#liam neeson smut

[liam-neesons-best-girl]

Confessions {Qui-Gon Jinn x Reader}

approx. 1,000 words

Summary: You and Anakin blow off some steam by getting drunk together. When you return back for the night you are greeted by Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan Kenobi who insist you get to bed. As Qui-Gon prepares you to sleep, he hears your drunken confessions; of love and insecurities.

Warnings: F! reader, insecurities, drunkenness, (Anakin and reader are in their 20s), reader and Anakin are platonic, angst, 18+

As you return back to the grounds from your impulsive bar hopping with Anakin, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are the first people you see. Disappointment is clearly written all over their faces, since two of their best Jedis are coming home past curfew and three sheets to the wind.

"sshhhh Ani, someone could hear us," you giggle out whisper yelling as he trips over his feet like a new born giraffe.

"Sorry, which way do we go," he asked with a tilted head, not sure if he could recognize the corridors in the dark.

"This way, follow m-" you started as you turned left but were cut off by the strong chest of Master Qui-Gon who was just around the corner.

Behind Qui-Gon was Obi-Wan, who could not hold back his giddiness. He wasn't angry at your antics. He loved that you and Anakin were acting like normal young people but had to put on a poker face for Qui-Gon as he handed down punishments.

Your cheeks were flush, scarlet with embarrassment for getting caught by someone you respected so highly. You were always trying to please Qui-Gon. It was an unspoken truth that you were his favorite padawan; because of your discipline in learning the ways of the force and in the longing glances you both exchanged over the past many months.

Qui-Gon's piercing gaze fixes on Anakin, and then shifts to you, his brow furrowing as he detects something beneath the surface. He knew that bar hopping wasn't your idea. Anakin was corrupting the sweet girl beside him, and Qui-Gon was not going to stand for it.

"Anakin, Obi-Wan will escort you back to your quarters," Qui-Gon ordered, putting an end to the night's activities. "And you," he turned and lowered his gaze to your sheepish figure, "come with me."

You nod in comply and Qui-Gon gently takes you by the hands, leading you to your bedroom. Yawning the whole way there, Qui-Gon's anger fades into protectiveness, just wanting to make sure you don't hurt yourself and sleep off as much as you can of what will be a massive hangover.

He shuts the door quietly, as to not startle you with any loud sounds and sees you struggling to remove your tunic. Your arms are stuck three quarters of the way out and the twisting of your shoulders isn't making the fabric roll up your back as you hoped it would.

"hhmph! Qui, could you help me, pretty pleasssssse," you slur out to him for assistance. He doesn't want to risk any impropriety but seeing you struggle was enough to throw all of the norms out the window.

"Relax your arms," he said, reaching for the hem of the shirt to pull over your head. Free from the straight jacket tunic, you stood before him in your lilac lace bra.

He let out a shallow breath as he looked down at you, remarking to himself how soft and cuddly your skin appears to be, and the way the lace of the bra seems to be painted on your breasts, fitting perfectly to the swell of your chest.

In no time flat you have removed your bottoms and exposed you cheeky bum to him, clad in lilac panties, matching your bra.

Oblivious to the tension of the situation, since your mentor is a foot away from your practically naked form you ask, "would you tuck me in?"

He nods, and follows you to the edge of the bed. He watches you cuddle into the silky soft sheets and nuzzle up to your pillow. Qui-Gon loosely drapes the blanket around your form and shift to get up as you reach for his wrist.

"Is there something else you need of me?" he asked, thinking you would ask for another blanket or for a glass of water.

You hesitate, feeling a wave of insecurity wash over you. "Can you… stay? Just for a little while? Just to talk?"

"What is it you would like to talk about?" he inquired, knowing you already confide in him as a mentor for your Jedi training. For some reason he could sense that this would be a different kind of conversation.

"Qui-Gon?" you say barely a whisper.

"Yes?" he replies, his gaze fixed on you with unwavering attention.

"Am… am I pretty?" you ask, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

"What?" Qui-Gon's brow furrows in confusion. "Of course, you are," he says, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "You are beautiful, both inside and out."

Tears fell at the corners of your eyes as Qui-Gon's words wash over you, colliding with some of the negative feelings of your own body's image in your mind. The alcohol had gotten the best of your emotions.

"Then why… why don't boys like me?" you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "I mean, I try to be nice and friendly but no body seems to look at me. Like I train, and I train, and I train but I am still soft and nervous around people. I feel like this is a never ending cycle of disappointment. I'm too ugly for my own good."

You end your rant with a heavy heart and a long silent pause. You slowly lift your head from where it is on your pillow to see if Qui-Gon left. Instead, his gaze meets yours with a flicker of angry passing through his eyes.

"They are complete fools," he said passionately. "They fail to see you for your truest form. You tower over them in intellection, and float by them with elegance and grace."

"But Qui-" you sit up and raise your hand to stop him but he continues.

"No, you should never feel less than because these dumb boys don't see what I see in you."

For the first time in a long while, you allow yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you are worthy of love.

"I'm sorry for getting so worked up. Its time to rest now," he says, settling in next to you in bed, sat up, and rubbing your back soothingly over the covers.

You welcome the feeling of his hands and of his warmth radiating over the entire bed.

"Thank you," you whisper to him as you drift of to sleep.

Of course, starlight. I want you to feel loved. I will always be here for you.

[sturnsreader]

scars

TW: self harm

!! requested by @sturns-posts !!

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

“y/n?” you heard your boyfriend, matt, call from upstairs. you sighed and made your way up stairs to find matt on his laptop. you walked around the corner and smiled walking up to him.

“yes matty?” you asked cheerfully.

“are you okay?” he asked sounding concerned.

“yeah, why?” you asked confused at by the sudden worry.

“well, im just worried about you.” he sighed. you noticed that he kept looking back down to his computer screen to making glances at your arms.

“you would tell me if you weren't, right?” he asked.

you gulped wondering what he knew.

“yes, baby, please dont worry about it.” you nodded quickly before turning back to go downstairs.

he grabbed your waist and pulled you back into his arms playing with your hair.

“are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again repeating himself. you nodded into his chest before he pulled you back leading you into his room. he didn’t say a word, just sat you on his bed and opened up the screen. on the left hand side of the screen was a recent picture of you in mcdonalds that a camera man had taken, on the right hand side was the same photo just zoomed into your wrist. your scars visible for the world to see. you read the headline over and over in your head sighing.

'HAS TWITTER TROLLS PUSHED MATTHEW STURNIOLO’S GIRLFRIEND OVER THE EDGE?'

“what is this? you told me you stopped a while ago and if you felt like that you were going to tell me. did i do something wrong?” he asked pointing to your wrist on the screen with teary eyes. you couldn't speak, your whole throat had closed up.

he noticed and pulled you onto his lap staring into your stinging eyes.

“i love you so much and i want nothing but for you to be the happiest girl ever. i let anyone hurt you. whether they're old or new, i don't care because i'm here for you now and i always will be." he smiled before kissing your forehead softly. a tear escaped your eye making you smile.

“we don't have to talk about this now, whenever you're ready.” he smiled resting your head onto his chest as he wiped the tears off.

| 2 hours later |

“hey, i know you wanted to go to the cabin back in massachusetts, so were going with nick and chris tomorrow morning!” he said with a smile while tucking your hair behind your ear.

“baby, you didn’t have to”

“shh, i wanted to.” he said as he hugged you around the waist.

you waited at least 10 seconds before letting go. matt’s hugs were the most comforting thing ever. “can you help me pack, please.”

matt shook his head up and down with a big smirk while grabbing your hand and walking downstairs to the bedroom.

“oh, how long are we staying.”

“since were with nick and chris we are staying for a week and a half, but soon we can go alone.”

he was digging through the closet trying to find a bag big enough before you made him stop.

“i love you so much.”

“i love you more, my love” you could tell he meant it. “we are going down to nick and chris’s house tomorrow morning at 4 am. i know its early but i want to get there earlier, if its okay with you.” he said right after he found a perfect suitcase to fit all your stuff.

| two days later |

“hey babe i was scrolling through things to do here and there is a tattoo parlor like five minutes away from us can we PLEASE get tattoos together!” nick said excitedly.

“shut up you have been rambling about tattoos the whole time we-“ chris said as you cut him off.

“nick i would LOVE to get a tattoo with you and i know exactly what i want. follow me!” you said as you go to find matt in the store.

“im getting a tattoo with nick and i just want you to draw stars around my scars.” you say while going through your purse to find a pen.

matt looks at you in awe as he takes the marker and draws the cutest stars ever. you start to tear up. you look up at him as he concentrates on drawing them all.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

not my best work but i tried ����🥲

i hope you enjoyed and if you have anything you need to talk about message me! i love you guys sm🩷.

[obsessedlovers]

seeking for stars

(a tale of stars and sorrow part 1)

Qui-Gon Jinn x female oc

- smut / +18

- bondage

- age gap

// "Feel, dont think.", I gasp, not able to do anything more than melt under him, his motions, his presence. //

"Master", i say, greeting the tall, calm man entering the archive. It's a quiet afternoon, my shift gets finally close to its end. The jedi slowly passes the endless rows of shelves, holding every memory of the universe.

His deep measured voice draws me in his direction. "I want to speak to your master Jocasta Nu." Just for a second, i blink, feeling overwhelmed by his capturing aura. "The master is on a mission, may i offer my help instead?"

The Jedi Temple Library is one of the most important places of research and knowledge in Coruscant and the whloe core worlds, often sought out by members of the Jedi Council. But only the masters work on these requests. I am part of the educational jedi service corps. But i was a jedi initiate, a poor one for sure.

Qui-Gon looks down on me, not unfriendy, rather inquiring. He is tall, way taller than me. His blue eyes fix me with a piercing gaze. "What's your name, apprentice?" "Riaye Chas, master."

"Riaye, show me where the holograms of the great hyperspace war are located." I nod, leading the older man through the library aisles. The archive rooms are vast and extensive, although i am learning for years now to be an archivist in the corps, i still get lost.

I feel a bit uncomfortable as the jedi master follows me, as if i could feel his glimpses burning on me. He is so close, his robe lightly touches me. As we finally come to the right corridor, i sense his intense feelings and determance.

Just as I'm about to show him the holograms, Qui-Gon steps towards me. I am pushed against the shelves. "Master-", I start off suprised. His long hair falls against my neck, even through his thick robe I can feel his muscles keeping me in place.

But its more than this. I can feel him slightly using the force, using it to stop me from moving, building a protective, sound-insulating field around us and the corridor.

My breathing speeds up. I look up into his eyes. "You're not good at hiding your feelings." He's so close that his beard softly brushes me. My heart races. "Do you want me to touch you?" I nod, too fast. He chuckles, already running his fingers under my robe, untying the laces.

Qui-Gon steps back, looking at my naked body. Than he lifts his hand, and suddenly the laces of my robe start lifting up from the ground, winding and tying one of my arms to my thigh, one behind my back.

Standing on one leg, feeling the tense grip of the strings slowly wraping around my breasts, exposing them to him. I feel my pussy clenching, waiting for him to fill her. Qui-Gon comes closer, glazing at his work, running his fingers over my tied up body.

He bends down, his lips kissing my skin, the strings cutting in it.

My legs started trembling. He forces himself into me, pushing into my throbbing parts. I cannot help but moan. My voice encourages him, he starts moving in me, slowly first but than harder. "You're so big master."

I am hardly standing, he holds me in position while pushing into me. His robe falls loosely from his shoulders, but he has barely taken off his clothes. I feel even more exposed.

Qui-Gon loosens the ties, the strings fall on the ground within one motion. My body trembles from the tension. The jedi master turns me, his hands on my hips. He takes me from behind, fucking me relentlessly.

I cannot hold on myself, his moans are so dark yet so soft. I tremble into one orgasm after another. I feel Qui-Gon using the force, pushing my buttons, pressing softly against the most sensitive spots as he thrusts into me.

I look into the corridors, fearing someone could stumble into this scene, into me, being fucked by a member of the Jedi Council. He seems to notice my fears as he utters his direction, aiming directly for my weak spot.

"Feel, dont think.", I gasp, not able to do anything more than melt under him, his motions, his presence.

I practicaly sink down, allowing him to pound even deeper into me. I can feel that he's close now, his aura flickers around him, stretching out until it nearly burns me. I am force sensitive, but I never really got to use it. Now, as Qui-Gon is so close, i feel the force soaking me, infusing me. I feel powerless and more powerfull than ever at the same time.

Qui-Gon increases his pace, his moans get restless, nearly desperate. I merely manage to take it, feeling overwhelmed by coming over and over again. The force reacts to him, it reaches out to me, my body, nearly burns me.

I clench around him, I feel his cock pulsating as his cum fills my pussy. My legs shake as its warmth runs down my legs. I look at him, unsure what to do.

[dreaminghour]

Fandom: Down with Love (2003), The A-Team (2010)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Catcher Block/John "Hannibal" Smith

Characters: Catcher Block, John "Hannibal" Smith

Additional Tags: Phone Sex, Slightly Out of Character because author has not seen The A-Team (2010), Size Difference, Crack Crossover, Podfic Welcome, Ficlet

"I'm so sorry, darling. The darnedest thing," Catcher said. "I was just on my way out the door to meet you when this big Irish Wolfhound forced his way in, pushed me back inside and began nuzzling me."

