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hookedonapirate · 7 years ago

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A Birthday Surprise

Summary: It’s bad enough Emma was goaded into helping her college roommate throw a surprise birthday party for her boyfriend who Emma hasn’t gotten along with since they’d met. It’s even worse when he accidentally walks in on her in the shower thinking she’s said roommate. Talk about a birthday surprise he’ll never forget…

A/N: So, there will be another chapter that I’ve already started writing because this ended up being much longer than I’d expected. Like @rouhn has reminded me when I told her there was going be another chapter, I am simply incapable of writing one-shots because I end up taking off with it. And sadly this one doesn’t have the smut I had planned but their will be plenty in the next one. Thank you @mayquita for looking it over!

Hope you all enjoy!

Tagging @artistic-writer @branlovesouat @teamhook @resident-of-storybrooke @onceuponaprincessworld. Anyone else who would like to be tagged, please let me know.

Rated: Explicit

Also available on: AO3 FF.N

Part 1

Part 2/3Emma is freaking out the second she enters her bedroom. She slams the door behind her and slumps into it, letting her head fall back until hitting the surface with a groan.

What the fuck did she just do?

She betrayed her roommate—her best friend! What the hell was she thinking?! She’s liked Killian for a while now; she's dreamt of kissing him, of tasting him in her mouth and being with him, but she's never intended on acting on those desires. Not while he’s dating another woman. Not while he's dating her best friend!

The steam from the shower must have fogged up her brain.

Emma closes her eyes, the memories flickering in her mind from when he entered the shower—the feel of Killian’s fingertips on her hips, his sultry voice in her ear, his warm chest pressed to her back. She was furious with him, but God, he was like forbidden sin encased in a gorgeous, deliciously tempting package.

And boy was he delicious. The taste of his cock—his salty cum—still lingered in her mouth and on her lips.

Emma can still feel his body on hers, his wet hair on her fingertips and his hard, throbbing dick in her hand.

For months she's wanted him, but now the shame of taking him in her mouth is crashing over her like a ton of bricks. And it's not like she can just avoid him and pretend it never happened. She has to help Milah set up for his birthday party, which she is required to attend.

Shit, he's still currently in her bathroom turning off the shower.

And he’ll be staying for breakfast.

Fuck.

Maybe she’ll be able to get away before Milah gets back?

Crap! Milah has her car.

Maybe she’ll just go for a walk. Maybe she'll just stroll down to the campus library or the gym. Or maybe she'll go find a hole to crawl into and die.

Emma is in panic mode as she tosses her robe off and throws on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

• • • •

“Em, how do I look?”

Emma's stomach churns as Milah twirls around, making sure her roommate gets the full effect of the dress and sees exactly how it fits every curve. Emma gives Milah a once-over. It's not that the brunette looks ugly. No, it's not that at all. In fact, she looks beautiful in Emma’s black dress—her dress, which Milah has decided to borrow because it was just sitting in the closet and not being worn. For crying out loud, Emma was saving it for a special occasion. But alas, she gave in to Milah’s pouting and pleading when Emma had initially scolded her for wearing it.

“You look better in it than I do,” Emma replies with a resentful smile.

“Really?” Milah looks in the full length mirror, hand on her hip as she studies her reflection. “I doubt it. You're beautiful, Em.”

And damn, why does she have to be so nice? Emma wonders. Milah is the type of girl who gets along with anyone and has that charming personality everyone loves. She's also a party girl who’s not so much into college—mostly the experience. Emma can see why her roommate is appealing to the opposite sex; she’s always felt like the ugly duckling next to Milah. Emma merely wishes one guy in particular wasn't attracted to the beautiful brunette.

There's a knock on the door, pulling Emma from her thoughts.

“He’s here. Em, will you get that? Tell him I'm not ready yet.” Milah takes long, slow breaths, trying to stay calm; Emma can tell she's nervous.

“Sure.” Sauntering out of her bedroom, she goes to answer the door, and when she pulls it open, the sight makes her jaw drop.

Milah’s gorgeous date has those dreamy, blue eyes and tousled hair. He’s wearing blue jeans, a dark blue button-up shirt that matches his eyes and a black silk vest, revealing his dark chest hair which teases her imagination as to what the rest of him looks like.

“Evening, Swan.”

Emma is too busy checking out her roommate’s date to notice he’s gazing back at her, an eyebrow raised smugly, eyes sparkling with curiosity and intrigue.

“Not that you don’t look lovely, Emma, but I wasn’t expecting you to leave your flat in pajamas,” he remarks playfully with an adorable grin, his eyes still scanning her up and down.

“Come again?” She lifts a brow, her features etched in confusion. He is correct in that she’s wearing a tank top and pajama bottoms, but she isn’t planning on leaving her cozy apartment. She’s planning on finishing a paper that’s due on Monday while sipping a cup or two of hot cocoa.

“I just meant I didn’t know tonight’s theme included pjs. If I’d have known, I would’ve worn them myself.” Killian steps closer, and there's a confident swagger in his hips as he whispers in her ear, the accent in his voice deep and silky, making her skin tingle. “And I sleep in my birthday suit, so that would've made for a much more interesting evening.”

Emma’s breath hitches and a chill skates down her spine at the idea of Killian hanging out in her apartment completely naked, but she quickly steps back scowling at him. It’s not that she can’t picture what he looks like without any clothes, because she definitely can, but what the hell is this guy talking even about? “What do you mean? I’m not going anywhere tonight. The theme for my evening includes having my face in my computer so I can write my paper. You and Milah obviously have other plans in mind, so I doubt what I’m wearing will have any sort of impact on your night.”

Killian scratches behind his ear, his face twisting in confusion. “Oh… I was under the impression you’d be joining us.”

His words take Emma off guard, and now she is even more bewildered. “You did? But I thought… I thought you and Milah were going on a date.”

