#in Neal speak that's like phoning and saying 'come pick me up' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avintagekiss24 · 4 years

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daddy’s girl > andy barber

|| pairing: andy barber x black!reader

|| word count: 4,458

|| warnings: DD/lg, age play, smut, sex, vaginal fingering, thigh riding, praise kink, language words

|| note: this is based on @honeychicanawrites incredible headcanon about being andy’s little and having to deal with neal flirting with you while at work. i hope this is okay... this is my first DD/lg fic, so I’ve been obsessing over getting the details right.. which i hope i did...

gifs are from google. if you made them, or if you know who did, let me know :)

You stand at the copier, biting down on your lip as you zone out while the loud machine runs. It beeps after a second of it being finished and you blink, grabbing your copies before you turn and sit your stack on the counter behind you. You grab the stapler and start separating the copied pages, stapling together a small packet before you move onto make a new one.

You jump and gasp when a hand slips up your skirt and drags along your thigh, “Andy, stop it.”

A broad chest is soon crushed to your back, two hands are around your middle, and two lips nip at your jaw before skimming upward to nibble on your earlobe, “I’m so glad you work with me, baby. I get to tease you all day.”

You click your teeth and roll your eyes playfully, pushing your back into him to try and get him to back away, “You want me to keep working for you, don’t you? We can’t get caught!”

“We won’t,” he whispers as his hands move up to cup your breasts, “Who’s gonna catch us?”

You turn to face him, your eyes wide, your mouth open as you try to speak but before you can, his lips are on yours. He kisses you hard and cups the back of your head with his large hand, pulling you closer (if that’s even possible). You moan, running your hands up his forearms and biceps until they rest on his shoulders. You accept his tongue into your mouth, letting it run along yours before he sucks on it softly. He pulls away from you, but not very far, just enough so that he can lick the inside of your mouth and your top lip.

“Tell daddy you like working with him.”

His voice is so deep, so firm, that it sends a shock right to your core. You feel yourself slipping into your little space at just the name tripping off of his tongue. Daddy. You love making your daddy happy, any time, and usually any place, but... You toss your eyes around and bite down into your lip, “Andy,” you whisper, starting to rock your foot back and forth to resist the urge.

“You’re right,” He groans, resting his forehead to yours, “You’re just so fucking cute.”

You giggle, throwing your arms around his neck, “Maybe we can take a long lunch,” you suggest, kissing his cheek, “You can buy me a happy meal.”

“Sounds like a deal, baby girl.” He chuckles, pulling you back in to kiss your forehead.

He starts to pull away, but you stop him, grabbing his wrist, “You can finger me now, though.” You shrug, “If you want.”

He raises his eyebrow as a smirk crosses his face, “Goddamn, I love you.” He says, slipping his hand around your waist. He pushes his large hand into your panties, his middle finger sliding between your lips to tease your slit.

You grip the lapels of his jacket and grip them in your hands as he forces your legs wider. He plays with you, flicking and rubbing his fingers over your clit until your dripping - which takes little, to no time at all. He teases your opening with his middle finger, then pushes three of his thick digits inside of you, making you squeal.

“Fuck,” you squeak, “Andy.”

He pumps his fingers hard, his palm slamming against your clit as he fucks you up against the supplies counter. He starts to nibble on your neck again, teeth and lips nipping and biting, sucking and licking as you drop your head to his shoulder. He gets a firm grip around your waist with his free arm as he curls his fingers inside of you, massaging your insides with the tips of his fingers.

You slam your eyes shut and bite down on his shoulder, his jacket still balled in your fists. You groan loudly, but Andy is quick to cover your mouth, “Shhh, shh, shh,” he coos into your ear, “Quiet, baby.”

He grabs your hair, pulling hard on the ends to tilt your head up towards his. He stares down at you, his warm breath washing over your face as his blue eyes pierce your brown ones. His tongue snakes out from behind his pink lips to lick your mouth, from your chin, all the way up to the tip of your nose slowly as he continues to pummel your tight, little pussy with his fingers.

You let your head go limp, your eyes close as your body rocks with his fingers - that pull forming in the pit of your stomach. Your body tightens and you hear him growl under his breath, he knows your close.

“God, you are so good,” he groans, “Come on, baby.”

You whine, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you start to writhe as a warmth starts to spread through your veins and across your skin. Just a little more… a few more strokes and you’ll -

“Andy? You in here?”

You jump at the male voice coming from outside the room. You both snap your heads towards the door, “Yeah, I uh, we’ll be out in a second. Trying to get some paperwork ready.”

“Lynn wants to see us.”

“Okay,” Andy answers quickly, anger flashing through him, “Give me a minute, will you Neal?”

“She sounds irritated.” Neal continues from outside.

“Goddamn it!” Andy hisses, pulling his fingers out of you, “Fuckin’ asshole.” He pulls your skirt down, smoothing his hands along your hips to situate your clothing. He kisses you quickly before stuffing his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean, “I’ll take care of you at lunch, promise.”

“Really?” You shriek, your eyes wide as they follow him to the door.

“It’s not me! It’s that fuckin’ prick -”

“Andy?” Neal knocks again.

“I’m coming! Jesus!”

Without another word, he pushes away from you and heads for the door. You spin around on your heels to face the wall and avoid Neal’s prying eyes as the door opens behind you. You staple some papers, trying to keep it together until the door closes again before you nearly collapse. You drop the stapler and rest your weight against the counter, dropping your head as you push out ragged breaths. Fucking Neal.

You know he did it on purpose. Lynn was just fine before he walked into her office just mere minutes ago. He’s been sniffing around your desk for weeks, slipping in little come on’s and pick up lines into your conversations, all of which you have brushed off and politely declined. He’s starting to get more aggressive - buying you lunch, walking you to the elevator at the end of the day, actively butting into you and Andy’s conversations. Andy has definitely taken notice. Their feud has intensified ten-fold since you’ve started working there to the point where you can feel the contempt between them.

Andy knows you’re all his. He knows there is nothing in this world that could ever tear you away from him - but that doesn’t stop him from getting jealous. Your stomach starts to twist at the thought of how angry he’ll be for the rest of the day, not being able to make you come. He’ll be brimming with anger, but what’s more, frustration. He’ll keep his eyes on you all day, making mental notes on every time you laugh too hard at one of Neal’s jokes, or get a little too close for his liking.

You don’t want your daddy mad.

You finish up with the packets, slowly, giving yourself some time to calm down and recalibrate before you push back out into the bullpen. You sit the stack of papers on his desk and start rearranging it slightly, putting various pens back into the small wire holder, straightening up file folders and loose papers, even grabbing a tissue to wipe away any excess dust on his computer monitor and keyboard before you exit. He likes order. That’ll make him feel better.

Your mind races as you move back to your desk, your thighs sticking together from the wetness still splashed on them. You sit, shaking the mouse to bring your computer back to life and cross your legs, squeezing them together tightly, sending another quick jolt through you. Hell, you should be the angry one. You’re the one whose orgasm was ruined. You’ll have to deal with this aching burn between your legs for the rest of the day, unable to procure any sort of release until you’re home with daddy.

If he isn’t too angry by then, that is.

Your stomach twists again. Lunch! That’s it, you’ll order his favorite lunch, that new little Japanese place. Then you two can go out to his car, drive around the block and have him obliterate your pussy while telling you how much he loves his baby girl in the backseat of that beautiful, expensive Audi. Yes. You grab your phone from your purse and scroll through your calls list, finding the number and tapping on it right when you see Andy, Neal, and Lynn emerge from her office.

Andy’s face is flushed red as he runs his hand through his hair angrily. Neal looks equally as annoyed - his hands in his pockets as he sucks on his teeth. You swallow hard as Andy walks past your desk, not even making the smallest attempt at any eye contact. Fuck. You mumble his order into the phone once the cashier answers and hang up quickly, glancing over your shoulder at Andy’s open door.

He’s slumped in his chair, his chin in his hand, his fingers crossed over his lips as he stares at his computer screen. You turn back to your computer and click on your IM’s, typing out a quick message.

We can skip the happy meal… I ordered lunch for you. That Japanese place you like.

Fine.

Your shoulders slump a little at the short response. Usually, you’d get a little emoji, or a thank you baby, never just fine. He’s mad. Goddamn Neal.

“Hey. I haven’t seen you all day.” Neal smiles as he moves towards your desk.

You take a breath and push it out through your nose before you swallow again, “I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah,” he says softly, tossing his eyes towards Andy’s office, “Barber keeps you plenty busy, huh?”

You nod, “He’s a busy man. He is the assistant district attorney after all.”

Neal cuts his eyes towards you once he registers your little dig. He smirks and sends his eyes towards the ceiling as he takes a breath. You uncross your legs and start tapping on your keyboard, hoping that he’ll catch the hint that you’re busy and leave you alone - but it backfires. You catch a whiff of yourself, your carnal scent from your still slick muscles, and cross your legs quickly again but it’s too late. You send your eyes to Neal as he squints his eyes and then quickly looks back down at you.

His brown eyes bounce back and forth between yours as a slow, sly smile spreads on his lips. He then glances back towards Andy. You sit back in your chair when he sits on the corner of your desk , unable to wipe the smile off of his face. You feel a pair of eyes on you, burning a hole in the back of your head and your stomach flips again.

Neal leans into you, sniffing the air, “That’s a wonderful scent,” he says loudly, as if he wants a certain someone to hear, “What is that?”

“Chanel no. 5.” You smile, not playing his little game.

He nods slowly, humming slightly, “It’s nice.”

You blink back at him, squinting slightly as your eyes bounce between his, “Thank you.” You respond flatly, leaning back up in your seat to grab your mouse again.

You sneak a glance up at him, blinking as you catch him staring back into Andy’s office. You turn your head, swallowing again as you glance back at Andy. He stares at Neal, an angry smirk on his face as he leans back in his chair. He blinks and shifts his eyes to you - the smirk dropping from his face as he twists back and forth slowly in his chair. Your lips part as you stare back at him, begging him with your wide eyes to not be mad - but he just turns his head and blinks back at his computer screen.

You turn back and face your computer. Fuck.

“Are you seeing anybody?”

Neal’s question makes your breath hitch in your throat. You feel those eyes on the back of your head again - feel your heart fall into the pit of your stomach, “N-no.” You answer softly, keeping your eyes firmly on your email.

Nobody knows about the two of you - nobody. You both agreed it was better that way so you could work directly underneath him. If Lynn finds out, she’ll reassign you, if not fire you all together.

“Really? A pretty little thing like you? Shit,” Neal smiles, glancing off in the distance, “Barber hasn’t tried to snap you up yet?”

You snap your head towards him, “Mr. Barber is a professional, and so am I, Mr. Logiudice.”

He throws his hands up, “I get it, I’m not implying that you aren’t. It’s just, you know, Andy has a type, that’s all.”

“What’s that?” You ask briskly, anger starting to bristle just underneath the surface.

He shrugs, “Brunettes,” he smiles again, looking you up and down, “Why don’t you have dinner with me sometime?” You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off, “You don’t work for me, there wouldn’t be any impropriety here.”

