#and I went ahead and borrowed a piece of 'She Walks in Beauty' by Lord Byron

[ash-muses]

❤️ — astrid-ingrisdottir

(OOC) Bold of you to send this in November, I love it xD Hopefully this works! There's more explanation in the tags to clarify and give credit where it's due. The image at the very end was a quick edit I did for this, too. ♡ Send ❤️ to receive a Valentine from my muse ♡ Starter for @astrid-ingridsdottir

Although Valentine's Day was typically a Midgardian celebration, Thor had proposed the idea to Asgard and its people, much to Loki's dismay. His brother had droned on about the various muses through which they expressed themselves: artwork, poetry, songs, ballads, and baking, for starters. However, the comment was followed by Thor's lighthearted banter about who Loki might be interested in, which earned a scowl from the God of Mischief. Despite his brother's teasing, he had someone in mind...

Upon Asgard, Loki sat off in the corner of the library with a semi-bowed posture, head in his hand and brows furrowed in concentration. He read over the parchment in his hand, composed of several scratched-off lines, and groaned almost inaudibly.

Roses are red, violets are b

Stars upon which you dance

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

"This is asinine," the trickster hissed under his breath with a tinge of exasperation. Chest heavy with a mix of nerves, determination, and vexation, he lifted his quill and tried again. After a few minutes, he had finally penned up something he was content with. He read it aloud quietly, testing the words upon his lips as though it were a fine Asgardian wine — it needed to be light yet carry a depth, sweet yet not overtly.

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

When he was certain it sounded right, Loki sealed it up in an envelope with a wax stamp upon the back. As the days passed by and it approached Valentine's Day, the God grew a bit nervous. It was rare for him to display such vulnerability, and so willingly — particularly for a celebration that revolved around affection, something that he discreetly struggled to show. During the festivities, Loki had waited for the opportune moment, then stole Astrid away from the others, finding a secluded little corner down one of the nearby corridors.

"I've been waiting to give you something," he explained lowly, careful to keep his tone steady. The trickster's gaze seemed to soften as he studied her for a long moment. Then, hesitantly, he produced the envelope he had so neatly left his signature upon and a couple of pristine, violet carnations. "For you, Astrid..."

[getyouasenju]

Red Lights

a continuation to Drivers License I suggest reading it, but this can be a stand alone piece!

Master List

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Angst, Profanity, das it :)

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It was pitch dark outside by the time I had made it back to my apartment. I closed my door with a sigh, locking it as I turned to take off my shoes. Standing up I walk to my thermostat turning it up, silently cursing at myself for taking the long way in this cold weather. Making my way across the living room, I made sure all the blinds were closed for the night and then made a quick exit for the bedroom. I was drained, which was pathetic because this was supposed to be a huge moment for me and I was letting something so pitiful get in the way.

I make my way through my bedroom, throwing my keys and wallet onto my nightstand then making my way to my bathroom. I looked at my red puffy face as I snatched the hair-tie from my head groaning loudly. I hope it was dark enough so he didn't see this. Smacking my hand on my forehead I curse again, but this time out-loud. Glancing up I catch sight of my attire. Grabbing the flaps of my vest, I turn side to side examining myself. Hey.. I looked pretty good in this vest! I laughed to myself as I pulled it off and prepared myself for bed. I was determined to not let any of my hard work go to waste, to hell with him.

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“Huh?” 

I let out a confused sigh as I stood in the Hokage tower. It has been nearly two month since my promotion and I still had yet to go on any mission, I was a sitting duck. I was excited when I was summoned by the Hokage for a mission, only to to have it give away to Raidō, Gemna and Iwashi- again. “I just don’t understand,” I start carefully “Is there a reason I’m being pulled from this mission? Have I done something wrong?” Kakashi quickly shook his head “No, you’ve done nothing wrong (Y/N). You’re a perfectly capable Kunoichi. We just thought Raidō, Gemna and Iwashi would be a better fit.” He explains to me. Wait a second... we?

My eyes flicker the man standing besides him as soon as it clicks. He stood there, usual ponytail with crossed arms. So he was the reason I wasn’t getting any missions. I glare at him and try to catch his gaze as hard as I could for a moment as he tried his best to avoid it. I give in and turn my glance back to Kakashi and bow my head “Thank you Lord Sixth, please let me know if I can be of any assistance.” I respectfully make my exit as I try to hide the bitter taste that was in my mouth.

I didn’t realize how mad I was until the cold air hit my flushed face. To say I was frustrated was an understatement. Why does he have to be involved? He has officially erased all excitement for me. I didn’t want to be a stupid Jōnin anymore If he was going to play puppet master with me. Why is it his business on what missions I go on anyways? Stupid advisor. I kick a pebble and let out a frustrated groan when I hear the door open behind me and Immediately roll my eyes as I hear a lighter. I debated with myself before I turned my body towards him.

He stood a little bit from the entrance, cigarette in hand and a scowl on his face. Why was he upset? He was the one meddling in my business. I place my hands on my hips and glare at him. “Do you enjoy watching me suffer?” I question him. He looks taken back by my statement, but doesn’t respond. I scoff, crossing my arms and straightening out my back. “Why are you fixated on ruining me, Shikamaru.” He frowned, taking a final drag of his cigarette and then proceeding to throw the cigarette down. “I’m not trying to ruin you, (Y/N).” He responded plainly.

I let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, so you just take me off missions for fun? I know it’s your doing, don’t insult my intelligence.” I argued back with him, I wasn’t going to play dumb with a genius. He chuckles before addressing me. “So the whole world’s out to get you, huh?” he sneers back at me. My eyes widened, his tone was surprisingly icy. What the fuck? What the hell was he so angry about? His life was fucking great, spectacular even! I drop my hands by my sides. “What the fuck is your problem Shikamaru, you have everything you’ve ever wanted- needed! Why can’t you just let me be!” I didn’t realize I was screaming until I finished and I just felt embarrassed. All I knew is that I didn’t want the whole village witnessing a screaming match between me and my ex boyfriend. I shake my head as I turn to walk away, done with the conversation when I heard his laughter. What was so fucking funny?

“Everything I wanted? Is that a fucking joke? All I fucking wanted was you!” He hisses at me. What? I whip around, he had officially lost his damn mind if thought he could make comments to me like that after what he pulled. “Don’t you dare fucking patronize me Shikamaru!” I say, trying to keep my voice low. He went on that mission, he’s the one who admitted he had feelings for Temari. “I let you go because I knew you liked her, I gave you the opportunity to be happy!” I could hear my heart beat in my ears, I felt so much pressure in my head. “Why can’t you let me do the same.” I whispered.

“I never asked you to let me go, you made that decision for me.” He says softly. I shook my head, no- I’m not doing this with him. “Shikamaru, I’m not doing this with you, not today- not ever.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and came closer to me. “There you go, making decisions for us again.” He sighed out. Us? There was no us, he was sadly mistaken. I take a step back trying to put some distance between us. “Are you trying to say it was my fault Shikamaru?” I question him. I couldn’t believe what he was trying to pull here. I never asked you to let me go. it wasn’t too hard when he was starstuck over Temari. My eyes hardened when I got no response again. “You’re telling me that it’s my fault that I refused to be on the back-burner for your dream girl.” I whispered.