His cheeks are turning a light shade of red and Emma can see the disappointment flashing in his eyes; he looks ashamed, maybe even embarrassed as he tries to mask it with a chuckle. “Well, this is awkward; I wasn’t aware this was a date. I thought the three of us would be hanging out as friends; maybe go catch a movie and grab a bite to eat.”

Another pleasant chill runs down Emma’s spine. Killian agreed to this evening without the intention of seeking something romantic with Milah? Well, this… this changes everything.

“Killian, I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” Milah’s voice hauls Emma back to reality and she watches as her roommate approaches Killian with a wide grin, looking him over.

Milah is wearing Emma’s dress and she’s wearing it fiercely and proudly as Killian’s jaw drops slightly. Emma can practically see the reality washing over him. It’s the most obvious thing in the world that Milah has no idea this isn't a date between her and Killian.

“You look beautiful, Milah,” he compliments politely, lifting her hand to press a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“Thank you. And you don’t look too bad yourself,” Milah expresses shyly with a wink, her cheeks tinted with a light pink blush.

Killian looks at Emma, trying to gauge her reaction and at the same time, he’s holding an apologetic expression. But it’s fine. Really. Emma’s fine. She doesn’t want to join them anyway. She’d rather stay home and finish her schoolwork, wallowing in self-pity and regret instead of disappointing her roommate by going with them. “I hope you two have a really great time,” Emma says sincerely, forcing a weak smile.

“Thanks, Em. Oh, I forgot my sweater. Be right back.”

Milah scurries off towards her bedroom, and Killian steps into Emma’s space again, appearing to be nervous and full of regret.

“Are you okay with this, love? I mean… I only agreed to this because I thought I'd be spending time with you.”

Emma’s heart flutters at his words, but again she only has Milah’s interest at heart and doesn’t want to hurt her like that. “Are you kidding?” She nonchalantly waves off his words, her voice higher in pitch than she means it to be. “I’m totally fine.”

Disappointment flickers in his eyes, but he offers a soft nod. “Alright then. I just thought there was something between us the other night.”

Emma scoffs. “I was drunk out of my mind, in case you forgot.”

The pain in his eyes pulls at her gut, so she allows her voice to become softer, guilt falling over her features. “Thank you for taking me back home. That was very nice of you,” she murmurs sincerely.

“Oh course, love.”

“But let’s face it—you and I don’t mesh well,” she points out gesturing between them, trying to ignore the solemn expression on his face. Her heart aches, but she knows this is for the best. “Besides, Milah’s been looking forward to this all week and we’re not about to burst her bubble, you got it?” she warns, raising her eyebrows as she stares at him with a weighty expression.

Killian swallows thickly, but nods, unwilling to argue with her. “Got it.”

Maybe she wishes he would’ve fought with her about it, but he doesn’t, and maybe she hates him for that reason. “And as difficult as it may be, try not to be jerk,” she tells him, a scornful tone lacing every word.

Killian’s features turn hard; his jaw is set firmly as he glares at her. “Of course I won’t be.” He appears to be hurt and offended, and Emma is regretting her words, but she has to stay strong. She can’t let this man see how much he’s gotten under her skin. She can’t let him know that, yes, there really was something sizzling between them the other night, and it had nothing to do with her being drunk. They’ve been doing this dance since they’d met.

“Good. Glad to know we’re on the same page.”

“We are. In fact I'm glad you're not going with us. I like you much better when you're drunk. You're much nicer,” he mutters, gritting his teeth.

Anger bubbles under her skin and she wants to smack the stupid out of him. “Yeah? Well, even when you’re not running down people with your motorcycle and ruining their perfectly good sweaters, you’re still a pompous ass.”

Before Killian can retort, Milah is emerging from the hall and joining them at the door. “Okay, I’m ready now.” Her cheerful voice is a stark contrast to the sour mood settling between Emma and Killian, but he quickly changes his demeanor and flashes a charming smile, extending his elbow to Milah.

“As am I. Shall we, love?”

Milah happily takes it, looping her arm through his. “Such a gentleman.”

Killian smirks at her, making Emma’s heart clench. “I’m always a gentleman,” he clarifies smugly and kisses his date’s cheek before opening the door for her.

“Bye Em. Have fun writing your paper. And don’t wait up for us,” Milah suggests with a wink.

Emma rolls her eyes as Killian looks back at her, tossing an unapologetic grin before he walks Milah through the door. “Aye, we might be out pretty late, Em,” Killian agrees, taunting her.

Emma wants to scream, but somehow bites her tongue, containing her frustrations. Now he really is just being a pompous ass and she no longer regrets not telling Milah this wasn’t supposed to be a date. “Go to hell.” She flashes Killian a fake smile, and after Milah scolds her for talking to him that way, Emma watches them disappear into the hallway. She watches as Killian Jones slips through her fingertips, and it makes her heart hurt (just a little).

With a silent huff, Emma flings the door behind them, letting it close with a loud, satisfying click. Cursing under her breath, she leans against the door, planting her open palms and forehead against it to refrain from throwing something out of the anger and furry building inside her. Never again will she be nice to that stupid, cocky bastard. In fact, she hopes Milah breaks his heart in two and rips it to shreds like she does with every other guy she’s been with.

• • • •

By the time Emma’s casually stepping out of her bedroom fully dressed, she’s not entirely sure what to expect, but when she enters the main room, the front door is being opened and Milah is emerging with one arm curled around a paper bag full of groceries.

“Guess who beat me here,” Milah says with a smile as she moves away from the doorway.

Emma stops abruptly in her tracks when Killian comes from behind her with another grocery bag in his hands and follows Milah to the kitchen.

“He got here right before I did.”

“What a coincidence,” Emma mutters with a frail laugh. Trying to avoid his gaze, she flees to the door, wanting to escape as quickly as possible.

“Em, where you going? I'm making breakfast for all of us.”

