#once upon a time oneshot

[heliads]

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

'magic finds magic' - peter pan

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter snorts. “Why would I do that?”

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

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

“The others are busy,” Henry pouts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My little brother,” Peter blurts out.

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

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

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

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

Y/N’s brow furrows. “Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[justanoasisimagines]

Jealously Headcanons

Hey lovelies back with another jealously Headcanon. My requests ar open and you can find my guidlines pinned on the top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider

❀Killian will admit he's a possessive person. If you're his then you're his. Plan and simple. He wants people to know you're together so they're aware you're off limits.

❀He knows you're beautiful, an alluring little siren. He's heard your song himself. With that being said, it doesn't give anyone the right to attempt to attempt to steal you away from him.

❀Kilian is not afraid to confront anyone. He doesn't want anyone flirting with you whether it's verbal or touching. He cannot stand when someone brushes their hand over your back or wraps an arm around your waist. You are not theirs to touch like that.

❀Killian has two forms of confrontation. The first he approaches them with his usual confident self. Many find his presence intimidating enough and some scapper off. However, some people are brazen enough to stick around. Naturally, Killian uses his charm and wit to passively get the individual away from you.

❀Killian's sarcastic and nonchalant, underneath it's bothering him. Most of the time, it's enough to get them to leave. Sometimes the individual when they realise you're with Killian.

❀The second approach is much more direct. It usually occurs when Killian notices the individual is not backing off When they've laid their hands on you. Killian is more direct. He's threatening as he warns the individual off.

❀Killian's not afraid to get in a physical fight with someone who doesn't know how to respect you. They will learn to respect you one way or another.

❀He likes to remind people you two are very much together every once and a while. Killian finds enjoyment in it.

[stormgrl19]

𝑁𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑 | 𝑃𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑃𝑎𝑛

Peter Pan x Fem!reader

Credits: All credits go to the authors / the producers / etc. of the show / the book / the movie. I own my OCs and their plot and any differences from the original plot.

Request: Idk if your requests are closed but if theyre not could you write for peter? Somthing like the reader came to the island to help find henry but shes fascinated with the island and peters fascinated with her? Ty if you can !! < 3 ( @akumazwrld )

Summary: You go to neverland with Emma and the others to help bring Henry back and on one of your secret midnight strolls you meet a really… fascinating boy.

A/n: I am so sorry it took so long! I hope you like it!

Warnings: use of y/n, not proofread /edited/ …

Wc: 799

Part two

You don’t know how many days you had been on this island, just that it couldn’t be a week since you arrived with Emma, Hook and the others to help Henry. Back in Storybrooke you lived alone in an apartment over a flower shop, where you worked. You weren’t a main character of any fairy tale, just a side character with no known family, but before you all got your memories back, you sometimes babysat Henry, which is why you were now here, in neverland.

Walking under the stars, in a jungle with beautiful plants everywhere, you let your mind wander and carefully craft on your silly dream of living here. Nature brought you the feeling of peace, it always had and even so, neverland was dangerous, you somehow knew deep down, that as long you were surrounded by nature, nothing bad would happen to you. It was foolish to rely on your feeling, the others would definitely call you delusional, but neverland was to wonderful to just walk through it, without taking time to really take everything in.

That’s why you had been secretly going on little adventures to explore the mystical island, while everyone else was sleeping. So far you had seen a lot of trees, flowers and last night you saw for the second time in your life real mermaids! If you hadn’t had to be silent you would’ve squealed like a child on Christmas. The more you saw of the island the less you wanted to go back to your boring and lonely life in Storybrooke. Why would you, when you could life here? Explore the island until you knew it like the back of your hand, nature always by your side and (and know you were really far gone from any reality) befriend the mermaids, swimming together and play around.

 Walking slowly, you stopped right before you walked into a bush with dark green leaves. It was dark, but the moon shone through the trees and you could see the little thorns. The stems looked like they were black and without any logical reason you reached your hand out.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

Hastily you withdraw you hand and turned around. Before you, a few meters away was a boy, looking at you with an arrogant smirk and his hands crossed before his chest, while leaning on a tree.

“Why?” You asked, cursing silently for not bringing something to defend yourself.

“Because that is dreamshade. It is poisonous,“ he answered, still looking, no scanning you with his eyes.

“Oh.” You looked around, searching for a way to escape.

“Well, I think I have to go, so… It was nice meeting you?” The last sentence sounded like a question, but you really had to get away from him. He probably was one, of the people that held Henry captive.

He laughed and pushed himself off the tree, walking to you. Now you could get a better look on his face, and God was he handsome, but you really shouldn’t talk to him, should you?

“That was certainly a short meeting. I don’t even know your name.”

“Yeah, well-“ You stocked. Talking to him couldn’t be that bad and maybe he could help you with Henry? “Only if you tell me yours!”

His brow raised and he answered: “Ah, a little trade? My name for yours?”

“Seems fair, don’t you think?”

He hummed, “You can begin.”

“I can- fine. Hi, I am Y/n!”

“Y/n? That is a pretty name.”

“Yes, now tell me yours!”

“So impatient, are you? Don’t worry, I always stick to my word.” “So?”

He chuckled and walked closer to you, only three steps away from you.

“Hi, I’m Peter.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, it couldn’t be…

“Peter as in Peter Pan?” you asked hesitantly.

His eyes darkened and his smile changed from arrogant to something more… dangerous.

“Why, yes!”

“I really have to go now.” Panic was a feeling you knew all too well in this moment.

“Not so fast!” He grabbed your wrist and spun you around.

“I know why you and your friends are here - without my permission by the way - but-“ he leaned in, now only centimetres apart from your face “You won’t succeed. You hear me? I always win.”

He stepped back: “You should go now before your friends wake up!”

He sent you one of his smirks and seconds later he was gone.

You stared at the spot, were he stood only seconds ago. Scrunching up your face, you think about how you thought of him as handsome, he really is, with his hair, and his green eyes and-

You had to focus! You crushing on the enemy was not helping or useful.

At least you now knew: neverland was really fascinating.

[poisonappleeater]

currently filled with thoughts of regina from s2 and 3… she was everything

[lunalikestowriteanddraw]

Me: we need to finish up the Frostbek oneshot before we can ramble on about Gideon’s whole character for several thousand words

My brain, vibrating: no…must write…character analysis…

[vaguely-concerned]

sitting here with my head in my hands over just how much coalecroux is exactly tfgraves except tf incidentally happens to be a warlock alligator (a minor detail that changes surprisingly little overall tbh). I stand humbled once again before my own immense and unspeakable predictability

[inlovewithgreta]

Reflections — Regina Mills x Fem!Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Synopsis: After getting the weekend to yourselves, you put your bedroom mirror to good use to give yourself a view that you’ve been dying to see.

Warnings: Praise, fingering, mommy kink, etc…

Word Count: 1.8K

© Do not copy, repost, or modify any of my works.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The weekend was always your favorite part of the week, not only were you free from work but those two and a half glorious days were always child-free.

As of recently, Henry has come up with his own parenting plan. On weekdays he would stay with you and Regina then once the weekend rolled around he would stay over with Emma and Killian.

After certain disputes with Emma died down, Henry took full advantage of the double parenting to ensure everyone got to spend time with him.

He did stay with Mary Margaret and David on occasion but in the wise words of young Henry himself, 'they're too old school'.

It was only a matter of time before Henry got tired of trying to explain to them what a gameboy was and how it worked.

Today however was Friday, which marked the start of a brand new weekend. Everything went the same as usual, take Henry to school, help Regina in the office, grab lunch at Granny's, and last but not least, start spending the entire weekend alone with Regina.