“I don’t think so, Neal. I’m just trying to focus on myself right now. Listen, Mr. Barber’s food is going to be here at any minute, so,” You stand, grabbing your purse, “I’m gonna go grab it.”

You move around the desk, tucking your clutch underneath your arm. Just as you pass by him, Neal reaches out and grabs your arm, stopping you. You turn to face him and watch as he drags his hand down your arm slowly, his fingertips caressing your soft skin as they move, “Just give me a call, hm? You have my number.”

You blink back at him, your mouth hanging open as your eyes bounce between him. You glance quickly over your shoulder but turn back just as fast, not even wanting to see the look on Andy’s face. You pull out of Neal’s grasp and take a step away from him before you hear a door slam behind you.

You turn, watching as Andy pushes past between you and Neal, brushing against him hard enough to make him stumble slightly, “What the fuck, Barber?” Neal growls.

“Mr. Barber?” You call, “Where are you-”

“I’m leaving for the day. Transfer my calls to my phone.” He doesn’t even turn around.

“But, you’re lunch, it’ll be-”

“I’ll get something on the way home.”

He turns the corner and is out of sight within seconds. You stand there, completely dumb founded, staring at the space where he once was. Neal shoves his hands back into his pockets and stands tall behind you, “Somebody is touchy today.”

You scoff, “You’re such a jerk, Neal.”

“I’m a jerk? What did I do?” he smiles, “I thought you said you were single.”

“I am.” You hiss, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Does he know that?”

You roll your eyes hard and scoff again, “Piss off, will you?”

“Oooh,” he chuckles, “Feisty.”

You stomp away from him angrily, your heels clicking against the marble floor. You feel Neal’s eyes on you until you disappear. You pull out your phone as you move towards the large front doors, pushing out into the warm Boston day. You tap on Andy’s name and bring it to your face, biting down into your lip as it rings and rings and rings.

You’ve reached Andy Barber. Leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you.

“Andy,” you whisper, “Daddy, please answer the phone. Don’t be mad at me.”

You tap the end call button and immediately call back, still getting his voicemail. You call a third time. It rings twice and then goes to voicemail. You call again - it goes straight to voicemail.

“Shit.” You whine, stomping your foot.

Tonight is not going to be fun.

----------

You pull into the driveway and park next to his Audi. Your stomach is in knots, you’ve been dreading this moment all day, but at the same time, you can’t wait to burst through the door and confess your love for him - get down on your knees if you have to. You just want him to know that no one could ever steal you away from him.

You move into the house through the back door, closing it softly behind you as you walk into the kitchen, “Daddy, I’m home.” You call.

You don’t get an answer in return. You can hear the TV playing in the living room, Eddie Murphy’s distinctive laugh filling your ears. You sit your purse on the table and start pulling at the bottom of your blouse, wrapping it around your fingers as you start to make your way into the living room. As soon as you spot him on the couch, his arms crossed over his chest, his mouth set in a hard line, his jaw tight, you drop your eyes to the floor and grab your fingers in your other hand, rubbing them hard.

You roll your ankle, pushing your foot over onto the side, rocking it back and forth as you start to fidget uncontrollably. You ring your fingers in your hand, bite your bottom lip, and blink nervously as you stare at the floor. He finally turns towards you, his eyes hard, his lips tight as he plays with your favorite pink bows in his hand.

“Come sit on Daddy’s lap.”

You bound towards him quickly. You stop just long enough to unzip your shoes, tossing them to the floor before you sit squarely in his lap, throwing your arms around his neck. He’s fuming, his face still red, his eyes dark, but he sweeps your straightened hair out of your face before he cups your cheeks, “He’s trying to take you away from me.” He whispers.

“No daddy,” you say quickly, your voice higher pitched and innocent as you start to regress further, your words slurring slightly, “I’m all yours, he’s not gonna steal me away.”

“You have his number?” He asks, squinting up at you as he recalls the conversation from earlier.

“No!” You exclaim, shaking your head vehemently, “Check my phone daddy, it’s not in there.”

His blue eyes bounce between yours, “Are you lying to me?”

You start to pout, poking your bottom lip out as you furrow your brow, “I don’t lie to daddy.”

“You better not. What does lying get you?”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, “A disappointed daddy.” You hate disappointing him.

“And?” He presses further.

“No tweats for a whole day.”

He nods, taking a deep breath before he pushes it out of his nose. You play with the hem of his shirt, casting your eyes away from his and down to your fingers, “Please don’t be mad at me, daddy.” You say softly.

He clicks his teeth after a few seconds, “I’m not mad at you, baby. It’s that fucking asshole, Neal. He just fuckin’,” his words trail off as he sends his eyes towards the windows, his entire body tensing beneath you, “Daddy’s sorry, baby.”

“It’s otay,” You whisper, “He’s not gonna steal me away, daddy. Pwomise.” You reassure him, throwing your arms around his neck to hug him, “I’m all yours, forever and ever.”

“No he’s not,” he says softly, rubbing your back, “He can fuck right off. You are all mine, little one.”

“All yours,” you nod slowly, grabbing the collar of his shirt and twisting it around your finger, “I love you, daddy. You’re the best daddy a girl could have.” You whisper, your eyes cast towards his lips, your voice soft and small.

He smiles softly at you, cupping your face in his large hands again, “And I love my baby. Turn around for daddy, hmm.”

You do as he says, turning in his lap to face the television. You bend your legs behind you, straddling him as he starts to play with your hair. You smile softly as you feel him slide his fingers against your scalp, pulling your hair into two separate sections. He starts to braid it slowly, a french braid that starts at your hairline. You wiggle your hips down onto his thigh, gripping his jeans in your hands.

You start to roll your hips, grinding down onto his thigh as he finishes the one braid, tying off the bottom with your favorite pink bow. You bite down into your bottom lip again and let your eyes flutter shut as you grind against him, moaning and grunting softly as you start to cop a feel against your swollen, sore clit.

He moves to the second section of hair as you let your head fall back on your neck , moaning loudly for the first time, “Look at you,” he says sweetly, twisting and turning his fingers as he braids your hair, “Such a good little girl. You gonna show me who you belong to? Is that it baby?”

You nod quickly as your hips quicken and you drag in a breath between your teeth. You ride his thigh quick and hard as he finishes the second braid. He skips his fingers up your back, one hand gripping your shoulder while the other slips around your side to grab your tits. You run your tongue over your teeth as you groan and reach up to grab his hand on your chest. He teases your nipple through your silk blouse, rolling it between his digits before he just rubs it with the pads of his fingers.

He sits up, crushing his chest to your back as he kisses a trail from the back of your neck up to your ear and grabs it between his teeth. Your hips start to move faster, pushing down harder against his firm thigh as you rock back and forth. He drops his hands to your hips, helping to guide you as his fingers press into your flesh. You start to whimper, throwing your head back as you push yourself closer and closer to a sweet, long overdue release.

“Ooh, daddy,” you pule, your eyes slammed shut as a fire burns in the pit of your stomach, “Daddy, I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make me come so hard, daddy.”

“That’s right, baby girl,” he coos, his breath thick with lust and desire, “You come for Daddy like the good little girl you are.”

He pinches the inside of your thigh as you grind against his jeans, slowly applying pressure until your orgasm blooms through your tense body. You scream out into the room as the waves crash over you, each one stronger than the last. Your hips thrash against his thigh as your clit contracts hard - almost painfully so. Before you know what’s happening, you’re suddenly laying on your back on the couch, your legs thrust open as Andy pushes your skirt up your hips.

He fumbles with the button of his jeans, popping it quickly before he unzips himself and pulls his hard cock free. He slaps his dick against your sticky flesh before he slams into you as your orgasms still rumbles through you. He pumps into you hard, making you squeal as each thrust pushes you up the couch. You start to rub your clit with your fingers, quick circles as your hips jump uncontrollably up into his as your synapses continue to fire.

Your daddy always fucks you so good when he’s angry - taking out all of the frustration with Neal on your perfect, pretty little pussy, “You are mine. This cunt is mine, you hear me?” He grunts.

“Yes, daddy!” You mewl, “All yours. I’ll always be your little girl.”

“That’s right. All mine. My little girl.”

He inhales sharply, hissing and grunting as he continues to pound his hips into yours, your hot, wet muscles gripping his cock tight. You start to come again as you rub your clit in hard, fast circles, your pussy squeezing down on him. He grunts one last time and suddenly you're all warm inside as he starts to spill into you. His cock jumps as long, hot ribbons of his spunk coat your insides.

He bucks into you with each spurt of his cock, until he’s milked dry and your second orgasm recedes back into the depths of you, “You are such a good little girl, baby,” he slurs, “Daddy’s best girl.”

He pulls you back up into his lap, staying buried deep inside of you, and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You both pant loudly as you try and catch your breath - you close your eyes as you rub your face against the cotton of his t-shirt.

He rubs your back with both of his large hands as he soothes you, “You did so well for me, baby. You make daddy so happy.” You smile into his chest, “You know you’re safe with daddy, right? I’ll never let anybody take you away from me.”

“I know. Daddy loves me.”

“Daddy does love you.”

You smile wide, sending your big eyes up to his, “And I love my daddy.”

He kisses the top of your head, “You want your blankie?”

You nod slowly. He pulls you off of him and situates you on the couch, jogging up the stairs quickly to grab your favorite things. Within minutes, you are back on his lap and in his arms, his cock snuggled deep within your pussy, your body wrapped up in your favorite pink blankie with your small brown teddy bear in your hands. He leans back into the couch as he holds you to him, still running his hands up and down your back as the two of you settle into Beverly Hills Cop playing before you.

“Thirty more minutes and it’s bath time, okay? I’ll give you a treat before bed, and read you a story.”

“Go’dfish and apple juice?” You ask, smiling up at him.

He kisses your lips one, two, three times before he bops your nose, “Anything for my baby girl.”

You nuzzle back into his chest and let out a deep, content sigh. Nobody can ever steal you away from your Daddy. Ever.

#andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber x black!reader #andy barder x reader #andy barber x you #defending jacob fanfiction #avintagekiss24

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stahlop · 3 years

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The Night We Met

Summary:

Ever since Emma and Neal started dating, his roommate, Killian, has always been a jerk. But now that Emma and Neal have broken up, will she see Killian in a different light? Especially when she finds out the truth about why he's always hated her?

Rated M

Also on A03

Happy belated birthday @mariakov81! I have finally finished your birthday fic. I hope you enjoy this college/enemies to lovers/miscommunication au.

Thank you @ultraluckycatnd for being my beta on this one.

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“Ruby, I’m tired, I really don’t want to go to this party,” Emma whined as Ruby walked through her door.

“Too bad,” Ruby trilled at her. “You promised. You’ve been working like a dog. And besides, maybe you’ll get yourself laid tonight.” She smiled her wolfish grin at her.

“Ruby, I don’t need to get laid. I’m perfectly fine!” Emma huffed and settled herself back down into the couch cushions.

“Emma,” Ruby said, sitting next to her on their overly plush couch. She threw back her red tinged, brown locks, and grabbed Emma’s hands from where she’d had her arms crossed over her chest in indignation. “You have not been with anyone since you and Neal broke up. Not even a one-night stand or a rebound to get over him. I know he hurt you..”