Oh give me a fucking break, she was perfect. Everything he wanted, they balanced each other- It wasn’t hard to see. “And who decided that? You?” I was taken back. Why the fuck is everything my fault now. “You came to that conclusion yourself.” I scoffed and shook my head. “No, you showed me that I was right when you came back from that mission making googly eyes at her!” He moved closer to me and I moved back once again, I could see his nostrils flare in response. “Nothing happened on that mission.” He insisted to me. “Yeah, but I knew we were on borrowed time the moment you left for it, Shikamaru.” 

He turns around putting his hands on his head and groaning. “That wasn’t true.” I cross my arms and shake my head. “But it was!” I shriek. He turns back to me. “You let your fucking insecurities cloud your judgement!” Excuse me? I was shocked. Did he just... “Did you just fucking call me insecure?” I growled at him. He let out a bitter laugh “See? There you fucking go again. You know that’s not what I meant.” He pauses and finally looks over me, eyes lingering on every detail of my face. “Yeah I had a childhood crush on Temari, everyone in the village knew it! She was my first crush, but that’s what it was- a crush. Stop comparing yourself to her.” 

“There isn’t much to compare.” I start “She’s older, beautiful- she’s perfect for you. More of your speed.” I could see him visibly stiffen. “Stop making decisions for me.” He says again through his teeth. “Stop acting like it was hard for you! And you want to talk about making decisions for people? You won’t let me go on any missions!” I argue back with him. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Listen- Shikamaru, I can’t do this with you. I’m going home, goodnight.” I plead with him to just let me go home, I was tired and I wanted to sleep for a week straight. He looked like he was panicking. “Wait- let me walk you home. It’s late out a-” I cut him off, holding my hand up. “You may not think I’m capable enough to do any missions, but I’m damn sure capable of walking myself home.”

He looked down at me with his brows furrowed. “You know that Temari and I aren’t together, right? We were never together! I meant everything I ever said to you. I don’t know where you gathered this Idea that you weren’t good enough for me, but It needs to stop before we’re ruined for good.” He finishes grabbing my hand. I was appalled. Ruined for good.. and he keeps speaking like we’re in a relationship- gosh he was giving me a headache. What did their relationship not working out have to do with me? “So what? you don’t get your dream girl and it’s my fault?” He drops my hands groaning and cursing under his breath, dragging his hands down his face again. 

“What don’t you understand?” He lets out a breathless laugh. “You are my fucking dream girl, (Y/N).”

I was frozen in place, his words running around in my head. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. “You keep talking about borrowed time.. how could my time be borrowed when It was all yours to begin with?” I shake my head, immediately trying to dismiss the admission- no. I didn’t want to do this. But he persisted. “Don’t- don’t do that, It’s true. For once, let me speak my truth to you, just listen to me! I never lied to you.” My head was all fuzzy as he looked at me waiting for an answer. 

“I want to go home now. please.” I croaked out. He stood still for a moment before looking down and nodding. “Let me walk you home, please?” I finally gave in just wanting to be home and nodded my head. I let him take my hand and lead the way. The long way of course.

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We walked hand in hand through the streets, the few people still out and about paying us little to no mind. I welcomed the silence as I thought to myself. Did I push them together because of my insecurities? I sneak a glance at Shikamaru, he was staring straight ahead undeniably lost in his own thoughts. A relationship is supposed to be a two way street, one person didn’t get to make all the decisions and look what I did. I was abruptly thrown out of my thoughts when Shikamaru came to a sudden stop.

“I’m sorry for taking you off those missions.” He apologizes to me, angling his head down at me. I don’t respond, I didn’t know what to say. After the ending of our last conversation, I was still speechless. “I just always thought we’d go on the first one together, like we talked about.” He let out a low laugh. “You know, when I found out you were being promoted, there was this small bit of hope inside me that you’d come to me first.” He shakes his head. “It was stupid, but I was bitter. I wanted to be happy for you, but when I saw you walking by my house that night, I was distraught.”

“I wanted you.” I couldn’t control my outburst. He looked at me with widened eyes, surprised. It was too late to take it back so I continued. “I was out with the girls and all I could think about was how I just... wanted you there, just like we talked about.” I admitted to him. I was somewhat embarrassed to have my heart on my sleeve like this. “So.. where do we go from here.” He questioned me. I pondered it, looking into his eyes. He was asking me?

“I thought you you didn’t want me making decisions for you, Shikamaru?” I teased. He chuckles at my response bringing my hand to his lips. “Then let me make a decision for you this time. Let’s get back together.” He insisted. This was all too much. “It’s that easy?” I asked him hesitantly. He quickly nodded at me. “You’re always an easy choice for me.” he assures me. Now I really was confused. I stand still for a moment before sticking my hand out to him.

“Friends.”

“Friends?” He repeats to me, a puzzled look on his face. I smile and nod my head at him. “Friends.” I repeated to him, pushing my hand towards him, waiting for him to shake it. He takes my hand hesitantly and shakes it giving me a tight lipped smile.

“Friends.”

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Helloooo a little sequel to the Drivers license piece I put out a little bit ago. Might have another part left in me.

Master list

Until Next Time! xxo (▰∀◕)ﾉ

[allycryz]

Thancred x Nerys x Haurchefant for either Spring Prompt 4 or Spicy Prompt 10

I went with Spicy Prompt 10 (Praise Kink). For some background context the loose timeline right now is

Lakeland Invasion -> Emissary Haurchefant goes in disguise to infiltrate Eulmore as a soldier -> Amh Araeng- -> Thancred and Nerys get back together -> Than and Nerys hook up with Emet ->  Save Eulmore/Haurchefant -> Reunion Sex with Haurche turns into Thancred and Haurche Hooking Up for First Time

This is set after that while they work on the Ladder

Rated E, not for Everyone, Haurchefant gets praised and pampered

"Early tomorrow," says Thancred, wiping a forearm over his brow. His coat is a long abandoned pile on the lumber. "Should be ready to go by then, I think."

"Well ahead of schedule then." Nerys sits on the ground, propping her back against said lumber. They'd made her rest during the morning but she had made up for it during the afternoon. 

Better to have the distraction of work while she processed her earlier conversation with Emet-Selch.

"Come sit." She curls a finger at him. He looks...magnificent in the tight black shirt, his muscled arms shown to advantage. More than one of the laborers gives him an appreciative glance. 

"If I sit, I might not stand." He grins. "Did you see everything Chai-Nuzz had me haul around today?"

"Oh come now, you've had far more taxing days."

"After you and Haurchefant wore me out two days and nights in a row?" His grin grows bigger now and she can't help but return it.

She had imagined of course–what it might be like to have them both. Especially after she and Thancred reconciled. But she hadn't dared hope the two men would fit together as well as they did.

"So what was everything we did up until then? A warmup?"

"Well...Haurchefant is a wellspring of energy. Speaking of..."

The man himself strides towards them, clad in the golden armor bestowed upon him when he became the Crystarium's Emissary. There are appreciative glances for him too, but also double-takes.

There was a fairly recent addition in Eulmore; one of the soldiers who defected from the Crystarium after Vauthry's attack on Lakeland. A tall, black-haired, friendly fellow named Edmont Grey.

The glamour on his features is gone but there were enough similarities between the two handsome profiles. Those who didn't know must wonder if this man is related to the affable soldier. 

"I hoped I might find you together," he says. "Am I allowed to steal you away yet?"

"We were about to discuss that," says Nerys. "Thancred worries he cannot keep up with you, my lord."

Thancred nudges her arm with the toe of his boot. "Don't go spreading lies, sweetheart."