While Regina was dropping Henry off at Emma's, you wanted tonight to be extra special for her.

It's been a while since you got all dolled up just for her and seeing you in her favorite color always made her jaw drop.

Working around the room, lights were turned off, candles were lit, rose petals were scattered, and you were frantically trying to make everything look perfect.

Although, all that was left was for you to slip on a little black dress but the second you saw your reflection in the mirror it's like you were caught in a daze.

The soft reflections from the candlelight had your skin looking like smooth silk. . .

And sheer red lace that barely covered your body seemed to hug in all the right places. . .

Your hands couldn't help but glide down the sides of your body before making their way around the back. With a slight turn, you watched as your hands slid down past the straps of your thong and admired the way it accentuated the roundness of your ass.

"Fuck. . ." You heard from an oh-so familiar voice.

You gasp sharply as your head whips towards the doorway to see Regina leaning against the doorframe with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

"I thought I was coming home to dinner. . ."

Regina kicks off her heels, instantly making her way towards you.

"But it looks like we're headed straight to dessert."

Her lustful voice got deeper than usual, just before her signature red stained lips collided with yours in a fiery kiss. Hands carefully cupped your cheeks while yours slid to her back in search of the zipper to her dress.

Regina giggles when she feels your fingers fumbling to pull the zipper down.

She walks you towards the bed and gently pushes you down onto the bottom half of the lush mattress.

You lift yourself up on your elbows and watch as she stands between your legs slowly gliding the zipper down.

You couldn't help but admire the way her lightly tanned skin was glowing under the candlelight.

Her dress falls to the floor revealing a matching black lace set that fits her body perfectly. Garters with little bows on them sat tightly against her thighs holding up her sheer black stockings that ended with a pair of black high heels.

Regina steps out of her dress, kicking it to the side, before climbing onto the bed above you.

She straddles your hips and instantly brings her lips back to yours. This time they felt even needier than before. . . more hungry.

Her hands reach around to unclasp your bra, sliding the straps down your shoulders and tossing it randomly behind her.

Breaking free from the kiss, Regina sends small kisses along your jawline and starts making her way down, leaving red lip stains in their wake.

Soft moans escape as she nips at your collarbone before heading straight towards your breasts.

She flicks her tongue over your hardened nipple.

Teeth slightly grazing across the sensitive bud.

"Mmm, mommy. . ." Your voice was just barely above a whisper.

Her dark chocolate eyes snap up to meet yours, caught off guard by the name slip.

She raises an eyebrow and brings her head back up to hover just inches in front of yours. Regina did her best at hiding the smirk begging to show across her face.

"Mommy, eh?" Her thumb swipes across your bottom lip.

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't be sorry," Regina quickly cuts you off.

"I find it rather. . . hot." She chuckles deeply before giving you another kiss on the lips, reassuring you in the best way she can.

You couldn't help the smile that spread across your face.

"You do?" Your bright eyes look into hers lovingly.

"Of course I do! You're just the sweetest little thing. . . call me whatever you like, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good girl. Now, is there anything you'd like mommy to do for you? Any requests while we resume our activities?" Her hand gently stroking your left cheek.

You contemplate for a moment, using your fingers to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. Eyes quickly darted to the mirror that stood behind her.

Regina turns her head to follow your eyes before looking back at you with her other eyebrow raised this time.

"What do you want? Use your words."

"I want—" You take a deep breath as you begin, cheeks glowing red as you're embarrassed by the fact she's making you be so forward. "I want to watch you fuck me in the mirror."

Regina looks taken back at your request, not expecting that sentence to ever come out of you.

"My little Angel doesn't seem to be so innocent anymore. . . I love it." Her nose scrunches as she finishes her sentence and gives you a quick peck before she moves herself to sit next to you with her legs spread.

She pats the empty space between her open legs, Regina now facing the floor length mirror that sat across from the bed.

"Come."

You sit up and take her hand as she helps you climb into her lap, both of your bodies facing the mirror.

She moves your hair behind your back and completely exposes your neck.

Tender eyes meet yours in the reflection.

"Is this what you wanted?" She asks, kissing your neck softly.

"Yes," You shudder when she reaches the spot just below your ear and tilt your head to give her better access.

Her free hand slides all the way down your side to reach your thighs and uses gentle force to spread your legs wider for her to achieve better access.

"Look at you, already so wet and we've barely even started." Regina chuckles at the prominent wet spot against your panties.

You hum when her warm hand reaches your center, playing with you through the thin fabric.

Her free hand slides across your chest to toy with your breasts and slightly pinches your nipple between her fingers.

You lean yourself as close as possible to her. Her breasts pressed heavily against your back.

You watch through the mirror as her fingers tuck beneath your fabric and move it to the side. The cold air hitting you sends a long chill up your spine.

"Open," She demands when she brings two fingers to your lips.

There was almost an immediate response to your mouth opening and Regina slowly sliding them in.

"Now suck for mommy."

You do as you're told and swipe your tongue along the length of her fingers and gently sucking at the tip before she pulls them back out.

Brown eyes scanned your nearly naked body as her now wet fingers slid back down to where it was prominently more wet.

Slim fingers toy at your entrance, almost teasing you along your folds before they easily dip inside.

A small moan slips from your mouth as she fills you. Your eyes watch through the mirror when Regina's lips return their attention to your neck.

She sucks and kisses along your neckline and across your shoulder while her pace steadily grows faster along your cunt.

Heat immediately spreads throughout your body at the pleasure of the slight curve of her fingers along with the subtle pinches against your nipples.

"You like this don't you?" Regina questions.

"You like it when mommy plays with you." She whispers lowly in your ear.

"Yes—God yes."

She watches as your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head at the full curve of her fingers. The different areas getting pleasure was almost too much to bear once she added the palm of her hand to your clit.

Moans of ecstasy filled the dim room around you along with the sounds of her palm gently smacking against your skin.

Expert fingers hit just the right spot with every skillful thrust.

"You're doing so good for me, darling."

Your legs couldn't help but twitch as you felt yourself nearing your release, fighting to keep your legs from closing.

Dark eyes were glued onto yours through the reflection when she heard your moans increase in volume.

"I want you to look at me when you finish, can you do that for me?"

"Y-Yes!"

Your head leans against hers as your hands claw their way at the sheets.

"Oh my god—" Your voice nearly catches in your throat as you finally reach the climax you've been running towards.

Your bottom lip gets roughly pulled between your teeth while Regina releases your tit to lay her hand atop your own that's grasped against the sheets.

Her movements soon turned gentle as she helped ride out your high.

"That's my good girl." She proudly speaks out, both of you still eyeing each other down in the mirror.

Your eyes immediately lighting up at her praising words.

She slowly removes her fingers and almost instantly brings them between her lips, quietly humming when she finally gets a taste of you.

Her fingers quickly get sucked clean.

"Stand up real quick my love so we can clean you up."

You do your best to stand so the two of you can clean yourself in the restroom. She sets you atop of the bathroom counter and swiftly cleans you with a wash rag, throwing it in the hamper when she's done.

"How about we put on a movie and order some of your favorite takeout?" She offers, knowing neither of you are now in the mood to cook.

You nod your head excitingly which puts a precious smile across her face.

"Okay then it's a plan," She chuckles and gives you a peck on the lips just before you return to the bedroom.

She opens her drawer and takes out two oversized button up shirts, tossing one to you and putting one over herself.

The two of you end up spending the rest of the night laying in each other's arms across the leather couch after a quick meal, easily falling asleep to one of your favorite movies.