“He fucking cheated on me for half of our three year relationship, Ruby!” Emma said, pulling her hands back and willing the tears that pricked her eyes not to fall. She wasn’t going to get upset about fucking Neal again. “Thank goodness I always insisted on condoms even though I was on birth control. Who knows what kinds of diseases he could’ve picked up.” The memory of finding Neal with another woman in their bed was seared into her memory. The fact that he’d apparently been cheating on her with multiple women over the course of their relationship made her feel like the biggest failure on the planet. But Emma always got left, always, so she really shouldn’t have been too surprised.

“I know what you’re thinking, Emma Swan, and it’s not true. You did not deserve this.” Emma raised her eyes to look at her roommate. How the hell could she always read her mind? “I know you,” Ruby said as if she had, in fact, read her mind. “I’ve known you since we were 15 and Granny took you in off the streets, fed you, and never let you leave.” Emma smiled at the memory. As a 15-year-old foster kid runaway, Emma had tried to take some food from Ruby’s grandmother’s diner dumpsters, but had been caught by Granny herself. Emma had thought she would call the cops on her, as had been her experience, but instead, she called 15-year-old Ruby down from the apartment over the diner and together, they had made what Emma had constituted as a feast (really just grilled cheese, steamed broccoli, onion rings, a hot chocolate with whipped cream, and a piece of cherry pie for dessert). Emma had made to leave as they’d done their good deed for the day, but they insisted on Emma staying in their spare room (and with a stern warning from Granny that if anything were missing in the morning, she would hunt her down). And somehow, Emma had fought the urge to run, and eventually, Granny ended up getting permission to foster her, and she had never left. Now she and Ruby were finishing up their senior year of college and Emma did not need her foster sister to try and convince her to go to some end of the year college house party.

“Look, Neal was a raging douche. I’m just sorry he had to break your heart for you to see it. But it’s been six months, Emma. It’s time to end the wallowing and come out!” Ruby gave her a stern look and Emma knew she was done for. She could never say no to that look, and Ruby knew it.

“Fine!” Emma practically bolted off the couch. “But don’t expect me to have any fun,” she warned as she headed off to her bedroom to change.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ruby said, waving her hand behind her as she went through the door of her own room.

-------------

Emma sighed a breath of relief as she sat down in the recently vacated spot on the couch. There was a couple making out on the other end of the couch, but as long as they didn’t invade her space, she wasn’t too worried about them. She’d been making the rounds with Ruby for the past hour and the heels that she’d picked out to wear were not being kind to her feet whatsoever.

She had just grabbed her phone out of her wristlet, flicked her blonde hair back behind her, and was just about to check the time when she heard his voice.

“Fancy seeing you here, Swan.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she knew more would be coming. “This doesn’t really seem like your scene,” the heavily accented, British voice continued on.

“And what exactly is my scene, Jones?” Emma didn’t even look up from her phone, just opened it up and started to scroll through Instagram so that she didn’t have to actually speak to him. She groaned when she felt the couch dip next to her. She glanced past him to where the couple had been making out just seconds ago, but it seemed as if they’d decided to take their activities to someplace more private.

“Aren’t you usually at bars or at Neal’s place?” Emma wasn’t sure if he was asking a genuine question, or if he just didn’t have a good zinger for her (which was pretty much his thing). But it was obvious from his answer that he didn’t know some important information.

“Neal and I broke up,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant and not like her heart was still breaking six months later. It wasn’t even Neal she was upset about, it was the being lied to and cheated on part that still got her upset. That she had put her heart out there and Neal had essentially stomped all over it, making her feel like that lost girl all over again. She looked over at him expecting to see an ‘I told you so’ smirk on his face, but instead, he looked rather upset.

“I’m sorry, Swan,” he said, a solemn expression washing over his face. “I truly am. I know how happy you two were.” Emma almost burst out laughing.

“Are you mocking me, Killian?” She wasn’t angry, just confused. “Because I seem to recall you not liking me at all when Neal and I were dating. Considering you were his roommate for most of the time we were together, I rarely ever saw you. And when I did you showed your disdain toward me pretty flagrantly.” Great. Now she was all riled up again. The last thing she needed tonight was to get into an argument with Killian Jones who had been the bane of her existence when she and Neal were together.

The expression on his face morphed from concern to pure anger after her little outburst. “I don’t even know why I try with you, Swan.” He pushed himself up off the couch and started to walk off before he stopped sharply, turned around, and came back over to her.

“I don’t know what I ever did for you to be so combative towards me, but now that you're not with Neal I don’t have to put up with it anymore. Go screw yourself!” Emma watched in shock as he stalked away from her and started up the stairs. The few people who were in the room with her all had looks of disbelief on their faces at the scene that had just transpired. Emma felt her whole body start to flush in embarrassment before she realized that she hadn’t done anything wrong.

Who the fuck does he think he is? she thought, her embarrassment now turning to anger. She and Killian had always had an antagonistic relationship. They had never gotten along. Well, technically, that wasn’t true. She’d actually met him before Neal as they’d had a class together sophomore year, but they’d only made small talk at that point. They’d flirted a bit and she’d thought he’d been interested, but then Neal had asked her out instead and Killian had made it clear that not only had he not been interested (what with the girlfriend Neal told her he had), but that he really didn’t like her at all. Every time she’d go over to their apartment, no matter what she said, he retorted back with some kind of insult or sarcastic comment. It had almost been a relief when he’d moved out a year and a half into her and Neal’s relationship.

“You try with me?” she asked incredulously, running after him up the stairs and trying not to knock over any of the, most likely, drunk people who were congregating there. Killian turned around toward her, his blue eyes flashing angrily at her. He looked like he was going to say something back to her, but then his whole body deflated with a resigned sigh that said ‘Great, I guess we’re doing this.’ And before Emma could even comprehend what was happening, he’d grabbed her arm and pulled her into an empty bedroom right off the stairs, locking the door behind them.

“Did you know?” she asked before he could get a word in.

“Know what, Swan?” Killian asked as if this whole thing was an inconvenience for him, even though he was the one who dragged her into the room.

Emma let out an exasperated sigh. “That Neal was cheating on me?” Killian’s eyes went wide for a split second before he tried to cover it up with a look of disbelief, but that was enough for Emma to see that, yes, he indeed knew that Neal had been cheating on her.

“Wow,” Emma said, trying to blink back the tears that had started pricking her eyes, all the fight leaving her body. “I knew you hated me, but I never expected you to sit idly by while Neal cheated on me.” She sank down on the bed and proceeded to use the heel of her hand to try and stop the tears from actually falling. She glanced a look at Killian, expecting to see him gloating or a mirthful smile gracing his lips, but instead, he looked absolutely crestfallen.

“I had my suspicions,” he began, running his hands through his hair, making it stand straight up and yet still making him look devilishly handsome, not that Emma was noticing. Nope. She was too upset to notice how Killian looked. “I confronted Neal about it and he told me to mind my own business. That’s why I moved out. I may be a bit of a scoundrel, Swan, but it’s bad form to cheat.” He made a move to sit down next to her on the bed, pausing to silently ask permission before she nodded yes and the bed dipped next to her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you even suspected?” Emma asked. She was staring at the god awful bedspread they were sitting on. It looked like it was denim with rhinestones all over it. How could that be comfortable to sleep on? She felt the bed shake and saw Killian scratching behind his ear, a nervous tell she’d noticed over the years. She wondered why he was nervous talking to her right now.

“Honestly, Swan, I figured you wouldn’t believe me. I mean,” he paused for a moment as if he were going to reveal some big unspoken truth between them, “you did choose him over me. I didn’t want to come off as jealous and petty.” She nodded as if that made sense, but then realized it made no sense.

Jealous and petty?

Chose Neal over him?

“What the hell are you talking about, Killian?” The sadness that she’d been feeling was replaced by utter confusion.

Killian took a deep breath as if he couldn’t believe they were going to discuss this. “Look, I know you always felt a bit uncomfortable about me being Neal’s roommate, since you rejected me so grandly. I guess that’s why I was always so sarcastic toward you -”

“No, seriously, Killian,” she said, cutting him off, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. When did I reject you?” She’d turned to face him now. She was sure her face had the most puzzled expression on it since this conversation had taken a turn. Killian’s eyes searched hers as if looking for the prank she was playing on him, but when he couldn’t, he continued talking.

“That night in the bar. You rejected me and chose Neal,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I know I keep saying this, Jones, but what the hell are you talking about? I never even spoke to you the night Neal and I got together in the bar. How could I have rejected you?” God, had she drank more than she thought that this whole conversation with Killian made no sense whatsoever? Killian let out a huff of frustration.

“I was perfectly happy never to bring this up, since you never did, but I guess we’re finally going to have this out. That night. At the bar. I thought we were flirting. It seemed like we were flirting.”

They had been flirting. She’d been waiting for her friends at a table by herself when she’d noticed Killian Jones from her biology class sitting with Neal at a table across the room. They’d practically been eye fucking each other from their perspective tables when Neal had walked over to her table and surprised her by asking her out instead.

“You had a girlfriend!” Emma said, accusingly. And now she was back to being angry. She jumped up from the bed, intent on leaving the room. Why the hell did he feel the need to rehash all this from three years ago? She’d felt humiliated when Neal had told her Killian had a girlfriend. She must have completely imagined the flirting that she thought he’d been reciprocating.

“What are you going on about, Swan?” he asked. Apparently it was Killian’s turn to be confused. He was wearing the most perplexed look on his face that Emma had ever seen.

“Your girlfriend, Mia, or Mina, or whatever. You were dating her when Neal and I started seeing each other, so you couldn’t have been flirting with me!” Emma was exhausted from this whole exchange. She knew she shouldn’t have let Ruby convince her to come out tonight. And here she was only, she checked the digital alarm clock sitting on the nightstand, one hour into the party and she was already fighting with Jones. And she wasn’t even sure what they were fighting about this time. Just that she felt like she was reliving one of the more embarrassing interactions she’d had with him.

Killian sat there looking shell shocked. “Milah?” he asked incredulously. Emma shrugged. “Neal’s cousin? I never dated her. I met her at a party, once. The party you came to as Neal’s girlfriend for the first time. Whatever gave you the idea I was dating her?”

Emma furrowed her brow, trying to recall that night three years ago. “Neal told me you were,” she said slowly. Killian scrunched his face in a look of confusion. He headed back over to the bed and sat down. He looked like he was thinking about something and Emma started to feel like an intruder in the room. She was about to suggest she head back to the party when he patted the spot next to him.