Emma stops and sighs at Milah’s words, slowly tilting her head to look at her roommate, who's setting the bag on the counter.

“I um… I have to get some work done at the library.”

“And I just remembered I have some things to finish before class, so I should probably take off too,” Killian tells his girlfriend, and walks out of the kitchen, avoiding any eye contact with Emma.

“Oh no you two don’t.” Milah is instantly out of the kitchen, grabbing both their hands and hauling them away from the door, towards the table. “I didn’t go to all this trouble to make chocolate chip pancakes for nothing. So you’re both going to sit ,” her voice is firm and strict, leaving no room for arguments as she forces Emma into a chair before pulling Killian around to the other side and pushing him into the one across from her, “and eat .” Killian and Emma steal a glance from one another before returning their attention to Milah.

“You’re going to cook, love?” Killian asks, surprised.

Milah scowls at him. “ Yes, I’m going to cook. I’m making you pancakes for your birthday.” She goes to the counter and falls into her previous task, preparing the pancake batter as Killian swallows thickly, guilt appearing in his features. Emma tries not to stare too long at the bastard, but it’s extremely difficult not to, considering she just gave the man a blowjob in the shower.

“You really didn’t have to go through the trouble for me,” Killian tells his girlfriend, clearing his throat.

“Well, I wanted to,” Milah assures and hurries over to him flashing him a soft smile as she kisses him briefly on the lips. “Happy birthday.” “Thanks, love,” he says appreciatively with a small smile. Fidgeting with her fingers, Emma squirms in her chair, trying to hide the jealousy swarming inside her gut. Her eyes awkwardly wander around the room as Milah leaves his side and returns to her task. Even though Emma continues to avoid eye contact with him, Killian’s stare is burning into her skin. “Do you need any help?” he asks, tearing his gaze from her and looking at Milah. “No, I’m fine. It’s your birthday. You shouldn’t have to lift a finger,” Milah states, stirring the finished batter in a bowl. “You just sit; the food will be done soon.” Emma doesn’t know how much longer she can take of this. She just made out with this guy in the shower and took him in her mouth. She’s seen him naked and he’s seen her naked. Now she doesn’t know how to act around him. Especially with Milah in the same room. The sounds coming from the sizzling skillet and clanking dishes are just not enough to drown out her thoughts, and there’s nothing she can do but fix her gaze on Killian. He’s apparently thinking the same thing as he meets her eyes, regarding her with a contemplative stare. Before Emma knows what’s happening, they’re engaging each other with a heated exchange of yearning looks, expressing their thoughts without being able to put them together in words.

Killian leans his elbows on the table and runs his tongue over his bottom lip; Emma’s not quite sure if it’s intentional or if he’s even aware he’s doing it. Thankfully, they’re interrupted when Milah places a plate of food in front of each of them.

“Dig in, you two.”

Emma’s eyes widen at the mountain of pancakes, strawberry topping and whip cream on her plate. “Well, I know one thing is for sure—we’ll all be going into a sugar coma after this,” Emma comments playfully and Milah sighs.

“Mock them all you want, but it’s Killian’s favorite breakfast, right babe?”

Emma’s brows wrinkle in confusion. Since when has Killian ever mentioned he even liked chocolate chip pancakes? Studying him closely, even he seems to be puzzled.

• • • •

“What the hell?” Emma spats, holding up an empty box of cereal and shaking it in the air to display her disapproval.

“Good morning to you too, love,” Killian replies with a mouthful of cereal, his eyes fixed on the t.v. screen.

Emma glares at him. “You ate all of my cereal.”

He only shrugs, continuing to munch as he watches Black Sails.

So, he's into pirates; now she's starting to see why he wears the biker jacket with the skull and crossbones. “Sorry, love. I got hungry.”

“One, I'm not your love, and two, if you're hungry you should go to your own place.”

“Milah left me in bed and said I had to stay in it until she got back from class, even though she doesn't get out until ten and she knows I'm an early riser. I got bored so I came out here.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Emma lets out an irritated sigh and plops down on the couch next to him. She turns her head, eyeing his cereal. She had one bowl of Cap’n Crunch left and was looking forward to eating it for breakfast when she went into the kitchen, but her hopes and dreams were shattered when she picked up the box, finding it empty.

“You know, it's not polite to stare while someone eats,” Killian comments, never taking his eyes off the television.

“Well, it's not polite to steal someone's food,” she snaps back and peels her eyes away, crossing her arms in frustration.

“Would you like to share?”

Emma’s eyes practically light up as she looks over at Killian who has actually torn his gaze away from his show for two goddamn seconds to offer her a bite. She nods and scoots closer to Killian, tucking her legs underneath to get more comfortable and accepts the offered spoon, taking a mouthful of cereal.

She starts watching the show and subconsciously inches closer until her side is pressed into his as she takes more spoonfuls of cereal from him. She can feel Killian gawking at her as she munches on her cereal, so she looks over catching his gaze, and stops chewing. “What?” she asks with her mouth full.

Killian chuckles. “You like this show?”

“Yeah, why wouldn't I? It has action, adventure, pirates, salty language... sex; what's not to like?”

Killian quirks a brow and smirks, unwilling to refute her. “I don't disagree with you, lo—Swan.”

Emma glares at him, not understanding what he's insinuating. “So just because I'm a woman, I’m not allowed to be into those things? I've actually seen this episode four times for your information.”

He emits an exasperated sigh. “I only asked because the first time I watched this with Milah, she couldn't understand why there were episodes of this. And whenever I mention Black Sails, she asks me what the hell I'm talking about.”

“And what? Because Milah and I are friends who live together, we’re supposed to be exactly alike, have the same tastes and watch the same shows? Her favorite is Young and the Restless and I can't stand that soap opera shit.”

“Aye, agreed. I can't even get her to watch Game of Thrones. She belongs to the—”

“One percent of the population who's never seen an episode?” Emma finishes for him.