[demonicbaby666]

Masterlists

Criminal minds

Marvel

Once Upon a Time

Supergirl

Kinktober 2023 nsfw

[miralines]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Once Upon a Time (In Space) - The Mechanisms (Album), The Mechanisms (Band) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Jonny d'Ville & Rose Red Clone(s) Characters: Jonny d'Ville, Rose Red Clone(s), nastya and briar both briefly appear but not enough to tag Additional Tags: POV Outsider, Canon-Typical Violence, not described super graphically though, Sleeping Beauty (Song), the fall of fort rapunzel, The Reality Of Clone Soldiers With Zero Human Rights, Timeskips, the character death is of two of the pov rose reds Series: Part 15 of One Thousand and Three Summary:

A man strides lazily out of the bushes, hands up and well away from the old-fashioned revolver on his hip. He’s dressed oddly, not nearly warmly enough for a norm in this climate and wearing too many belts. Unlike most of the norms 593 has met, he doesn’t look the least bit intimidated by her.

Three times Rose Reds were completely unprepared to encounter Jonny d'Ville.

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

CS Sleepy Prompt One-Shots (5/?): “Go Rest. I'll take care of this."

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | A03

Since the sun had set on Captain Liam Jones, his successor had made a point of rising before the sun. Most mornings were spent pleading with the sea to swallow him and correct the wrong that had occurred when the wrong brother was claimed by Death. But, there were some mornings in which he’d feel this odd sensation that he was meant for more, there was a reason he’d been spared, and he merely needed to hang in a bit longer and everything he’d been through would be worth the treasure he was headed toward.

When Milah entered his life, he’d thought their love was the end of his hunt. She had been killed for her love for him by a petty ex-lover. The crocodile crushed her heart and shattered his in one swift movement. Endless mornings followed in which the darkness was filled with fantasies of revenge - if he were forced to survive after his love and heart had been lost, then he would dedicate what was left of it to destroying the bloody beast who had taken them.

This morning was far from those. Today. exhaustion weighed him down and he groaned as he pushed off the bed. A demand for warm milk had turned into a chant taken up by two little voices that seemed to echo throughout the house, perhaps the neighbourhood.

The mound of blankets taking up the other half of his bed released a sound that might have been a grunt or perhaps a word. Whatever the sound was meant to be, Killian could hear in it fatigue that matched his own. Something in their shared struggle gave him the strength to rise and face the chaos he knew would be waiting for him.

A small smile pulled at his lips as he leaned in to kiss the wild mane of blonde hair poking out from the cocoon of blankets, “Rest, love. I’ll take care of this.”

“Five minutes,” Emma muttered back, her voice already thick with sleep.

Killian shook his head as he left the dark room, closing the door behind him. His wife would sleep another few hours after the night they had last night. Hope had woken up several times with coughing fits that seemed too big for her tiny body. Each time she woke up, Maren followed shortly after, having crawled into bed with her big sister earlier in the evening. They would battle with the stubborn four-year-old to take the bright blue liquid that would resolve her coughing fits and cut the fever that she hadn’t been able to shake and then have to soothe her sister back to bed. Almost an hour after Hope’s heart-breaking coughs woke them, Emma and Killian would crawl back into their bed. Killian would drift off quickly, having learned to catch rest whenever he had the opportunity. But Emma would toss and turn, finally drifting to sleep mere moments before the next wake-up would occur.

“WARM MILK! WARM MILK!” The chants continued as he stepped into the room where both girls were wide awake and bouncing around despite the early hour. He leaned against the door, his legs and arms crossed as he watched them in amazement. Both girls were sniffly, coughing messes and they were still full of energy and giggles.

“DADDY!!!!!!” Maren yelled, wiggling off the bed over her sister and running toward him with her arms wide open. Killian swept her up onto his hip, “I want warm milk,” she demanded in greeting.

“I’ll help! I am good at helping.”

“Alright, little loves. We have to be quiet so we don’t wake Mummy.” Killian said, his voice a whisper.

“WE’RE SO GOOD AT BEING QUIET, RIGHT DADDY?” Hope said excitedly as they passed the door behind which his wife slept.

Killian flinched at her unexpected volume. “Yes, you are both so good at keeping quiet. We need to stay quiet just a bit longer,” he answered in a whisper.

“Do we have to be quiet downstairs?”

“No, love.”

“Why? We will wake up mummy if we are loud.”

“The kitchen is far from our room. Mummy won’t be able to hear us, so we can be loud once we are there.”

Hope was quiet for a moment as they made their way down the stairs.

Once they stepped into the kitchen, Killian set Maren down to start preparations for breakfast. Hope took her sister’s hand in hers and led her deeper into the room, “Mary, we can talk now because Mummy can’t hear us, so we can’t wake her up.”

Maren, who had stayed quiet since issuing her initial command, nodded seriously at her sister’s words. The curls in her blonde hair bobbed with the motion.

“Do you want to colour?”

“Mhmm.” Maren climbed into a chair as Hope pulled out some crayons and paper for them both.

Killian stalled in his preparations and watched as they sat together chatting away about their drawings. He soaked up this moment, saving it for when they started yelling about their toys and favourite cups and which one touched the other one first later today. But this moment, just as the sun started to stretch its first rays over the horizon, was the treasure he'd spent his lifetime seeking.

[heliads]

like a heartbeat, drives you mad

From the moment you first dream of Neverland, you know that it's a home unlike any other. Waking up is terrible every time, but what if you were able to find a way to stay there forever?

masterlist

You are always alone when the thoughts catch up to you. When you’re with other people, it’s different, easier to convince your mind to race to better, safer topics. You don’t have to think about the fears or the worries, you just have to keep up with the conversation or do your best to not seem like the person you’re terrified you truly are. Everything hinges on the one other person there, distracting you from the relentless parade of thoughts, keeping you firmly in reality.

When you’re alone, though, you can’t hide anymore. You wave goodbye to your friends to head inside, and with your hand on the knob, you think, did they really want to see me? And, was that laughter genuine, or were they faking it the whole time? Worse, was it at me?

Things get worse once it gets dark. You lie awake at night thinking that you’ll fail at everything, that no one will want to associate with you after that, that everyone on this earth is going to live and die and no one will ever remember you again. You don’t like thinking along such dark lines, but the self-hatred is strong and won’t let you go. You’ve tried before, shaking it off, but it always comes creeping back when you want it the least.

Life is not the best, but at least the fall of dusk upon the streets and surroundings of your hometown brings you the blessing of finally being able to go to bed. You can push off schoolwork until the next day, chores until forever, just so long as you can shut off your mind and crawl under your covers and everything will go away.

Tonight is one of those nights when you want it most of all. It’s been a long day, followed by a long week, chased by an even longer month. You can only tell yourself that it’ll get better soon for so long before even that familiar lie loses its charm. It’ll be good to rest tonight, though. Maybe tomorrow will make you happier. You close your eyes and try to sleep, all but begging unconsciousness to fall over you and carry you away. Your waking life is horrid enough. In sleep, at least, you will be alone, but–

In your dream, there is a boy. He was not there before. He is, in fact, nobody you have ever seen before. This should not be a problem. Dreams are rarely perfectly photographic, but this boy is, indeed, perfect. He’s absolutely in focus, blurred by none of that dreamlike haze that most figures cling to in your subconscious. It’s like a memory, but it’s never happened. It’s like reality, but you are still definitely asleep.

You stare at him for longer than is perhaps polite, but he does not go away. You can feel this dream in a way that should not be possible– the carpet under your feet, the cool of the air conditioning. You’re in your room, standing by the door. He’s perched on a chair, eyeing you with interest, and as bizarre as this dream is, you cannot shake the absolute certainty that this is his fault.