"If anything it should be the reverse. You two have been at work on the ladder all day while I have been spent the past hours in meetings or traveling via Amaro and Aetheryte." Haurchefant steps closer to Thancred, running a hand down the front of the tight black material. "Never fear, where I'm taking you has all the amenities to unwind."

Thancred watches the path of the gauntleted fingers as they stroke over his midriff. "And where is that?" 

"You'll see." Haurchefant turns to Nerys, extending a hand. She takes it and finds herself hauled up, tugged against his chest to receive a soft kiss. "Hello."

"Hello." She slips her arms about his neck, shivering as Thancred presses a hand to her lower back. "You may take us away, my lord. Alphi will tell the others where we have gone."

"Hm?" Haurchefant glances around, till he spots what Nerys had a few moments ago: Alphi trying not to get flustered seeing three of his comrades positioned as they were. He is a good ten yalms away and Haurchefant lifts a hand to wave emphatically. "Hello Alphinaud! I shall be borrowing these two, take care of the others!"

"Right," the youth calls back. Looking pointedly at their faces and not their hands. "Good evening!"

"When I was his age," Haurchefant says to the other two. "It had stopped surprising me when the knights retired to a single bunk, two or three at a time. We squires just made ourselves scarce for the evening."

"He admires you a great deal," says Nerys. "Maybe that's part of it."

"And you. And Thancred, of course."

"Mm, do not try to flatter me. That boy saw me at all my absolute worst and at best thinks of me as a wayward brother." Thancred sighs. "At least he doesnt delight in spilling about my past like Urianger and Alisaie."

"Sweet Urianger is an imp," says Haurchefant. "However, he did help me secure our destination. Please hold on tight."

They do and it is no hardship to embrace thus. Haurchefant wraps them in teleportation magicks, whirling them away from Kholusia…

...and to the colorful wilds of Il Mheg. They stand before a little cottage Nerys recognizes from her hunting ventures. Abandoned, not all that far from Lydha Lran. Or–it had been abandoned but looks freshly cleaned and aired out. 

Haurchefant holds up a hand and opens the door. "The game was that if they did not touch anything, I would give them something fun and sugary."

"And we did not!" A voice giggles above them. Three pixies hover above, watching expectantly. 

"Yes, it look quite well looked after.." He produces a handful of colorful paper straws sealed at both ends. "Tear off whichever end you like and you can eat the treat inside."

"...Haurche," Thancred says, eyes gleaming with mirth. "Are those-"

"We thank you Haurchefant," one of the pixies cooes. "It is too bad you won't play with us to-day…"

"Ah, but another day I should like to. Hide and seek the next time I am here?"

They nod, flying away with a burst of magic. None too soon because Thancred has to duck into the house and explode with laughter. The sound is like a balm to Nerys' heart–it has been too long since he made a sound of pure and utter delight like that. 

"Well," Haurcefant says, grinning. "There must be a reason the Crystarium merchants call it that. The fae love sugar."

"Good gods, Haurchafant," Thancred leans against the small dining table for support. Careful not to muss the place settings though it is a very near thing.

"It was a good idea," Nerys says, stifling her giggle. "It's no tricking them into making your tea but…"

“I prefer honest bribery with pixie sticks rather than elaborate ruses." Haurchefant grips her hand, urging her to take one of the chairs. The ache is getting worse the past few days, the churning of the light in her belly. So she doesn't protest. 

He steps over to a small ice chest and gathers up items for the table--cheese, cold cuts, fruit, a bottle of sweet Kholusian white. Butter to go with the loaf of bread he takes from a cabinet. "I...may have had a bell or two prior to bring things here, after my meetings."

"Look at that." Thancred steps over to him, laying an almost tentative hand on his arm. "You're a good man, Haurche."

Haurchefant beams under the compliment and the touch. Nerys watches the pull between them in silence, the hesitation before Thancred curls a hand in his hair and tugs him down. Kisses him soft and sweet, his murmur barely audible. "Very good."

She knows well the shiver that goes through Haurchefant. Nerys stands, needing a moment of support from the chair before walking over to them. Burying her hands in the soft fabric of Haurchefant's blue cape. "This was lovely of you, finding a private place and preparing this food for us."

"Truly, it is the least I might do." Haurchefant turns his head towards her. "And all I did was cut up some of the offerings."

"Still." Nerys finds the clasp of his cloak and removes the bilious garment. She peers over his shoulder at Thancred who gives her a minute nod. "Its exactly what we needed."

"Perfect." Thancred looks around the small space–the kitchenette, the table, and the largish bed in the corner. They'll have to huddle but that is fine. His gaze returns to Haurche and he smirks a little. "You're perfect."

"I know what you two are doing," Haurchefant says in a sing-song way. He moves his arms to let Thancred remove his cuirass. Sighs when his shoulders are bare and Nerys rubs soothing fingers into his shoulders.

"But it's working," she sing-songs back. "Let us take care of you, please."

"My love…" He turns in the circle of their arms, pressing his palms against her cheeks. His bright eyes bore into her and there is no hiding from him. There never is. "You need care as well I think."

"I do," she admits. "It will make me feel good to do this."

"And with that you have trapped me," he presses his forehead to hers. "As you take care of me, please let our Thancred also take care of you."

Our Thancred. Her heart flutters at that and she kisses him, her gratitude and joy permeating the contact.

Haurchefant's armor disappears piece by piece until he is pressed between them, cloth the only barrier left. Thancred tugs his lips down, dropping praise against his ear. "You're gorgeous in the armor and even better like this. And those hands-"

Those hands slide over Thancred who groans in appreciation. The three of them move in a tangle to the bed. Nerys feels hands on her own hips and chest, though it’s hard to tell at first who is touching what. Only that they're petting her, peeling off her leathers and tugging loosely at her short hair. 

She finds Haurchefant's ear and sucks lightly at the tip. "Do you know how beautiful you look right now? You almost never blush but…"

At that, the faint pink across Haurchefant's cheek grows. He sighs, turning his body to face hers and rubbing her hip. "This is the effect you have on me, beloved."

"Not just her, I hope." Thancred slips his arms about him from behind.

"Not just her. You're an attractive man, Thancred."

"Indecently so." Nerys adds. "He could bat those eyelashes at a king and receive half a kingdom."

"You forget, they called me Thancred of the Silver Tongue when I was a young and wild bard." That same tongue traces Haurchefant's jaw. "I am more than a...what did you say once? Infuriatingly handsome face?"

Nerys grins. "Alright then, please demonstrate how good you are with that silver miracle."

"Verbally or..." He slides his tongue into Haurchefant's mouth, kissing him into a pliant puddle of limbs. They're dazzling together–Thancred half-propped over the other man, hand curled about the knight' cheek. He directs Haurchefant's limbs upward, above his head. "Good boy."

Haurchefant groans. "What wickedness do you have planned for me?"

"No plan, moving as we are inspired to." Thancred presses a hand over his chest, kneading Haurchefant's pectoral through his shirt. "You're so beautiful Haurche, you drive a man wild. Whenever I look at you I think seven hells, how can we mortals be so lucky."

"Ha-I thought you were the pretty one," Haurchefant gasps, hands flexing above his head. "There-keep rubbing right there."

Nerys cannot hold herself back anymore, adding her hand to the ministrations. Slipping it beneath his shirt to cup the other pec, circle the nipple with her thumb. He starts to jerk forward, to reach for her-and then keeps his hands where they are above his head.

"You're so obedient for us," she says, kissing the underside of his jaw. "So good and sweet "

He sighs. "I would do anything for you."