“Aye.” Killian chuckles and returns his eyes to the screen as Emma does the same, sliding the spoon into the milk to scoop up some more cereal.

“But Black Sails is better,” they both say in unison before Emma brings the spoon to her lips, and they quickly glance at each other in surprise.

“Jinx, buy me a coke!” they both shout, but Killian (barely) says it first and they share a laugh.

“A little slow on the draw, Swan,” he teases smugly.

Emma flashes a sarcastic smirk. “Shut up.”

Killian’s grin only widens. “Make me.”

She scoffs and takes another bite of cereal before passing him the spoon. “Keep talking, Jones, and I will.”

Killian accepts the spoon with a smirk. “Is that a challenge, Swan?”

Emma’s breath stutters, and she makes the mistake by eyeing his lips, conjuring ways to make him shut that damn mouth of his or perhaps put it to better use. Shaking those thoughts from her mind, she quickly peels her eyes away, transferring her attention to the t.v.

“Go to hell.”

Emma's hoping that will shut him up, but to her chagrin, Killian starts rambling about how much he loves this show and offers his annoying commentary; she's pretty sure he's only trying to press her buttons.

If that's his goal, he's certainly succeeding. She’s very much tempted to kiss him senseless (only to shut him up of course) so it's a good thing Milah arrives home a moment later.

• • • •

“Cap’n Crunch,” Emma blurts out before she can prevent the words from pouring out of her mouth.

“What?” Milah inquires in confusion.

“Cap’n Crunch is Killian’s favorite breakfast,” Emma clarifies casually, scooping up some pancake on her fork.

She is skittish about the concoction in front of her, and Milah certainly doesn’t exceed her expectations; though the pancake is cooked thoroughly, it tastes like batter.

“Aye, but this is a close second,” Killian quickly adds, but when Emma glances over at him, he seems to agree with her about the pancakes, and tries to hide the unpleasantness of the taste in his features.

“Ha, see? I knew it,” Milah chirps proudly as though her previous statement were an educated guess. “So? What do you think?”

“It’s… it’s good,” Emma replies, not wanting to upset her. Besides, if Emma gets enough strawberry topping and whip cream on her fork, it somewhat disguises the taste.

“Really?”

“Aye, love.”

Emma licks up the whip cream from her lips, and her eyes wander, falling upon Killian who, to her surprise, is watching her intently, causing her breath to catch in her throat. She doesn't mean for it to be suggestive, but apparently Killian is very interested in the movement of her tongue. Perhaps because he's felt the effect of that same tongue on his thick, hard cock as she ran it up the length of him. “It’s delicious,” Emma says out loud, but she’s certainly not referring to the pancakes. And they both know it.

Killian’s cheeks are tinged with blush as he tries to suppress a smirk.

“Give me a taste,” Milah tells her boyfriend, and he makes sure to pile the topping onto his fork before feeding her a bite of it. “Mmmm, that is good,” the brunette moans, licking her lips.

Emma quickly looks away, peering down at her plate, but her roommate is making yummy noises and she can hear hers and Killian’s lips smacking together between bites. Suddenly Emma feels nauseous. She sets down her fork and quickly stands up. “Sorry, Milah, the pancakes are good but I really have to go. I remembered I have a study group I have to meet up with at the computer lab. I’ll be back later. Thanks for breakfast.”

Both Milah and Killian are calling after her, but Emma ignores them and grabs her bag, practically running out the door.

• • • •

Emma’s hair is shimmering in the sunlight as she sits next to the window in the Student Center; it's one of the moments he actually stops and appreciates her beauty. She appears to be tired and her face is twisted in concentration as she alternates between reading her textbook and typing on her computer, but she's still a sight for sore eyes after a long morning full of tedious lessons.

He knows he'd never cheat on Milah, but just because he's dating her doesn't mean he can't notice when another woman is beautiful... right? Besides, Emma doesn't like him anyway; she's made it clear several times—every time she calls him a pompous ass or tells him to go to hell or yells at him for eating her food—she can't stand his bleedin’ guts. Even if he weren't dating Milah and even if he were interested in more than their sparring matches everytime he sees her, he doesn't really stand a chance.

“You look like you could use a grilled cheese sandwich and coke, love.”

Emma looks up from her computer, and strings are pulling at his heart as he witnesses the jaded look in her emerald depths that somehow spark to life when he captures her attention. Or maybe it's the soda and sandwich he's offering which instantly has her putty in his hand. Perhaps, he should use this tactic more often.

“Ugh, you have no idea.”

He hands her the refreshingly cool beverage, and she wraps her lips around the straw and takes a sip, sighing in relief. “Aren't I the one who owes you a coke?” Her eyes follow the movement of his hands as he takes the wrapped sandwich out of the bag, and she’s licking her lips, practically drooling when he holds it out in front of her.

“Aye. But you can get me next time,” he chuckles. “Besides, you look like you need it more than I do.”

Emma accepts his answer, although she's barely listening; she's too busy grabbing the sandwich from his hands. Breathing in the smell appreciatively, she begins unwrapping it with care as though it were made of pure gold. Taking a bite, Emma actually closes her eyes, moaning when the golden bread and gooey cheese melts in her mouth, and she takes a moment to savor the taste before swallowing it down.

Killian is fascinated as he watches her. “It’s edible, I presume?”

Emma nods, licking her lips and fingers. “It's delicious.”

Killian grins in success. “So, is it delicious enough to grant me access to your table?”

She doesn't even have to think about it; she only waves her free hand, gesturing to the seat across from her. “Access granted.”

He slides into the booth as her eyes fall shut again, and she takes another bite of the sandwich, her tongue sweeping across her lips when she's finished chewing.