The only thing to be left, then, is to get some answers. You work up the confidence to speak, and your voice sounds exactly as it should, not distorted by dreams or anything. “Who are you?”

The boy chuckles. “A friend of yours. Hopefully, that is. I’d like to get to know you.”

Having gone a record number of years of your life without any hyperrealistic boys disrupting your dreaming schedule, especially ones who specifically wanted to meet you of all people, this only adds to your confusion. “Why?”

The boy shrugs liberally. “I’ve been encountering fewer and fewer dreamers around. Yours are the most vibrant. I was curious.”

You fight the odd urge to laugh. “A lot of people dream. Maybe you’re just bad at looking.”

This is, of course, the most rational thing you can do, immediately pick a fight with some guy currently terrorizing your brainwaves. Luckily, he doesn’t seem offended by your need to argue, and he just grins. “See, you’re right, but most dreams are nothing more than surface level. Yours are deeper, richer, stronger. In all honesty, that’s the sort of thing that makes me more powerful, so I wanted to see what it was about.”

You scoff. “Sure thing, magic boy, you, like, eat dreams or something. Weird of you, but okay.”

He smiles again. He shouldn’t, but he does. “You don’t believe me? I can show you.”

He stands, holds out a hand to you. You’re certain this guy’s nothing more than a figment of your imagination, but still. You hesitate. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Peter,” he says, “but magic boy works too.”

It makes you laugh. Shouldn’t, but it does. Just enough to shake loose your hesitations– what could happen here, after all, in the confines of your own dreams? You take his hand and something sparks behind his eyes. Pride, maybe. Or justification of some sort. Either way, you get the feeling that he’s just proven himself right.

Peter walks over to your window, throwing it open abruptly and climbing out onto the ledge. “You have to trust me,” he tells you, “or this isn’t going to work very well.”

You want to argue with him that you have absolutely no reason to trust him at all, but for some reason you’re already crawling out the window before you can get the words out. Your body trusts him, even as your mind doubts it. Strange, but nothing about this makes sense, anyway.

Peter straightens up slowly, bringing you with him. “Are you ready?”

“For what?” You ask, concerned.

His eyes dance with mischief. “For this,” he calls out, and he pulls you from the ledge.

There is a terrible moment of falling, when the only sure thing is his hand still wrapped around yours. You are plummeting towards the ground with dreadful speed, but then you’re not, and you’re leveling out again, the two of you pulled through the air as if by some invisible string.

The wind whips through Peter’s hair as the two of you soar through the air. “How is it?” He shouts over to you.

You laugh delightedly. “Fantastic.” It’s almost a pity it isn’t real. The fact that it feels so true but isn’t is almost more heartbreaking as if nothing had felt like reality in the slightest.

Before you know it, you and Peter are well beyond the reaches of your town, or even your country. Dark waters skim by underneath you, the waves of some foreign sea. Thousands of stars twinkle above you, Peter points out a few, shouts, second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning, that’ll get us there. You frown at him, call back, where? And he laughs, delighted in the thought of all that you have soon to experience, and screams, Neverland! at the top of his lungs.

It sounds like a joyous place. It is, from the moment you step foot on its pearlescent beaches, and later still, when you’re striding through the lush forests towards a campsite. It’s all a blur from that moment onwards, a swirl of new faces running towards you and laughing at your jokes, the clash of swords without a trace of fear, promises that you’ll love this even better, or that, or everything.

It is paradise. You do a hundred things and never tire. The Lost Boys who meet you, take you by storm, and obviously enjoy the company of a newcomer. Throughout all of it, Peter watches, tucked into the shadow of a tree trunk, arms folded across his chest with that satisfied smile on his face again. He does not approach until earlier into the morning, once dawn starts bleeding out beneath the blushing fingers of the rising sun.

“We have to go back,” he tells you at last, slipping out from his hideaway to step carefully to your side, “Or, you do, at least.”

The memory that none of this is real comes crashing down upon you, and you can feel the ecstasy of this whole night leaving you in a flash. “Right,” you say, “This is just a dream. Forgot about that.”

The thought that you’ll have to wake up and go to school and exist again as a normal person without any of this wonder that you’d just experienced makes you feel sick and saddened. Peter shakes his head, eyes soft. “You don’t necessarily have to wake up, but you should. You can come back soon, though.”

You laugh bitterly. “Of course I can, dream boy. I’m going to forget all of this by morning.”

He frowns. “Do you want to?”

“No,” you insist, “but I don’t think I have a choice.”

“You do,” Peter tells you, “You always have a choice. Always.”

With that, he takes your hand, and pulls just so. You stumble forward, caught off balance, and when you look up again, you’re in your room. Same four walls, same ceiling, same everything. You know somehow that this is the dream no longer, even without mysterious boys or wonderful islands in front of you.

A dreadful sigh leaves your lungs, carrying only heartbreak and misery. What a pity, to have such a magnificent dream and then have to leave it. Knowing that none of it was real is perhaps one of the worst agonies you have ever encountered in your life.

Or– was it not real after all? There’s something clenched in your hand, and you raise it slowly, uncurling the fingers one by one. What falls neatly onto your lap is a stone, polished to perfection by centuries of tides. It’s like no stone you’ve ever seen around here, shiny in a way that nothing natural is. It’s dark and lovely and– and it’s exactly like the ones on the shores of Neverland when you first touched down. There was no way you could have gotten it anywhere but there. That means that you were there after all, and that it’s real, it’s all real.

You go throughout the day in a haze, barely able to focus long enough to remember where you’re supposed to be going. None of it matters, though, not even the snide comments of your teachers or the questioning looks from your peers. Nothing matters, because the second the day ends and night creeps back around you, you know it’s time.

You have a brief moment of terror just before you fall asleep when you wonder if you can get back after all, that perhaps that was just a one time thing. No, you decide firmly, I want it. I’m going.

And, when you open your eyes to that same slightly uncanny feeling of the dream before, you know it, you can get back. Peter isn’t here this time, but that doesn’t stop you from racing to your window and throwing open the sash. You leap out into the air again blindly, reaching for the stars even before your feet leave the threshold. You won’t get hurt, none of this is real. All of this is real, that’s why you can fly into the air again, caught by an unseen hand. Second star to the right. Straight on until morning. You know the way. You couldn’t forget it if you tried.

The beaches of Neverland are empty, but you charge forward anyway, nearly tripping over tree roots and loose plants as you hurry through the forest. You can just see the lights of the camp, and then, yes, you’re into the clearing, and you’re greeted by shouts of glee and joy. Peter’s waiting for you at last, slowly clapping with the rest of the boys.

“You made it,” he says, evidently proud, “We wanted to see if you could.”

“Of course I can,” you tell him, laughing, “I made that choice.”

“That you did,” Peter says, and the celebrations begin.

It is quite possibly the best time of your entire life. You repeat this process day after day, slogging through your daylight hours with the end goal of being able to fall asleep and go back to Neverland, back to your Lost Boys, back to Peter. Nothing matters but the island. They all get along with you better than any friend you’ve ever made on the mainland.

The journey takes a shorter and shorter time, gone in the blink of an eye, and half the time you just wake up on the shores anyway, so familiar is the destination to you. You learn archery, throw knives, spar with the boys, shriek and shout and spin around the campfire. It’s fantastic, all of it, but that only makes the morning even worse in your opinion.

For, no matter how excellent of a night you had on Neverland, you always have to go back. Always. Peter takes your hand and he gives you that same look, that expression of regret and acceptance, and promises to see you later, to see you soon. Then you’re back in your house, and every time, the storm of homesickness and grief at no longer being on your island pulls you under.