Words: 1,059

[berriwritertingz]

the summer i wrote | one

content: future smut, fluff, angst, basically all of it

pairing: milo manheim x afab!reader & ross lynch x afab!reader

summary: every summer, you travel to dahlia's beach to reunite with your mother's closest friend and her son. but this year he unexpectedly brings a friend along. caught in the gentle waves of affection and longing, you find yourself navigating uncharted waters where the boundaries of friendship blur.

notes: this is loosely based on the summer i turned pretty. i just watched the second season and lawwwd i wanted to make a ff soo bad. plus milo and ross have absolutely none anywhere.

masterlist

You loved Dahlia's beach. It always smelled salty with a hint of expensive barbeque if you were in the city. But near the countryside there was the sweet smell of honeysuckle. That's where you would rather be, where the tall grass met the sandy dunes. The sounds of hooves on pavement and bustle around the farmers market on a hot weekend afternoon.

This summer was no different. Your stomach churned, rumbling in excitement as you neared the beach house. It was huge. Five bedrooms with enough bathrooms. Too many patios surrounding it. Turquoise colored pool with a small waterfall. The house was a blueish gray color with white accents. Calm and minimalistic, much unlike the other grand colorful houses on the street. It sat like a diamond around other stones in a non normal way. The most priceless of them all. Placed directly in front of the beach but not close enough to tourist spots so it was always quiet. It was always such an amazing way to spend the three months in between school. You looked forward to it every year.

But that wasn't all you looked forward to.

Your mom honked as you guys entered the driveway. A wide smile plastered on her face. Your mom seemed to love this place more than she loved you, even if she denied it when you asked. You knew the truth. Summers at the beach house were the only time she got to see her best friend, Camryn.

"Hey!" A voice squealed from the porch. You shuffled out of the car, legs aching after a long 5 hours. As you stretched you were met with Cam, arms spread jumping for joy. Practically knocking you over. They were best friends from high school. Going to college together and even sharing a dorm room. With how they acted every time they met, you were convinced they had separation anxiety. They didn't get to see each other throughout the year. Other than here of course. For they lived states apart, Dahlia's being a quiet beach town that was located in the middle.

Camryn engulfed you in a bear hug first, gushing about how pretty you are. Making you do a spin in your dress. Once she pulled away she did the same to your mom whose high pitched voice could be heard from the beach. As they talked about how ‘different’ each other looked. You watched as they walked inside hand in hand when your eyes met his.

Milo.

He radiantly smiled as he trotted over to you. The classic hands in pockets, ruffled hair, and expensive glasses. It was like he had a glow up every year whether it was him dressing better or maybe getting a bit taller.

"Hi" He cooed embracing you in a tight hug. The smell of his overpriced cologne filled your nose. It reminded you of sugary trees and cool waves. Much like the beach house. He was another reason you loved the beach house so much. Without him you were stuck with two middle aged ladies whose celebrity crush was Liam Neeson and only watched tv shows made by Shonda Rhimes. He was fun. He never made you feel left out or alone. He was everything any girl could wish for. Tall, smart, rich, and incredibly good eye candy.

"Hello, Milo." You smiled as he let you go.

He ran a hand threw his hair looking down at you. Eyes trailing down your body strangely. His expression was unrecognizable. Your face heated up turning your head to avoid his gaze. He touched the bottom of your dress. Yanking the fabric gently.

"This is a little short isn't it?" He questioned eyes meeting yours. Lips curled up in a sly smile. Rolling your eyes you scoffed slapping his hand away. He acted like a big brother sometimes. Especially with your clothes. Every summer complaining about how short your shorts were or how revealing your bathing suit was.

"Oh shut up you do this every-" The sight of someone else on the porch caught your eye. "Who's that?" You questioned raising an eyebrow.

Milo turned around and nodded in acknowledgement as the boy made his way down the stairs. Bleached blond hair slightly overgrown and wide smile on display as he made his way towards you two.

"Y/N this is Ross, Ross Y/N. He's staying the summer with us this year." Ross reached his hand out to you. Clad in silver rings that looked a bit out of your price range. Does Milo have any Middle Class friends? It was unusual. No one ever came to the beach house from back home. It was like a unsaid rule between everyone. Written in big red letters 'No Strangers'. The dads didn't even bother coming even though Milo's paid for it.

"Nice to meet you." He looked you up and down a tongue swiping over his lips. "Milo didn't tell me how pretty you are."

"Dude!" Milo exclaimed punching his shoulder rolling his eyes.

"Thank you." You beamed softening your voice. Milo scoffed walking towards the trunk slightly bumping into Ross. But he didn't seem to mind, hazel eyes still trained on you.

"So where are you fr-" Ross was cut off by a slightly pissed off Milo. "Are you guys serious? C'mon Ross help me with these bags." Ross walked away backwards eyes still focused on you with that addicting smile of his.

"See you inside?" He whispered loud enough for you to hear him.

You didn't respond. Only nodding as you strolled inside.

a/n: soooo what do you guys think? im still trying to figure out this tumblr writing stuff im so used to just reading ive never written and posted anything on here lololol. pls be patient with me! a few tips and tricks would be greatly appreciated!!

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[bambi-slxt]

🤍𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐭 𝐎𝐮𝐭 ~ 𝐩𝐭. 𝐨𝐧𝐞🤍

𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕨 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

word count: 1.1k

genres: established friendship

warnings: voluntary usage of sir, desperation, gentle!dom!matt, slight blasphemy, biting, slight choking.

notes from bambi: no use of y/n, poc friendly, first work, please enjoy!

pt. two here, pt. three here

“MATT CAN YOU COME HERE?”

“WHAT.”

“JUST GET IN HERE!”

“Do I have to?”

“YES UGH.”

Matt opened the door to his bedroom. “What do you want, kid.”

You lay curled up on his bed, wearing an oversized tee and faded blue underwear hidden underneath his plaid bed covers, staring intently at your phone screen. “I've been trying to figure this out for a solid twenty minutes and I need your help.”

“What's up?” He settled on the bed next to you, slinging an arm behind his head.

“So I’m reading this smut thing right.”

“...Sure, why not,” Matt said, tossing his hand up in exasperation at the apparent lack of anything sacred.

You grinned, enjoying his moment of discomfort. You normally went to him for sex advice, especially after a rather awkward encounter last summer left no room for privacy in your friendship, and it served to make the two of you closer in almost every way. Shaking the memory away, you dial back in. “I don't understand the position they're in right now.”

“Hate when that happens. Lemme see?”

You handed the phone over, picking at a nail in the absence of mental stimulation. Looking around his room, you sighed, feeling at home in the familiar space. His wall decor, all woodsy-themed, the handful of Liam Neeson photos still clinging to the wall, and a new addition from you and Chris’s combined efforts to make a Lego brown bear figure - it turned out pretty good, and Chris loved it so much he dedicated a whole Instagram post to ‘Scruffy the Bear’. 

“What the fuck…” Matt muttered, and you turned back towards him. 

“Mm?”

“This makes no sense. How are her ankles-”

“THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT. WHERE DID THEY COME FROM?”

“I'm invested now. Come here.” Matt leaned forward and patted the bed space in front of him, still staring, brow furrowed, at the offending device.

“Ouuu, what are you gonna do to me?” you snarked, languidly making your way across the checkered plaid.

“Shut up. Okay so she…no. They started out… facing each other? Why?”

“No idea,” you replied, sitting criss-cross in front of Matt, nudging his outstretched legs to the same position. He leaned forward, elbow on his knee, still reading. “ It says, ‘Her ankles crossed in an x behind him, and he…’ Okay, so like…”

Matt pulled his knees up, separating his legs. “Come here, I think she's sitting right in front of him, and her legs are wrapped around his, like, middle.”

“Sure,” you said, getting into position, “But where are his legs?”

“I'm assuming they're under hers? Beside hers??” Matt said, annoyed at the dismal lack of description. “But how would I know?”

He slid his legs underneath yours, his hands going behind his back to hold your calves. “I think she was closer…” He murmurs, his voice lowering the closer your bodies became. “Something like that.”

Your legs wrapped fully around Matt’s torso, knees pressed against his sides to keep you from falling back into the bed. You felt the heels of his feet press gently against the soft panty fabric covering your ass, and realized you were staring down at his stomach. You looked up to see his pale blue eyes fixated on you. 

“Hi.” Breathy.

“Hi.” Breathless.

“I think I’m gonna-”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, moving his hands from your calves to wrap them around your back, acting as support for your disrupted center of gravity. The phone lay forgotten on the bed. 

Noticing, you cleared your throat and picked it up dipping your head back towards his stomach to scroll to the next scene. “So once they're here…it seems like they just go into it?”

“No way,” Matt said, leaning forward and pressing his forehead gently against yours. “That's mad uncomfortable.” He smelled like mountain air and freshly-cut pinewood. Quit smelling him, you freakazoid.

“Well I’m sure that doesn't matter if you're horny.”

Matt tilted his head and nodded. “True. There's just. So many other positions. That aren't nearly as complicated.”

“I don't know…I kinda like this one,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

“Hm?”

“What?”

“What'd you say?” Matt asked, pulling away to look at you again. A smile threatened to creep onto his lips. Quit looking at his lips.

“Nothing, what was the next thing…” you said, turning your attention to the phone once more. 

One of his hands left your back, the other tensing against your skin. Matt brought his free hand up toward you, a calloused knuckle underneath your chin and his thumb right below your bottom lip. You looked up slowly, guided by his gentle fingers. “What did you say, hun?”

That smile had fully formed now. You couldn't help but return one of your own. “I didn't say anything.” You put the phone down, letting your hands make contact with his chest. Moving up his body, towards his collarbones, snaking around to meet behind his neck, slipping through the soft curls at the base of his hairline. His thighs, pressed against the outside of your own, began to tremble ever so slightly.

“I heard something,” he insisted, making a gargantuan effort to drag his gaze upwards from your lips. Matt's thumb lifted from your chin to pull on your bottom lip, puffing it out and opening your mouth in the process. “Come on, I know you remember,” he breathed, his voice low and steady. Your heart thumped in your chest - how long had that been going on?

You looked up at him, your mouth slightly open in strict obedience to his fingertips, brows tilted upwards, assuming an expression of innocence. “Sorry, Matty…I forgot.”

It now stands to mention that his pelvis had been pressed against yours this entire time, and at this moment, a hardness seemed to grow in what little space remained between your sex and his. A shiver buzzed up your spine, and the hand on your back flexed in response, tightening its now-possessive grip on your body. Matt let out a shaky breath. “Forgetting…that’s not good, is it?”

“No sir.”

His hard-on seemed to leap to attention. Matt’s eyes stayed locked on yours, almost as if they were searching for something.

“What is it?” you asked softly.

He blinked a few times, shaking his head, gaze still fixed. Tearing his eyes away, Matt leaned toward your shoulder, burying his nose in the crook of your neck. His hand fell away from your chin to hang in the space between you.

“Gonna…Tryin’ not to…do somethin’... might regret.” Matt's words were poorly enunciated, almost as if he was preoccupied. His cock throbbed against your panties, blood pulsing hard enough to pound through the thickness of his sweatpants. 

Looking down, you realized his neck lay open…exposed. As if in a trance, you dipped your head, lips making contact with his soft skin.

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thank you for reading!

- bambi <3

[usetheeauthor]

COMING SOON WIP⚠️

Planning to write for Cooper Howard because he’s my current hyperfixation whom I cannot for the life of me get out of my head and need to write for him or I won’t ever be able to write for any other characters I love or have WIPs for. So this came to me inspired by the 2009 movie Chloe starring Amanda Seyfried, Julianne Moore, and Liam Neeson and the Manhwa “The Emporer Is Hard To Please” By Jeongha but of course it’s my own spin on these tales. This is going to be filled with angsty drama, tension, lots of pearl-clutching smut, and twists. P*rn with heavy plot. Barb is just as much a character in this because she’s a fucking babe.

This is only a draft but here’s what I have in store so far!! Lemme know what yall think 😬

…..

Mr. Howard’s So Damn Hard To Tease (MDNI+18)

Pre-War!Cooper Howard x Virgin!Fem!Reader, One-Sided Barb Howard x Fem!Reader

Summary: Barb Howard hires you to seduce her estranged husband, Cooper Howard, because —despite their separation—she wants him to have that fire in him that he’s losing throughout the ugly divorce process. In exchange for any success with bringing him out of his funk, Barb promises you an acting gig; something you’ve fought tooth and nail to obtain. Unfortunately…Cooper proves to be a lot harder to tempt than you could have ever imagined.

Warnings below the cut ⚠️

Tags/TW: Age Gap (Older Man, Younger Woman), Acting Teacher x Student, Sugar Daddy!Cooper, Sugar Mama!Barb, HEAVY SMUT, HEAVY ANGST, Dark!Yandere!Reader, Bondage/Toys, Daddy Kink, Innocence/Corruption Kink, Sub!Reader/SoftDom!Cooper, Loss Of Virginity (Bloody), Spit Kink, Degradation Kink, Mentions of Erectile Dysfunction due to declining mental health, mental Dacryphilia, Scratching, Biting, Hair-Pulling, Stockings/Socks Kink, Choking, Wrist Watch Kink, Big Dick!Cooper, Unprotected sex (p in v), Anal play, Nipple Play, BDSM (Master Kink), Pet names (Bunny), Teasing!Mean!Reader, SoftCore-PS!Reader, Oral sex (m and f receiving), Creampie, Breeding Kink, Reader has tragic backstory, Mommy/Daddy Issues, One-sided feelings (Barb x Reader), kissing including (girl on girl), Public Sex, Spanking, Fingering, doggystyle, mating press, full nelson, missionary, cooper is a freaakk, voyuerism/cucking (Barb sees a vid of a steamy sesh with you and Coop), masturbation (m and f), no good people in here except for maybe Cooper, Some Violent Situations, Fallout Lore-Divergent but with some elements of Lore and much more!