“You have no idea how much I've been cra—” Emma stops, her lashes fluttering when she opens her eyes and creases her brows, studying him suspiciously. “Wait, how did you know grilled cheese was my favorite? I don't recall mentioning that to you. And how did you know I’d be here?”

“Milah told me. She once mentioned your weak spot for grilled cheese and your affinity for going to the student center to study. She also informed me this is where you'd be going after your eight o’clock class.” Is it considered stalking when he’d purposely asked Milah where she’d be in hopes of seeing her here? His girlfriend didn't bat an eye; she only assumed he wanted to know so he could avoid running into her.

Emma rolls her eyes. “Of course she did.”

“And unlike her, I actually pay attention when people tell me things. Milah stopped for takeout the other day at our usual spot and couldn't even remember the thing I order every single time—coconut shrimp. She also doesn't know where my go-to spot is, which is by the lake at the park, even though I've told her several times before.”

Emma purses her lips in contemplation. “Well, she knows what my favorite food and spot is, so maybe she just likes me better than you,” Emma gloats casually in between bites of her sandwich

“Perhaps you're right, love.”

“I'm always right. I wouldn't even be surprised if she dumped you for me.”

“I would be okay with that,” Killian admits with a shrug, unopposed.

Knitting her brows in confusion, Emma is clearly unconvinced. “You'd be okay with that?”

Wagging a suggestive brow, he smirks at the idea. “Am I okay with my girlfriend dumping me for another woman? As long as I can watch, I am.”

Emma glowers at him, her cheeks tinged with blush.

“What? You asked, love.”

She sighs and shakes her head, taking another bite as Killian opens his laptop bag and pulls out his MacBook.

“You don't mind if I work on my homework here, do you?”

She looks like she has to think about that for a moment but he can tell her resolve has already weakened when it comes to him, considering the sandwich she’d just devoured, causing her to appear more human with some food in her belly and the fact that she didn't correct him when he called her love. She hasn't told him to go to hell or kicked him out of the booth yet, so those are already good signs. “I suppose, as long as you're not loud. I have this research paper that requires my full concentration because I've been kind of stuck five pages in and don't really know where to go from there. I've been trying to work on other assignments hoping that will help get the juices flowing again, but so far it hasn't helped.”

“Ah, I see.” Killian purses his lips in thought, offering a soft shrug. “What is it for? Perhaps I can help.”

Emma seems shocked and also a bit amused that he would offer such a gesture. “I doubt you can. It’s for a business communications class and I'm writing about the intercultural communication.”

“That’s not a problem, love. I think I could actually be of great assistance.”

She lifts a brow, her weary eyes clouded with doubt. “But aren't you a mechanical engineering major? How could that possibly help me?”

“Aye, I am, but I’m working on a minor in business.”

Once again, Emma is shocked by the information he's revealing to her. “Really? You're minoring in business? Milah didn't mention that.”

“Well, it's true, love. During my first semester here, a very wise professor was quick to inform me that if I want to succeed in any type of career, a business minor is a great way to improve the soft skills I need—interaction and presentation skills, being able to work with other people on team projects. It’s also helpful to write papers on a topic that isn’t actually a technical report while learning to have an argument and clearly articulate it.”

Emma nods, accepting his answer. “That makes sense, I guess. So, you really want to help me?”

“Sure, why not? I could proofread what you have so far and perhaps provide some input and maybe come up with some ideas for the part you're struggling with.”

“Honestly, I really could use all of that, if you don't mind. But it may take all day, and it’s due tomorrow.”

Again he shrugs very casually. “I have all the time in the world. My schedule for the day is free and clear. Besides, I do owe you for that night at the party when you pretended to be my girlfriend.”

“And for the sweater and books you ruined, and all the food you always eat of mine,” Emma reminds him, but she doesn't seem bitter as she scoots over in her seat. In fact, as he grabs his computer and gets up, taking the spot next to her, she's practically gleaming with excitement.

He feels guilty for almost hitting her with his motorcycle and ruining her things, but he’s hoping to get in her good graces. He's dating Milah, so they'll be putting up with each other for who knows how long. He even saw a sweater he thought of getting her in the window of a small boutique downtown, but he wasn't sure how his girlfriend would react if he bought something for her roommate. He and Milah aren't serious yet, but he still doesn't wish to cause problems between the two lasses. “I really am sorry, love, but I'm hoping to make it up by offering an endless amount of my time and support to help you with your work. I will also fuel you with more caffeine and food when needed.”

“I'm not opposed to that.” Emma is actually holding a small smile as she removes her flash drive and hands it over to him. “Let's see what you got, Jones.”

“Believe me, love—I've got more than you can possibly handle.” As Killian accepts the drive with a smirk and inserts it into the port, he can detect the faintest shade of pink brushing her cheeks from the corner of his eye. Once he pulls up the document on his computer, he’s wallowing in success and begins reading it while Emma works on an assignment for a different class. As much as he enjoys her typical feisty attitude—when she's calling him names and cursing at him or overall heated with anger—he also enjoys her softer, more vulnerable side. He enjoys just being next to her in silence.

• • • •

“Can we get the bill please?”

Killian waits as Victor pays their tab; he had previously insisted he could pay for his own drinks, but his friend was unwilling to accept payment.

“Thanks again, mate.”

“It's not a problem, Killian. I can certainly handle spending a few bucks on my buddy for his birthday.”

“Still, it's much appreciated.”

Killian is glad he's had a few drinks in him because he's spent his entire day thinking about Emma's wicked mouth, how bloody amazing her soft lips felt around him and how her tongue tasted against his. He can't seem to get the image of her gorgeous, perfectly round breasts that’ve been haunting him since he's laid eyes on the naked gems. But even the rum isn't helping much with that issue. In fact, it's only fueling his imagination and the never-ending slew of vivid thoughts and musings of all the possible ways he wants to be with Emma. He likes Milah, but he feels something entirely different for Emma, and he doesn't want to hurt his girlfriend, but she doesn't really deserve being second fiddle. So, he's been preparing himself all day for what exactly he's going to say when he sees her.