It makes you think, though. On your first night on Neverland, Peter had said something strange about how you didn’t necessarily have to wake up. Perhaps it fits in with what he’s been telling you about how everything is just a choice. Maybe he’s been waiting for you to want that choice, the one to live here forever. It’s one you’d make in a heartbeat if you could only do it.

Curious, though, you start looking around at the other Lost Boys. They had to have gotten here somehow, right? One night you see one of them arrive, ferried over by a strange shadowy thing that looks far more terrifying than the whirlwind flight you’d had with Peter.

You ask one of the Lost Boys about it that night, interested to know why you were brought by Peter and this newcomer wasn’t. Apparently, though, you were the anomaly, not this boy.

“Usually Pan makes his shadow bring newcomers over,” the boy tells you matter-of-factly, “but I guess he wanted to impress you or something.”

You frown. “Why?”

The boy lifts a shoulder, evidently unbothered by the whole affair. “You’re the last of the dreamers, I guess he wants to keep you around or something.”

It’s an unhelpful answer, all things considered, and basically just what Peter had told you in your dream bedroom that first night. Still, the story is consistent, at least, and it makes you even more certain that Peter wants you to stay. You’re one of the dreamers, right? Why wouldn’t he want you to stay here forever, at least to keep his magic strong if not for the obvious friendship the two of you have had since the very first time you met?

You resolve to bring it up to Peter the next night. You’ve barely been on Neverland for an hour or two before you pull Peter aside and tell him what’s been on your mind for the longest time.

The breath out of your lungs is shaky, but you’re determined to get this right. “I want to stay in Neverland,” you tell him. “Forever, I mean. Not waking up. I want you to bring me here in real life. You always say that we have to make choices, and this is mine. I choose Neverland.”

Peter nods slowly, and you’re almost getting up your hopes that he’ll be accepting when he starts to speak. “That certainly would be an important choice. I would have to choose to bring you, though.”

You incline your head once. “Yeah, that’s why I’m asking you now. I mean, we’re friends, right? You and me, and the rest of the Lost Boys get along with me, too. I belong here, you know that. You brought me here in the first place, at least let me stay.”

He’s not saying anything. Why isn’t he saying anything? After too many minutes, Peter sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “Dreaming is one thing. Actually living here is something else entirely.”

“I know,” you say, starting to get impatient, “I’ve thought about this a lot, trust me, but I feel more alive on your island than I have in the real world. This is my home, Peter. You made it my home.”

Peter stares at you, the ground, his hands, and back to you. “No,” he says at last.

It feels as if you have fallen off of a tall cliff, condemned to tumble down forever in endless emptiness. “What? Why wouldn’t you– you’ve let me come here every night for months, but actually being on this island for good is too much for you? Peter, was any of this actually real to you? Was I just here as a temporary thing while you tried to harness the power of a dreamer or something?”

Peter shakes his head quickly. “No, no. It wasn’t about that. You’re as good as one of my Lost Boys–”

You cut him off, feeling the horror build in your chest with every passing second. “But never actually one of them, right? I can hang around during my nights but I will never be one of them, because you don’t really want me here. If you did, you would have brought me like all the others.”

You want to scream and cry, perhaps both. You’ve trusted him and, hell, even loved him, more than anyone else. Peter was the one thing in between you and complete melancholy. He’s turned your whole life around, given you reason after reason to keep going, but he does not want you around for good. Maybe he doesn’t even want you around at all.

He’s trying to say something, come up with some excuse that’ll somehow exempt him from your heartbreak, but anger is quickly outweighing sadness in your mind and you won’t let him. “No,” you say shakily, “If you never intended to keep me, I won’t waste our time. Why have me here at all?”

Peter’s eyes widen. “Wait, please–”

You never hear the end of his sentence. You’ve woken yourself up from this glorious dream enough to be able to do it all by yourself, and you do it now. When you open your eyes, it’s still dark outside, several hours from morning, but it’s over now, it’s all over.

You know that with certainty. You’ll never be going back. If Peter does not want you, and it is suddenly crystal clear that he does not, or he would have already taken you to Neverland and never fought it, then you will not trouble him with your presence any longer. This is what he wants, even if it destroys you. 

It’s funny, realizing how much being on Neverland transformed your life. Your waking hours suddenly seem longer, the days filled with more dread and dullness than they ever had before. You had been miserable before you dreamed of Peter and the Lost Boys, and now that misery is back in full force. You compel yourself to forget him, to forget everything that had happened on that island, but picking up the pieces is a far harder task than you had ever anticipated.

Days pass. Weeks. Months. At first, you have to force yourself to wake up from that dream again and again, catching yourself with the image of second stars to the right even as you promised yourself that you would never think of it again, but it gets easier as time goes by. That hurts more than it should, but you have no other choice. Peter does not put himself in your dreams again. You do not show up to Neverland. Everything is exactly as it was before, but worse, because now you have those memories of a time that was far better than this one.

You’re walking home from school one day when you’re reminded of Neverland again. It’s a strong memory, forcing itself to the front of your mind. Green trees, the leaves waving overhead. The breeze whipping at your face. You can’t imagine why you’d be thinking of it again, and then you turn a corner and he’s there in front of you. 

Peter.

It’s impossible. You’re not dreaming, so he shouldn’t be here unless– unless he actually came here. You stand stock-still, hardly daring to breathe, and Peter looks back at you, just as shaken even though he’s the one who came all this way.

“I miss you,” he says slowly, unsteadily. You’ve never seen Peter hesitant, or ever show any sign of a lapse in his typical cocky confidence. Not until now, that is. Truly, he has no idea how you will treat him now that you’ve already left once before and gotten away with it.

“I know,” you tell him, “I know.”

Peter tilts his head to the side, trying to get a read on you. “Did you miss me?”

You take a step to the side, looking at the nearby scenery, anything but him. “Yes. Parts of it. I missed running with the Lost Boys under the trees. I missed the bonfires and the dancing. And yes, I think I missed you. But I hated feeling like you didn’t want me there, and for a while, that was enough to make me think I didn’t miss you.”

Peter’s eyes are wide, twin emeralds twinkling in the quiet air. “And what about now that I’m here? Can you miss me now?”

“I can,” you decide at last. You do. You have, and seeing him again has ripped open a fresh wound you swore had already healed. Blood is oozing around your fingers, but for some reason being with him still takes away the pain of such a grievous blow.

Peter holds out a hand to you. He’s trembling slightly, far less sure of himself than he’d been in a dream of your bedroom many months ago. Still. He wants you even now.

“Come back with me,” he says, “Back to Neverland. We all need you. I need you. You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to. It was always your home, I didn’t realize it before. It could be your home again.”

You look at him. It’s been a long time. You’ve grown up in the time since you last stepped foot on the island, but strangely enough, you think he has too. That’s why you’re able to take his hand at last, and trust that he will not let you down again. He needs you, just like he said. As it turns out, you need him too.

Peter’s smile is radiant. “Shall we go back, then?”

You allow yourself to smile back at last. “I think we will.”

ouat tag list: @lovesanimals0000, @eclliipsed, @w1shes43, @lost-ender

[justanoasisimagines]

Fluff Alphabet

Hey my lovelies back with another fluff alphabet, my requests are open and my guidelines are pinned to the top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

A = Affection - How afectionate are they? Do they like recieving affection etc?

Killian is an extremely affectionate person. Physical Touch is one of his love languages. He also likes you to be affectionate with him. Killian can be quite cheeky with his affection. Sometimes being affectionate to get a reaction out of you.

B = Bathing - Do they like to bathe or shower alone? What's it like to share a bath or shower with him?