[thesassypadawan]

Training Day (Qui-Gon x FemPadawanReader)

Summary: Training Day, that special time of the week when you and your master work your body…mold it…teach it to take his colossal cock.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Size training and…Qui-Gon’s fat dick. Padawan reader is of age.

- “Remember. Concentrate on the moment. Feel. Don’t think,” Qui-Gon mutters. One big hand lovingly tucking your braid behind your ear. The other gripping your waist possessively.

- “Yes, master,” you whimper. Beads of sweat trickling down your neck, your back. Straddling his wide lap, fat tip wedged tightly in your sopping cunt.

- A warm smile spreads across his face, blue eyes hungrily sweeping over your trembling form. “Good. Shall we continue your ‘training’ then, padawan of mine?”

- Nodding, you take in a shaky breath as you slowly start to sink down on his cock. Soft, desperate mewls falling from your lips; tears already stinging at the corners of your eyes. Despite only having taken half of him. “It-it’s too m-much… I-I can’t…”

- Long fingers rub soothing circles into your sides. Trying to relax you, coax you on. “You can… Doing so well… Keep it up…”

- With a weak sob, you continue. Gummy walls clenching, fluttering from the feeling of his impressive length scraping your insides…of him splitting you open. “M-Master…”

- “Almost there,” Qui coos. His words gentle and caring, but his actions… Hips buck upwards, forcing those last, girthy inches into you. Burying himself to the hilt, filling you to the absolute brim. “Per…fect.”

- Tipping your head back, you cry out. Pussy spasming; struggling to adjust to that burning ache, to being stretched beyond your limits. Tears now flow freely; rolling down your cheeks, onto your heaving breasts. “B-big…h-hurts.”

- “Ssh, it’s all right.” Lips press against yours, in the crook of your neck. Trailing to your jaw, kissing tenderly while he slowly ruts. Pulling out, then driving deeper with each thrust. “You’ll come to love it soon enough.”

- Placing his other hand on your waist, Qui-Gon quickens his pace. Guiding your movements, molding you…breaking you in. And all you can manage to do is hold on, nails scratching at his toned back…babbling incoherently.

- “Such a good girl,” he grunts. Slamming into you brutally; bullying and bruising your cervix repeatedly. Teeth nipping, marking up your sensitive skin. “So small…so tiny.”

- You’re so close, so embarrassingly close. The delicious mix of pain and pleasure has you reeling, your mind growing hazy. Begging for… “Nnghh! P-please just…please j-just make me…c-cum!”

- “Anything for you, little one.” His fingers find your clit, toying with and rolling it. Pinching so hard that your vision goes white, whole body tensing around him. Juices gushing out, coating him in your sticky mess. As you come completely and utterly undone.

- “Excellent,” Qui praises, whispering affectionately in your ear. “You did such a wonderful job. Now…”

- Before you know what’s happening, you’re suddenly pushed back onto the sleep couch. Your legs hooked over his broad shoulders, his hand caressing the bulge protruding from your stomach. “…let’s try learning another ‘form’.”

Tag List: @liam-neesons-best-girl

[chaosandorder46]

Master fic list

I decided it was time to make a master list. 🤷‍♀️

Witcher

Tissaia/Yennefer centric

1. I’m OK, You’re OK (6108 words; uni AU)- Tissaia's anxiety is not under control. Yennefer totally gets it, and Triss is a therapist, because of course, she is.

2. And Then There Were Three (26,290 words; domestic fluff)-Tissaia and Yennefer are happily married, and want a child to complete their family. The process won't be easy, but they have each other and their ride or die friend group. Some fluff, some angst, and shenanigans arise on their journey.

3. Self Control (1,149 words; fluff and smut)- Dr. Tissaia de Vries has legendary self control. Unless Yennefer of Vengerberg is in the room.

4. Come to my Office, Please (3,123 words; Eventual smut)-A private message gets sent to the entire group and puts a series of events into action.

5. Stars Fell on Aretuza (1,210 words; hurt/comfort)-It's the first Ascension Ball since the Thanedd Coup, and the first in decades not coordinated by Tissaia de Vries.

6. You Mistake the Stars (31,647 words; whump)- Yennefer saw Vilgefortz as a way to get off of the pig farm, but ended up in a worse situation. When she casts an errant portal and ends up on the Isle of Thanedd, she meets a cast of characters that will change her life.

7. Such a Good Turkey (2,606 words, crack fic)- It's close to Thanksiving on The Continent and no one has any chill.

8. I Might Love You More than Coffee (46,484 words; fluff)- Yennefer is intrigued by a mysterious new regular at her coffee shop, The Lodge. I'm no barista, so I'm relying on my extensive coffee consumption experience for the details on this one.

9. Le Tits Now! (3,939 words; crack fic)-It's the holiday season and everyone is in various states of festiveness. Shenanigans to follow...

10. And I Swear My Breath Turned Silver the Day Your Hair Did (4,942 words; angst with a happy ending)-I've never really written a real fix it for the Thanedd Coup before. I pretty much just ignore it by writing modern AUs or insinuate that everything turned out ok.

This is a somewhat canon compliant (until it's not) fix it for the Thanedd Coup fall out. I've had it in progress for a while and seem to be having trouble working on my other fic until this one is done.

11. What’s Lost is not Lost…Keep Looking! (1,380 words; crack fic)-Ciri's beloved stuffy is missing. Tissaia and Yen are ready to go all Liam Neeson from Taken, but the answer may be closer than they think.

12. Now the Air I Tasted and Breathed (Has Taken a Turn) (WIP; angst with a happy ending)-Ok, so....remember the musical episode of Grey's Anatomy (Song beneath the song)? Um...this is the Witcher version of that. Kind of, though (in my imagination) the characters aren't singing, it's just a montage of scenes with the song playing. If you aren't familiar with Black by Pearl Jam, listening is a good pre-reading activity. :)

13. How did we get THIS way? (3,933 words; crack treated seriously) - An alternate version of Rinde if Tissaia had shown up a bit later. OR...Tissaia de Vries accidentally crashes an orgy.

14. Nothing Sweeter Than a Bitter Cup of Coffee (13,681 words; light angst and crack)-More coffee shop shenanigans ensue when Rita shares some news with Tissaia.

15. More Indelible than Ink (WIP, fluff)- Tissaia is the proprietor of deVries Ink and Paper Shop and leads a very quiet, normal life...that is until a stunning raven-haired tattoo artist walks into her store.

Sabrina/Triss centric

1. The Kids are Alright (5,399 words; mutual pining)-Sabrina breaks her arm badly teaching novices non-magical self defense. Rita and Triss help her and Triss uses her chaos. The healer becomes the patient and Rita is sick of their shit.

2. Downtime (1,034 words, PWP?)- Sabrina's office has a network downtime and she needs something (or someone) to do.

3. What We Lost at Sodden (8,858 words; hurt/comfort)- This is another Sodden Hill story with a focus on Sabrina and Rita's experiences. I feel like Sabrina was too OK, too soon after Sodden, and I would love to have seen more of Rita's experience being charged with holding down the fort, knowing her friends were fighting for, and losing their lives.

4. The Things I Regret (2,036 words; hurt/comfort)- Written on the the one year anniversary of my mom's death. We had a very complicated relationship and I've been surprised at how I've felt since she died, vs. how I thought I would feel. I also had lunch recently with a friend who has gone no-contact with her mother due to her refusal to acknowledge her childhood trauma. These human experiences are always so interesting to me...if a bit painful. So, why not write about it? 😁

So, once again poor Sabrina gets to be a stand in for therapy. I mainly chose her because of her conduit moment, we know she has some issues there. 😁

5. Put Out the Fire in Your Head and Lay With Me Tonight (2,226 words; fluff and smut)-Sabrina is exhausted and stressed. Triss helps her relax. This is all fluff with a little bit of smut and nearly no plot. Just like I like to write. 😈😍

6. Burnout (10,501 words; hurt/comfort)-Sabrina is burnt out and coping as only Sabrina can, which is to say, not at all.

7. Aretuza (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair) (1,465 words; tooth rotting fluff)- This is a snapshot of an Aretuza where they all live happily ever after, even if the novices are a bit ...incapable.

8. The world was on fire (and no one could save me but you) (22,760 words; angst with a happy ending)-IMO, this is the angstiest thing I've written, so be warned. None of the major characters die (I could never) but there is some death.

9. The 14th on the Hill (8,985 words; angst with a happy ending)-Another spin on Sodden, but this one pulls from book lore as well as Netflix lore and HCs.

Group shenanigans

1. Icks (1,116 words; crack fic)-Tissaia learns a new term. Everyone shares an ick in their relationship.

2. Triss’s Greenhouse (429 words; crack fic) -Tissaia needs to relax and Triss has something for that.

3. Beige Flags (770 words; crack fic)-Tissaia is slowly learning tik tok. She needs an explanation of beige flags.

4. Another Fic Where Triss is Stoned, but with Pokemon (965 words; crack fic)- This is a crack fic, but based on a real life conversation. No need to take this seriously. :) This is based on a video game called pal world That is essentially a rip off of pokémon... And they have guns.

5. Hanging Around (5,593 words, crack treated seriously)- Ok. I was inadvertently sent on a side quest to tell an important, and very serious story. It is based on the delightful video below which gave me several much needed laughs. This is set in the AUMC universe where Tissaia is a pathologist, Yennefer and Rita work in the hospitals PR department, Triss is a nurse and married to Sabrina, who manages the lab. The slides in question are stained blood and bone marrow which are used to microscopically diagnose blood disorders, such as leukemia. I think that is all the pre-reading needed.🤭

6. After Sodden (29,044 words; modern AU; slow burn?)- Ciri is an environmental activist, but accidentally commits a bit of eco-terrorism. She's now a fugitive and turns to Yennefer for help.This was inspired by a Tumblr prompt...I have taken a LOT of creative liberties here. (Read: I don't follow instructions well).

Wheel of Time

• I (Critically) Care A Lot (7,677 words; Hospital AU)- Moraine and Siuan have a tense working relationship. Or do they?

• You’re Going to Make Me…Late (8,493 words; hospital AU)-Siuan applies for a new job.

• I’d walk to the depths of a world down below (and demand to get back what some circumstance stole) (1,867 words; crack)-Siuan is dead, like...dead dead. And Moiraine has to go to The Underworld to get her back.

[liam-neesons-best-girl]

The Orange Peel Test with him . . .

Summary: How different Liam Neeson characters would respond to the orange peel test with their partner.

ICYMI: The orange peel test is a trend circulating that poses the scenario for one partner to present the other with an orange and no context or instructions. If they peel it, their love is "for real" lol

Pairings: Qui-Gon Jinn x reader, Bryan Mills x reader, Hannibal x reader

Warnings: f!reader, drabble, they all pass the test, light kissing

Bryan Mills (Taken)

he is always happy when you want to cook with him or vise versa

the orange in your hand doesn't really pair well with the lasagna he is making but he brushes it off, just focusing on the task at hand to not cut his fingers

you take off your shoes, coat, and purse, placing the orange on the counter with your belongs before you scoot off to the restroom to change out of your work clothes and get washed up to help prep dinner

he thinks for a minute and decides to stop his work and peel the orange for you, also getting you a glass of water and a small bowl of mixed nuts, the perfect post-work pre-dinner snack

he also sneaks some nuts for himself (he loves almonds)

when you return to the kitchen he smiles and starts asking about your day

you sit on the bar stool in front of him and notice the snack and water that wasn't there 5 minutes ago

"for me?" you question

"for you" he says with a slight grin, thinking nothing of it

you can't believe how lucky you are to have a man who doesn't need step by step instructions to be thoughtful or affectionate

"can you put down the knife" you ask, rounding the counter to be by his side

he does so and you give him the tightest hug

you stay like that for a while because he is never the one to pull back from a hug first

Hannibal (A-Team)

you meet up with him in his make shift barracks, which is really a tent on desert terrain but at least it is some privacy for the two of you, away from his team

he greets you with a hug and a cocked brow when he sees the picnic basket you've placed on his bed

"what did you pack?" he asks, placing the basket on his lap to make room for the two of you to sit and go through the contents of the basket

he pulls out some meaty sandwiches you made for him, since you aren't too big a fan of deli products, miscellaneous fruits including oranges, and two cans of sparkling water to quench the thirst

ever the show off he declares a challenge

"you know I can peel these in one piece" he says pointing to the orange you just picked up to eat

"I'll believe it when I see it" you egg him on

you know this is just a rouse for him to peel it for you and not get any juices on your pretty dress or have to lift a single finger when around your strong boyfriend

he also feels indebt to you for making him such a lovely, impromptu lunch date

you were impressed to see he wasn't just blowing smoke and was actually able to peel it in one piece

watching his skilled hands be so delicate to such a fragile fruit was relaxing, and (not going to lie) a bit of a turn on

he hands you back the orange ready to eat and you, so cheeky, squeeze one of the wedges at him to splash him with the citrus's juice

with a mouth full of his sandwich he retorts, "I'll get you back when you least expect it, doll"

Qui-Gon (Star Wars)

he found you under and orange tree reading your book of poetry, enjoying the chirping birds and soft wind dancing on your hair

laying down by your side you extended your legs, an open invitation for him to rest his head on your lap as you read aloud to him

after a short time your belly began to growl, alerting him to your hunger

You lean up and say, "I'll just grab a ripe orange"

but he stops you, gently laying you back down against the tree and reaches up to grab the juiciest looking one

"let me feed you, my love" he'll say, not only peeling the orange for you but then ripping a part the wedges to feed you piece by piece

he kisses you in between bites, tasting the sweet citrus on your tongue

[spaceventurer]

Hungry - Qui-Gon Jinn steamy blurb.