“Come sit, Swan. I feel like we need to clear the air about a few things.” The solemn look on his face was enough for Emma to follow his instructions. After she’d settled herself on a patch of the bedspread that did not contain rhinestones trying to puncture her through her jeans, Killian began to speak. “Let me see if I have the order of events correct from that night in the bar. You and I were flirting.” Emma attempted to interrupt him by reminding him that she was flirting, but she’d obviously misinterpreted his intentions, but he put his pointer finger to her lips to stop her. “Sh Sh Shush. It’s storytime,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“So, you and I were flirting, or, at least, I was flirting. I was flirting with you in our bio class at school and I couldn’t believe my luck that you were sitting there at that all ages college bar flirting with me. But, I wasn’t as confident back then, so when Neal offered to be my wingman and kind of feel you out about your feelings for me, I jumped on the opportunity. I sat there watching the conversation from my table. I watched you smile at him and then look over at me and my heart practically soared out of my chest that you might be agreeing to pursue something with me. And then your face fell and you looked over at me again, but this time with a little more scorn in it, and then you and Neal just kept talking and talking, and the longer I sat there the more I felt like the biggest fool just sitting there. I could tell your affections had shifted. And then Neal came back over to me after you’d finished talking and told me how you’d really been flirting with him and that you’d agreed to go on a date with him, and better luck next time.” Killian hadn’t looked at her throughout the entire part of his story, probably afraid to see her reaction to it. Probably afraid that she would be mocking him in some way since that’s what their relationship had been since she’d been with Neal, and now she understood why.

“But, that’s not what happened,” Emma said with an anguished cry. Killian’s face snapped up toward hers so fast she thought he might have hurt something. “I was flirting with you. I’d been crushing on you so hard. And then you were in the bar. I wanted to come over and talk with you, but I didn’t want to lose the table I was saving for my friends. When Neal came over, I thought maybe you’d sent him instead. But then he told me that you hadn’t been flirting, that I must have misinterpreted. That you had been with your girlfriend, Milah, for a while now, and could I possibly consider getting to know him and go out on a date with him instead. And I felt like the biggest fool,” she said repeating his words back to him, “but Neal was cute and nice and I thought, why not. And then he brought me to that party and Milah was all over you and that just confirmed to me that everything I thought had been happening between us was just in my head, so I agreed to be Neal’s girlfriend that night.” A thought struck her and she gasped.

“That’s why you’ve been so mean to me? You thought I rejected you for Neal?” She felt horrible now, knowing the truth.

“Aye,” he said, scratching that area behind his ear again. “I admit, I didn’t deal with my feelings about being rejected that well. And the fact that you never said anything about it perturbed me too.”

“He played us both. He was supposed to be your friend and instead he screwed you for a girl.” Emma had thought she’d been pissed at Neal when she’d discovered he’d been cheating, but now she was angrier than she’d ever thought she could be. Neal was the worst of the worst. And to top it all off, he had stopped whatever could have potentially happened between her and Killian from happening.

“It was part of why I moved out. Besides suspecting him of cheating on the most glorious woman I’d ever laid eyes on, I just couldn’t see you two together anymore. It hurt too much.” He gave a shy smile which looked odd on his ruggish face.

“Ugh! Neal is the biggest asshole ever. What the hell did I ever see in him?” Emma asked.

“You see what you want to see when you’re in love,” Killian answered. Emma bit her lip, replaying everything she’d just learned. The last three years had been built on a lie. Neal was the biggest asshole to the tenth degree and Killian was sitting here looking at her as if she hung the moon.

Killian was looking like a man in love.

Emma had thought he was cute back in their freshman year when he’d still had lanky limbs that didn’t seem to fit his body and could barely grow facial hair. And now here he was sitting in front her, his body lean and muscular, beautiful scruff covering the lower half of his face, and a thatch of chest hair sitting exposed from where he’d unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt (something she always had complained to Neal about when she thought she hated him, but she’d really always wanted to run her fingers through it). She looked up into his eyes and noticed that they were practically black. Only a sliver of blue iris ringed the outside of the pupil. Emma could feel her heart starting to pound in her chest. She’d hated him until only mere minutes ago, hadn’t she? Until the revelation of Neal’s manipulation had come to light. Or had she simply been masking her feelings by engaging in his hateful banter? It only took a split second for her to decide what to do.

She grabbed him by the lapels of his shirt and hauled his lips to hers. If Killian seemed surprised by this turn of events, he didn’t show it all, as he immediately started kissing her back. His scruff on her chin felt delightful, his lips were soft on hers, and his hand had threaded its way into her hair and the slight pull felt amazing. She ran her hands through his hair and reveled at how soft it felt. She broke the kiss for a moment to get some air, their foreheads resting against each other, both of them panting.

“That was…” he began.

“Long overdue,” Emma finished before she went in for another kiss. But Killian stopped her before her lips could reach his. Her heart was pounding in her ears, but for a totally different reason than it was before. She couldn’t have possibly misread the situation again.

“You don’t want me anymore,” she stated softly, pulling away from him before she could embarrass herself any further. But he wouldn’t let her out of his grip.

“On the contrary, I want you very much.” Emma bit her lip and couldn’t stop the smile that overcame her lips. “I just…” he huffed, most likely trying to find the right words to say what he wanted without offending her. “We’ve spent the last three years believing we hated each other, and I just want to make sure this isn’t a one time thing, because I never hated you, Emma.” The sound of her name, and not Swan, did things to her that she never knew just a voice could do. She gently cupped his face in her hand and gave a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Killian, I fully intend for this to be more than a one time thing. So please, just kiss me again?” And with that, he surged forward and gave in to her request.

This kiss was nothing like the last one. This one was full of want, passion, and love (yes, love; Emma may have still loathed him earlier tonight, but she would be the first to admit that there was a thin line between love and hate, and it had now been crossed).

Killian started peppering her jaw with kisses, finding a particular spot right before her ear which made her moan with pure lust. “Swan,” he growled into her ear, his breath making her whole body shiver, “you can’t even imagine how long I’ve wanted to hear you make those noises because of me.” He bit down on her ear lobe, soothing it with his tongue as she made another obscene noise that in all her time with Neal she’d never heard herself make. “Do you know what it does to a man when the object of his desire is getting off by someone else in the next room with thin walls? It was absolute torture.” He moved back down her jaw, kissing her lips again before moving to the other side.

“In all honesty, you mostly heard me faking it,” Emma laughed. She honestly never knew it could feel this good and they were only kissing.

Killian pulled away from the ear he’d been sucking on and faced her with a troubled look. “Please tell me my former prick of a roommate gave you some orgasms during your tenure together?” Emma almost laughed at the level of concern on his face, but she knew he was being serious so she held it in.

“I mean, he gave me some,” she shrugged. “But he was the only guy I’d ever been with, so I don’t really have a lot to compare him to.” Killian looked even more insulted at that statement.

“Swan,” Killian said, grabbing her hands. “You are a goddess and I’ll show you how you should be worshipped properly.” He punctuated this statement with another bruising kiss.

Emma sat slack jawed at his words. Never had anyone spoken to her like Killian did. Like she was worthy of being ‘worshipped’ as he’d put it. So she just nodded in agreement.

“Emma --”

“Killian --”

They both gave a small laugh having spoken at the same time.

“Emma, I just want you to know that no matter what happens tonight, I want to be whatever you want us to be. Whatever we become is as much up to you as it is to me.” So much more romantic than Neal’s ‘So I wanna if you wanna,’ Emma thought.

“Are you trying to make sure I’m okay with this, Killian? Because I am. I liked you back before Neal, and I thought I’d been wrong about you being this nice guy, but I still always had a thing for you, even when we were... mortal enemies.” More laughter emanated from them. “But I want this. I really want this.” She took her free hand and moved a piece of hair that was dangling over his eye away. “And I want to explore what could’ve been if He Who Shall Not Be Named hadn’t interfered for his own selfish reasons.” They both smiled at that. Emma could see his blue eyes twinkling. She thought he was going to kiss her again, but he let go of her hand and got up off the bed and motioned for her to do the same. Emma was confused until he began turning the bed down for them to get more comfortable.

“Oh, so now you’re a gentleman?” she asked jokingly.

“I’m always a gentleman,” he replied back. And then he grabbed her hand and pulled her in for a kiss. “But right now, I want to tear off this ridiculous comforter,” Killian ripped it off the bed revealing the normal looking sheets underneath, “so I can get you into that bed, tear off all your clothes, and hear you scream my name.” He growled into her ear as he tongued it. His voice went straight to her clit and she swore she might come from his voice alone.

Killian moved her hair off her shoulder as his lips began their assault on it. Emma had never been so glad she’d chosen the off-the-shoulder top she was wearing for the party that night. She started to unbutton her blouse to move things along, but Killian swatted her hands away.

“No, Swan. I will not have you ruining my fun by having you undress yourself. I intend to unwrap you myself. I’ve waited too long for this to be a quick fuck.” Emma shivered at his words. Never in a million years would she have thought Killian would have been a dirty talker. And she never realized that it would turn her on so much.

His scruff was scratching her neck in the best way as his lips went back to her neck. Her hands went to the thatch of hair peeking out from the top of his shirt and Emma decided that if she wasn’t allowed to unbutton her top, she could certainly start unbuttoning his. The chest hair was something she’d always wanted to run her fingers through. With every button she opened, more and more hair was revealed. She ran her fingers through it as Killian moved back to her mouth.

“Please, Killian,” she begged as she got to the last button on his shirt. He removed his arms from the sleeves while still keeping his lips on hers, although she could feel him smile as she begged. He continued to unbutton her blouse with his deft fingers and discarded her shirt onto the floor.

“Better?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow in the sexiest way she’d ever seen.

“Not even close,” she panted. The black, strapless lace bra she was wearing felt too constricting, and as much as Killian had wanted to ‘unwrap’ her himself, she reached behind her back to unhook the offending material. The eyebrow raised again as he stepped back to see what she had done, but then his eyes widened when he saw what was underneath her bra.

“You’re absolutely stunning, Emma,” Killian whispered in awe and before she could say anything back, he started kissing her again. This time, Emma pulled him down onto the bed with her. They found a comfortable position with her on her back and him between her thighs. His lips seemed to be everywhere: lips, jaw, neck, collarbone. He was kissing a path down to her breasts and she was rubbing her jeans against the large bulge she could feel through his.

“Someone is impatient,” he smirked into the top of her breast before his teeth clamped down over her nipple.

“Fuck, Killian!” she said as he immediately laved his tongue over the now peaked nipple. The smirk returned.

“All in good time.” He moved over to the other nipple and repeated the same movements with his teeth and tongue. Emma had never felt these feelings before. Neal had barely done any foreplay, and Emma, having not been that experienced, just figured that was normal. Now she was mentally berating herself for missing out on this the past few years. But she needed to stop thinking about Neal when she had Killian’s mouth heading south. His tongue dipped into her navel and Emma swore she was going to come before he even got her jeans off. She never knew someone’s tongue could feel that erotic on her skin.

“Is this okay?” Killian asked as his fingers came up to the button on her jeans. Emma could only nod, her mouth not seeming to work. He popped the button and Emma lifted up her ass so Killian could slide her jeans and underwear down (just plain cotton which she was highly regretting right now; at least she’d had the forethought to shave before the party). He continued to kiss down her body as her jeans slid off, leaving her completely nude. For the first time that night, Emma began to feel self conscious about the position she was in. She and Killian had hated each other up until an hour ago, was it really prudent of her to sleep with him already? Maybe they should slow things down. She was just about to voice this when his tongue made contact with her clit and all rational thought went out the window.

“Oh, God!” she screamed and her hands involuntarily went to his lucious, brown locks and pulled him even closer.