Killian prefers showering with you. Killian witnesses bathing as an opportunity to relax, to talk about your days, to allow you both to soak off the week. A shower is another opportunity for Killian to roam his hands over your body, perfect for kisses and intimate moments. Being in a relationship with Killian means rarely showering alone.

C = Cooking - Can they cook? Do they like to cook? Would they cook for you? What type of dishes would they like to cook?

Killian is not the best cook in the world. In your relationship, you would do the majority of the cooking. Killian would not be eager to learn how to cook, he knows the basics, and he can get by. However, he doesn't enjoy the process.

D = Dates - What type of dates would they like to go on? Do they like to plan dates? Be taken on dates? How frequently is date night? etc

Going on dates is something Killian isn't used to. He knows how to court someone, but the modern idea of dating is confusing to Killian. You would have to teach Killian about all the activities you could do for a date. It could be quite fun, Killian would be happy with it too. It gives him an excuse to spend time with you.

E = Effort - How much effort do they put in? How do they show their efforts? Are they either an all out or all in kind of person?

Killian is an all-in kind of person. He's never going to do anything half-arsed. He knows early on if he wants to put effort into your relationship. Killian shows his effort by giving you his quality time being affectionate and merging his world with yours.

F = Family - Do they want to have children? What would family life look like? How many children do they want? etc?

Killian wouldn't be opposed to having a family, however, he's in no rush for it. He'd want his children to enjoy life on the sea as much as he does. He'd be a stern parent, wanting the best for his children. Killian would also love telling them stories.

G = Gentleman/Lady - How much of a gentleman/lady would they be? Would they hold out doors for you? Pull out your chair? Walk on the road side? etc

Killian is a gentleman in his own loveable rouge way. He's not going to be sweet, but he is charming and protective. No one is going to hurt you and get away with it. He will keep you out of harm's way. He'll open doors out for you, only to whisper something in your ear.

H = Honeymoon - Where would they like to go on honeymoon? What would it look like? etc

Killian would like to spend his honeymoon with you on the Jolly Roger. He'd like to travel across the oceans with you taking you to all his favourite spots. The length of the honeymoon would depend on you both. Killian wouldn't mind if you went away for a few days or several days to a couple of months. Only providing it's just you two.

I = I love you - How long would it take them to fall in love with you? How would they confess? Is it a big deal to them etc?

It takes a while for Kilian to fall in love with you. He doesn't expect to at first, Seeing it as nothing more than playful flirtatious banter yet it unexpectedly blossoms. Telling you is a big deal to Killian, he searched for the right moment. He fails on several occasions. He wants you to know he's serious and committed to you, so for Killian, the moment has to be just right.

J = Jealously - How easily do they get jealous? What makes them jealous? How do they react when your jealous? etc

Killian is a jealous person. He doesn't take too kindly to approaching you or flirting with you. He's naturally a possessive person. He has two forms of approach, direct and non-direct. Either way, he's not going to let it slide.

I've got a jealously headcanon here which goes into more detail.

K = Kisses - What kisses are they more likely to give? What kisses do they like to recieve? etc

Giving; Neck kisses, passionate kisses, come back to bed kisses, possessiv kisses,

Recieving; Good night kisses, good morning kisses, passionate kisses, sleepy kisses etc.

L = Love Language - What's their love language(s)? What languages are they most receptive to?

Killian's love language which he's receptive to and one of his love languages is physical touch. He prefers to show his emotions rather than have an emotionally deep conversation with you. Killian's secondary love language would be gift-giving. He'd surprise you with random things he'd found on his journeys to give you.

M = Marriage - Do they want to get married? What would being married to them look like? Do they want a large or small wedding? etc

Killian wants to get married more than he lets on. He wants you to have his last name. He wants to bind you together forever. When Killian marries you, there is no going back for him. Killian's not fussed over how big or small the ceremony is as long as he gets to marry you.

N = Nicknames - What nicknames would they use for you? Do you give any to them?

You; Love, Sweetheart, Darling, My Sweet, Beautiful,

O = Obvious - How obvious are they? What gives them away? Their face or actions?

It's difficult to tell if Killian likes you or not. He's naturally flirtatious and charming, it's difficult to tell if he's being serious about you. Even others around you can't tell if he's doing it because it's naturally him or because he likes you. Killian does have to be blunt with his intentions. Being more physically affectionate etc. In the end, Killian does have to have a conversation with you about his feelings and his intentions.

P = Public Displays of Affection - Do they enjoy PDA? How comfotable are they with PDA?

Killian loves public displays of affection. He does it in a kind of possessive way of telling everyone around, you belong to him. He also can't get enough of you. He's affectionate because he wants to me, if not being a little bit cheeky at times. Killian's always pushing boundaries of what's suitable in public.

Q = Quality Time - How do they like to spend quality time with you? How do they make time? Can they communicate effectively when they need quality time with you?

Killian loves traveling with you. He loves spending time with you on the Jolly Roger exploring the world together. It's his favorite way to spend any time with you. Kilian is not the best communicator, so when he needs to spend time with you, he'll eventually drag you away from whatever's taking up your time.

R = Romantic - Do they consider themselves romantic?

Killian considers himself to be romantic. He knows how to make you swoon. He knows what you like, so he'd considered himself to be romantic. Although, he finds himself learning about confusing courting methods. He's not going to follow all of them because he thinks some are odd. He does like to bring you flowers and chocolate from time to time.

T = Tease - Do they like to tease you? If so, how?

Yes, Killian does love to tease you. he likes to see you caught off guard when he whispers something into your ear. Killian feels powerful with the knowledge he can get a reaction out of you. It's usually by whispering something provocative in your ear.

U = Umbrella - Would they hold an umbrella for you? Would they kiss you in the rain? Dance with you in the rain?

Killian doesn't understand the point of umbrellas. It comes from spending so much time on the ocean, that he's experienced rough seas. There's not much you can do and it's only a little water. However, will he kiss you in the rain? Absolutely, he doesn't need the rain to find an excuse to kiss you. Dancing? He doesn't dance, and he doesn't want to lose his reputation, but if you ask him enough, he will just for you.

V = Vanity - How do they see themselves? Positively or negatively? What's their favourite part of their body etc?

Killian likes what he sees in the mirror. He sees himself as rugged and handsome. His favorite feature is his face. He believes that is the body party that attracted you to him in the first place.

W = Whole - When you're apart do they feel like part of them is missing? How do they deal with being apart from you?

Kilian can handle being away from you, it doesn't mean he likes it. He doesn't like being away from you for too long. A couple of days at most. While you're away life continues as normal, however, his mind flickers to you frequently.

X = Xtra - An extra headcanon

Killian keeps a picture of you in his pocket. He doesn't like most modern technology, however, cameras have proved to be useful. Now he can keep a picture of you wherever he goes. He can look at it whenever he pleases.

Y = You - What do you they like most about you? Favourite body part etc?

Killian's favorite of your body would be the whole thing. There is not a part of your body he doesn't like. His favorite part of your personality would be your ability to keep up with him. He needs someone who can keep up with him and the fact you do makes him even more eager.

Z = Zzzz - Sleeping headcanons

Killian likes to be the big spoon. He also sleeps by the door, if someone is going to attack you while you're sleeping, he wants to be the first person they make contact with. Killian doesn't sleep with his hook on, but his sword is placed beside his bed.

[poisonappleeater]

Regina x Trans Male Reader !!

regina mills x trans male reader (reminder that this is just in relation to my personal transmasc experience, everyone’s can be vastly different!!)

prompt: regina helping you out w/ dysphoria after rumplestiltskin says some crazy transphobic shit (takes place in storybrooke)

i also tried to not actually trigger anyones gender dysph lmaooooo so i do not get specific about it

Rumplestiltskin looked you up and down with a cold stare.