Pairing: Qui-Gon Jinn x padawan!Reader

Summary: You wake up and walk in to Qui-Gon making breakfast for you, if only you'd realise what you're wearing...

Content/Warnings: Fluff and suggestive content. 18+.

Words: 262

Requested: No

While stretching out your arms above your head, you let out a deep sigh. You rub your eyes and walk out of your room.

“Good morning. I made some breakfast if you’re hungry?” Qui-Gon says with a pan containing scrambled eggs in his right hand and a brown spatula in the other. You smile thankfully at him and he puts the eggs on a sandwich which he then puts on a plate. He hands the meal over to you and his fingers brush lightly over yours, which causes you to have a fizzy feeling.

“Thanks Qui-Gon,” you say while grabbing a fork to eat. You lean on the counter and begin a small talk with your master. Just about the usual stuff, you know, the past missions and the upcoming ones.The conversation slowly starts to die but then master Jinn says,

“Darling, I think you should know you look amazing.” Qui-Gon smirks as he looks you up and down. And it’s at that moment you realise what you’re wearing, just his t-shirt with nothing underneath it. A cold shiver makes its way up to your body at his interested eyes that scan all over your body now, leaving no part unseen. Feeling the heat rise to your cheeks you almost choke on your food in embarrassment.

“Now don’t choke on that. However I do know something else you may choke on..” He licks his lips. Okay now you’re really- really hot. A small gasp leaves your mouth as he starts cupping your cheeks and looking from your eyes to your lips…

[shitpostingfromthebarricade]

[esmericks]

REQUESTS AND WRITINGS

Hey! Welcome to my blog, I just wanted to post a list of all the celebrity characters I write for. I just wanted to inform you all that I will most definitely be taking in requests for any character played by a celeb on this list, as well as any type of prompt (fluff, angst, smut...). I also wanted to add that sadly I will only be writing for female readers as I am one myself and wouldn't want to misinterpret any feelings or situations that a male or non- binary person would feel. 

(Just to be clear this a list of actors but I will only be writing for any character played by said celebs, not the actual person as I find that kind of wierd. xx)

PS: Some names will be in all caps and that means that I am currently in a period where I am really motivated or interested to write for this particular person, these will change over time. 

A

Adam Driver 

ALAN RICKMAN

Alicia Vikander 

Amandla Stemberg 

Ana De Armas

ANDREW GARFIELD

Andy Samberg 

Angelina Jolie 

ANGUS CLOUD

Annabelle Wallis 

Anne Hathaway 

Anya Taylor-Joy 

B

Benedict Cumberbatch

Bradley Cooper 

Brie Larson

C

Camille Cottin 

Cara Delevigne 

CATE BLANCHETT

Cher

Chris Evans 

Chris Hemsworth 

Chris O’Dowd 

Ciaran Hinds 

Cillian Murphy 

Cobie Smulders

Colin Farell 

D

Dakota Johnson 

Daniel Craig 

David Harbour

David Tennant 

David Thewlis 

Dylan O’Brian 

E

Eddie Redmayne 

Elle Fanning

Elizabeth Debiki 

Elizabeth Olsen

Emilia Clarke 

Emily Blunt 

Emma Mackey 

Emma Roberts

Emma Stone 

Emma Watson 

Emmy Rossum

Esther Acebo 

Eva Green 

Evan Peters 

Ewan McGregor 

Ezra Millers

F

Finn Wolfhard 

Florence Pugh 

G

Gal Gadot 

Gillian Anderson 

Gwendoline Christie 

H

Harry Styles 

Henry Golding 

I 

Ian Glen 

Idris Elba 

Itziar Ituno 

J

James McAvoy 

Jason Momoa

Javier Bardem  

Jemima Kirke 

Jennifer Connelly 

Jennifer Lawrence 

Jessica Chastain 

Jessica Lange

Jimmy Smits 

John Krasinski 

Johnny Depp

Jude Law 

K

Kate Winslet 

Kaya Scodelario

Keanu Reeves 

Kiera Knightley 

Kit Harrington 

Kristen Stewart 

L

Lady Gaga 

Lea Seydoux 

Lena Headey 

Liam Neeson 

Lily Rabe 

Lily - Rose Depp 

Liza Weil 

Louis Garrel

Luke Evans 

M

Mads Mikkelson 

Maisie Williams 

Marion Cotillard 

Margot Robbie 

Mark Ruffalo 

Mathew McConaughey 

Maude Apatow 

Megan Fox 

Meryl Streep 

Micheal Fassbender 

Mikael Persbrandt 

Mila Kunis 

Millie Bobby Brown 

N

Natalia Tena 

Natalie Portman 

P

Paul Bettany

PEDRO PASCAL 

Penelope Cruz 

Pheobe Dyevnor

Pheobe Waller Bridge 

R

Rachel McAdams 

Rachel Weiz 

Ralph Fiennes 

Rebecca Ferguson 

Richard Madden 

Rihanna 

Robert Downey Jr

Rooney Mara 

Rory McCann 

Rose Byrne 

S 

Sacha Baron Cohen

Sadie Sink 

Sam Claflin 

Sandra Bullock 

Saoirse Ronan 

SARAH PAULSON

Scarlett Johansson 

Sebastian Stan 

Sophie Turner 

Stephanie Beatriz 

Sterling K Brown 

Sydney Sweeney 

T

Taissa Farmiga 

Timothee Chalamet 

Thomas Brodie - Sangster 

Thomasin McKenzie 

Tom Felton 

Tom Hanks 

Tom Hardy 

Tom Hiddleston 

Ty Burrell 

U

Ursula Corbero 

V 

Vanessa Kirby 

VERA FARMIGA

Victoria Pedretti 

W

Willow Smith 

Winona Ryder

Z

Zendaya

Zoe Kravitz 

Zoe Saldana

If there is an actor/ character that is not on this list that you would like to request please do, and I will see if I will write for them xx

- Lots of love 

[shina913]

Gradation, Part 6.25 | JJK

Gradation, Part 6.25 (Drabble)

gra·​da·​tion | \ grā-ˈdā-shən , grə- \

✮ ✮ ✮ Gradation Masterlist ✮ ✮ ✮

Featuring: PJM & KTH

Rating: M (🔞);

Genre: BF2L; slow burn; fluff; angst; smut

Word count: 1.9K+ words

Warnings: Excessive cussing; some alcohol consumption; just some fun banter

Summary: The soulmates are having a spirited exchange about their friends, Jungkook and YN. The events occur before and after scenes in Part 6.

A/N: Just a side plot that I came up with to indulge a special request. I love these two so much and had a lot of fun writing it.

Also, thank you for all the love you’ve shown for Gradation! I'm open to questions and would love to hear what you all think of the published chapters so far.

Jimin groaned. His phone has been chiming nonstop for most of the afternoon and into the early evening.

“You’ve got the hotline tonight, huh?” Taehyung called out from the couch while he watched a comedy show and munched on popcorn.

“Not what you think,” Jimin frustratingly answered as he typed a text back.

“Thought you had a match the other day?”

“I did but this is not her,” he said, finally picking up both beers that he had sitting on the counter for a few minutes then walked towards the sofa.

“Is it your mom?”

He scoffed. “You’d think it was with the way she’s on my ass. It’s YN.”

“YN? Why? What’s up with her?”

He exhales sharply while he sets the second can in front of Taehyung before he settles on the sofa and takes a sip of his beer as his phone pings again.

“She’s asking me to convince Jungkookie to hang out—but like…as ‘her’.”

Swallowing his first sip, Taehyung scrunched up his face in confusion. “Say that again?”

Jimin looked up from his phone. “She wants me to lie to Jungkookie so that she can come see him.”

“Why wouldn’t she just show up at his door and kick it down? You know she would,” he suggested while stuffing a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

Jimin shook his head and looked back down at his phone screen typing up a response. “I don’t know. They’ve both been acting really weird lately.”

“Psh. Don’t I know it,” Taehyung comments as he sits up to pick up his beer again to take a gulp.

Jimin narrowed his eyes and gave him a look. “What do you know?”

He sighed at the feel of the carbonated alcohol going down his throat. “I know plenty.”

“Which means you don’t know jack-shit.” His roommate chuckled lightly.

He looks at Jimin, annoyed. “Why do you always have to be rude like that?”

“Okay. Hear me out.” He yanks the bowl of popcorn from Taehyung to get a handful of popcorn as he prepares his argument.

“I’ve just never seen them like this before. We’ve seen them bicker, cuss each other out. They have their little one- to two-day cold war then afterwards, they always make up and everything’s back to normal like nothing ever happened,” he said, shoving some popcorn in his mouth.

“And this is different because?”

“JK is not one to hide. And YN? Well…when it comes to him—let’s just say that that Liam Neeson meme where he’s on the phone threatening to find whoever person was on the other line—that was based on her except without the killing part. But for some reason, this time—she’s just letting him be.”

He leans back and lets Jimin’s thoughts sink in.

“It’s like you said. She can just show up and kick his door down and make him talk—but she’s not. I dunno. It just all feels off to me,” Jimin continued.

“When did this start,” Taehyung asked.

“Uh…hold on—“ he scrolls furiously through the top thread of your text exchange. “Sunday last week,” he said.

“What did they do before that?”

“They went to that party at The Hills.”

“Ohh! JK’s hedge fund guy! I helped YN pick out her outfit for the party. I almost forgot,” Taehyung says.

“Jungkookie has been blabbing about that new contract since he scored it. It’s the one that got him the bonus before he went to Hawaii.”

“Hawaii…” Taehyung repeated slowly. “You know…he did seem kind of different when he got back from Hawaii.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow. “Just him?”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t think YN was a little different?”

Taehyung twisted his face. “I don’t think so. She’s had a rough couple months. Maybe the island vacation was exactly what she needed to help her heal.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“Wait, what are you insinuating?”

Jimin sits with a devilish grin.

Taehyung throws his hand up in annoyance. “Fuck, just spit it out!”

“I think something went down in Hawaii,” Jimin says, as he took a big gulp of his beer.

Just as Taehyung gives a skeptical look at first then his facial expression changes to a look of realization when he thinks back on their little exchange during your moving day.

But he stops short and refuses to say it out loud.

“Jiminie, I…I don’t know. They’ve told us they would never do that. They’ve practically seen each other in diapers!”

“Exactly! There’s a level of comfort there.”

“But still—it doesn’t make sense…”

“It makes perfect sense!” Jimin exclaimed.

Taehyung shook his head. “Okay look—we’ve known them…what? Eight-ish years? We’ve hung out a ton of times…gone on vacations with them when they were both single. There was absolutely no hint there. Like…dead in the water.”

Jimin listens intently to Taehyung's argument.

“We’ve seen them date other people, we saw the Lisa phase, the Derek phase—she got engaged and he even helped him pick out the ring!”

Jimin makes a sour face. “There is no fucking way JK helped pick out that ring!”

“Not the point, Chim! I’m just saying that for all the years that we’ve known them, why now? They could have literally just dated from the get-go. Shit, I asked YN out, remember that?”

He snorted. “Yeah! Did you have to corner her in the carnival jail booth though?”

“Whatever, dude. It still fucking worked! She and Jungkookie were basically inseparable freshman year. I needed a diversion!”

“That still doesn’t prove your point though. You and YN didn’t end up together.”

“But I gained a lifelong friend, didn’t I,” he said, leaning back into the couch and resting his heels against the coffee table.

Jimin tilts his head to the side and puts his hand to his chest. “Aww, thanks, man—That’s so sweet of you to say!”

“Sure, I guess that applies to you, too,” he says sarcastically.

Jimin laughs as he takes another sip of his beer.

“My point is…it’s entirely possible for two people—from the opposite sex—to just be friends and nothing more.”

“Hmm. I guess,” he shrugged his shoulders.

They sit in silence. Taehyung, cradling the bowl of popcorn, crunching away while he watched TV.

“You’re not gonna let this one go, are you?”

“Nope!” Jimin instantaneously answers, keeping his eyes at the TV.

A few days later…

Jimin and Taehyung return to their apartment after a night at the museum.

Taehyung wanted to stop by a drive-thru on the way home to grab food but Jimin reminded him that his mom just dropped off a few pounds of pa kimchi the other day.

That on the side of a couple of packets of ramyeon—better than any fast food dollar taco.

“Interesting night,” he remarked as he waited for the water to boil.

“Yeah,” Jimin groaned as he stepped out of the bathroom, barefaced and showered.

He reaches into the fridge and grabs one of the tupperwares that his mom dropped off to make a pre-dinner snack for himself.

“Noodles will be ready in a few.”

“That’s fine. I’ll just munch on this while I wait,” he says as he slurped some pa kimchi.