“Killian will do,” he said, smiling into her. “So wet for me, Swan.” He began licking her like a man possessed and Emma had never been this crazed from oral sex in her life. She was pretty much fucking his face and Killian seemed to be enjoying it. He sucked her clit between his lips and Emma knew she was so close. Killian took his pointer and middle fingers and slipped them into her wet heat, thrusting them back and forth until he finally found the spot that would make her come undone. “Come for me, Swan,” he growled in a commanding tone. He gave one final suck and her body exploded.

Emma knew she was mumbling nonsensical words as Killian continued to lick and pump his fingers more slowly now, bringing her down from her high. Never in all her life, not by her own hand or any other boy’s (because that’s what they all were, boys) had she ever had an orgasm so strong. Emma was vaguely aware that Killian was now kissing back up her body: a small nip to her hip, his tongue licking a stripe up the side of her stomach, his teeth grazing the side of her breast. His hand was still in between her legs easing her down from her intense orgasm.

“Oh my fucking God, Killian!” she panted out, her heart still beating frantically in her chest.

“Sounds like you enjoyed that.” He smirked. That smirk always used to annoy her, but now it was the sexiest thing Emma had ever seen. She grabbed Killian by the hair and crashed her lips onto his. She could taste her essence on his lips and it was intoxicating. Emma never thought she would be turned on by that. She was learning a lot about herself tonight. Like the fact that she was completely nude and Killian was still half dressed.

“Lose the pants, Killian.” She’d found her way to the tip of his pointed ear. Another thing she’d always found annoying about him and now she found hot as fuck.

“As the lady wishes.” He stood up and began to unbutton his pants as Emma started stroking his chest hair. He was wearing a pair of black boxer briefs underneath that did nothing to hide his erection and for the first time, Emma realized that all the sexual innuendos he’d dropped over the years were not because he was compensating for something. He could really back up everything.

“Fuck, Killian!” Emma breathed out as he pulled his boxer briefs down to meet his pants that were at his knees. Emma knelt down to pull them off the rest of the way, Killian watching her intensely, and found herself eye to ….cock. He was so much bigger than Neal, and it was nicer looking, what with the manscaping he’d obviously done. Neal had just been a hairy mess. But Killian, well, Emma never thought she’d describe a man’s penis as beautiful, but that’s what this was. She gently brushed her thumb over the tip, a hiss emanating from Killian’s lips as he sat back on the bed. She wrapped her small hand around it and looked up at him. “Is this okay?” She echoed back his words from before, and just as she had, he nodded, too much in awe that this was actually happening.

Emma pumped him up and down slowly, her thumb grazing the tip each time. His shaft was velvety smooth under her touch. She was gearing herself up to lick him; it was not something she had particularly enjoyed doing for Neal. Killian must have sensed her hesitation because the next thing she knew, he was hauling her up into his lap. She immediately became wetter the moment his cock rubbed against her already damp folds.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, love.” He brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear before kissing her again. “Besides, if you put your mouth on me, I’d probably finish there and I want to feel you around me.” Emma could feel her cheeks redden, but then started rubbing herself against him. The noise Killian made was probably the most amazing noise she’d ever heard and she doubled her efforts rubbing against him just to hear him make it again.

“One moment,” he said, maneuvering himself to grab his pants. He quickly pulled out his wallet and grabbed the foil-wrapped condom from inside, then deposited his wallet back in his pants before dropping them back on the floor. Emma was busy giving sloppy kisses along the column of his neck when she heard the foil rip, and she lifted up slightly so his cock stood in between them looking red and angry. Emma had never seen an erection look so hard. She plucked the condom from his hand and pulled it down herself (and honestly, she never thought putting a condom on could be so damn sexy).

“Ready, Swan?” he asked. Emma didn’t even give a verbal answer. She grabbed his cock, lifted herself over it, and slowly sank down on him, adjusting to his length and girth.

“Fuck!” she moaned when he was finally seated completely within her. Killian kissed her passionately, his tongue plunging into the depth of her mouth and tangling with hers. She tugged on his lower lip with her teeth, and she could swear she felt him get even harder inside her.

“You need to move, Swan,” he bit out. Emma lifted herself up, and slammed back down on him. God, she’d never felt so full in her life. She never wanted this feeling to end. She continued to fuck herself on him, her hands on his shoulders to lift herself up higher, his hands under her ass to do the same. She’d never fucked anyone like this before. Neal had always insisted on missionary style, which Emma was now realizing was probably the only way he could get off. This position felt fucking amazing and she was pissed at herself for never trying it before. But she needed something more.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she screamed as his hand moved from her ass to in between them and made contact with her clit. That was exactly what she needed. He continued to rub it as hard as he could. It was too much, yet not enough. She was almost there.

“Let go, Emma. I promise I’ll catch you.” And that was all it took. Emma lifted up off him completely and had the most fucking intense orgasm she’d ever had in her life. Even more powerful than the one he’d brought her to before. Everything seemed to go black and then next thing she knew, Killian had turned them over so she was on her back and he thrust himself back inside her.

Emma didn’t even get to contemplate how fast he’d changed their position when another orgasm rocked her due to the angle of his cock inside her and a well placed thumb on her already swollen clit. “Killian!” she screamed, her voice starting to feel hoarse from all the screaming she’d been doing. He rode her out until she finally felt him still and he grunted, emptying himself into the condom.

Killian collapsed on top of her. He was heavy, but Emma decided she didn’t really mind. She liked the way he felt. With Neal, she’d just wanted him off of her right away, mainly because he’d fall asleep almost instantaneously and then she’d be trapped beneath him. Almost as if he was reading her mind, Killian rolled off of her. Emma immediately missed the warmth of him, but he quickly took off the condom, wrapped it in some tissues from the box on the nightstand, and threw it away in the garbage can. Then he pulled her into him so their foreheads were touching, and Emma thought it was the sweetest thing anyone had done for her after sex. She kissed him, a short and sweet kiss, just to let him know that this wasn’t just sex. She hoped that it conveyed what she was too afraid to say. But then, she decided to say it anyway.

“Killian,” she began, “would you like to go out on a date...or something?” she mumbled, her confidence waning after she mentioned the word date.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you out?” Killian teased as a wide smile graced his handsome face. She blushed. After everything they’d just done and she blushed when he teased her. She had it bad. “Yes, Emma, I would be honored to go out with you. But please let me plan the date,” he said earnestly. How could she resist when he had the puppy dog face going. She kissed him in agreement.

“And now, love,” he said hesitantly, “I think you and I should get out of this bed, considering it doesn’t belong to either of us. And who knows how many other people have used this bed for this exact same purpose.” That made Emma jump up almost immediately. God, she hoped whoever's house this was they washed the sheets before they’d made the bed.

They quickly got their clothes back on (and Emma didn’t even want to think about the mess her hair probably was), and Emma pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans that had been discarded, noticing there were a few text messages from Ruby.

“Shit! Ruby’s been trying to get a hold of me. She wanted to leave half an hour ago.” She frantically started texting Ruby to tell her where she was, but Killian took the phone from her hand and deleted the text.

“Tell her you’ve gone home with someone and you’ll see her in the morning.” Emma looked at him quizzically.

“Am I going home with someone?” Killian’s cheeks went red all the way to the tips of his elfin ears and his hand went to the back of his neck.

“Only if the lady would like to.”

Emma debated making him even more nervous, but couldn’t contain herself. “The lady would like to, Killian,” she said, giving a small smile. He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing the knuckles and Emma thought she might melt on the spot. How could she have ever hated him? Oh right, her jerk ex. She quickly sent a text off to Ruby.

He unlocked the door and they stepped out into the, thankfully, empty hallway. They could still hear the party going on downstairs, and lots of moaning coming from the other rooms in the hall. They both gave each other slightly embarrassed grins.

“Come, love, let’s take this somewhere more private,” Killian said smugly; Emma nodded in agreement and they headed down the stairs… and ran smack into Neal.

He looked, if Emma was being honest, like crap. His hair was disheveled, and not in the way Killian’s was looking because of her pulling on it during sex, and there were bags under his eyes, like he hadn’t been sleeping.

“Emma!” Neal said, his face lighting up. “Boy, am I ever glad to see you.”

“Can’t say the feeling’s mutual,” Emma snapped. The euphoria she had just experienced with Killian was quickly fading into revulsion. She gave Killian’s fingers a quick squeeze so he knew she was not going to let Neal ruin their night. He gave her a squeeze back in understanding.

“Oh, come on Ems, don’t be like that,” he said, flashing that grin that always used to make her weak in the knees. Now it just made her want to vomit. What the hell did she ever see in him? Had she really been that desperate to be loved? Neal reached out to grab her hand and Emma could see the confusion when he realized one hand was occupied, and then the look of realization when he finally noticed Killian standing beside her.

“What the hell is this?” Neal asked angrily, like he had any reason to be angry. “You making a move on my girl, man? I thought we were friends!” Emma actually burst out laughing at that remark. Both Neal and Killian looked at her bewildered.

“First off, Neal,” she said, giving him a fierce push against his chest, her laughter giving way to irritation, “I’m no longer your girl. I haven’t been your girl in six months. And,” she gave him another push, “you were cheating on me for half of our relationship, so I really haven’t been your girl in a long time.”

“Ems, I can explain…”

“No, you can’t explain, Neal. And even if you could, I don’t want to hear it. And as for Killian being your friend,” she gave a glance to Killian and gave him a huge smile before returning her look toward Neal, “friends don’t steal the girl their other friend is interested in and then lie to both of them about it for years.” Another push. Neal’s face went practically white. “Yeah, we figured some things out tonight about the night we met.” She scowled at him to let him know that she meant business.

“I..” But Emma was done with this.

“I don’t want to hear it, Neal.” And with that, she walked past Neal, her hand in Killian’s to really make her point that she was no longer his.

“Your loss, mate,” Killian said with a smirk and gave a salute as Emma pulled him along. They ran out the front door into the cool spring air. When they made it to Killian’s car (a Chevelle that Emma remembered he rebuilt himself) they stopped to catch their breath. Emma could feel Killian’s eyes on her, silently watching her to see her reaction.

“Emma, I’d understand if we’ve moved too fast and you want to slow things down,” Killian said quickly. It’s as if he’s afraid that if he doesn’t say it fast enough, she’ll say something to end what has barely begun between them. Emma gets it. She walked over to him. He’s busily looking anywhere but at her, while scratching that spot behind his ear. It’s utterly adorable.

“Killian?” She’s standing directly in front of him and the surprise look on his face when he finally does look at her is priceless. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing. And I definitely don’t want to slow things down.” And with that declaration, she grabbed his face, pulled his lips to hers, and kissed him with everything she had in her. It took Killian a moment to catch up with her, his lips finally kissing hers back after a slight gasp of surprise into her mouth that made her smile, almost giggle even.

They finally separated and got into Killian’s car, both of them quietly contemplating, with anticipation, what the future held for them as they drove silently back to his apartment.

In the morning, Emma expected to feel the urge to run, to feel they moved too fast. But she doesn’t feel any of that. He pulled her in tight in his half asleep state, making her feel safe as she cuddled into his chest, and Emma wondered how she ever could have hated him the way she thought she did.