"We know." Her lips travel to the column of his throat. The words fumble a little--Thancred and Haurchefant are good at reciting a litany of praises. She doesn't talk quite as much during.

As if he senses her doubts, Thancred grins at her and picks up where she leaves off. "How lucky we are, to have someone this giving and beautiful in our bed. Will you do us a favor, lovely one? Will you let us suck your cock?"

Haurchefant groans like a man wounded. "Fury, you don't even have to ask-"

"Of course we do." Their hands are quick at Haurchefant's laces, shoving down the supple leather leggings and the smalls all at once. They draw him out: already hard and in need of their succor. 

"You look amazing like this," Nerys says. "So still and good, and needing us to take care of you. And one of the prettiest cocks I've ever seen."

"Agree," says Thancred. "And we've both seen enough to know. Yours is by far one of the best."

Haurchefant groans, disobeying so that he might cover his eyes with a forearm. "You two will destroy me before I even feel your mouths on me."

"Look at us," Nerys begs and he lifts the arm. His lips are parted, his cheeks flushed, his eyes blown wide with desire. "There. I want your eyes on us, and not just because they're exquisite."

Thancred nods his approval at that. "And promise to be vocal, so we know when we're doing a good job."

"You have my vow."

"Good boy." Thancred licks a stripe along one side of the shaft and Nerys the other, meeting in an open mouthed kiss at the head. Haurchefant obliges them with a moan and some very improper Ishgardian curses. "Nerys, suckle him."

She obeys without hesitation, drawing the swollen head into her mouth. A gentle but insistent hand cups the back of her neck, lips brush her cheek and whisper, "Good girl."

Nerys shivers. If she isn't careful, Thancred will have her as overwhelmed as Haurchefant is.

The pressure increases until she takes more of Haurchefant, savoring him with the flat of her tongue even as her jaw aches and he slides further into her throat. She watches as Thancred changes his angle, drawing the heavy sac into his mouth while she bobs up and down the shaft.

Haurchefant gasps, hands once again reaching for them before he returns them above his head. Thancred draws himself up and murmurs something into his ear-too quiet for Nerys to parse but Haurche’s cock twitches in her mouth with each syllable. 

She looks up and can see Haurchefant's eyes shut tight, his breathing growing faster. Nerys takes a shallow breath through her nose and takes him deeper. It is never an easy feat, big as he is, but she wants this for her dear knight. 

Haurchefant gasps, pressing his face into Thancred's shoulder. The words become louder, probably for her benefit.

"Look how she takes you, big boy that you are. That's how much she wants to make you feel good. You deserve to feel good-"

"Thancred," Haurchefant pants. "Nerys, I don’t have much control left-"

"Yes you do. We know you do." Thancred slides back down, tugging Nerys away with gentle hands. Putting his own mouth upon Haurchefant's straining cock.

"There you go," Nerys says, cupping his sack with gentle fingers before subtly increasing the pressure. "Our lovely knight has so much control left."

"Yours," Haurchefant sobs. "Yours, I'm yours-"

"Ours," she hums, lips pressing to the base of his shaft where neither of them can manage to swallow. "Our wonderful, perfect Haurche."

His back arches and she can feel the control shaking through him, the strain to hold back and be good for them. 

Nerys' eyes meet Thancred. He pulls off with a gentle pop and their twined hands replace their mouths, their mouths hover close to the head.

"Come for us," Thancred says, drawing their hands quick over the spit-slicked cock. "We need you."

"Please," says Nerys and it seems to be the last straw for Haurchefant, who comes with a desperate yell. Painting their faces, their open mouths. He babbles through it–declarations of love and need that twine with the other two's fervent praise.

He sags into the mattress, as if it might cocoon him. Tugs at their hair and arms until they rise to meet him with slow, tender kisses. 

"You did so good," she tells him and he smiles.

"So did you. And you, dear Thancred. Silver tongue indeed."

"He's very good with it." Nerys says, curling against her love. And then seeing the mischievous glint in his eye. Uh oh.

"Oh really?" Haurchefant smirks. "I think I need to see it again, on a willing test subject. Do you volunteer?"

Her own need pulses between her legs and she nods. Swallows. "Yes, I think I do."

"Good girl," says Thancred, as he crawls over to her, a leg swinging over her waist. "Shall we?"

[trueloveseyeroll]

When The Tide Turns (12/16)

Summary:  The plan was to go to England, finish the case and head back home in a matter of days. Of course, nothing in Emma’s life ever goes according to plan. Not only does she end up travelling across Europe, looking for a Liam Jones in order to finish her case, she ends up travelling with Liam’s brother - an annoyingly handsome Killian Jones. And she doesn’t trust him one bit.

Rating: T, for language (this chapter in particular) and some violence later on 

Beta-reader: I can’t thank Aina enough for being so helpful and kind! Shout-out to @forget-me-not-s !!

Artists: these artists are seriously such talented and amazing people, and they deserve so much praise!!! @theblacksiren - check out her beautiful artwork for chapter 1 here and chapter 7 here! @optomisticgirl created the awesome banner - and soon you’ll get to see the amazing masterpiece created by @fairytalesandtimetravel

Word count: ~6986 (68k+ in total)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 |  Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 |

AO3

As it turned out, buying a warmer coat to brave the cold north was unnecessary - Emma borrowed one from Elsa.

Standing in Elsa’s house a few hours after having left the airport, Emma looked down at the snug brown jacket wrapped around her. Lined with soft dark fur, it was certainly warm, and Emma said as much to Elsa and Killian.

“I’m surprised you’re still capable of feeling anything at all after walking around in that thin leather jacket of yours,” Killian quipped, sitting at Elsa’s dining table with a mug of tea in his hand. Emma didn’t even bother to glare at him. He knew how much she liked her red leather jacket.

“It fits you rather well - better than it ever did me,” Elsa commented with a smile. As soon as Killian had told her they’d be heading further north to look for Liam, Elsa had remembered old winter coats and warm boots lying around and had offered to find them for Emma. An offer Emma gladly accepted.

Emma had wondered a lot about this Elsa. She’d briefly spoken to her on the phone and she had seemed a bit reserved, but she had obviously been open enough to take Liam in six years ago. When asked about it, Elsa simply shrugged and said she’d had a spare room. Still, not just anyone took in ‘stray Englishmen, half off their rockers’ as Killian put it. Emma wasn’t sure if she should be awed by Elsa or concerned for her lack of better judgement.

The longer she’d spent with the other blonde though, in her quaint reclusive home, the more Emma came to like her.

“I’m sure I could find some of Liam’s winter wear for you, Killian,” Elsa said, to which Killian kindly declined, saying he’d already thought ahead to bring some warmer clothes.

Emma shrugged out of the jacket, hanging it over the chair by her cup of hot chocolate. It was bitterer than she was used to, but good nonetheless. Elsa even had some whipped cream and cinnamon to top it with.

(Killian was the one to let Emma’s hot chocolate preferences spill - she still didn’t know what to think about that.)

To her credit (or perhaps former mentioned lack of better judgement) Elsa didn’t question them about sailing after Liam in November. She was worried, that much Emma could tell. A permanent wrinkle had all but settled in her forehead after worrying about Liam for weeks.

“Are you sure you don’t need an extra pair of hands?” Elsa asked, settling in her own seat with a glass of water.

“You would be a lovely help, Elsa, but I think the fewer we risk the better,” Killian answered. Elsa went to argue, but seemed to think better of it.