“Vic, can you take me to Milah’s? I'm afraid I've had too much to drink to operate my motorcycle.”

Victor chuckles and pats him on the shoulder. “Of course. I was fully expecting that to happen. Why do you think I only had one drink?”

“To tell you the truth, I didn't really pay attention,” Killian admits bashfully. “I only noticed you seem more sober than I am. Thank you again, mate.”

Vic waves him off as they walk to his car. “Don't mention it.”

Killian's eternally grateful for his friend and for the fact that he’s not too drunk. He can still walk without stumbling, he can still speak coherently and he can still express his feelings properly without acting like a fumbling fool.

He’s liked Emma for longer than he's ever cared to admit, but he's always shoved those feelings down because he was afraid of rejection, and also because he never wanted to get into between Milah and Emma and the friendship that has blossomed between them. But the alcohol in his system may be enough to give him the courage he needs to finally break up with Milah and tell Emma how he really feels about her.

• • • •

The day goes by rather quickly, and people flitter in and out of the student center as Killian continues to work on Emma's paper, adding notes, making the necessary corrections, and offering ideas for what to write next. Every once and a while they stop to take a break and fuel themselves with energy drinks and protein bars, and Killian procures some Chinese takeout for when they are both desperate for real food. By the time they're both too exhausted to continue any further, it's ten o’clock at night and there's no one there but them.

“I should probably get going now and catch some zzz's. My paper’s not due until tomorrow evening so I'll have some more time to write. At least now I know which direction I'm heading.”

“Glad to help, love.”

They gather their things, strap their bags over their shoulders and walk out of the building together, taking in the refreshing evening spring air, not a soul in sight.

“Let me take you home. I cannot, on a good conscience, let you walk alone in the dark, love.”

Emma raises a brow in confusion as she eyes the motorcycle parked in front of the building. “You mean on your bike?”

“Why not? Have you ever ridden on one? You never forget your first.”

Emma shakes her head. “No, I haven't, but I don't even live that far from here, as you know.”

A grin graces Killian’s lips, his eyes dancing with devilry as he climbs on the motorcycle. “Consider it your lucky night then. I'm going to the same place, so hop on, Swan,” he encourages, licking his lips. A chill races down Emma's spine; he does not look sexy or enticing on the large motorcycle, straddling the seat all clad in leather as he slips on his helmet. Certainly not. But still, she relents, stepping up to the bike while rolling her eyes.

“Fine.”

Her stomach is full of knots as he pulls a second helmet off the motorcycle and hands it to her. “That's a good lass.”

Slipping it on, she nervously climbs on the seat behind him, placing her hands on his sides.

“You should probably hold on tight, love.”

Accepting the invitation, Emma wraps her arms around him, bracing her chest against his back as he starts up the motorcycle. The engine roars to life, and as they speed through the streets, Emma holds on for dear life, reasoning that it has everything to do with being scared of falling off and nothing to do with the body heat keeping her warm as she tightens her arms around him. She's surprised he can even breathe.

The wind rushes through her hair and it’s the most exhilarating thing she's ever experienced in her life. Emma's heart is racing as her hands grip tightly at his shirt, feeling the solid abs underneath and the rhythm of his breathing. Even though they're not facing each other, the position feels so intimate—more intimate than they've ever been. All of the previous nerves from being on a motorcycle are completely melted away; she feels comfortable with him and finds herself putting her complete trust in Killian, only taking the time to appreciate being this close to him. Before she knows it, Killian is pulling up in front of Emma's apartment, and she removes her helmet, reluctantly hoping off the bike, already missing his body heat. “Thanks for the ride.”

“It's not a problem, love,” he says with a warm smile, and she's surprised when he takes off the helmet but doesn't turn off the engine or get off the bike.

“You comin’ up?” she asks, remembering he said he was going to the same place. But of course the smug bastard wags his brow in a sinful manner, his lips curving into a smirk. “As difficult as it is to refuse such a request from a beautiful woman, I have a girlfriend, love.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Yes, my roommate. Which is why I asked if you were coming up. That and because you told me you were going to the same place.” Her voice is dripping with sarcasm as she shakes her head.

“Ah, there's the Swan I know and love.”

Emma's breath catches in her throat. Did he just say he loved her? No, no he was definitely being sarcastic. “And look, it's the stupid bastard I know and love.”

“You mean pompous ass?” he asks, his smirk never fading.

“That too.”

Killian chuckles, unoffended. “Well, you believed this stupid bastard, so what does that make you?”

Emma tosses a sardonic smirk.

“As much as I would love to come up, I can't tonight; I have an early class tomorrow.”

She doesn't want him there anyways, Emma thinks, but when he slides his helmet back on, her heart is aching, and a part of her wishes he would stay, but of course she’d never let him know that. “Okay. Thanks again for the ride… and for just... today,” she admits with a shaky breath. “You're a lifesaver.”

Killian lifts his hand to his helmet-covered ear as though he didn't hear her over the engine, but she knows he did. “What was that, Swan?”

Emma’s cheeks are heated with blush and she calls out, “you're a lifesaver, okay?!” yelling loudly so he doesn't make her repeat it again.

If it’s even possible, his grin is even smugger than it was before. “That's what I thought you said.”

Emma rolls her eyes, a small smile tugging her lips.

“Goodnight, love. And good luck on your paper.”

With that, he revs up the engine, glancing at her one last time before he takes off, zooming down the street. Emma stands there watching him as he disappears into the night.