Tag List: (Let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @mariakov81 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx @qualitycoffeethings @snowbellewells @courtorderedcake @klynn-stormz @tiganasummertree @therooksshiningknight @teamhook @deckerstarblanche @onceratheart18 @the-darkdragonfly @wefoundloveunderthelight @earanemith

#happy birthday mariakov81 #csau #cs college au #cs au #past swanfire #enemies to lovers

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years

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Love, War, and Books by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 3/3 Notes:

Thank you so much for reading and going along on this journey. This 3 chapter AU took me more time to write than any of my other fics, I really stepped outside my comfort zone with this as I prefer to write original stories and struggled with an AU based on something everyone knows and loves. I haven't liked every word, but I grew to love the tale and I hope you did too.

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly

Chapter 3: The Book of You

“Well now that you’ve put her out of business, I wonder if she would come work for me? She’d be an excellent children’s book editor.”

Killian made a snorting sound, “I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t work for anyone associated with me.”

“I think I’m going to offer her a job anyway.”

“She wouldn’t be good for you; she lacks that killer instinct you like in your employees. What is it you always say, never apologize as long as you win?”

“Like you’re one to talk, you’re just as insensitive as I am, I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation.” She complained, punching the button on the elevator to their floor. “The only reason I have the chance to hire her is because you put her out of business.” She narrowed her eyes. “Who’s insensitive now?”

Killian internally groaned, watching the numbers on the elevator move slowly as Milah droned on beside him. Emma would never work for someone like her, she could never be as cutthroat as he had seen Milah behave. She wasn’t like her, or for that matter, him. Emma was a rare breed.

The elevator jerked violently to pull him from his thoughts, lights flickering on and off as it came to a shuddering halt.

“What the hell!” Milah yelled as the other occupants in the elevator began tapping on the buttons.

“I’m sure it’s just a technical issue.” He offered reassuringly. Milah pulled out her phone, dialing and waiting impatiently for someone to answer. He leaned against the wall, smiling at the woman with her young daughter. “They’ll get us out shortly, no need to worry.”

“No one is answering, how incompetent do you have to be to not know how to pick up a phone?”

“Milah, it’s possible there was an electrical outage that affected more than us, I’m sure the phone lines are busy.”

“I’ll be putting in my complaint to the city.” She squealed and Killian pushed himself down toward the floor, sitting on the ground and removing his jacket.

“I’m sure they’ll be awaiting your call with bated breath.” He grumbled to himself. “Shouldn’t be long, someone will come and get us out.” He announced to the group. “Might as well get comfortable.”

Three hours later and Milah was testing his nerves. He had expected her complaints to die down once the air in the elevator had gotten thicker and harder to take breaths, but it seemed to only intensify her anger.

“When I get out of here, I’m going to call my daughter and apologize. I haven’t spoken to her in 3 weeks, and I don’t even remember what we were fighting about.” The man beside him spoke to no one in particular. Killian smiled at the man; it was a lovely sentiment.

“When I get out of here, I’m going to apply for that job I’ve been scared to be rejected from. Even if I don’t get it, at least I will have tried.”

Milah jumped in, “When I get out of here, I’m going to get Botox.” She announced, staring at herself in her hand mirror and pulling at her skin. Killian rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what he was going to do when he got out of here.

“When I get out of here…” He began.

“Do you have my gum?” Milah interrupted and Killian exhaled, reaching into his jacket beside him to pull out his gum and toss it toward her. The moment was gone, but the second he left the elevator he did exactly what the moment called for. He told Milah it was over between them.

She barely gave up a fight, as he gathered his items, promising to return to pick up the rest of his stuff, and taking Smee out the door with him. Killian didn’t care, he was just happy he could stop pretending. He realized in that elevator that his and Milah’s relationship had always been pretend. He dated her because it was the next logical step in their relationship, they moved in together because that’s what you do when you’ve been dating for as long as they had. She was in the book business, she had contacts that he used selfishly for his own business, and beyond that they had nothing else in common with each other. It was over before it had even begun.

Killian sat down in front of his computer, he wanted to talk to Emma. She was the first person he thought about when faced with what he was going to do once he left that elevator. He needed to come clean to Emma, tell her who he was. But he knew that once he did that, it was all over. She would never speak to him again. But maybe, maybe if she got to know the real him, the real Killian Jones, maybe he wouldn’t lose her.

JR10: Tonight, I got in the elevator, something I do every day. Three hours later I got out of the elevator and Smee and I moved out of my shared apartment. It was like the smoke had cleared and everything just made sense to me. It’s a long story, full of all those little details we don’t share about ourselves, maybe one day we will.

~*~

Emma stared at the screen in front of her. He had been living with someone. She couldn’t be angry; she had been doing the same. She understood how he was feeling though, the smoke clearing. It was exactly how she felt with August. Like the world just opened to her and suddenly she got tired of playing the game. She just wanted to be happy and clearly she hadn’t been.

Lonelygirl: Change is a funny thing isn’t it? It’s like dominoes. One little thing changes and suddenly there is this chain reaction and when you look up everything around you has changed. Six months ago, when I met you online, I knew exactly who I was, what my life was going to look like, and where I would be for the rest of my life. Now I know nothing. My store closed this week. I haven’t told you I owned a store, but I did. It was a beautiful little bookstore that my mother had when she was alive. And maybe I held onto it so fiercely because it was my way of keeping her alive, but either way, it closed and I’m heartbroken. It’s like my mother has died all over again and there’s nothing anyone can do to make it right.

Emma walked down the street, looking up to see the Jones Books logo staring down at her, mocking her. She bit her lip and walked up to the door, yanking it open forcefully as if somehow her strength was going to topple the entire building to the ground.

She marveled at the size of the inside, stairs leading to a second and third floor, lights hanging in every corner, large comfortable chairs full of patrons sitting together, reading books. The place was full, she’d never seen so many people in a such a large space before. The registers were full of customers purchasing armfuls of books. She climbed the stairs slowly, stopping when she saw the children’s section.

It was a marvel, bright, colorful, with stuffed animals lying around for children to play with. She sat down on a large bean bag, tears falling softly down her face.

“Do you have the shoe books?” A woman asked one of the employees standing a few feet away from her.

“Shoe books? Who’s the author?” Emma rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know the author, my friend just told me that I need to find the shoe books.”

“Neal Streatfeild. The author is Neal Streatfeild, he wrote all the shoe books.” She announced to the pair as the tears started to come faster. “I’d start with skating shoes, though ballet shoes are just as beautiful.” She said with a snort, looking up to see them staring at her with a tentative look of concern. She wiped her nose with her sleeve and stood up, quickly exiting the building.

~*~

Killian stared at his computer. Sadness overtaking him at her words. He really was the bad guy.

“Cora and I are over.” Killian looked up at his dad.

“So soon, you just got engaged.”

“She was dating the nanny.”

He burst into laughter. “Well, that makes up for you leaving Kristen for the nanny.”

“No, Kristen was the nanny, I was with Kelly at the time.”

“Ah, so many, I lose track.”

Killian turned his attention back to his computer.

JR10: I’m so sorry about your store. I don’t know what else to say that doesn’t sound trite and inconsiderate. I hope that you will be alright.

He sent the message, but he felt sick inside.

“How’s the store? Business must be booming, and I heard that the children’s book lady finally closed.” His father poured himself a drink. “You met her; do you think she would date me?”

His father handed him a glass and Killian sighed. “On to the next, I guess.” He said with a shrug.

“Father and son, back together again.”

Killian could hardly believe that as much as he tried to not be like his father, here he was living on his boat, parked on the slip right next to where his father was currently hiding out in his. Father and son, indeed.

The next few days he went in search of a new apartment, checked in with Belle at the store, and waited anxiously for a reply from Lonelygirl. When he had heard no response from her after a week, he decided to reach out again.

JR10: Why haven’t you written back? Are you alright?

When Emma didn’t reply, he walked to the store, checking in to make sure that everything was going as expected for the new store. Business had taken off in the past week, Belle had made a very important hire, bringing in Will Scarlett from The Golden Swan to run the children’s book section.

After Killian had observed Emma in his store, listened as his employee was unable to assist a customer, he challenged Belle with the task of bringing in the best department head she could find for the children’s section. Will may not have seemed like the best option for customer services with his dry wit, his sour attitude, or his arrogant behavior, but when it came to children, the man turned into a new person. He told stories, acted out the parts, played the different voices, and children flocked to him. He was a rare find in their world.

When he returned home later that evening, he found a new message from Emma.

Lonelygirl: I’m sick. I can’t stop sneezing, my ears are clogged, my nose is blocked. I feel terrible. I haven’t left my bed in days. The worst part is that all I can do now is sit here and think about my life. Who am I kidding? What life? What am I going to do now?

Killian groaned, if he felt worse before he felt terrible now. He had ruined this woman’s life. And now here she was feeling like she had no future. He caused that. She was a bright woman with a bright future, and he needed her to know that too.

He jumped up from his chair, rushing out the door.

Ten minutes later he was standing in front of the brick apartment, staring up at the windows above him. This was a risk, but he needed to take it.

~*~

Emma lay in bed, sneezing for yet the fifteenth time that hour. She felt terrible. She closed her eyes, trying to find sleep when the buzzing forced her eyes open. “Oh God, not now.” She groaned, pulling herself up from her bed and stumbling through the apartment. The sound buzzed again, and she put her hands to her ears. “Please stop doing that.” She moaned. Pressing the button to the intercom.

“Go away.” She yelled into the box.

“Hi, Hello. This is Killian Jones.”

Emma stood back from the door like it shocked her. What the hell was he doing at her apartment?

“Go away.” She repeated. She had no idea what that asshole was doing at her apartment but whatever it was, it wasn’t a concern of hers.

“Can I come up?”

“No that’s a terrible idea. I’m sick, I haven’t been sleeping, I might be contagious so I would really appreciate it if you…”

There was a loud knock on the door she was currently leaning against. She jumped at the sound. “Hello?”

Emma stood back from the door. Killian Jones was standing outside her apartment. She looked around the room, scattered used tissue paper littering every surface, blankets draping the floor and chairs. She ran around the room, gathering items in her arms, tossing garbage away as fast as she could.

“Emma?” She heard his voice on the other side of the door. She looked down at the pajamas she was in and looked around anxiously for anything to cover herself up with. Reaching for the closest item she could find she wrapped the long coat around her and tightened the belt before reaching for the door.

Opening the door, she came face to face with her worst enemy, holding a bundle of flowers. “Why are you here?”

“I heard you were sick, I wanted to check on you.”

Emma stared at him, open mouthed. This was a new development, she didn’t think empathy was a trait of his. “You put me out of business. Are you here to gloat or offer me a job?”

“I wouldn’t think of it.” He announced, stepping into her apartment, and slipping past her into her living room.

“Hey!” She said, spinning around and following him. “I’ll have you know, I already got offered a job by your girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend actually.” He offered and Emma narrowed her eyes in his direction.

“Oh, what happened?”

“We broke up.”

“Oh, that’s terrible you two seemed perfect for each other.” She slapped her hand over her mouth. She did it again. Said something really awful just to hurt someone. That wasn’t who she was. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I said that it was really mean. I’m not like that, but every time I’m around you…”

“I know, the words just fly out of your mouth.” He offered with a laugh.