“I suppose you’re right. If I go there’ll be no stopping Anna from coming as well and she’s always been good at getting herself - and others - into trouble.” The words were said with a certain fondness that tugged at Emma’s heart. Elsa spoke of Liam with the same kind of fondness, though slightly different, leaving Emma to wonder what the situation between Elsa and Liam really was. She didn’t ask though.

They went on to discuss the further plans of finding Liam - if you could call what they had so far a plan. After Emma had told Killian going to Denmark to look for the spyglass wouldn’t be necessary anymore, he’d suggested coming back to Arendal first. That suggestion had been the one to bring them to Elsa’s kitchen.

On the bus back to Arendal, Killian had filled Emma in on what Elsa had told him at breakfast. Mainly about a certain ring Belle had mentioned a few days ago.

“... she said Liam said he’d gotten it from Neverland.”

Emma nodded, remembering Belle’s words. It felt like forever ago - had it really only been three days?

“I asked Elsa about it,” Killian continued, “and she knew exactly what the ring was; the only thing keeping Liam alive, apparently.”

“What?”

“Aye, it sounds odd. But Elsa’s lived with him for the past six years - I reckon she knows what she’s talking about.”

“But how can a ring keep someone alive? I mean, unless it’s like some Lord-of-the-Rings-thing.”

“Well, apparently Liam went and got himself poisoned back in Neverland. He should’ve died, but the inhabitants of the island - an old peaceful folk - gifted him with the ring. It has some magical ability, stopping the poison from reaching his heart as long as he wears it on his person. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop the poison from meddling with his head, leaving him a bit out of sorts.”

The ring - and the poison - was the reason Liam had gone back to Neverland now of all times, Elsa explained. Something was wrong with it. As if its magic had started to run out. Liam’s only hope for survival had been to travel back; if he had made it or not, no one knew.

At Elsa’s dining table, Killian explained the way of the objects again. The compass only worked on water. Once one had left shore, it would point out the proper heading towards Neverland. And when it started spinning without pause, one needed the sextant to go on. Follow the stars marked on the sextant, and one would get to the final stage. Then, only the spyglass was left. Look through it, and one would see Neverland at last.

The biggest problem now, was how to get on the water in the first place.

“Kristoff - that is, Anna’s husband - has relatives in the north-western part of Norway, who manage a small harbour. Liam rented one of their boats a month ago, but I’m not sure they’d be willing to rent out another here in November, with the same uncertain course as the boat they never got back.”

Elsa had a point. If it had been Emma, she’d certainly never even consider renting out her boat to someone who wanted to go Neverland - family or not.

Kristoff had another piece of mind. When Elsa called him, he was happy enough to swing by and help Emma and Killian with their planning. Anna coming along too probably had a lot to do with it.

Emma could withstand the couple, if only for the fact that they turned out to be a great help. (In all honesty, Emma didn’t mind Anna’s bubbling cheeriness that much, but she did prefer Elsa’s quieter demeanour.)

Kristoff ensured them his cousins would be able to rent them a boat (“trust me - they still owe me big time for some stuff.”) and he didn’t mind lending Emma and Killian one of his two cars fit for the Norwegian winter, so they could make the trip to the harbour in good time. He’d do anything to help them find Liam.

Emma blamed the hot chocolate, but it warmed her to see how much these people wanted to help. It warmed her to see how happy and grateful Killian was to know that others cared about his brother too.

And well, Emma couldn’t help but feel proud to be a part of it all.

Twenty minutes. They had been driving for twenty minutes. Emma could have sworn at least an hour had passed since they left Arendal in the car borrowed from Kristoff but no. It had only been twenty long minutes.

At least Emma had the excuse of focusing on driving. The car was a bit bigger than her yellow bug in New York, but both had stick shifts so that wasn’t a problem.

Five minutes in, Killian had started fumbling with the radio. There wasn’t much good, but he found a station with some old classics and that was good enough for both of them. Even when some of the classics were Norwegian.

It was odd for Killian to be so silent. Emma glanced to the side, finding him deeply invested in the map of Norway he had borrowed from Elsa. Every now and then, he told her when to turn, acting as her own personal GPS.

Driving had gone smoothly so far. The roads were great, even if there were a few sharp turns or long tunnels through mountains. The view was nothing less than beautiful though. Once they got further north, Emma suspected there would be more snow, and the driving probably wouldn’t go as smoothly. But keeping her eyes on the road and their surroundings was a decent distraction from her thoughts.

She just couldn’t deflect the image of running towards Killian and kissing him when he stepped out of the bus. Every time she thought she was done thinking about it, it came right back to annoy her.

But so what if she briefly thought of kissing him? He was attractive; she couldn’t deny that, and who doesn’t think about kissing someone attractive every now and then? (Ruby’s “climb him like a tree” came to mind.) It didn’t mean anything. She had just seen too many romantic movies with heartfelt reunions and stuff. Hers and Killian’s reunion had hardly been heartfelt.

Emma was pulled back from her spiralling thoughts when the main character of said thoughts started humming. Humming along to INXS’ Need You Tonight no less.

Emma gripped the steering wheel just a bit tighter. Only eight hours more to go.

You can do this, Emma.

Killian wasn’t much aware of the fact that he was humming. His eyes were busy scanning the map in his hands and the road in front of them. He’d lived in America for a few years, aye, but driving on the right side of the road still messed with his head. Most of his travels since leaving Gold’s company - and America altogether - had been with the Jolly Roger. And Killian sure was beginning to miss his ship. Just seeing the sea again would be great - and in about eight hours, that wish would come true.

As occupied as Killian was with looking at the map or observing the stunning landscapes of Norway, he couldn’t stop thinking about the bloody monster that was Gold. Of course he’d had spies trailing their every move right from the beginning. He should have known. Should have been less suspicious of Swan and more observant of his surroundings.

Bloody hell, Smee was a part of all this. Had he really been so blind to notice that Smee had been following them all this time? If Killian ever faced the man again, he’d be sure to give him a proper “thank you” for ratting out his family history to Gold. Granted, Smee hadn’t known everything. He hadn’t known about the sextant or the spyglass - only the compass. But Killian’s failure at being more observant had led Gold to getting his hands on the spyglass - and almost tricked Killian into going to Denmark in the process. If it hadn’t been for Swan...

So far, Killian had been trying to avoid looking at Emma. He feared that once he glanced at her, he wouldn’t be able to stop looking at her in awe, and he’d rather not have her catch him doing that.

A chuckle almost passed his throat again at the thought of Swan decking Smee and leaving him in a locked storage room at the airport. It took a special kind of person to do that - a special kind of lawyer either way. And of course Emma would be that kind of brilliantly rash person.

He almost couldn’t believe she was actually there, right next to him, driving the car towards Neverland. Another reason he avoided looking at her might have been the fear that she wasn’t there at all, to which he’d realize no one was driving the car, and he was about to roll off a cliff or smash into a mountainside. And then wake up of course.

But no, Emma was there. She could have given him the spyglass and left. She could have not cared at all and left. But she came back, and she was in it for a ride to Neverland.

What had he done to deserve her trust?

He’d most likely never know, but he was going to do everything he could to live up to the faith she had put in him. Evidently, taking her on this adventure with uncertain destinations and sketchy people at their heels probably wasn’t the safest idea. Bloody hell, he was going to get them both killed, wasn’t he?