“I believe that you’re to use the women’s bathroom, dearie.” You felt your face go hot with frustration (and maybe even some embarrassment). God dammit. You just wanted to wash your hands in peace. To be quick and quiet was the best option, so you took a deep breath and scrubbed the soap off your hands with much more vigor and velocity than you had just a few seconds before. The water scalded your hands and turned them a little pinker. Mr. Gold scoffed through his nose.

“Even your low pain tolerance agrees that you are not a man, and it’s likely that you never will be.” Silence no longer felt like your best option. You’d come to Storybrooke as soon as your best friend, Aurora had told you that it would be easier to live as yourself, as a man, in a more modern realm. You didn’t consider that Rumplestiltskin would be trying to get under, well, your skin.

You spoke, as lowly as possible, “What would you know about being a man? You sacrifice your relationships for power. What does that make you?” His gaze faltered, and you felt like you had gotten to him. You also felt just a bit concerned for your safety. Gold took a steady breath and a thourough pause.

“I think that makes me a powerful man. At least more powerful than you. Correct? I recall you coming to me for guidance.” You scoffed, but your lip auivered. Seeking help from Rumplestiltskin back in the Enchanted Forest didn’t make you any less of a man. Everyone had at least once looked for help from the Dark One. Before a salty tear could escape your eye, you fled the men’s restroom and stepped foot back into the welcoming, red-and-blue ambience of Granny’s Diner. You released a shaky sigh and looked for your girlfriend.

Regina. There she was. Even the thought of her made your cheeks warm, despite your prior encounter with Gold. She was chatting comfortably with the Charming’s. Your need for your girlfriend’s warmth made you nearly start running towards your table. She spotted you instantly and smiled genuinely. It was clear you were equally enamored with one another.

“Hey, Y/N,” Regina greeted warmly. She noticed how fast you were walking.

“Hey, hey, slow down, it’s okay.” The well-dressed woman placed a hand on your back and guided you to sit beside her in the booth’s cushiony seat, with your leg touching hers. Regina laughed a little at the sight of you adorably speed-walking to the table. Taking a second glance at you, though, she could tell something bothered you. Your girlfriend’s face darkened with concern.

“Did something happen in the bathroom sweetheart?” Her arm wrapped further around you. Her line of sight travelled behind you when Rumplestiltskin came out of the bathroom.

“That son of a bitch.” Gina was livid. She tried to fathom how Rumplestiltskin could have possibly threatened her boyfriend. He could be up to literally anything. The vein above her right brow bulged so severely you thought it’d burst. You had to admit, her anger was hot. You felt her starting to stand up.

“No, no, Gina. It’s really okay,” you reassured. “No magical threats or sketchy deals were made. Promise.” The woman with burgendy lips looked into your eyes to ensure that you told the truth.

“Okay.” She sighed and crossed her arms, then sat down to kiss your cheek. You leaned in happily. The rest of dinner with the Charmings allowed the two of you to forget about Rumplestiltskin.

…

You locked the front door behind you and Regina and were suddenly too aware of your own body. Friendly chatter from Emma, Killian, David, Snow, and Henry filled your ears just minutes ago. And now, the quiet of Regina’s home flooded your mind with the words of Runplestiltskin.

“Hey, Y/N, baby?” Regina had both hands around your cheeks. You were sitting on the couch. You don’t remember moving at all since getting home. “I was asking you about a movie you wanted to watch, but-“

“Yes! Yeah, I’m sorry. We wanted to watch that movie. I’d love to,” you blurted. You gave your lover a half-smile.

“No. Gold said something to you. He’s plaguing your pretty little head,” she cooed. She sat down beside you and provided you with space to talk with her properly. You smiled at the gesture.

“It was nothing new. He said that I’m not a man. I can’t do anything about that. I feel like a man, but I don’t have the parts.” Regina intook your words with great conscience. Her glossy eyes looked into yours. She spoke after contemplating for a moment.

“If there’s anything I’ve learned from this realm, it’s that rules that we used to abide by back home were not laws of nature. They were laws made by people. And people can be so stupid, my love. That means that we, as smarter people, are allowed to live by rules that fit our logic. And according to my logic, you’re a man, sweetheart, regardless of what body you have. I know that because that’s what you’ve told me, that’s how you truly feel, and that’s how I think of you. You are whatever you think yourself to be. I love you for it, my sweet boy.”

“I love you, Gina. Thank you.” She took her time to memorize your handsome face for the thousandth time.

“Can I come close to you?” your lover asked, gently. You nodded and placed your head in her neck. she took you into her arms and stroked your hair.

“I still want to kill him,” Regina confessed. Her sharp words contradicted the gentle pets that she gave you.

You laughed. “Sure, Gina, just not today.” She couldn’t be upset when you were so calm and cute. Regina kissed your head and chuckled into your ear. You loved the sound of her laugh and the smell of her shampoo. Apple. So fitting.

“Okay, not today,” she sighed lightheartedly. “How about that movie?”

…

Soon, you had both showered and gotten ready for bed. There was no better feeling to you than being clean, on the couch, with your girlfriend about to watch a movie. You laid atop her chest while her legs entrapped your middle. Rumplestiltskin’s comments remained forgotten, and you and Regina remained content.

—

Hope this was okay!! Feel free to comment on anything, if anyone sees this. I’m kinda new to actually writing ff

[blackbrd]

Masterlist

Criminal minds

Once Upon a Time

[kazoosandfannypacks]

“Blanket Fort Fluff” by kazoosandfannypacks

Pairing: Captain Swan Rating: Teen Word Count: 1788 words Summary: When Emma realizes Killian's never made a blanket fort before, she sets up a blanket fort for their next night-in together. Author’s notes: A few months ago, we were watching my cousin's young son, and I asked the lad if he wanted me to make him a blanket fort. He seemed confused by this question, and I realized his parents and uncle and aunts had all failed him, in that he had never had a blanket fort before. He was delighted when I made him his "very own room" with some tray tables and blankets. Always on the lookout for fanfiction ideas, I realized that our favorite pirate has probably never had a blanket fort before either, so I decided to write a fic to remedy that. Taglist:@zahara@kmomof4@jonesfandomfanatic@booksteaandtoomuchtv@jrob64@tiganasummertree@anmylica@teamhook@undercaffinatednightmare@gingerchangeling@lonelyspectator@caught-in-the-filter  @ultraluckycatnd  @cs-rylie @silver-the-phoenix @pawshapedheart  [if you’d like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

Also on Ao3!

 Killian sat on the couch next to Emma, his arm wrapped around her as she scrolled through the pin-interesting application on her talking phone. How Emma and Henry were able to focus on watching a moving picture show while also focusing on their phone screens was still a mystery to Killian.

 Emma's talking phone buzzed- a digital message from Henry, one with a picture.

 "You do realize your mother is actually right here in the room with you?" Killian asked Henry, who sat in his own chair a few feet away. "Why don't you just get up and show her whatever it is you want her to see?"

 "It's just easier to send a text message," Henry said, "Less work."

 "Makes sense," Killian said, secretly wondering how any step that involved using more technology was something someone could consider less work.

 He saw Emma smile at whatever it was Henry'd sent, then reply with a picture of a face that was laughing while crying. She showed the message to Killian; it was an image of text that said: "I've decided to no longer be an adult. If you need me I'll be in my blanket fort- coloring and eating fruit loops."

 "A fortress made of blankets?" Killian asked.

 "You guys didn't have blanket forts back in our world?" Emma asked.