“I don’t know what’s up with these events and small plates. It’s like the fancier it is, the smaller the portions are,” he comments while he chews.

“Nope. That won’t do it for us,” Taehyung says while he stirs the noodles around, making sure to soak it all in boiling water.

“So…what do you think of Jin-hyung?”

He chuckles lightly while he takes another bite. “Is that what we’re calling him now?”

Taehyung gives him an incredulous look. “Out of respect, yeah.”

Jimin hummed.

“What? What’s that tone?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing. I was just glad to see YN happy tonight.”

“She did have a different glow to her.”

“Yeah. It’s definitely a breath of fresh air considering we’ve seen the opposite side of that coin.”

Taehyung nodded. “You think Jin-hyung had something to do with that?”

“Maybe…Did you talk to Jungkookie,” Jimin quips.

“Yeah. Guess he and YN seemed to have patched up whatever disagreement they had last time–thanks to your special role.”

Jimin chuckled.

There was a few seconds of silence between the two as Jimin lifted the container’s lid to put another serving of kimchi on his plate.

“Are you still clinging on to your theory about Hawaii,” Taehyung asked.

Jimin scrunched his face. “Eh—I don’t know now. Seeing her with Jin-hyung—“

Taehyung’s head snaps up.

“I’m being respectful,” he says, holding a hand up in the air.

“Anyway—if anything happened between YN and Jungkookie, I would think that they would have just jumped right into it. Like…why would she start dating somebody else?”

Taehyung stands behind the stove, frozen, as realization sets in. The water starts to boil over into the burner and Jimin quickly jumps up to turn the stove off.

“Dude, what the fuck! Don’t burn our place down,” he exclaims as he moves the pot away from the heat.

Taehyung’s jaw drops. “Holy shit—they fucked!”

“What?”

Taehyung turned to him and slowly repeated his last words while gesturing with his hands.

“They. Fucked.”

“And tell me how you came to that conclusion, genius?”

“My theory is that something went down either between Hawaii or after they got back—and then Jin-hyung somehow jumped into the picture—I assume, at that party. And you know how Jungkookie likes to stew when it comes to YN. She intimidates him. He had an opening but he didn’t take it. So YN, being the good friend goes—Okay well, our friendship is super important—so that’s why she runs into Jin’s arms instead.”

Jimin’s eyes bulge. “That…does not make any sense at all. Why would they risk their friendship like that?”

“Hell if I know. I’m just saying…they totally did it.”

Taehyung proceeds to take the pot back to drain the noodles while reaching for the seasoning packets.

Jimin stood there trying to form his own theory. “Maybe JK is just simping again. I caught him brooding at the event. Remember that whole thing when she and Derek first got together? He didn’t do anything then and he got over it. Or–it could have been Lisa!”

“Lisa–” Taehyung blew out a breath. “I’m sure he was having a very rough night. But I don’t think it was Lisa.”

“Why? If he’s not just simping, what’s different now?”

“The difference now is that they fucked! My best guess is that they probably had a secret deal and then JK got complacent until his chance slipped away.”

After mixing the seasoning in, Taehyung portioned the noodles between two bowls that he retrieved while Jimin tried to justify things.

“I don’t know. Maybe I believed that before but—“ Jimin paused then changed his tone suddenly.

“I’m just wondering—why wouldn’t she give Jungkookie a chance? Why risk it with someone like Jin—whom, no offense, seems like a stand-up guy–but she barely knows him,” he thought out loud.

“Because he probably chickened out,” Taehyung says as he pauses filling a plate with kimchi.

“Jeon Jungkook? A chicken?” Jimin asked incredulously. “That’s a first!”

“It is when it comes to YN,” Taehyung says as they both settle into their dining table.

They both eat in silence for a minute. Utensils clicking against their bowls was the only sound filling the room.

“You could be right,” Jimin says, still with a hint of skepticism.

“Not could—I know I’m right,” Taehyung finishes.

◤Previous | Part 6.5 (JJKxLisa)◥ | Main Fic Masterlist

Tag list: @deepseavibez @bts-fic-recs-mess @mwitsmejk @jamlessstars @xhazmania @xiaoren001 @dianaxnyc

[kmomof4]

In the Viper’s Den- A New CS Fic for the @cshistfic event

It’s not midnight for me yet, so I’m still making my posting date, y’all!!! Yay me!!! 

I am sooooo excited to finally share In the Viper’s Den with you all! This fic has been on my mind for about seven months and when @shireness-says​ announced the @cshistfic​ event, I knew I had to participate!! All the love and thanks to her for this FABULOUS idea!!! All the fics have been absolutely wonderful and you can find them all here! Be sure and give everyone all the love for their hard work!!!

And now on to my fic! This was inspired by the WWII spy movie Shining Through, starring Melanie Griffith, Michael Douglas, and Liam Neeson. It follows the movie closely, though not completely, so if you know it, you’ll no doubt recognize some of the scenes.

Before we get to the fic itself, I have to thank my crew, without whom this wouldn’t have been possible. @hollyethecurious​, @profdanglaisstuff​, and @jrob64​ are the most kick-ass betas, encouragers, and brainstormers around and I am deeply in their debt. Thank you all so much, ladies!!! Also to the ladies of the @captainswanmoviemarathon​ and @cshistfic​ discords for their encouragement, excitement, and sprinting dates with me! To @thisonesatellite​​ for putting up with me pestering her about the German in the fic as well as her help with naming some of the characters. All the translations are thanks to her because she is the BEST!!!! And last, but certainly not least, to @spartanguard​​ for all her work in doing manips for the artwork I made for this fic. Don’t Emma and Killian look great? Well, just wait until see next week’s artwork!!! I am OVER THE MOON with her work for that and I can’t wait to share it with you!!!

The fic is complete in two parts. Part two will post next Saturday, Oct. 2. I hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think!!!

Summary: Emma Nolan, age 22, goes to work for attorney Killian Jones in the fall of 1940. Over the next year, she comes to believe her boss is a spy, only to have her suspicions confirmed when the Japanese bomb Pearl Harbor. When a German spy working for Killian turns up dead, Emma kisses her lover goodbye and attempts to continue his work of finding and stopping the development of a flying bomb that could spell disaster for the Allied forces.

Rating: M (smut and violence)

Words: Almost 9500 of approx. 23,500.

Tags: WWII, Spies, Inspired by Shining Through, Workplace Romance, Smut

On ao3

Tagging the usuals: Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

@hollyethecurious​​ @winterbaby89​​ @snowbellewells​​ @stahlop​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​ @jennjenn615​​ @kingofmyheart14 @profdanglaisstuff​​ @branlovestowrite​​ @thisonesatellite​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​ @flslp87​​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​​ @let-it-raines​​ @shireness-says​​ @kymbersmith-90​​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​​ @bethacaciakay​​ @searchingwardrobes​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​ @teamhook​​ @aprilqueen84​​ @qualitycoffeethings​​ @superchocovian​​ @artistic-writer​​ @donteattheappleshook​​ @doodlelolly0910​​ @seriouslyhooked​​ @tiganasummertree​​ @lfh1226-linda​​ @xsajx​​ @klynn-stormz​​ @jrob64���​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​​ @zaharadessert​​ @elizabeethan​​ @xhookswenchx​​ @gingerpolyglot​​ @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​​ @sailtoafarawayland​​ @justanother-unluckysoul​​ @veryverynotgoodwrites​​ @jonesfandomfanatic​​ @deckerstarblanche​​ @the-darkdragonfly​​ @batana54​​ @purplehawkcaptain​​ @k-leemac​​ @motherkatereloyshipper​​ @apiratewhopines​​

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

New York City 1940

Emma Nolan looked up at the imposing edifice of the building across the busy street from where she was standing. It was only five stories, but the stone facade that housed the law firm where she was seeking employment sent a tremor down her spine regardless. Born and raised in Queens, she’d never been to Manhattan before and the amount of people, automobiles, and tall buildings surrounding her were more than a little intimidating.

As she made her way across the street, a man standing atop a small ladder on the sidewalk in front of her destination drew her attention. He was shouting at anyone who would listen, making his case for the United States to stay out of the European war. She stood on the steps of the building and listened for a few minutes to him spewing all kinds of hateful rhetoric against President Roosevelt and insisting that Europe’s problems were not America’s. His words made her a little sick to her stomach.

Suddenly, right behind the speaker, a car came to an abrupt stop and a tall, very handsome man stepped out of the back. He wore a blue suit under his gray overcoat and moved with a bearing that commanded attention. His jaw was covered by dark scruff, just a bit lighter than the raven hair peeking out from under the fedora he wore. The speaker continued, drawing the man’s attention. After listening for just a moment, he approached the man on the ladder, climbed up next to him and whispered in his ear. Pulling back from the man, he fixed him with a hard stare that made Emma’s heart rate kick up a notch. He returned to the sidewalk and made his way to the stairs where Emma still stood, utterly transfixed watching the exchange between the two men. The speaker looked thoroughly abashed, but more than a little angry as he climbed down his ladder, folded it up, and walked away. The man stood on the step with Emma watching the speaker leave before he looked directly at her and tipped his hat politely. She had never seen eyes so blue and she couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped her lips.

Little did she know that she’d just laid eyes on the man that would change her life.

~*~*~

Emma sat, as still and as straight as possible, in front of the woman who held her fate in her hands. She was the kind of woman Emma had had dealings with before, the kind that looked down on anyone and everyone deemed lesser than themselves. When she took Emma’s resumé, the woman looked down her nose as her eyes swept from Emma’s head to her feet and back up again. She introduced herself as Katherine King before settling behind her desk and motioning for Emma to take a seat.

She tried desperately to control her fidgeting, not wanting to appear overly nervous as Katherine read over her resumé, cutting her eyes toward her occasionally with a condescending smile touching her lips. The wait seemed to go on forever before she finally laid the paper down, folded her hands in front of her, and spoke.

“Miss Nolan. After looking over your resumé,” the condescension in her voice and bearing turned into pity and Emma saw red, “I’m afraid I cannot allow you to continue in your delusions of grandeur.” Emma’s jaw dropped. “I’m sure your typing skills are excellent, but a degree from Queens Clerical College is a bit beneath our standards.” The haughty expression was back in full force. “Our legal secretaries come to us directly from Vassar. I’m sure you understand. So unless you have something to add to change my mind, I’m afraid I can’t…”

“Lower your standards?” Emma interrupted. Katherine looked down her nose at Emma again and nodded. “I wouldn’t want you to. You might have to work with someone who’s had to get her hands dirty, and I’m sure that would be very uncomfortable for you and the girls from Vassar.” Katherine’s expression looked like she’d just bitten into something decidedly unpleasant, and Emma couldn’t help the surge of satisfaction that washed over her as she stood. “I went to Vassar, by the way.” Katherine looked back at her, raising her eyebrows in question. “My uncle’s car broke down right in front of the front gate and I had to pick him up. Place looked like a real shit hole to me.” Emma smiled sweetly before she added, “Thank you very much,” and turned from the odious woman.

Just as she was leaving Katherine’s office, a cleaning lady on the other side of the lobby bumped into a water cooler, sending it crashing to the floor. Water was everywhere, including on the other ladies waiting for their chance to interview. The woman babbled in German and Emma rushed to her aid.

"Ach du meine Güte, bitte entschuldigen Sie vielmals, ich hab die Wasserkanne gar nicht gesehen --- Sie sind ja ganz naß, hier, ich hole Ihnen ein Handtuch, dann können Sie sich abtrocknen -- es ist ja alles meine Schuld, es tut mir so leid..."

Emma replied, trying to calm the poor woman down, "Bitte lassen Sie es gut sein, Sie haben es ja nicht mit Absicht gemacht." Turning to the other ladies, she continued, “It’s only water. It won’t stain. Here, have some towels to dry off with.” Emma heard a loud clearing of a throat from the other side of the room. She looked up to see Katherine studying her intently.

“Miss Nolan. You failed to mention that you speak German.”

~*~*~

Emma sat in front of yet another imposing desk as she listened carefully to Robin Locksley, assistant to Killian Jones, one of the founding attorneys of the practice. When she met him, he explained that he needed to test her German before presenting her to his boss. He walked casually around the room, perusing her file in his hand as he dictated.

“Since all demands for payment have gone unanswered…”

“Nachdem unseren Zahlungsanforderungen nicht nachgekommen wurde...”

“such as the billing from September of this year…”

“insbesondere den Rechnungen vom September diesen Jahres…”

“we have no choice…”

“sehen wir uns gezwungen…”

“but to impound the shipment of cement wagons…”

“die Lieferung Ihrer Zementwagen zu beschlagnahmen…”

“until proper reparations are made.”

“bis Sie Ihre Schulden beglichen haben.”

He looked back down at her file as he continued. “You’re certain of yourself, that’s good. You’ll have to be.” He turned assessing eyes upon her for a moment then motioned her forward. “Bitte. We run an international practice here, and we’re trying to disentangle certain companies from their affairs in Germany.” She rose and followed him to the huge oak door behind his desk. “Unfortunately, Killian has a tin ear for German, which leaves him somewhat handicapped.” He opened the door and she preceded him into another room filled with ground to ceiling bookcases before stopping at another dark and heavy door on the other side of the room. “Graduated Cum Laude from Harvard, but flunked right out of Berlitz. He also has a lousy disposition and runs through secretaries like a bowling ball through tenpins. Incidentally,” he leaned toward her conspiratorially, “we call him ‘the Pallbearer’ because he rarely cracks a smile,” he whispered as he rapped his knuckles against the door.