Killian pinched the bridge of his nose. No use falling to doubt now. There was no going back; he had to find Liam, had to. And he had to make sure Smee or this Zelena or Gold himself didn’t gain on them and get to Neverland first - or ever.

Emma’s phone rang, buzzing in her pocket. Killian thought of the glare she’d given him for letting his phone run out of battery when she needed to call him. He had felt oddly flattered by that.

Emma seemed not to hear the buzzing - she chose not to acknowledge it at least.

“You could pull over and answer if you’d like,” Killian suggested. “Or I’d be more than happy to grab it from your pocket and answer for you.”

Emma shrugged at the first suggestion and barely batted an eyelash at the second.

“Whoever it is, is probably gonna want to know what I’m up to, and I won’t be able to explain that anyways, so it might as well wait until later.”

The phone stopped ringing.

Only to start again a second later. Emma still didn’t move to pull over or even think of answering it.

“Someone’s persistent,” Killian noted. “Could be urgent, couldn’t it?”

Emma shrugged again. “Either it’s my boss calling to yell at me or it’s my mom wanting to know everything going on in my life right now.”

“Which would be worst?”

“Honestly?” Emma paused. “I’ve got no idea.”

She joked, but Killian could tell something was bothering her. She seemed a bit too relieved when the phone stopped ringing and didn’t start again.

Perhaps something was going on in her life at home. She’d mentioned a newly ended relationship at the bar in Barcelona - the bloke had proposed and she had ended it. Tough luck for him (Killian couldn’t help but feel a bit happy for himself though).

Maybe it was the former boyfriend calling; that certainly didn’t sound like a phone call you’d want to have.

Or maybe it was one of her friends - the bride-to-be Mary Margaret or that Ruby she had spoken of. They sounded like good friends of hers.

Killian found himself wondering what Emma was like back in New York, in her own comfort zone, hanging out with her friends. He found himself wondering a lot of things about Emma. Much like he had the entire past week.

She was adopted, that much he knew. But unlikely before she’d encountered some hard times on her own; her eyes alone told him that much.

She worked hard at whatever was thrown her way; liked cinnamon on her hot chocolate; was fiercely devoted to her red leather jacket (not that he didn’t like it himself); had a hard time trusting people; liked a good drink or two, along with onion rings and grilled cheese... he’d come to know a lot about her in one week actually, now that he thought of it. Yet he felt like there was so much he didn’t know about her. And he wanted to know; he’d gladly spend years discovering every little thing he could about Emma Swan.

There was just something about her that intrigued him to no end. Something that pulled him to her in a way he couldn’t describe. Killian couldn’t help but feel like there was some sort of bond between them, some sort of understanding, even if Swan was somewhat of an enigma to him. He could read her like an open book, but he was having some trouble finding the details amongst the grand picture.

“Do you think they’re following us?” Emma asked, breaking Killian’s momentary spell.

“Who? Gold’s lackeys?”

“Yeah.”

“I suppose so.” The thought was unsettling. Emma must have felt the same way; Killian wasn’t sure if the car picking up speed was his imagination or not. “Ever done anything like this before in your line of work, Swan?”

“What, been followed across countries in some race for a place that should be fictional? Can’t say I have, no.”

The question was there on the tip of his tongue: why was she here then? What had changed her mind? He couldn’t bring himself to ask though. A part of him feared the answer; another feared he’d be pushing too hard.

The current song playing - a Norwegian classic - faded into the recognizable beat of Born to Be Wild. A proper road-trip-song in Killian’s eyes. He started humming again and hid a smile at the way Swan tapped her finger against the steering wheel to the beat of the song.

Emma’s head rested against the window. Killian had turned down the music a while ago, letting both of their ears rest without leaving them in complete silence. It was kind of nice actually. The sun had set a little while ago, and she and Killian had swapped seats about an hour ago once she had started to feel a bit tired. She hadn’t slept much the past night after all.

They’d been driving through mountains for quite a while. There was snow everywhere - fortunately not on the roads - and Emma was in awe of it all. She even took a few pictures (and saw that the earlier calls had been from her mom).

For the past couple of hours, they’d been driving from island to island (sometimes on bridges, other times helped by a ferry) on the west coast of Norway. Studying the country on the map, Emma thought it looked like the coast had been ripped apart, leaving it in bits and pieces.

Despite her tired eyes, she only managed a few minutes of sleep at a time - if you could call it sleeping. They’d be at the harbour in about half an hour anyways. No use falling asleep now, so close to the end of the road.

Once she started to feel her bladder pressing, sleep was definitely out of the question.

Along the way, they’d encountered several small toilet houses - terribly cold and disgusting, but better than nothing. Fortunately, they came across another before long, and Killian pulled over. Turned out both of them needed a short break.

It was really fucking cold. Emma got it over with as quickly as possible, Killian as well, and both hurried back to the warmth of the car. (There weren’t any sinks at the toilet houses, but Killian was smart enough to carry a hand sanitizer in his satchel.)

Emma shut the door, shivering and tugging her borrowed jacket tighter around her after securing her seat belt. Killian turned the key in the ignition and-

No.

The last sound anyone ever wants to hear when starting a car greeted them. A short burst of power from the engine and then a flat death.

Emma’s and Killian’s eyes met, both going ‘please tell me this isn’t happening’.

Killian tried again. But once more, the car wouldn’t start and the sound of it dying out was like a big, fat “fuck you”.

“Well, this is rather unfortunate,” Killian said.

Emma glared at him. How dare he try to make light of the situation?

“Why isn’t the car starting?”

“Wish I knew, Swan. I wouldn’t be sitting here in a non-moving vehicle if I did though.”

That earned him another glare.

“Try again.”

Killian obliged, but the car wouldn’t cooperate. Emma shut her eyes, all but banging her head against the headrest, emitting a harsh ‘fuck’.

“I’ll be sure to thank Kristoff for this lovely car of his.”

This was not happening.

“I’ll try and check the engine, love.”

This was not happening.

Emma joined Killian as he stepped out of the car to check the motor. Both of them studied it for a second before Killian asked, “You don’t happen to know anything about car engines, do you?”

She’d been to the mechanics with her old bug a number of times, but she’d never really stayed around to learn anything. She remembered being interested in cars once as a kid, before Ingrid took her in. It hadn’t lasted though - the foster family sent her back, and her interest in mechanics faded with the bitter memory of the mechanic who had been her foster father for a few months.

“Aren’t you the engineer?” Emma countered.

“Aye, but old-time ships are a mite different than cars, love.”

Emma bit back the string of curse words she felt like shouting. She pulled out her phone and-

“There’s no reception. Stranded on the road in freaking Norway in November and there’s no fucking reception.”

She could kick something. Or punch something.

“You know,” Killian started, opening the car door again and pulling out the map, “we aren’t far from the harbour. We could probably walk the rest of the way.”

Emma stared at him as if he’d proposed walking to New York. “You want to walk?”

“Would you rather wait here and freeze to death?” Killian asked, nodding at the car.

“Killian, we hardly know where we are, it’s cold and it’s dark and there’s snow everywhere - do you want to die?”

“We have a map and a road to follow, don’t we? It’ll take about three hours - perhaps more - but we’ve got some snacks left from Elsa’s and perhaps we’ll stumble across a village or some hospitable soul living here in the wilderness.”

“Do you see any towns on that map?” Emma asked. Killian didn’t answer, and she knew what that meant.

But... fuck it, he had a point. The car would soon lose its heat and they’d be human icicles before long unless they huddled close or something - and that wasn’t going to happen.