The next day she ends up finishing the paper using his helpful advice and it earns a perfect grade, no thanks to Killian (but of course he doesn't see it that way when she tells him). Two days later, she finds a package in hers and Milah’s mailbox from the clothing boutique downtown. She's blown away because it's a white Camille like the one her mother had given her before it was ruined. There's also an anonymous note that reads, “It's probably not as good as the one your mother gave you, but I do believe this is long overdue,” and she knows exactly who it's from. Emma blushes and smirks, tucking it in her arms protectively as she walks up to her apartment. She absolutely loves the sweater, but she'll never tell him that. She’ll also never tell her roommate who actually gave it to her. It’ll be their little secret.

• • • •

Killian is practically trembling with fear as he and Victor reach the apartment. “You really don't have to go in with me, Vic. I am fine from here.”

“Relax, I’ll leave soon enough. I just wanted to make sure you got here safely and were able to get into the apartment.”

Killian pulls out his keys, holding up the one for the apartment to show it to him. “I have a key, mate. And I'm certainly capable of letting myself in.” He doesn't usually like to barge in unannounced—Killian is still feeling the (wildly pleasant) effects from the last time he barged in uninvited—but he’d knocked a couple of times with no answer, even though both Milah and Emma's cars were parked in front of the building.

Victor gestures to the door. “By all means,” he challenges.

Killian rolls his eyes before inserting the key with ease and unlocking the door, pushing it open. The place is dark, and Killian is starting to panic as he flips up the light switch.

“Surprise!”

The sight before him certainly is a surprise. He’s in shock as his eyes circle around the room, seeing all of his favorite people there and many more. Killian is in awe because he's surprised Milah did this all for him.

His girlfriend is the first to approach, placing a kiss on his lips. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks, love. You really didn't have to do this.”

“Of course I did. I'm your bae,” she reminds Killian, pulling away from him. “I’m going to get some punch. Would you like some?”

“Sure, love.”

Milah leaves his side and goes off to fetch some drinks, but she gets distracted in the process and chats with some of her friends.

Killian chuckles and turns to face his sister, who’s approaching him with a smile and kissing him on the cheek. “Happy Birthday, Killy.”

He playfully rolls his eyes; he hates when people call him that, but his sister is the only one allowed to. “Let me guess; you put Milah up to this?”

Leanna laughs and shakes her head. “Actually, no. This wasn't my idea. According to Milah, it was all hers,” his sister pauses as she looks away, searching the crowd, “but if you ask me, someone else planted it into her head. She also helped put this together and called me up, asking if I could come into town a little earlier than I'd planned.”

His brows crease in confusion as his eyes follow Leanna’s gaze and lands on a beautiful blonde who's standing in the middle of the crowd with a drink in her hand, her eyes looking away from him.

Killian shudders, the air in his lungs sharply escaping him. He’s always known how beautiful she is, but that word is such a pale comparison to how she looks at the moment. Maybe it's because he’s seeing Emma in a much different light after their morning mishap and the accompanying activities in the shower, but right now, she literally takes his breath away with how stunning and undeniably sexy she is. Long golden curls pulled up into a high ponytail, vibrant green eyes framed by long lashes and dark makeup, a glittering black sequined V-neck dress that hugs her curves and falls mid-thigh, long shapely legs and shiny black, ankle wrap stilettos are all components that orchestrate the vision pulling him in.

As alluring as her elegance is, something from the corner of his eye captures his attention, and he pulls his eyes away, catching a glimpse of the cake on the table behind her; it's a pirate ship cake. He also notices all of the decorations—the streamers, the balloons, the table settings—are representing nautical pirate themes, and he has to smirk at that and quickly searches for Emma again, finding her staring back at him. Now he knows she is behind all of this.

Damn it, Swan.

He’s cursing her silently because he didn't think he could possibly like her any more than he already did, but he does. (Only a wee bit more.)

Killian walks over to her, and she has a small smile on her face, both of them blushing profusely. He wants to grab and kiss her, but obviously that's out of the question, so he awkwardly runs his hand through his hair, not knowing exactly what to say to the woman who'd given him a blowjob in the shower and then fled… twice, so he settles for a casual greeting while trying to keep his voice from shaking, but it doesn't work very well.

“Hi,” he manages, his words utterly wrecked and his stomach burning with nerves; he’s a bloody mess. After all, this is the first time he’s actually spoken to her since their awkward and surprisingly hot encounter that morning.

“Hi.”

#cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan #college au #enemies to lovers #love triangle #jealousy #a birthday surpise #my fic

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sebbytrash · 7 years ago

Text

Through His Eyes - Part Two

Summary - Bucky arrives at the compound to start afresh but you and him have a somewhat colorful past, colorful being that you met him once before as The Winter Soldier and it did not go well. New beginnings, yeah? If you can learn to forgive.

Pairing - Eventual Bucky x Reader

Warnings - Nightmare, mentions of blood and torture, a mega ton of guilt and sad stuff guys. A N G S T

A/N - I need to do this justice guys, it’s my baby. Feedback loved and appreciated Please love me, I haven’t written in forever.

Through His Eyes Masterlist

The next hour is spent eating and laughing with Steve, some of the tension ebbing away whilst he recounted all the ways Sam got rejected when they were at Tony’s party a few days before. Poor guy unintentionally hit on some guys wife and it did not go well. After clearing away the plates and containers, Steve hugs you again and decides to head off to bed.

“Y/N...I just-” Steve stops at the door, suddenly serious again, “You know it wasn’t him right? Not really?”

You hesitate a little, testing out the weight of it, caught between wanting to please him and not wanting to like. Was it something you had accepted. “I know Steve.” Maybe. Did it matter?

“It haunts him, you know? Especially at night.” He smiles wearily, the strain of today written all over his face for the first time, leaves you to feel the weight of his words.

It wasn't something you had considered, not fundamentally. Maybe you’d thought he somehow moved on, never dwelled on the things he done. Maybe you simply didn't care, too caught up in how it affected you and his other victims, but still, now you were thinking. Conflicting emotions wrapping around your heart, crudely cut joy, guilt, pain and maybe a little...empathy. Wrapping tighter and tighter till you weren't sure which was strongest.