A voice from inside the room answered, “Come in.”

Still whispering, Robin spoke again before opening the door. “He also dislikes women who wear hats, by the way.”

Emma quickly removed her hat and shook her long blonde locks around her shoulders as she entered behind Robin. Her eyes darted around the room as she stepped forward before landing on the man she’d seen outside earlier, seated on a leather sofa. She couldn’t help the surprised smile that upturned her lips. “Oh, hi.”

His eyes filled with surprised recognition landed on her, and her smile got just a little bit bigger.

“Hello.”

 “I saw you on the street this morning. With that speaker?” He looked at her with hardly any emotion whatsoever. His stoicism was a little unnerving, but Emma plowed ahead.

“What did you say to him?” she asked with a light laugh.

She could almost see the tension in his shoulders as he looked away from her, picked up some papers lying on the couch beside him, and rose.

“I simply suggested that he might be more comfortable speaking somewhere else.”

Intense attraction and appreciation for his handling of the situation filled her. “You were great,” she breathed, “Reminded me of Jimmy Stewart in The Mortal Storm.”

He didn’t reply but moved toward his desk.

“Did you ever see it?” she asked.

He turned back toward her, looking slightly confounded at her forwardness. “Uh, no.”

Emma swallowed heavily, her nerves rising again. “It’s a great film,” she added, before falling silent and looking around the room.

“What’s with the blackout?” Robin asked, interrupting the tense silence. “You expecting Hitler to bomb us tonight?”

He moved to the blinds behind his desk and opened them. “Sometimes I think better in the dark.”

Robin nodded, stepping forward and handing his boss her file. “Killian Jones, Emma Nolan,” he began, motioning toward her. “90 words per minute, bilingual dictation, works the mimeograph, and speaks German with the accent of a Berlin butcher’s wife. How’s that for a last minute save?” He chuckled, looking very pleased with himself.

“Berlin butcher’s wife…” Mr. Jones murmured, looking over her file.

“Home taught by her grandmother, who was from Berlin.” Mr. Jones turned surprised eyes on her, his eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline.

“But she wasn’t married to a butcher,” Emma offered, slightly hesitantly. “My grandfather owned a button factory. Until it burned down and they came to America.”

“So your grandmother taught you German?” he asked.

She nodded. “She doesn’t speak English.”

Mr. Jones raised his eyebrows in surprise again. “Really? Why not?”

Emma shrugged. “She prefers German.”

Mr. Jones’ gaze turned hard and she felt the same trepidation she felt earlier when he had fixed the speaker outside with the same look. “Does she prefer Germany?”

“Uh, no,” she assured him. “Especially with what’s going on there now. She’s been here since 1903. If she’s been here that long, do you really think she prefers Germany?”

Emma cut her eyes to Robin when Mr. Jones chuckled. He looked just as surprised as she felt. “No, I guess not.”

“Ich glaube er mag dich. Immerhin findet er dich witzig.” Emma couldn’t hide her smile at Robin’s little jab at his boss. He moved toward the desk and took Emma’s file back.

“She’ll be fine,” Mr. Jones announced before turning back to her. “Would you stand up and turn around, please?

Now it was Emma’s turn to be surprised. “Why should I do that?”

“Because you want the job,” Robin replied with a smirk.

“And I asked you to,” Mr. Jones added. “It’s a test I like to give.”

They were apparently serious, and Emma bristled, her spine straightening even more than good posture called for. “Well, I’ll take it sitting down.”

Mr. Jones leaned forward in his seat and folded his hands on his desk. She couldn’t pretend to not be pleased at the grudging respect she saw in his eyes.

“Very well,” he replied. “What I was going to ask you to do was stand up, turn around, and then close your eyes and tell me everything you saw in the room.” The stare was back and Emma shifted in her chair, slightly uncomfortable. “It’s an observation test. Now, do you really have a problem with that?”

Emma cleared her throat and took another deep breath. Her own pride got her into this, she was gonna have to see it through to its end.

“Pictures of sailboats and a sextant, fancy books and diplomas,” she informed him, her eyes never leaving his. “A stuffed fish on the wall, a calendar set to the wrong date, bookcases that need dusting, carpet that needs cleaning, and a couple of guys from Harvard who are surprised that a girl who needs a job won’t be treated like a slave.” She cut her eyes to Robin who was watching her with amused admiration. She looked back at Mr. Jones, whose lips twitched with mirth.

“Are you always like this?”

Emma smiled, smugly. “Well, my other half is Irish.”

“I see,” he said. “Lethal combination.”

Emma had no idea, but this was the moment Killian Jones began to fall for her.

~*~*~

Emma took to her new job with alacrity. She made friends throughout the building and settled into her new routine, thrilled to be embarking on such a career. Occasionally, when she was alone with Mr. Jones, she could feel him staring and would catch him looking at her with a hunger in his blue eyes that she’d never been on the receiving end of before. From any man. Her heart raced and breath caught as she struggled to hide her own attraction bubbling up within her, praying that he didn’t see how he affected her. Once the workday was over, however, she couldn’t keep the pictures in her mind at bay as she imagined what the fulfillment of the passion in his eyes would look like if he ever decided to act upon it.

As she continued working alongside Killian Jones day in and day out, it didn’t take long for her to realize there was much more to him than met the eye. The new year dawned with multiple occurrences of curious circumstances that set Emma’s mind to wondering who exactly Killian Jones really was. In late January, one of the switchboard operators accidentally tapped into his private line and heard a voice she swore was Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s. A couple of months later, Frederick from the mailroom saw an envelope addressed to J Edgar Hoover on Killian’s desk. And by the early fall of 1941, her boss would regularly disappear for weeks at a time, only to return as suddenly as he’d disappeared and dictate letters that made no sense at all.

“I am pleased to report,” he dictated slowly, as if he had to carefully consider what exactly to say next, “that my wife, Sunflower and I, and her new dog, Rover, just returned from the seashore where we saw a flock of birds. Seabirds. A flock of 14 seabirds diving for fish.”

“Excuse me,” she interjected, “are those pelicans? You said they were diving.”

He turned his hard stare on her. “I’ve asked you not to interrupt me.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jones, but the German language is very specific,” she asserted. “You wouldn’t say ‘seabirds.’ You would say ‘pelicans.’” She shrugged and cut her eyes toward him appraisingly before speaking again. “Unless, of course, this is all some kind of code, in which case you should just tell me so that I can stop bothering you.”

He chuckled in amusement and sat down in his chair. “Now why would you say something like that?” Emma shrugged. “No, I’m curious,” he insisted. “Why?”

“Well,” she began, “your wife’s name isn’t Sunflower.” She chuckled briefly before meeting his eyes again. “I mean, you don’t have a wife. At least one that I know about.”

He nodded and pursed his lips in thought. “Therefore you assume this is all some kind of code?”

“Listen, I don’t have to stand up and turn around to tell you that your overnight bag is full of woolen sweaters and heavy socks. Not exactly the kinds of clothes you would wear at the seashore. At least not a vacation type seashore. More like the English Channel, I’d say.”

“Anything else?” he asked, eyebrows rising quizzically.

“No,” she replied, looking down at her steno pad.

He leaned back in his chair. “Okay, then where were we?”

“Except the code is a dead giveaway,” she exclaimed, “I mean, 14 seabirds diving for fish? It’s obviously a fleet of 14 submarines. You’re gonna get caught with a code like this!” Emma struggled to keep her temper under control. How could he not see this? “The Germans aren’t stupid, Mr. Jones. I mean, they do it better in the movies! Did you see Espionage Agent, with Brenda Marshall?” He shook his head. “Well in it, when she talked about submarines, she talked about her rose garden.”

“Her rose garden?” he parroted.

“Yes,” she affirmed, “so there’d be no connection. And for airplanes, she talked about figs and dates.”

“Figs and dates,” he replied.

“Mmhmm,” she nodded. “Figs for Fokkers and dates…” she trailed away for a moment, trying to recall. “I can’t remember what dates were.”

He nodded, obviously humoring her. “Well, I’d better go to the movies then. To see how they do this.” He leaned over to a drawer in his desk and pulled out a picture of himself hugging a tiny woman with blonde hair and elfin features. The happiness on both of their faces made her smile for a moment.

“My wife, Susan. Who I call Sunflower. This photograph was taken a year before I put her in a sanatorium in Switzerland, a mental institution that I visit often and that I’m afraid she’ll never leave.” She looked at him and was surprised to see tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. “You’ll understand why I find it easier to let people think that I’ve never been married.”

Emma looked down at her hands. “I’m sorry.” She stood from her seat and came around his desk, looking out the large window behind him. “God, I feel so stupid.”

“No, it’s alright,” he assured her, waving aside her self deprecation.

“I feel so stupid that I don’t understand why I can’t make carbon copies of your letters.” She turned and perched on the edge of his desk, looking down at him. “Or why I have to turn in my steno pad for a new one each time I’m finished, or why I type endless letters but never envelopes so I don’t know where they’re going to.” He looked up at her and she was taken aback at the heat in his eyes he wasn’t quite quick enough to hide. She generally took care not to be so close to him, but she wanted to have a good look at his face as she confronted him with his duplicity. Her mouth fell open slightly, and she unconsciously ran her tongue over her bottom lip.

He looked away from her and picked up the picture. “Last time I was in Switzerland, I asked a psychiatrist the same thing.” She couldn’t help but think that he was trying to bring himself under control before he looked at her again, steeling himself to continue denying what she was sure he would call her outlandish theories. “Why is it that I don’t trust anybody? He thinks it has something to do with my upbringing.” He finally looked up at her.

“You’re a spy, Mr. Jones,” she accused softly, with a smug smile.

His gaze didn’t waver. She had to hand it to him. He was good under pressure. “And you’ve seen too many movies, Miss Nolan.”

Her grin got even bigger. “Yeah,” she agreed, lifting an eyebrow. “Enough to know a spy when I see one. And about this photo?” She took the frame from his hand and looked at it before turning to him again. “The woman’s name is Tina Bell. A model that you were never married to, but only dated. Before you met Milah Cassidy that is. A Vassar graduate who you were engaged to for six months before you got cold feet.”

He shot out of his seat, and Emma jumped, placing her hand over her mouth to contain the startled giggle that demanded release.

“Oh, this is outrageous!” He stalked around his desk, running his hand through his hair until it pointed in all different directions. “I don’t have to listen to this.” He continued pacing for a few moments before turning back to her and getting in her face, his hands on his desk on either side of her hips caging her in. His warm breath brushed against her skin and his eyes flashed. “How do you know all this?”

She drew a shaky inhale, her chest just brushing his. “I might be a better spy than you are, Mr. Jones.”

His eyes flicked between hers for just a moment before his lips suddenly descended to hers. She’d never been kissed before and had no idea what to do. It only took a moment, however, for her lips to soften under his and tentatively respond. When his tongue flicked against her lips, she opened to him with a soft moan. He kissed her like he wanted to devour her, passionate and possessive. She never imagined it could be like this. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and she buried her fingers in the hair at the top of his neck, marveling at the softness she found there. Pleasure she’d never known zipped down her spine and settled in her core, making her ache for more of him. Without thinking, she rocked her hips against his growing hardness as he gathered her in his arms, holding her tightly against him. His lips left hers and peppered soft kisses along her jaw and down her throat before he looked back at her again. She met his gaze, the azure almost fully eclipsed by his black pupils, as she tried to catch her breath.

“I have tickets to Beethoven’s Fidelio tonight,” he informed her, gently brushing his nose against hers. “Would you care to join me?”

“I’ve never been to the opera,” she replied, trying to mimic a highbrow accent. Her heart still thundered in her chest, equal parts aroused and surprised that he apparently desired to spend the evening with her. “What’s it like?”

He smiled widely, genuinely before answering. “Why don’t you join me and find out?”

“Okay,” she breathed, with a smile.

~*~*~

Later that night

Emma looped her arm through Killian’s as they departed the Metropolitan Opera House. It was certainly a day of firsts and she felt like she was walking on clouds. The opera was wonderful and she could only hope that she might have an opportunity to experience the art form again, preferably with the man at her side.

He looked over at her and smiled gently. She’d never seen him look so open before. So soft. Tender. It made her smile in return and place her head on his shoulder as they walked.

“So,” he asked, “what did you think?”

She raised her head and smiled brightly. “I loved it! But I have to ask, how did you like it? I mean, not knowing German.”

He looked forward, still smiling and waved his other hand in a dismissive gesture. “I know the story and I enjoy the music. Even if I can’t understand a word.”

“I could teach you,” she offered.

“You could try,” he replied, chuckling. “I’ve been told that I’m hopeless with German. I can speak French reasonably well, but that’s it.” He contorted his lips in some odd shape and tried to pronounce something she didn’t recognize, making them both laugh, “I just can’t get the German accent right.”

Butterflies swirled in her belly as their mutual mirth came to an end. “Well, at least I made you laugh.”

His head turned toward her and she was captured by the tender affection she saw in his eyes. “You do do that,” he said, in almost a whisper.

“Is that difficult?” she asked. “Making you laugh?” He stopped them at her question and turned to face her. The humor was gone, replaced with the solemnity she was used to seeing from him.

“We live in serious times, Emma,” he murmured, drawing her into his arms.