“Yes actually, but I’m sorry. Thank you for coming. But I think you should leave.” She opened the door and tapped her foot.

“I brought you flowers.” He said instead of walking out the opened door. He held them toward her, a beautiful array of snowbells. “Do you have a vase?” He turned and walked back through her house, wandering off toward the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” She argued, chasing him through the house.

“They need water, you should sit down, you’re sick.” Emma stared at him dumbfounded. What the hell was this man doing here? She sat down lazily onto her couch, staring toward the kitchen to see if she could see the man who was currently invading her life. He stuck his head out of the kitchen doorway, “Did you know that Will came to work for me? He’s a great kid. He’s the one who told me you were feeling sick. Did you know he has a PHD in children’s literature?”

Emma nodded absentmindedly and mumbled to herself. “Of course, I knew that.”

He returned to the room with the flowers and Emma smiled at the large bouquet of beautiful buds that almost lit up the room. “When did you break up?”

“What?”

“With your girlfriend, when did you break up?”

He put the flowers down, quietly speaking. “A couple of weeks ago.”

“Everyone is breaking up recently. This other person I know broke up with his girlfriend in an elevator. Or outside one or near it, something. It was stuck. And then everything was clear.” She said, her mind hazy. “When I saw you that night, at the restaurant, he’s the one I was waiting for and I was…”

“Enchanting.” He said almost reverently which caused Emma to snort.

“I was not enchanting, I was mean, you said it yourself.”

“Well, you looked enchanting” He said, before turning back to the kitchen and rummaging through her cabinets. “Tea?”

Emma nodded, “Top cabinet on the left.” She mumbled, blowing her nose into the tissue in her lap.

“Well, I was upset that night. And I was really rude.”

“I was the rude one, love.” He replied, handing her a cup.

“Yes, but I have no excuse.” She grabbed the flowers, the tea, and her blanket and walked toward her bedroom.

He followed her, “Whereas I am a horrible human being and thus have no excuse but to be rude. Correct?”

“No that’s not what I meant.” She said before sneezing violently. “I’m done being a mean person, even to you.” She crawled into her bed.

“But I put you out of business. You’re allowed to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.” She sighed.

“But you’ll never forgive me.” He added with an almost sincere expression on his face, to the point that Emma almost believed that he felt sorry for ruining her life. She knew that was ridiculous because Killian Jones was a ruthless businessman, he wasn’t sorry for doing his job.

“You don’t care if you get my forgiveness or not.”

“It wasn’t personal.” He said softly.

“It was business.” She laughed. “What does that even mean? I’m so sick of it. All it means is that it wasn’t personal to you, but it was personal to me. What’s wrong with personal?”

“Nothing.” He added seriously.

“Exactly, if anything, it should at least start as being personal.” Emma shook her head, “My head is fuzzy, I need to go to bed.” She crawled into her blankets. “Why are you here again?”

“I thought maybe we could be friends.”

“You are crazy.” She laughed.

“I know, I guess it was too much to expect. Can I ask you something?”

“Well, you’re here aren’t you.”

“What happened with that guy from the Café?”

Emma’s shoulders sagged. “Nothing.”

“But you’re crazy about him?” He asked, a look of hope in his eyes she didn’t understand.

“I am.”

“Then why don’t you run off with him? Start a new life with this lucky man.”

Emma frowned. She knew she was about to sound completely stupid. “I don’t actually know him.” He smiled at her, and Emma was waiting for the retort. “We met…” Don’t tell him Emma. “You are going to think this is ridiculous.”

“You met him online.”

Her eyes widened. “Yes.”

He pulled the blankets up to her chest, a move that suddenly felt very personal and warm. “Well, I’m happy for you both. But I think maybe you should meet him, love.”

She laughed nervously, “I don’t think I need to take advice from someone who…”

His hand slipped against her lips, and they immediately tingled from his touch. “I’ll save you from saying something else you’ll regret.” His thumb grazed her bottom lip as he pulled it away. “Get better, Emma.”

She stared at him dumbfounded. “Uh huh.”

He smiled, his blue eyes shining down at her and causing her stomach to make unexpected flips. What was happening to her? It must be the medication.

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” She repeated as she watched him retreat from her apartment and shut the door.

~*~

Killian couldn’t stop thinking about Emma as the days went by. He had almost given up hope that his words to her at her apartment had fallen on deaf ears when he got the message two days later.

Lonelygirl: I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I think maybe we should meet.

He smiled. Now he just needed to work on his relationship with her. Get her to know the real Killian Jones before he told her he was JR10.

JR10: Of course, we will meet, but right now I’m in the middle of a project that needs…tweaking.”

It’s showtime.

He left the house ten minutes early, taking the route that would get him to Starbucks. He stood in line, keeping his distance from the blonde woman at the front of the line. When she turned to face him, his mouth dropped in fake surprise.

“Emma?”

Emma stopped, “Killian?”

“How funny running into you here. Do you come here often?”

“Just every morning.” She laughed. “What are you doing here?”

“Weird, I come here every day too. Funny how we’ve never run into each other before. You look like you’re feeling better.”

She smiled. “Yes, much, thank you. Well, I should…”

He nodded, “Yes of course, nice seeing you.”

He ordered his drink and walked slowly past the table she was sitting at. Looking around he mumbled to himself. “It’s always so busy in here. Nowhere to sit.” Looking down he made eye contact with Emma and she sighed.

“Do you want to sit down?”

“Yes, thank you. How have you been?”

“Great.” She said shortly. “I’ve started writing a book.”

“That’s wonderful news. How’s that fellow of yours? Have you met him yet?”

She looked down at her newspaper. “No.”

“No? What’s stopping you?”

She exhaled loudly. “He said he’s working on a project that needs tweaking.”

“Tweaking? What does that even mean?” He paused. “I bet he’s married.”

Her mouth dropped. “No, that’s not possible.”

“Have you asked him?”

“Of course not, how do you just ask someone if they’re married?”

“Pretty sure you say, are you married?” He laughed.

When he got home that evening, he found a message from Emma that made him smile.

Lonelygirl: I’ve been meaning to ask, are you married?

JR10: How could you ask me that? I thought we knew each other better than that. Wait, are your friends telling you that I’m probably married?”

That evening, after conveniently running into Emma at her favorite diner, he casually brought up her internet friend.

“So, he didn’t answer the question?”

Emma paused and then put her hand to her mouth. “I guess he didn’t, did he?”

“Maybe he’s fat.”

“Killian!” She exclaimed. “I don’t care about that.”

“You don’t care that maybe he’s horribly disfigured or walks with a limp. Maybe he spits when he talks.”

“I highly doubt that.” She snorted.

“Why else would he be taking so long to meet you? Maybe he’s…” He opened his mouth and then closed it.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Killian, what?”

“What if he’s waiting until he gets out of prison.”

“Oh stop. Will already thought he was a murderer.”

“What’s his username?”

“I’m not going to tell you his username.”

“It might help tell who he is.”

“Fine, JR10.”

“What kind of a name is that?” He huffed.

“Maybe it’s his initials.” She offered.

“Or how many tons he weighs. Just Round 10 tons.” He teased and she burst into laughter. “Or how old he is! Maybe you found a technological genius who is 10 years old.”

“Could be an address or a location…” She laughed. “No that would be stupid.” Killian tried not to choke on his coffee. “Either way, it doesn’t matter. I mean besides being married or in prison, the only other deal breaker is the boat thing.”

“Boat thing?” He inquired.

“I could never be with a man who has a boat.” She said simply.

“I have a boat.” He said, his tone serious. “So that settles it.” She looked at him with confusion. “We’ll never be together.” He met her gaze, not breaking the contact.

“So, what is the book about?” He asked, changing the subject.

“It’s a children’s book, I know this editor from the store who wants to read it as soon as I’m done writing it. You know, JR10, he was the one who really made me think about writing.”

“You mean Mister 10 felonies committed before age 24?” he teased.

“More like Mister 10 ways into my soul.” She said almost lovingly, and he felt the desire to reach across the table and kiss her. “It’s weird how much we’ve been running into each other lately.”

“Wanna run into each other say, tomorrow, round lunch time?”

“Sounds great.” She said with a genuine smile.

Killian thought about Emma his entire walk home. The way her hair glowed bright with the sun shining on her, or how her eyes were the perfect shade of green. It was becoming harder to fight the urge to kiss her each time he saw here. He needed to tell her who he was, soon.

JR10: How about meeting me tomorrow? 4pm. The park on 88th. Where the flowers bloom in the garden and the path curves. You’ll find me there.

~*~

Emma stared at her computer. She was finally going to meet him. A part of her was excited, the other part of her was feeling something else that she couldn’t put her finger on. She’d been focused so much on meeting this man but between those moments she had formed something of a friendship with Killian Jones. It was a friendship that somehow she had learned to value.

He had offered her advice on her book, some to talk to about JR10, and in the times when they were together, a companionship that she had been missing. It was like he understood her better than anyone she had ever known before.

They were meeting for hot dogs for lunch, she was happy for the distraction from her nerves of meeting JR10later that evening. Killian would know the right thing to say to her to calm her down and prepare her for this meeting.

“Today?”

“I know right? This afternoon.”

“That’s very exciting, I bet he’s the clock maker on 82nd. You’ll never need to have your clock fixed again.”

“Stop. That guys like a hundred years old.”

His mouth grew wide. “That’s it, he’s 10 centuries old.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.” She bit into her hot dog, ignoring the way he was watching her. Lately he had been looking at her with a feeling that was almost akin to want. Which was ridiculous but also gave her butterflies for some reason.

“He was smart. He waited until you were certain there was no other man in your life that you could love.” She glanced at him and nodded but then he set his hot dog down and stared at her, his blue eyes glistening in the sunlight. “Sometimes I wonder…”

“What?” She asked anxiously, feeling like whatever he was about to say was important.

“If I wasn’t Jones Books, and you weren’t The Golden Swan, and we met…”

“Don’t do that.” She interrupted.

“I would have asked for your number, and I wouldn’t have waited until I got home to call you. I would have asked you out for drinks, dinner, and your every desire, for as long as we both shall live.”

“Killian.” She warned.

“And then we wouldn’t have gone to war, and I wouldn’t have put you out of business.”

“Killian, please don’t.” Her heart was pounding in her chest.

“Can I ask you something?”

“I need to go.” She couldn’t be standing here listening to Killian saying these words to her, not now, not when she was finally getting to meet the man of her dreams.

“How come you can forgive him for standing you up, but you can’t forgive me for this tiny little thing of putting you out of business.” He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, how I wish you would.”

“I need to go.”

“You don’t want to be late.”

She turned away from him quickly, practically running down the sidewalk to put space between them. She needed to stop herself from turning around and kissing him.

Fleeing the scene, she returned to her home to prepare for her date with JR10, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach.

Stepping out onto her sidewalk, she practically skipped to the park, she was about to meet the man of her dreams, the man who knew her better than she knew herself. Her soulmate.

She arrived early, taking her time to wander through the park, admiring the flowers, trying to embrace the nervous feelings currently building in her stomach. She stood on the path, where the curve bent around the park, adjusting her dress nervously.