 "Of course not," Killian said, "we had fortresses made of practical materials, like wood and stone. What's a blanket fort supposed to protect against?"

 "Bad days," Emma shrugged, "sadness, I guess?"

 "And adulthood," Henry tacked on.

 "Ain't that the truth, kid."

 "So kids in this realm just build forts out of blankets," Killian asked, "for fun?"

 "All the time," Emma said.

 "Fascinating." Killian said.

 He didn't bother trying to continue the conversation, as the movie was just getting to what Emma and Henry referred to as "the good part," the final confrontation between good and evil, and Killian wanted to give it his full attention.

💕🦢💕🏴‍☠️💕

 That conversation was all but forgotten after a week, when Killian took Henry sailing to give Emma a day to herself. He then dropped Henry off at Regina's- and now Emma and Killian could have a night to themselves.

 "Emma, love," he called as he entered, "I'm home!"

 He was in for a bit of a shock when he entered the living room. It looked like someone had set up a tent over the couch. It was made of blankets, hung on a clothesline strung across the room, fairy lights from last Christmas strung along the blankets' edges.

 One of the blankets lowest to the ground moved, opening like a flap to reveal Emma peeking out underneath.

 "Surprise!" Emma said.

 "Indeed I am," Killian said, "what's all this?"

 "Remember when I told you about blanket forts?" Emma crawled out from under the blankets, wearing a robe and pajama pants.

 "Aye," he smiled as she walked over to him, "I take it this is one of them,"

 "Not too shabby, if I do say so myself." Emma placed her hands on his shoulders and gave him a kiss. "I figured it might be fun to do something special tonight."

 "Every night with you is special, love," Killian kissed her cheek, "I'll join you in the fort as soon as I've washed up."

 "Don't be long."

 "Wouldn't dream of it."

💕🦢💕🏴‍☠️💕

 He'd noticed when he went upstairs that Emma had laid out his own fluffy robe and pajamas pants for him, as well as his slippers, so after a quick shower he changed into those, then hurried downstairs, not about to keep his Swan waiting too long.

 Emma was waiting for him at the entrance to their blanket hideout, holding a bag of microwaved popcorn

 "That was quick," Emma remarked, "I almost didn't have enough time to make popcorn."

 Killian smiled. "You'd be surprised at how motivated a pirate can be when he's got a blanket fort and the most beautiful woman in all the realms waiting for him."

 He gave his wife a kiss on her now blushing cheek. Ever looking for a chance to be a gentleman, he took the bowl of popcorn from her so she wouldn't have to carry it herself.

 She smiled and pulled back the "door" to their fortresses and gestured for him to enter first. He did so, and she followed after him.

 He hadn't expected it to feel so much cozier than the blanket fort than it usually did in the living room- and yet, something that felt like home hit him as he walked into the blanket walled room, which contained the couch, a pile of pillows and blankets in front of it, and more fairy lights around the inside.

 "In the spirit of nostalgia," Emma said, taking his hook in her hands and dragging him across the fort by it, "we'll sit on the floor."

 "And color in a coloring book while eating fruit loops?" Killian joked as he followed Emma to the pile of pillows and blankets in front of the couch

 "I was thinking I could pull up a movie on my laptop, and maybe we could have popcorn and snuggle instead," Emma said.

 "Aye, I like that plan," Killian smiled.

 Emma took a seat on the floor, and Killian followed her down. He found a comfortable position reclining against the back of the couch, and it soon became a lot more comfortable, as Emma sat down next to him, nestling into his arms like they were the only place she could possibly belong.

 Emma pulled out her laptop.

 "What movie are we gonna watch tonight, love?" Killian asked.

 "I don't know," Emma said, "picking which movie we watch every time is such a huge responsibility."

 Killian could tell she was being sarcastic, but he still understood the sentiment. As much as he wished he could be more helpful in picking movies, he really knew nothing about the topic in question at all.

 "In the name of nostalgia," Killian offered, "maybe a movie you liked as a kid?"

 "That narrows it down," Emma rolled her eyes, then looked at him and smiled as she added, "but I appreciate the suggestion."

 "I just wish I could be more help."

 "You're all the help I need," Emma said, patting him on the leg.

 Killian pressed his forehead against the side of her head and took her hand. "And you're all that I need." he whispered.

 A slightly flustered smile crept across her face, just as Killian had calculated would happen, and she set her laptop down and turned towards him, so their noses brushed against each other.

 "You're all I need too," Emma said.

 "The most incredible woman in all the realms needs an old washout like me?" Killain thought, shaking his head and smiling.

 "What?' Emma asked.

 "Have I told you recently that your eyes sparkle like the morning dew on the grass?" Killian asked, brushing his hair out of her face with his hook, "Or that your smile is like the silver lining in the clouds after a week of storms? Or that your hair shines like the sun in winter, and that flush of red creeping across your cheeks right now is the most beautiful color I've ever laid eyes on?"

 Emma placed her hand on his neck.

 "I don't know," she replied, "have I told you recently that your eyes are like a dip in the lake in the summer? That your hair's like a field of flowers that I just wanna run through," and she slid her hand back and her fingers charted their courses already through his hair, "and that your lips are like a ship, like a home I want to fall into?"

 Now he was blushing too, trying as he may to keep his cool.

 "I believe you have, love," he said.

 "Have I?"

 "At least once or twice- but about that last line," he then tapped her lips, then his, with the flat of his hook, "something about falling into my lips?"

 "Oh?" Emma leaned forward, her smiling lips hovering next to his, just close enough to drive him mad. "And what was that?"

 Killian smiled, "I think you know," he raised an eyebrow.

 "Do I?" she raised an eyebrow in return. "Do I really?"

 "Now you're just toying with me," he said, "you know how it gets to me when you play coy with me."

 Emma's smile widened, "You wanna kiss me so badly it's almost pathetic."

 "I don't want to kiss you badly," he said, letting go of her hand so he could cradle the back of her neck instead, "I want to kiss you well- oh so very well."

 Her breath spiraled across his lips like a hurricane, and her fingers twirled around his hair and twisted across his neck like they'd gotten caught in the storm. She smiled, then whispered, "Go for it."

 She didn't have to tell him twice. He pulled her lips into his like the tide draws a ship to her home port, less like he was pulling her and more like he was leading her exactly where she wanted to be anyways.

 And it was right where he wanted to be too. Half a decade ago, he wouldn't've dreamt of a moment like this one- holding Emma Swan- his wife, Emma Swan- in his own two arms, in the living room of their house, her lips on his, her hands on his neck, wanting to be here, wanting to kiss him, to hold him, to love him! In two centuries spent trying to get what he wanted, he never would've guessed that what he wanted was as simple and beautiful as this.

 She slid her hands down to the edges of his robe, pulling him even closer than he already was, curling her lips even tighter around his.

 He shifted her ever so slightly, Emma giggling a little as he laid her down, her head now resting on the couch, himself almost laughing as well as he wrapped himself around her. His lips stayed on top of hers, his face on hers, his chest on hers- his heart on hers.

 "Oh," she sighed. She let go of his robe, only so she could run her hands underneath it, all along his chest and back, tracing out routes she was well acquainted with. "Thanks for the help."

 "Help with what?" he asked, with a low voice, and with messy kisses as his lips danced across hers.

 Emma wrapped her arms around him tighter, pulling him even further onto her, then left his lips so she could plant a field of kisses just below his ear, before whispering a response into it.

 "I don't think I'll have to worry about picking a movie tonight."

💕🦢💕🏴‍☠️💕

[cerase11a]

All Of The Girls You Loved Before | Regina Mills

I just posted a Regina Mills oneshot on AO3 called All Of The Girls You Loved Before <3