“Mmhmmm,” she agreed, nodding. She looped her arms around his neck and looked back up at him. “But that’s all the more reason. You know Charlie Chaplin says a day without laughter is a day wasted.”

“You believe that?” he asked, tilting his head a bit, a touch of incredulousness coloring his words.

“Yeah,” she affirmed, nodding again. “I try to laugh once a day. Just in case. Do you like Charlie Chaplin?”

“To be honest, I’ve never seen him.”

Emma couldn’t hide her surprise. “You’re kidding.”

“No.”

“See, that’s the thing,” she insisted. “Charlie Chaplin appeals to everyone.”

“You really like Charlie Chaplin?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He looked into her eyes searching for who knows what. The butterflies took flight again as he tightened his arms around her, drawing her closer, and lowered his head toward hers. A tremulous sigh escaped her as she lifted her chin just before his lips brushed hers.

It was like a dam broke. His arms tightened around her even further until every part of her body was lined up against his. A passion she’d never before experienced exploded in her blood as his lips pillaged and plundered her, leaving her weak against the surge. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, desperate to get closer to him as his mouth devoured hers. She pushed down her fears and insecurities about what was happening, what she hoped would soon be happening, and let instinct take over as she followed his lead. Their tongues dueled and their hands roamed soft curves and hard planes until long moments later, he pulled back, Emma nearly whimpering in disappointment. His lips and touch had kindled a fire within her that made her acutely aware of the emptiness inside that she longed for him to fill.

Opening her eyes slowly, she gasped at how wrecked he looked. His hair was mussed from her fingers, his lips slightly parted, red, and kiss-swollen and in his eyes swirled a combination of caring warmth, hunger, and surprise that left her breathless.

“Are you expected back at the boarding house at a certain time?” he whispered into the space between them.

Emma shut her eyes again as his warm breath tickled her lips. “No.”

He tugged her closer and she felt a thrill of female pride when she felt how much she affected him.

“Will you come home with me tonight, Emma?”

“Yes, Killian.”

~*~*~

Killian kept his hand on the small of Emma’s back as he ushered her through the door of his townhome. His fingers itched to feel her bare skin underneath them and he was amazed at the self-control he’d exhibited on the way here. Not that she made it easy for him. She may be untouched, but that didn’t stop her from stroking his arm or leg or biting her lip and looking at him from under her lashes as he drove them the nearly thirty minutes from the theater to his home.

She was a siren, plain and simple.

He’d only been with a virgin once, his own first time as well, and at thirty-four years of age with a fair amount of experience behind him, he was feeling the pressure of introducing Emma to the pleasures of physical love. He would have to keep a tight rein on his own passion if he wanted her first experience to be one of bliss and fulfillment and not one of pain and disillusionment.

He thought back to earlier that afternoon when he first kissed her at the office. He probably should have expected it, given how young she was, but he was completely taken aback when he realized she’d never even been kissed before. She’d been motionless for a moment when his lips claimed hers before he flicked his tongue against her lips requesting entrance and she opened to him with a moan and tentatively wrapped her arms around him. Then this evening after the opera, she was obviously more comfortable with his overtures and returned his ardor with her own.

Spinning around, he pinned her against the door and stared into her emerald eyes that glimmered in the low light of his foyer. She caught her breath, her mouth falling open slightly and he swallowed hard, only just keeping himself from hauling her against him and ravishing her here against the door.

He slowly lowered his head toward hers and brushed her upturned lips with his own before pulling back.

“This is the first time you’ve ever...” he trailed away, questioning.

She blushed prettily and looked down, seemingly embarrassed at his forward question. He raised her chin until she looked in his eyes again.

“Answer me, darling,” he pled with her, “please.”

She didn’t look away this time and slowly nodded. She was an open book to him and he could clearly see her longing mixed with anxiety about what she wanted. He wanted to do everything he could to assuage her fears and show her how much he cared for her.

He nodded and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“I thought so,” he murmured, nuzzling her nose. “I want you to be very comfortable, Emma. Be sure to tell me everything you are feeling. If you feel any pain whatsoever, let me know so I can do something about it.” He pulled back and searched her eyes for any hesitation. He found none.

In one swift motion, he swept her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to his bedroom, his eyes never leaving hers. He could drown in the jade pools if he allowed himself to. Entering his room, he set her back on her feet and stared at her for a long moment, taking in her exquisite beauty before caressing her face with both hands and gently kissing her again.

She immediately opened to him and his tongue stroked hers as her arms wrapped around his shoulders, clinging to him with a strength he didn’t expect. He rained kisses down her neck until he reached the square neckline of her dress. Reaching behind her, he found the zipper, lowering it until he could draw the sleeves of her gown off, exposing the top of her breasts to his sight. Placing gentle kisses along the swells, he reached behind her and undid the hooks that held the long-line brassiere together until she sighed with relief as it finally came undone and he tossed it over his shoulder. She threw her head back, her long hair brushing his arms as he held her tightly, a shuddering sigh escaping her lips as he licked and laved the dusky pink tip to attention before he turned his attention to the other.

“How does it feel, darling?” he asked huskily into her skin.

Her teeth chattered just a bit as she drew in a rough breath before answering him.

“So good, Killian,” she breathed. “I feel chills all over and an ache…” She trailed away as he chuckled into the valley between her breasts and continued his descent, pushing her gown over her hips and down her long legs. He followed the path with open mouth kisses, nipping her curves gently with his teeth before soothing them with his tongue. Her gasps of delight and sighs of pleasure stirred his blood in a way he’d never before experienced, prompting him to rededicate himself to making this the best he possibly could for her.

His hands trailed down her legs, her skin impossibly soft and pale under the light of the full moon shining through the window. Gooseflesh erupted in the wake of his touch as he looked up at the breathtaking vision standing above him. Golden hair, tousled by his own hands, framed her face, the green of her eyes almost fully swallowed by black, her cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen.

“You are so beautiful, Emma,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you almost from the moment I met you.”

“Then have me,” she urged.

He needed no further prompting. Rising quickly to his feet, he captured her lips with his own, their tongues engaging in the dance that had already become familiar. He reached down under her panties and cupped her mound, the heel of his hand rubbing against her hidden nub until she was grasping his arms and gasping into his mouth, her hips bucking toward him wildly.

“Yes,” he cajoled. “That’s it, Emma. Come for me, darling,” he begged. With a moan that went straight to his throbbing cock, she went rigid in his arms and her release bathed his hand in her essence. What would he give to taste her on his tongue as she fell apart? Next time, he thought.

It was several long moments before she recovered enough to open her eyes. He just caught the blissed out haziness in them before he gently kissed her.

“How was that, darling?” he asked. He pulled back to look in her eyes and it took her a moment to focus on him. He couldn’t help the delighted grin that spread across his face.

Her mouth opened and closed several times before she found her voice, her breath still coming in gasps and pants.

“I’ve never…” she began, “I can’t…” she shuddered in his arms before her eyes met his again. “I need…” She still clung to him as he held her close. He didn’t dare loosen his arms about her lest her legs give out.

“Oh, don’t worry, my dear,” he cooed. “I know exactly what you need.” He pushed her panties over her hips until gravity took over and he moved her to the bed. “Lay back, darling,” he encouraged, grabbing her hands when she tried to unfasten the pants he wore.

“But I want to see you, too,” she whined.

“There is plenty of time for that. We have all night. Right now is all about you.” She looked up at him, pupils blown in arousal, but so full of trust that it took his breath away. He appreciated her lean strength as she lay back on the bed and he beheld her glorious body for the first time. Her skin glowed a soft pink as her chest rose and fell enticingly. The blonde curls that framed her sex glistened with her arousal and he could hold himself back no longer. He climbed up on the bed with her and spread her legs before settling himself in between them. Looking up at her, he raised an eyebrow in question.

“May I taste you, love?” he asked.

“Is that…” she began before swallowing heavily. “Is that something that… can be done? Does it feel good?”

“Oh, yes,” he affirmed with a chuckle. “It is quite pleasurable. For both parties, I might add.”

“Really?” Her face was disbelieving, and he chuckled again.

“May I show you?”

She nodded wordlessly and he dove in. Licking a long stripe through her folds, he nearly came undone himself with the shivering inhale from Emma as she threw her head back in ecstasy. He hummed his own pleasure as her heady scent and taste overtook his senses completely. She whimpered and writhed above him as he thrust his tongue into her channel and was met with the barrier of her innocence. Carefully watching her for any sign of discomfort, he tongued at her opening before inserting a finger, gently stretching her entrance.

“Any pain, darling?” he inquired, continuing to probe her depths.

She shook her head quickly, her hips rising to meet him urgently. He curled his finger inside of her and pressed his lips to the swollen nub just above before sucking hard and sending her over the edge again with a gasping cry of his name. He released his own moan of delectation as her pleasure flowed over his tongue and down his throat. He placed one more kiss to her drenched folds before climbing up her supine figure and claiming her lips yet again. Her hands plunged into his hair, tugging it this way and that as she took command of the kiss.

She pulled away and undid his tie before she started unbuttoning his shirt, completely ignoring the suit jacket and waistcoat he still wore until he chuckled and removed them himself. Her impatience made her clumsy and she had trouble grasping the small buttons with her shaking fingers. He clasped her hands and brought her fingers to his lips, kissing the pad of each one as he looked deeply into her eyes.

“Breathe, darling,” he encouraged her. “We have all night. There’s no rush.” He kissed her again, slowly, gently, until he felt her relax in his embrace. Pulling back, he rubbed soothing circles into her back as she smiled tentatively at him and returned to her task.

Emma pushed his shirt off his shoulders and pulled the bottom of his undershirt over his head exposing a chest full of dark hair. She grinned in delight and buried her fingers in it. Looking up at her lover, she was surprised to see him with his eyes shut, lips parted slightly as she carded her fingers through the hair and over the firm muscles underneath. Her heart rate increased and his breath shuddered over her face as she traced the hard planes of his torso. The strength of his body sent her desire skyrocketing and she revelled in how safe, how protected and cared for she felt in his arms. Her hands finally reached the belt around his waist and she began to tremble with desire once again as she loosened it and pulled it away from his pants. Undoing the clasp, she nipped at his jaw, copying what he had done to her, until he took her lips once more.

She was having trouble paying attention to what she wanted her hands to be doing as his mouth took full possession of her own. A broken moan burst from her as she willingly gave him everything he requested in his passion. Pleasure shot down her spine as his hands caressed everywhere he could reach, all while his tongue branded her as his. She had never known, never dreamed that lovemaking would be like this. The fire he had kindled within her, blazed out of control and if he didn’t claim her soon, she would surely burn until she was nothing more than a pile of ash.

She finally had his pants undone and reached down under his boxers to where he was hard and heavy for her. She gasped as he filled her hand, not knowing quite what to do. He pulled away and she looked at him with questioning eyes. The blue was almost completely gone and his mouth hung open as she squeezed him gently. He pushed his underwear down and took her hands in his own, leading her in stroking himself up and down over and over again. His breath caught as she watched him.

“Like this?” she asked in a whisper.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Just like that, Emma. So good.” He closed his eyes and released her hands, letting her continue on her own. She looked down and gasped at the size of him. For a moment she wondered how anything that big was going to fit inside her. It was red and a bead of moisture was gathered at the slit. Her mouth watered and she wondered what it would taste like. She pushed against him until he was on his back, his surprised eyes blinking at her. Moving herself until she could completely remove his boxers, she hovered over him before darting her tongue out and tasted the enticing sight. It was salty, but not bad tasting at all. She took him in hand again and placed a kiss on the tip.

Killian gasped up above her and she turned toward him.

“Was that good?”

“Yes,” he croaked, “God, yes, Emma. May I…” he trailed away as she started stroking him again, his head falling back as he took a shuddering breath. She felt a surge of confidence and power that she, a completely inexperienced novice, was able to bring this beautiful man to this state.

“Yes, Killian?” she asked, halting her ministrations.

He looked back down at her, face flushed, hair mussed, and pupils blown. “Would you… would you take me into your mouth?”

Her jaw dropped. She’d never heard of such a thing. But if he used his mouth on her, it would make sense that she could use her mouth on him. She must have hesitated too long because his eyes got wide and he tried to backpedal.

“But, but only if you want to,” he stammered before his gaze sharpened, the haze of passion lifting for a moment as he tried to explain. “What we are doing and will do is very pleasurable for me. There’s no need for you to do anything that you’re not completely comfortable with.”

“You would enjoy it, though?” she asked, hesitantly, “Like I enjoyed you doing it to me?”

“Yes, Emma,” he assured her, “very much.”

She nodded with a little shrug. “Then I’d like to try it,” she whispered.

She opened her mouth and licked his slit again before wrapping her lips around his tip. He buried his hands in her hair and exerted gentle pressure on the back of her head, urging her to take more of him in. She took a deep breath and moved down toward the thatch of hair at the base before his hands on her face stopped her.

“Don’t go any further than that, darling,” he groaned, “We don’t want to trigger your gag reflex.”

She nodded and placed her hands around his base, preventing herself from going any further. She raised back up and then bobbed her head up and down a few times before he pulled her off of him.

“Keep that up, darling, and this will be over before it even starts.” His grin prompted her to respond in kind before she crawled back up and faced him.

“That was good, though?” She couldn’t keep the trepidation out of her voice that she had perhaps disappointed him with her efforts.

His eyes bored into hers, both hands on her cheeks- Yes, love. It was very good- before he captured her lips in a kiss so passionate, so possessive it took her breath away.