Emma couldn’t believe she was going to agree with this. It was the stupidest plan ever since - well, since agreeing to go find Neverland.

“Fine,” she huffed. “We’ll walk. But if I slip or fall or get eaten by some beast or something, I’m coming back to kill you.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, love.”

Killian went to get his satchel with the three objects in it, and handed the backpack with provisions to Emma. She looked at her suitcase in the trunk and knew there was no way in hell she was dragging it with her. They’d come back for the car at some point anyways... she took one of her sweaters and a pair of extra socks and stuffed them in the backpack.

“I bet you’re glad for that coat and those boots now,” Killian said as they started walking.

“Shut up.”

Mercifully, he did.

But she was glad for the coat, boots, gloves and beanie. Very glad.

They’d fallen into some meaningless talk again after a few minutes - mainly Killian saying a few witty comments and her countering them. It was nice though. Anything to distract her from the crunching snow beneath her feet and the fact that she could have been in a warm car right now. Or at home.

Weirdly enough, she wished the car had just not broken down, more than she wished she’d gone back to New York.

At least they weren’t walking in complete darkness. Killian had his flashlight, and the sky was actually somewhat clear. Emma hadn’t seen that many stars in quite a lot of years - if ever.

The brisk air kept her awake, but Emma was well and truly tired. And they’d only walked for half an hour. She knew she could continue until the end if she had to, but dammit she was tired. Killian was too, she could tell.

So when she looked to her right, she concluded she must have fallen asleep while walking.

“Killian?”

“Aye, love?”

She held his arm, stopping him and making him aim the light from the flashlight at the direction of her pointing finger.

“Is that a house?”

It was a small cabin really. Windows unlit, no smoke from the chimney. If there was a driveway leading to the cabin, the snow was covering it.

“Certainly looks like a house; four walls, a roof, standard house-necessities.”

Emma supposed their next decision spoke volumes of their exhaustion. An axe-murderer could be living there. Or it could be empty. And they could break in and hope to find a bit of warmth. Either way, they chose to check it out and hoped for the best.

At a closer glance, Emma was a hundred percent sure the place was empty. It didn’t exactly look abandoned and run-down though. Maybe it was a summer residence, left uninhabited in the winter.

They tried the door, finding it locked. But they were cold and tired and a locked door wasn’t going to stand in their way. Had it been warmer, Emma could have tried picking the lock. But it was cold, and smashing a rock through the window next to the door seemed like a much better idea.

Soon enough, Emma and Killian were shielded from the cold wind and had a solid floor beneath their feet. It was still freezing cold, but definitely much better.

Together, they explored the small cabin, finding an empty kitchen, a tiny bathroom, a bedroom and a living room. The best discovery was the stock of firewood next to the fireplace.

“What do you say we get reacquainted with our fingertips, love?”

“And our toes.”

Emma longed to sink into the couch across from the fireplace, just disappear into the cushions and wait for the warmth of the fire to reach her. But the air was still cold and she imagined she’d freeze into a human icicle if she sat still. So instead, she went looking for blankets. Anything she could snuggle up in would suffice, really. And no, her eyes did not flicker towards Killian as she thought that.  

Whoever owned the cabin wasn’t too fond of leaving their belongings behind during the winter. Emma opened various empty cupboards and cabinets before finally finding a single duvet in a bag under the bed. Cold it may be, but that could quickly be remedied. With a tired smile, Emma returned to the living room with the rather large duvet wrapped around her shoulders. Killian looked up from the first growing flames as she finally sank into the couch with a sigh.

“You look rather cosy there,” he smiled. Emma murmured something incoherent in return, closing her eyes for a moment.

When he felt assured the fire wouldn’t go out anytime soon, Killian rose, causing Emma to realize she was taking up the entire couch with the duvet pooling around her. She opened her eyes, just enough to see Killian standing there, obviously unsure where to sit.

“I only found one blanket,” Emma started, apologetically, but Killian interrupted before she could continue.

“It’s quite alright, love, don’t worry. I imagine sitting closer to the fire will be warmer anyways.”

And damned him, he really was about to sit on the cold wooden floor in front of the fireplace. Emma knew he only meant to be polite. He didn’t want to push any boundaries. But Emma wasn’t so fragile she couldn’t share a damned blanket.

“It’s a pretty large blanket, you know.”

Killian still didn’t move to sit next to her and Emma wanted to roll her eyes at him. He really wanted her to spell it out for him, huh?

“And I could use some help keeping it warm.” Her words were the perfect invitation for some stupid innuendo, but Emma was too tired to care by now. When no innuendo came though, only a nod from Killian, she almost felt disappointed.

She lifted the duvet, scuttling a bit to the side so Killian could have a seat under the blanket without the two of them having to sit with their sides pressed against each other.

If only the duvet was that large.

Cold air seeped through the gap between them and they both shifted to get more comfortable. Which inevitably left them with their sides pressed against each other.

Emma lifted a hand to pull off her beanie; at least her cheeks were warm by now. And the rest of her was quickly warming up too next to Killian - the man was a freaking furnace.

Panic should have settled in by now, sitting so close to Killian, all but lost in Norway. And a bit of panic had settled in; that familiar urge to run, to get out of there as fast as she could. But where exactly could she go? The way things were, she’d just have to deny ever feeling she had, suck it up and at the very least not let Killian know what was going on in her head.

A clock on the mantle showed half past eight. They should have been at the harbour by now, according to the plan they’d made with Kristoff and his cousins on the phone back at Elsa’s place.

Trying not to move too much, Emma pulled her phone out.

“Still no reception?” Killian asked when she sighed and put her phone away.

“Nope.” She shifted in her seat again, wondering if she should take her boots off.

“I’d wager this isn’t what you’d imagined when you decided not to go back home,” Killian said, his voice soft. Emma wondered what he was thinking - did he regret letting her come with him?

“I’m not sure what I imagined.” Her own voice was starting to sound drowsy, barely more than a whisper.

“Why didn’t you do it?” Killian asked. Emma barely heard him through the wind rattling against the windows, the fire crackling in front of them and the thoughts racing through her head. She wasn’t sure what he meant. Looking to the side, she found him staring at the fire. “Why didn’t you go back to New York like you’d planned?”

Emma thought of it for a moment, tearing her eyes off of the way the glow of the flames flickered against his face. “I noticed Smee following me and then I got the spyglass and well, I couldn’t leave when I had the spyglass you were about to go to Denmark for.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in the spyglass and Neverland.”

“Maybe a part of me does.”

Her words lingered in the air for a moment before Killian spoke again.

“You could have given me the spyglass and returned home.”

“And missed the chance to see Neverland with my own eyes?”

She knew Killian was right. And she knew her reasons for staying weren’t just about discovering the truth about Neverland. Killian didn’t say more, and Emma couldn’t help but worry if he would have preferred it if she’d gone back to New York.

A yawn soon took over Emma, the long day getting through to her amongst everything else.

“We should probably try and get some sleep, love,” Killian said, his voice soft and warm. He didn’t cheekily offer up his shoulder for her to sleep on. Perhaps he was too tired. Both of them shifted, trying to get more comfortable in the small space, resting their heads against the back of the couch. Emma’s head almost ended up on his shoulder anyway.

No matter how tired she was though, the thoughts spiralling in her head prevailed. She tried closing her eyes, tried focusing on the sounds of the crackling fire and nothing else, but the warmth of Killian beside her kept stealing her focus.

