier, whispered, “You.” His hot breath on her overheated skin made her tingle with delight; Killian’s subsequent shiver told him he felt it, too. 
Like he did earlier, he worked his way down her abdomen, placing kisses as he went (and spending no short amount of time caressing her bosom with both hand and mouth). But when he got to her hips, he gestured for her to raise them. She complied, and he gently—almost reverently—placed hook and fingers under the waistband of her panties and guided them down, like he was carefully unwrapping a gift (which, given his previous confession, he probably was).
Ever the romantic, he even pressed a kiss to her ankle as he pulled the lace undergarment completely off. (She’d chastise him later for chucking it over by his scrunched-up uniform.) And then his hungry eyes held hers as he lowered himself off the end of the bed, back down over her sex. 
He breathed on her, and she shivered—both at the hot air and in anticipation. Even he had to close his eyes and take a moment before doing anything else; her own arousal was clearly affecting him. (And she loved it.)
(Yes, she was capable of using that word. Just not in all contexts.)
He gave an initial lick at her folds, making her toes curl. Then he went back in with his talented tongue and started to slowly work her up, and she gave herself over to bliss as he went. 
Every move he made brought her more and more pleasure. Emma was no stranger to flings and one-night stands, but none of them were ever as giving of lovers as Killian, and she made sure she repaid it in kind. 
Not just yet, though—actually, they needed to slow down. Because the closer she got to her peak, the closer he did, too; that was something they’d figured out long ago. (But again—it was nice knowing that the quickest way for your lover to come was to make you come, too; more than she could say for quite a few other people now in command across the fleet.) 
As her heart rate picked up and breathing grew deeper, she could feel him begin to stutter in his movements as his own climax drew near. 
It almost pained her to do, but this was a marathon, not a race; she needed him to last all night. “Hey,” she said, and propped herself up on her elbows enough to pull her sex away from his face. His eyes were closed, but he was pouting. She sat up enough to reach down and run her fingers through his hair, which had fallen across his forehead. “Together?”
He blinked his eyes open and had a soft look, despite what they were in the middle of. “Aye, together,” he answered, and crawled back above her. 
They were familiar enough with each other’s bodies that it didn’t take much effort for him to find her entrance and press his length in, and she knew just what angle to prop her hips at to make it effortless. 
His hand again found her hip as they both reveled a moment in the feeling of being joined. She wasn’t sure she’d ever admit it, but those were the moments when she truly understood the whole imzadi thing—regardless of their physical position, she’d never felt so connected, so in tune with Killian as she did then. And it was something more important to her than she cared to admit. 
The careful way Killian was placing kisses on her jaw suggested he felt similarly; those were the times when she wished she was as aware of his emotions as he was of hers, but at least he was far more communicative when it came to those things than she was. (She’d never asked, but she often wondered if part of being empathic was wearing your own heart on your uniform sleeve.)
Her thought process was taking her down a path she wasn’t ready to go down yet, and she shifted—not uncomfortably, but just to create some friction (more physical than emotional but that was just as likely). He got the hint—not that he really needed it—and began to move. 
The other perk of having a lover who was aware of every turn of your emotional state was that he was almost constantly aware of what she needed—one step ahead. They quickly found their rhythm, well-rehearsed at this point, but she didn’t need to tell him when to go harder or softer or change his angle—he just knew. (For her part, she’d learned to read his own body language and react accordingly; the last thing she wanted to be was a selfish lover.)
All too soon, she was approaching the edge of release again (not that she’d come very far down after their brief pause). Killian’s stilted movements echoed the same. “Come for me, love,” he murmured as he pressed in firmer; as divine as that felt, she was aching to fall. 
She met each of his own subsequent moves, tension rising, rising, rising, until finally—there; she came with a gasp, the waves of pleasure she’d been chasing finally crashing over her. 
And him—his own release was instantaneous, and their cries mingled in the quiet of her quarters (which, thankfully, were soundproof). She could feel him pulse inside her as she dug her heels into his lower back, mostly as an anchor, lest she float away in space as they succumbed to their shared bliss. 