 He rolled them until she was flat on her back, her legs parting as he settled himself just where she needed him. She grabbed his hands before he raised them above her head, holding her in place as his hips thrust against hers, rubbing her deliciously, pushing her nearer and nearer that edge that she’d already fallen over twice. He kissed down her jaw and neck until he rose up over her and bade her open her eyes and look at him.

“Are you ready for me, Emma?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered.

She stared into his eyes and gasped as she felt him line up at her entrance. Releasing her hands, he gathered her tightly in his arms as his hips rocked slowly against hers, easing his way in. She clutched at his biceps as the sharp burn of his intrusion almost immediately melted into a bone deep pleasure, sweeping the memory of any discomfort far away.

When his hips finally fully met hers, she wrapped her arms around him, gathering him close to her heart. He pulled back slightly and reached down, pulling her leg over his hip as he thrust into her. The new angle brought her an entirely new cascade of pleasure as her hips rose to meet him. She grabbed his face and brought his lips to hers as he began to pick up his pace. The precipice drew near again as they moved together in the timeless dance.

“Killian,” she cried, clutching at him desperately.

“I know, my love. I know,” he gasped.

Emma sobbed in ecstasy as her climax crested. She was nearly incoherent in her rapture, but was dimly aware of Killian as he stilled, his member throbbing within her. Held tightly in his arms, she had never felt so complete or so sated in all her life. He pulled back from her and withdrew, prompting a whimper of loss to escape her lips.

“I’ll be right back, darling,” he murmured rising from the bed. He returned moments later with a warm wash cloth that he used to tenderly wipe her down. “How do you feel, love?” he asked as he continued his ministrations.

“Mmmm,” she hummed, eyes half shut, still floating on a cloud of replete satisfaction.

He lifted his eyebrow at her in amusement. “I take it that’s good then? No lingering discomfort?”

“None, Killian,” she assured him. She opened her eyes, only to find him staring at her intently. She stroked his cheek and poured all the love she felt for him into her words. “I promise you. I am completely fine. Thank you.”

He looked puzzled at that. “Thank you? For what?”

“For caring for me,” she replied. “For showing me what love looks like and feels like.”

Eyes softening, he leaned down and kissed her tenderly. “You’re welcome, Emma.”

~*~*~

David Nolan sat in Emma’s childhood bedroom and looked around. She wasn’t a child anymore, but he didn’t think he’d ever be able to banish the memory of his little girl looking up to him like he was the only one she’d ever love and who held all the answers she’d ever need. Where had the time gone?

He sat down at the antique vanity belonging to his daughter, his thoughts a jumble in his head after he called the boarding house she lived in during the work week and found that she hadn’t come home the night before after going to the opera with her boss, Killian. His heart was heavy as he took in the full sized bed covered with the Memorial Heart quilt that his wife had made from Emma’s baby clothes. He wasn’t ready for his little girl to be a grown up woman, with a life and family of her own. But that phone call this morning told him that she was much closer to that milestone than he was prepared for. She would be home sometime today for her regular weekend visit, and whenever she got here, he was gonna let her know exactly what he thought about her staying out all night with a man who was closer in age to himself than to her.

At that moment, the front door, which was just outside Emma’s bedroom, opened and his daughter slipped through.

David cleared his throat loudly.

“Daddy!” She jumped in surprise, her hand flying to her chest, clearly not expecting him to be waiting for her.

He stood from the vanity, frowning as he walked toward her. His eyes moved over her, searching for any indication of injury or mistreatment. He exhaled in relief when he saw nothing.

“Did you have fun last night?” His tone left no doubt to what he was referring to, and also revealed that he knew she hadn’t come back to the boarding house the night before.

She cut her eyes away from him, not sure she was ready to have this conversation with him.

“Well?” he demanded. “I asked you a question, Emma. I expect to be answered. Where were you last night? Out with that… that...” He sputtered in his indignation, his arm waving around aimlessly, not even able to say Killian’s name.

“His name is Killian, Dad. And you knew exactly where we were. He took me to see Fidelio at the Met.” She took a deep breath, wondering if she should continue. In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought and plunged ahead. “And when it was over, he invited me home with him and I agreed.” She raised her chin just a bit, fully prepared to handle whatever he might dish out.

David’s face turned an alarming shade of red and Emma wondered if she should have kept that last bit to herself. He wasn’t stupid, but saying it out loud like that obviously wasn’t her best idea.

“You dare come into my house and say…”

“David,” Mary Margaret interrupted from where she stood in the living room. David turned toward his wife and Emma could feel the tension in the room drop dramatically. Her mother held out her hand toward him who took it in his own and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it. “Why don’t you let me, before one of you says something you regret.” His eyes softened even further and he nodded in acquiescence, before turning back toward Emma.

His gaze fixed her in place, conveying his authority with a hard stare, but she could also see contrition in his eyes, evidence that he realized he’d nearly crossed a line. She wanted to squirm under his scrutiny, but he was gone toward the kitchen and his morning coffee before her discomfort had a chance to show itself. As soon as he was gone, her mother came forward and took her hand, leading her into her bedroom.

She’d always loved and admired her parents, but as an adult, it was plain to see the kind of relationship, the kind of love they had between them, and it had always been Emma’s dearest hope to find the same kind of love for herself. She smiled at the thought that she may have perhaps found that same kind of love with Killian.

Emma sat down on the bed next to her mother.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” she began. “I hope I didn’t worry you too much.” She’d always had an easier time talking to her mother and this time was proving no different.

She waved Emma’s apology away. “Not overly much, no, dear. I do have to admit to being a bit disconcerted about you being out all night with a man we haven’t met yet. But you are a grown woman.” Emma took the gentle admonishment as her mom no doubt intended, an acknowledgement of Emma’s maturity and independence as well as a request to meet him as soon as possible. Her mom leaned close, conspiratorially. “Your dad is just not quite able to believe that his little girl is all grown up.” Emma smirked, affectionately. “You’re all right?” she asked, “Was he good to you?”

Emma could feel her cheeks heating up, but she knew the question was coming from a place of love and concern, so she was determined to answer truthfully.

“Yes, Mom. He was,” she assured her. “So good to me.”

Her mom smiled and hugged her close. “I’m glad. A woman’s first time is not to be treated lightly and it makes me so happy to know that the man you’ve chosen didn’t do that.” She pulled back and held Emma’s face in her hands. Her eyes were filled with love and pride and Emma felt her own eyes fill with tears. “You love him?”

“Maybe,” she hedged, casting her eyes toward her bed. “I think so?” Emma looked back up at her and felt a calm certainty settle in her soul. “Yes,” she whispered. “I do.”

“Then be with him, Emma,” she urged, “Fight for him. Love is worth it.”

Emma grabbed her mother, holding her tight. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, sweetie,” she echoed. “Let’s go get some breakfast. I imagine you might need some coffee.” The smirk she sent Emma’s way made her giggle and blush furiously.

“Okay, Mom.”

~*~*~

The next three months passed quickly. While Europe suffered under Hitler’s oppression, life in America went on, secure in the belief that the far-off conflict wouldn’t come near them. Emma and Killian continued to explore their physical relationship after the work day ended or as they spent time together on the weekends whenever he was in town. His trips were becoming more frequent and lasting longer, and when he returned, his lovemaking was fueled by desperation- frenzied, furious couplings that told Emma their time together was rapidly coming to an end.

Emma wanted to weep with the unfairness of it all. Falling in love when the world was falling apart. When they were together, she sought to assuage his distress, showing him with every kiss, every touch what he meant to her. Soothing his furrowed brow with her fingers as she memorized every feature of his beloved face before he took her to the heights of ecstasy once again.

One lazy Sunday afternoon in early December, they were awoken from a relaxed, thoroughly sated nap by an announcement on the radio still playing in the corner of Killian’s bedroom.

We interrupt this program to bring you a special news bulletin. The Japanese have attacked Pearl Harbor, Hawaii by air, President Roosevelt has just announced. The air raid is still on. The anti-aircraft fire can be heard in a steady drone as the attacking planes come in. We will continue to receive reports which will tell very shortly the story of what is to happen in the months that are to come.

They could hear faint machine gun fire in the background of the report as well as the much louder booms from the US forces returning fire. Killian looked down at a white faced Emma and drew her even closer. An attack was not a wholly unexpected development, but he had to admit, he was shocked that it came from the Japanese and not the Germans.

The telephone rang downstairs and Killian shut his eyes in dismayed resignation. Hugging Emma even closer, he kissed her forehead.

“That will be Washington, love,” he murmured. “I have to answer.”

He disentangled himself and pulled on the long johns he’d discarded earlier. Turning back toward her before leaving the room, he memorized everything about her- about her in this place- as he could before heading downstairs to his duty.

“Jones,” he answered.

“I need you in Washington, sonny,” the buoyant but gravely voice of FDR informed him.

“Yes, sir, Mr. President,” Killian replied formally. “I’ll be on a plane tonight.”

The line went dead in his hands. He hung up and turned toward the stairs where Emma was sitting on the bottom step. The military posture he held as he answered the phone deflated and he moved slowly towards her.

Her eyes were filled with tears and he wanted to do nothing more than gather her in his arms, take her back upstairs, and make love to her until they forgot everything around them except each other.

But instead, he kneeled down in front of her and caught the tear slipping down her cheek with the pad of his thumb. He had no idea what to say. How did he tell the woman he loved that he was a Colonel with the Office of Strategic Services in Washington and that his time living a double life was over? She may have figured it out, but they’d never actually discussed it, not in all the months they’d been together. But he was boarding a plane to Washington DC in just a few hours and presumably, he’d be on the other side of the globe in the next day or two, heading into Nazi occupied Europe.

She broke the silence between them, grabbing his wrist and turning her face into the palm of his hand.

“You’re leaving,” she choked out.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“Can I come with you?” Her pleading eyes and tone threatened to shatter his heart into a million pieces.

“No, Emma.” As much as he wanted, needed, her by his side, now that everything was essentially out in the open, he knew it wasn’t possible. Besides the fact that he had people already in place, he’d never allow her to put herself in harm’s way like that.

She nodded into his hand and rose to her feet, pulling him with her. They climbed the stairs and the moment they entered the bedroom, Emma spun into his arms and fervently attacked his mouth.

“Make love to me,” she gasped, against his lips, “One last time.”

“As you wish, my love,” he crooned before doing exactly that.

End of Part 1

~*~*~

Thank you for reading! I’d love to know what you think!

A/N German translations:

Cleaning lady: "Ach du meine Güte, bitte entschuldigen Sie vielmals, ich hab die Wasserkanne gar nicht gesehen --- Sie sind ja ganz naß, hier, ich hole Ihnen ein Handtuch, dann können Sie sich abtrocknen -- es ist ja alles meine Schuld, es tut mir so leid..." - “oh my God, I am so sorry, please excuse me - I did not see the water pitcher -- you are all wet, here, I will get you a towel to dry off -- it's all my fault, so sorry.”

Emma to the cleaning lady: "Bitte lassen Sie es gut sein, Sie haben es ja nicht mit Absicht gemacht." - “Please don't worry, you didn't do it on purpose.”

Robin to Emma: “Ich glaube er mag dich. Immerhin findet er dich witzig”- “I think he likes you. At the very least he thinks you’re funny.”

[zet-sway]

🤡 😈 and ⛔️ if you’re still doing author asks?

lets do itttttttt

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

I'm particularly proud of this one. Someday when I finish next chapter in this fic, there's even more trolling and I fucking love it lol

Zaeed chuckled, and Shepard knew she had been caught. "Sorry, just a lot on my mind."

"A lot on your mind? You look like you're about to die of thirst and he's the only one that'll fill you up."

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

This may have been on the more cruel side of playful but there was that time I wrote a drunksmut interlude that ended with Shep finding out Thane's jacket is glued to his body.

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

look it's not scrapped i'm just in denial okay /(ㄒoㄒ)/~~

Okay actually I found this random page of notes in my car last week that had a bunch of fic ideas and brainworms on it, because sometimes I write smut notes on real paper like some kind of psycho. But there's this one line that cracked me up:

THANE VS HACKETT FEATURING THE RAKE

And by 'the rake' i'm referring to the cryptid that hangs out at the end of the bed with glowing eyes and spindly limbs. The premise of this was that Thane learns Hackett sent Shepard to help Amanda Kenson alone and called it a "favor." In this fic, Thane is feeling some kind of way. He somehow breaks into Hackett's ship and we get a Hackett POV of waking up in a dark room in the middle of the night and then suddenly spotting Thane - just barely - in the darkness. To which he's chilled to the fucking bone, Thane gives us some kind of Liam Neeson "particular set of skills" dialogue, and we wrap up with Hackett getting his morning coffee while constantly looking over his shoulder because yikes

Why did I scrap this? I'm not sure, now that I'm thinking about it. II played Arrival for the first time when LE came out, and it hit me just how fucking close we came to Shepard getting killed and the Reapers blasting our ass. It made me angry how Shepard had to endure that mission alone, because if Hackett had let Shepard bring a team, they wouldn't have been unconscious for two fucking days and they could have actually had time to evacuate the Bahak system - probably not enough time, but time enough to do something. But at the end of the day I think I shelved this idea because I am just not that interested in deep-diving into Hackett's brain. Now you've got me thinking though.... lmao

Thanks for the ask!!! You got me thinking real thoughts with my brain and I appreciate that because it makes me feel good C:

questions here