In the end, Emma gave up.

“Killian?”

“Aye, love?” He didn’t sound like he was about to fall asleep, though he did seem rather tired. If only Emma knew his state of mind was much like her own.

“Nothing. Just checking to see if you were awake.”

Killian turned to look at her, his face close enough for Emma to count every single eyelash. Or study the scar on his cheek. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah… I was just…” Emma sighed, wishing she was better with words. Absentmindedly, her thumb traced the cut on her palm. That’s when the idea came to her. “Do you still have that flask of rum?”

Killian didn’t ask any questions, only leaned forward to grab his satchel from the floor. “Brilliant idea, love. Quite surprised I didn’t think of it myself to be honest.”

He handed the flask to her first, letting her take a swig of the nice, warming liquor. Liquid courage, a part of her whispered to herself.

When Killian had swallowed his own mouthful of rum and a few moments of silence had passed, Emma let the question slip from her lips at last.

“Why did you let me come with you? I mean, you said no to Elsa’s help; she probably would’ve been more help than me though.”

The question took him by surprise at first. But then, of all things, Killian began to chuckle.

“I had the feeling I wouldn’t be able to stop you even if I wanted to.”

Well, he was probably right about that.

“And I don’t mean to upset you, Emma, but I think we make quite the team.”

Emma refused to lift her gaze from her lap. A part of her wanted to panic, to roll her eyes at him in defence, but truthfully, she couldn’t argue. They did make quite the team.

She reached for the flask in his hand and he let her take it. With another mouthful of rum warming her throat and belly, Emma relaxed into the cushions again.

“You’re not that terrible you know. When you’re not lying and stuff,” she admitted. Only two mouthfuls of liquor, but in her tired state, they were enough to liberate her tongue.

“I believe that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, Swan,” Killian grinned, and Emma couldn’t find it in herself to regret her words when that grin was the result. “You’re not that terrible either, you know.”

He said it jokingly, but his eyes showed a deeper truth to his words. “In fact,” he added, “you might be one of the bravest people I know for going through with all this-“

“Or stupidest,” Emma interjected.

“Aye, that may be,” Killian smiled, but his tone turned more serious. “Just know that I truly am thankful, Swan. Liam always meant the world to me - don’t ever tell him, but I used to liken him as somewhat of a superhero when I was younger. And well, it means the world to me now that you’re here to help me find him again.”

Emma tried smiling at him as if to say there was nothing to thank her for, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Truthfully, his words had warmed her more than any liquor ever could.

“You know, I didn’t just stay to find out if Neverland is real or not,” Emma said, twirling the flask in her hands.

“Aye?”

She almost couldn’t bear to look at him, his eyes so hopeful, reminding her of that other other reason she’d stayed.

“Looking for Liam kinda reminded me of who I was a couple of years ago.”

She could have left it at that, and Killian would have let her, she knew. There was just something about him that made her feel like he’d understand without pitying her or looking at her differently. There was something about him that made her want to tell him. Not because she needed to, not because she felt forced. She just wanted to.

“I spent most of my life wondering where my parents were - my real parents. I spent years trying to find them, even after Ingrid adopted me. I just needed to know why they’d left me. After my first year at college I stopped looking for them. A part of me just gave up; the other part figured I didn’t really need to know anyways. It wouldn’t change anything. But still, not knowing…” Emma stared at the flames, unable to look at Killian as she spoke. “It sucks. And if I can’t find my own family, at least I can help you find your brother instead of going back to New York and working on some other meaningless business transaction.”

Killian didn’t ask any questions. Didn’t try to push her. She couldn’t help but think of Walsh - he all but forced her to talk about her childhood at times, saying it was good for her to let it out. Good for them to not have any secrets between them. But Killian… he just understood, without ever having to push.

“I guess we can both feel fortunate you were assigned to this mess of a case then, aye?”

And like that, he had her smiling again.

The topic changed, veering into lighter subjects, the conversation getting less and less coherent as both were exhausted. Killian told her more about his childhood, though he focused on the fun parts rather than his drunken father. Emma had a few good stories about Ingrid to share as well.

At one point, while Killian spoke, Emma realized she wasn’t really listening anymore. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure what he was saying anymore either. They’d been talking for more than an hour, passing the flask between them and forgetting the world outside for a moment.

Killian was looking at her, albeit not really holding her gaze. His eyes drifted across her face, idly mapping every freckle. Emma found herself getting lost in the blue of his eyes, absentmindedly licking her lips. Briefly, his eyes met hers with a smile, and in that very moment, Emma finally let herself admit the last reason she hadn’t gone back to New York.

Killian Jones really was a good man. Throughout all the lies and the doubts, he’d proved himself trustworthy. Kind. And she... well, she liked him. Liked his easy company, the understanding that had formed between them, the humorous banter edging on flirting, and yeah, he certainly wasn’t bad to look at.

She was tired; her limbs had long ago succumbed to the warmth of the fire. And the warmth coming from Killian and somewhere deep inside herself. How had she ever been cold before? She was tired, and she wasn’t thinking entirely straight. Yet she felt more aware of herself than ever, more certain of her movements than she had in a long time.

One moment she was looking at Killian’s lips, the next, Emma surged forward and caught them with her own. She took him by surprise to say the least - interrupted him mid-sentence. Not that he seemed to mind.

He groaned against her mouth, a sound Emma relished more than anything, and after less than a split second, Killian’s lips were just as eagerly pursuing hers.

His arm curled around her, the other reaching up to tangle his hand in her hair as she gripped the back of his neck. They pulled each other closer, sharing their warmth until it was almost too much. Emma’s toes curled in her boots, sparks coursing from the very tips of them to her head and back again.

She pulled back, her breathing heavy. For a second he sought to chase her mouth for another kiss but let his forehead rest against hers and they stayed like that, curled up against each other, curled up in the moment.

Emma couldn’t remember ever being kissed like that. With such passion and raw understanding of each other - as if the feeling was familiar yet so, so new.

She could have stayed like that for hours, her nose almost nuzzling his.

But this wasn’t her. Losing herself in a first kiss like that with so much uncertainty still lingering, that wasn’t safe. Wasn’t smart. And she was tired, she wasn’t thinking straight, she wasn’t supposed to kiss him.

“That-”

“was a one-time thing,” Emma cut him off, surprising herself at how sure she sounded when she felt anything but sure. Her thoughts were racing and she couldn’t keep up. She didn’t want to keep up. “We... we should sleep.”

“Aye… as you wish.”

Emma’s heart tugged a little at those words, memories of watching the Princess Bride as a kid flashing through her head. She didn’t look at him, kept her eyes downcast and shifted a bit in her seat. His voice was edging on hoarse, his breathing still heavy like hers. What was going on in his head?

No, she didn’t want to wonder about that.

Had she been more awake - or more sober - she would’ve fought to maintain a distance between them, perhaps even going as far as leaving the couch all together. But she wasn’t entirely sober, and despite the fire the kiss had alighted inside her, Emma was close to passing out from exhaustion. So instead of moving away, she rested her head on Killian’s shoulder, murmuring a ‘goodnight’ against his jacket.

“Goodnight Emma.”

Neither said more, and Emma let herself be lulled by the crackling fire and the wind howling outside. Her heart still raced and she imagined his did as well if his heavy breathing was anything to by. She let that sound, and the steady rise and fall of his chest sooth her to sleep, as he finally found rest as well.

Neither woke until two hours later when the headlights of a car beamed through the window.