Orgasms always seemed to last longer with Killian; even after he’d pulled out and set her down, they both were on a physical high for some time after, and lay there, wrapped around each other, until they came down. 
(She loved it. And that was all she’d say.)
Their breaths eventually evened out, in time with one another’s; she sometimes wondered if their hearts beat in syncopation, too, but figured that was just the hopeless romanticism of her best friend (and the ship’s counselor) Mary Margaret rubbing off on her. 
“I’d ask if that was good, but…” he started, but she could hear as much as see his smirk. 
“You know it was.” She slapped him playfully on his bare shoulder, but noticed that his eyes were starting to regain their blue color. “You know everything.”
“It’s nice to hear you finally admit it,” he teased. 
She just chuckled and curled into him a bit more. It was a little more lovey-dovey than she’d usually do, but…it was Killian. Loathe as she was to admit it, every one of their encounters like this let him more and more inside her walls; maybe not fully breaking them down, but giving him more and more access. 
And the fact that it was just between them helped. She was a pretty private person, especially with the role she held on the ship, and wasn’t ready for the world to start making any other sort of commentary or assumptions about her. She hadn’t even told Mary Margaret. (And god forbid the captain ever found out; Liam was known for running a tight ship and she could only imagine the reaction if he ever found out two of his senior officers, one of them being his brother, were sleeping together.)
“What are you thinking, love?” he asked softly. “I can read your emotions, not your thoughts; but something is on your mind.”
“Yeah,” she started. “How do you manage to keep this,” she gestured across the minimal space between them, “away from your brother? Especially with your whole telepathy thing?” Betazoids as a species were telepathic; the fact that the Jones brothers had a human mother hadn’t changed that, but limited their abilities to only communicating with others of Betazoid descent.
“I don’t,” he answered casually.
“You what?” she whisper-yelled.
He shrugged. “I couldn’t hope to keep this out of my thoughts, Swan.”
“Killian—he’s my commanding officer!”
“Aye; mine, too. And he doesn’t care.”
“He doesn’t?”
“No. He says he much prefers this than the alternative, which is us constantly being at the other’s throat.” She blushed at that, because it was true—prior to their first coming together, they fought incessantly (which, looking back, was probably due to the attraction they’d both been denying). 
“Okay, but you don’t tell him all the details, do you?”
“Of course not; you know I don’t kiss and tell. But I rarely have to; he says you’re usually fairly happy after the fact.”
“Oh my god,” she complained, burying her face in her hands. “I might as well write ‘I just had sex’ on my uniform.”
He laughed—that deep, low thing she loved, reverberating across his chest as he pulled her towards him. “You’re not denying the happy part.”
“We both know that’d be a lie.”
“Mm, true,” he agreed, and pressed a kiss against her temple.
She had planned on going in for round two, but fatigue was gradually taking over, paired with the sense of safety she only felt when she was in his arms.
He wasn’t going anywhere, she knew; they could do more later. So for now, she’d rest, close to the one person who meant more to her than anyone else.
(That much she could admit.)
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
Killian loved these nights with Emma. He loved the way she’d seek him out, teasing him as soon as she found him. He loved the bit of subterfuge they had to perform to cover for their meetings. He loved the way they came together so perfectly.
He loved her—his darling imzadi. He knew the title weighed heavy on her at times, but she’d never tried to reject it; in the time since it’d been bestowed on her, she seemed to appreciate it more and more, even returning it.
They’d never discussed anything deeper about their relationship—it definitely was one, of a sort, but they both had baggage that made them hesitate. He’d never said out loud the extent of his feelings, but had a sense she was aware and was stubbornly ignoring it—both his and her own.
The perk of being an empath was being able to read her easily; but it was both a blessing and a curse at times, too. Because in these quiet, shared moments, he could sense the way she felt about him—and she loved him just as deeply as he loved her.
Knowing that was enough for him, for now; maybe someday, they’d finally be able to say the words aloud to each other. Just not yet.
Until then, he was content to hold her close and be at her side, like they were now. As she drifted off to sleep, he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, hoping that expressed everything he felt. Her lips curled into a smile; his did the same, and he let sleep claim him as well—while also plotting a way to escape from her quarters in the morning unseen.
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
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