Shit.

It’s long past midnight and you're still awake, lying in your bed staring up the ceiling like it contains the answers to all of life's problems, the answers to nothing and something, and everything in between. Today had been a lot to process, seeing Bucky for the first time since...well, then, seeing not the soldier but the man. Seems he was all duct tape and glue like you, the brutal reality a stark contrast to the man you imagined, a far cry from the dead eyes and blank stares of before. Steve’s words loop around, caught between memories and nightmares and a new feeling that's here, scratching at the surface of your fortified heart.

Guilt.

That’s the point isn't it? You're supposed to forgive him now, supposed to understand the why and forget the how. Logical, practical...human. If only it were that simple.

Now, what do I do with this?

“Shit.” Muffled and low, a voice sounds outside your door. Your hands automatically reach for you gun, tucked under your pillow and wedged between the mattress and bed frame. Bob. Most reliable friend you’d ever had.

There’s someone there, hovering outside your door...are they pacing? Yep, distinct sound of threads being worn away and thoughts turning over. Less concerned for your safety and more curious and sort of annoyed now, you hoist yourself into a sitting position, roll your neck a few times, muscles gone stiff at the strenuous ceiling staring and finally find your feet. You swing the door open in one fast, fluid motion stunning your guest and in turn yourself.

Bucky.

Thoughts liquify, stunned to the point you forget to be afraid, that you should be.

“Shit, did I wake you?” He asks, voice ragged and guilty heavy, “I just- I had to say… I shouldn’t have come here. This was fucking selfish.” He runs a heavy hand down his face, gripping at his jaw so hard it had to hurt.

You're still standing there, slack jawed and blinking stupidly, it would be funny if you could muster enough coherence to recognise it but he doesn’t seem to notice, or mind, and you can tell he’s mentally berating himself. His eyes say much more than he seems to be managing with his mouth. He steps towards you and the motion jolts you, makes you take an involuntary step back but finally clearing the fog a little.

Noting your movement he stills, lowers his hands to his side and looks at you right in the eye for the second time today, lets you see the pure agony in them, “I just had to say it, Y/N, I’m so sorry for what I... if I could take it all back I would. I had to at least say it.” He holds your gaze a second longer before turning and disappearing down the hall. You watch him retreat, wondering how you got to the point where you might even feel sorry for him? Like a smidge.

Despite that, it's a while before your breathing returns to normal, before you heart stops trying to escape from your chest. It takes even longer for the tears to dry.

“You look like shit.” You do, it's no surprise really that Sam would point it out after 0.5 of a second. Shithead.

“Bite me, Birdboy.” You flick a piece of cereal at him, dry since there was no milk. Tony was gonna be pissed.

“Out of milk again?” You nod, tipping the rest of the bowl into your mouth, “Momma Stark is gonna lose his shit.”

“I have a plammphf…” You say around the mouthful of cereal earning you a look.

“You’re disgusting.” Sam says, prompting you to show him the entire contents of your mouth as punishment. He wanted disgusting after all, “God, you’ve been hanging around why guys too much.” You shrug, he’s probably right, and finish your mouthful.

“Anyways, I have a plan.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yup. I don't plan on being here when Mrs Doubtfire wakes up.”

“Not much of a plan is it?”

“All I got dude.” He rolls his eyes and flops into the chair next to you, his own bowl of dry cereal in his hand.

“Hey.” He says, softer this time, leans in a little “you good?”

“Yeah, I’m good Sam. Promise.”

Sam hangs around most of the day, you suspect he’s keeping an eye on you but say nothing, honestly just grateful for the company. You eat, you watch movies, all in it's a good day. Yet, you can’t stop glancing at the door, wondering if he’ll appear, wondering what you’ll do. Decisions, reactions.

“Hey kid, you doing okay?” Sam asks, nods towards the door like he’s seen every glance.

You sigh, “Yeah, I am. I’m trying to be.” He raises his eyebrows at this, silently questioning, “I want to get passed this, forgive and forget.”

“Oh, yeah? For Steve or for you?” He tries to stay neutral, but you hear it anyway.

“Both, I guess?” You reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “I want to, just, not sure if I can.”

“You can, if that’s what you want. Just gonna take some time, kid. You deserve time.”

Around 5pm, Sam gets called out on a last minute mission, nothing too drastic but Redwing was needed and so Sam goes too. You stay in the lounge, adamant you can finish the full season of Stranger Things before you go to bed and somewhere along the way you fall asleep.

Dead eyes. Dead eyes.

The smell of blood is overwhelming, blood and sweat, stuck to you, drowning you. He’s here, like always, walking closer and closer. You blink a few times, trying to clear the haze, trying to see his face but it’s blurry. It’s never blurry.

The knife is clear.

He's in front of you now, face blurry except those dead eyes, drawing up his full size as he begins his slow patterns on your arm, starts at the bottom, twists and turns the blade as your scream in agony, the sounds of knife tearing flesh somehow louder. He stops, you look. A. The screaming starts again. And again.

“Y/N, Y/N wake up, it’s a dream.”

You jerk away from the cold touch on your arm, press yourself back against the couch like you can disappear into it. Figures it would be him, kneeling on the floor in front of you.

“M’sorry. Seemed like you should wake up.” Bucky says, eyeing you warily and sitting back on his haunches, maybe making himself a little smaller. You say nothing, mind still recovering from the nightmare and struggling to reconcile that Bucky with this one, the one with kind eyes and not dead.

“You said my name.” He whispers, like he wants to know but want’s to not.

“Yeah well, you had a starring role.” You say back, voice breaking a little at the end and putting a little heat in the tone.

He nods again, face aiming for detached and falling somewhere short in agony. Climbs to his feet, and goes to leave, turns a little ways back and stills, “You star in mines too.”

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#kale writes #through his eyes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes

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