“Smee.” She turned quickly, looking in the direction of the voice. A dog came bounding toward her, his leash dragging behind the pup. She bent down to pet the runaway dog when he came into view. She knew it, it was the only thing that made sense. It had to be him. He was her soulmate.

She stood up as he approached her, tears slipping from her eyes. Before she could react, he wrapped his arms around her, and she melted into his chest. “Don’t cry lonelygirl.”

She looked up into his eyes. “I wanted it to be you. I wanted it so badly.” He smiled and her heart melted as his lips touched hers.

Two lonely souls, Emma and Killian, had found love in the middle of a war over books.

#love war and books #stacy's fics #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan #captain swan fics #captain swan au #captain swan modern au

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emospritelet · 3 years

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Twisted Fate - chapter 25

Last time, Belle had the baby, and Neal and Gold had a conversation that made Gold suspect that there might be a connection with his long-lost son

[AO3]

Gold opened the door quietly, peering inside, and found Belle just beginning to stir. She ran her fingers through her hair with a yawn, struggling to sit up and wincing, and Gold hurried to her side, adjusting pillows and helping her use the buttons to change the bed position. She settled back against the pillows with a relieved sigh, sending him a grateful smile.

“Painkillers have worn off,” she said. “I feel like someone ran me over in a ride-on lawnmower.”

“Do you want me to call the nurse?”

“What time is it?”

“Almost six.”

“Oh, they’ll be around soon, I should think.” Belle yawned again. “They keep checking up on me. Is Gideon still sleeping?”

Gold peered into the bassinet, where Gideon was sound asleep, and smiled broadly.

“He is indeed,” he said. “Emma, Neal and Henry are outside, by the way. Perhaps we should wait in the cafeteria until he wakes up.”

“No, it’s fine, let them come in,” said Belle. “He’s due a feed soon anyway.”

“Okay.” He turned back to the door, and glanced over his shoulder. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Liar.”

He crossed his heart with a forefinger, and she smiled.

“Flatterer,” she amended, and he grinned as he went out.

Henry was bouncing on his toes in excitement, barely held back by Neal, and he was first into the room, followed at a somewhat more sedate pace by his parents.

“Hey Belle!” he chirped. “How are you? Mom said you’d be tired. Do you want me to read you a story?”

Belle smiled at his enthusiasm, but shook her head.

“Not just now, thanks Henry,” she said. “I had some sleep, so I won’t have any trouble getting more of it. No need for stories.”

“Hey, Belle.” Emma bent to kiss her cheek. “You look good. How are you feeling?”

“Pretty tired, to be honest,” said Belle, squeezing her hand. “You told me it would be hard work, and you weren’t wrong.”

“Worth it though, right?”

“Oh yeah.” Belle smiled as Neal bent to kiss her in turn. “I can’t believe he’s really here.”

“Is that the baby?” asked Henry excitedly, and peered into the bassinet before wrinkling his nose. “He’s so small!”

“You were that size once,” said Emma.

“Was I all pink and wrinkly like that?”

“Even pinker and wrinklier,” she said, and laughed as he pulled a face. “He’ll fill out, just like you did. Getting born is hard work.”

“We’ll be playing in the park with him and taking him for ice cream before you know it,” added Neal, and Henry grinned.

“When will he talk?”

“Probably not for a while,” said Belle. “But you can talk to him. It would be good for him to hear different voices.”

Henry bent over the bassinet again.

“Hi Gideon,” he said. “I’m Henry. My mom and dad are friends with your mom and dad. I wanted to bring you some toys, but Mom said you were too small to play with them, so we’re gonna look for something else.”

“I’m sure he’d love that,” said Gold, from his position at the foot of the bed. “You’re welcome to come over and play with him any time, Henry. And to read him stories from your book, if you like.”

“Maybe he’ll turn into as much of a bookworm as his mama,” suggested Neal.

“I may have to get new bookshelves, in that case,” remarked Gold, and they shared a grin.

Henry gasped then, straightening up and looking around. “He grabbed my finger!” he said excitedly. “His eyes are open!”

Gideon began to grumble, and then to cry, and Gold quickly went to the bassinet, lifting him out and hushing him gently as he rocked back and forth, one hand gripping his cane as he cradled his son in the crook of one arm. He was smiling, a soft look in his eyes, an air of contentment Belle had rarely seen around him. It was nice to see him happy, she reflected. For a moment she imagined how things could be for them in the future; a loving family, with good friends around them. Perhaps a sibling for Gideon, when the time was right. She suspected Gold would want more babies. She smiled at the thought of him with two small children clinging to his legs as he tried to get around the pawnshop.

“Belle.” Neal’s voice jerked her back to the present. “You awake?”

“Sorry, miles away.” She smiled, shaking her head. “What were you saying?”

“I said Gideon kind of reminds me of Henry when he was a newborn,” said Emma. “I guess babies all look the same, huh?”

Gideon started to grumble again, one arm waving.

“I think he either needs changing or feeding,” she said, and Gold nodded.

“Changing, I think. I can do it.”

“Thanks.” Belle settled back against the pillows with a sigh. “I think I need to take it easy for the next few days.”

“And so you shall,” said Gold sternly. “You’ve done quite enough. Let me take over for a while.”

“No arguments from me,” she said, and yawned widely.

Neal and Emma exchanged a look, seeming to communicate without saying a word.

“Look, we should probably go, you guys look beat,” said Neal, and Emma nodded.

“But we just got here!” protested Henry.

“Yeah, and having a baby is a lot of work,” said Neal, ruffling his hair. “Belle needs her rest. “We’ll go pick out some toys for Gideon for when we visit again, okay?”

“Okay, cool!”

“And we’ll come over in a couple of days, give you guys a chance to settle back at home with him,” Emma added. “I guess you want to get out of here as soon as you can, huh?”

“God, I can’t wait to get home!” sighed Belle, letting her head roll back against the pillows. “It’s hard to get any rest at all in this place.”

“I’ll have you out of here as soon as the doctor says it’s okay,” said Gold, and she sent him a wan smile.

“It’s Dad’s birthday tomorrow,” put in Henry. “Belle, can he have a joint party with Gideon next year?”

Belle laughed, and glanced across at Gold, whose expression had changed abruptly. He was looking surprisingly solemn, his eyes downcast.

“Well, I guess we can think about that nearer the time,” she said. “Happy birthday, Neal. I got you a gift, but it’s in the kitchen.”

“Ah, save it for when we come over,” said Neal, waving a hand. “Makes the fun last longer, right?”

“Right.”

Gideon broke into a wail at that point, and Gold wrinkled his nose.

“Definitely needs changing,” he remarked, crossing to the changing mat.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” said Neal, and bent to kiss Belle again. “See you later Belle. Enjoy being a mom, okay?”

“I already do,” she said, grinning, and kissed him back before turning to hug Emma and then Henry. “Thanks for coming. Sorry I’m such a party pooper. Next time I see you I’ll be much better, promise.”

“Just rest and relax, let Alex take care of you,” said Emma. “Oh, and ice packs really help with the pain. You’ll want some of those.”

“Hmm, can’t wait for that experience,” said Belle dryly, and grinned. “See you in a couple of days. You too, Henry.”

She flopped back against the pillows as they trooped out, calling goodbye to Gold. He waved them off before turning back to Gideon, who had been stripped of his dirty diaper but was still crying. Belle watched Gold clean him up and prepare a clean diaper. He did it quickly and efficiently, dropping the dirty one in the waste and opening the drawer where the baby clothes had been placed and pulling out a pile of clothing in soft shades of white, yellow and lilac. He picked through the sleepsuits before choosing one in yellow. Gideon wailed when he put it on, but Gold picked him up and hushed him, speaking soothing words as he rocked him gently. Gideon’s cries grew quieter, fading to snuffles and then to silence, and Gold kissed the top of his head.

“There’s my boy,” he whispered, and Belle wanted to hug them both.

“It’s time for his feed,” she said. “I’ll take him.”

Gold nodded, carrying Gideon over to her and letting her take him. Belle opened up her nightdress, cradling Gideon in her arms as he latched onto a nipple, and Gold watched them for a moment, that tender look back in his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said softly. “Both of you. I’m very lucky, Belle.”

She smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand, and he turned away to tidy up the baby clothes. Belle gazed down at Gideon as he suckled, her heart swelling with love for him.

“Did you speak to your father yet?” he asked, with his back to her, and she sighed.

“Yeah, I called him this afternoon.”

“And what was his reaction to having a grandson,” he asked, his tone very even.

“He actually sounded quite cheerful,” she said. “I showed him Gideon over the phone so he could say hello.”

Gold made a noise that might have been anything from approval to irritation.

“He says he’ll come and visit,” she added. “Maybe next week. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” he said, in that same even tone. “He should see his grandson.”

There was silence. Gold put Moe French from his mind almost immediately, replaying his conversation with Neal over in his mind. Things that Emma and Henry had said slipped into the memory, adding to the picture he was forming. The picture that couldn’t possibly be true. Vaguely, he could hear Belle speaking, and glanced around.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said I hope the nurses don’t take too long with those painkillers,” she said. “I pressed the button, but I’m not sure it’s working.”

“I’m sure it is,” he said. “D’you want me to track someone down?”

At that moment the door opened and a smiling nurse came in, file in one hand and a plastic cup with pills in the other.

“Here we are, Belle,” she announced. “Time for your meds. How are you feeling?”

Gold tuned her out as he turned back to his task of rearranging the drawer of baby clothes. It didn’t especially need it, but having a task to concentrate on was helping him to calm the stream of his thoughts and fears before they became a raging torrent that would drown him. He barely heard the nurse leave, but then Belle spoke again.

“What was that?” he asked, and heard her sigh.

“I said I can’t wait to be back in my own bed,” she said.

“Mmm,” he agreed.

“Are you okay?” she asked then. “You seem very distracted.”

“I’m fine,” he said automatically. “It’s nothing.”

“Alex…”

“Seriously, it’s nothing,” he insisted.

“Alright.”

A moment of stillness, the only sound the tiny noises Gideon was making as he fed. He could tell that Belle was waiting for him to speak, no doubt watching him out of the corner of her eye as she pretended that all of her attention was on Gideon. Gold went on folding the baby clothes, taking time to place the sleeves and smoothing out the creases with sweeps of his hands as he wrestled with the tangle of thoughts and emotions in his mind.

“Neal has the same birthday as Bae,” he said eventually.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.” He hesitated. “He’s the same age, too.”

“That’s - quite a coincidence,” she observed.

“Yes.”

More silence. He placed the folded clothes carefully in the drawer and closed it, turning to face her, his heart thumping anxiously.

“What do you know about his parents?” he asked, and Belle shrugged.

“Not much. I know his mother moved over here from England, and that she left him with Social Services when he was seven.”

Gold reeled backwards a little, as though he had taken a blow to the chest. There was a dull pain like a fist, pushing against his heart and stealing his breath.

“What was her name?” he asked numbly, and Belle shook her head.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

“And - and where did she leave him, exactly?” he asked. “Which Social Services?”

“I don’t know. He never went into that much detail.”

He nodded, beginning to pace back and forth, his heart thumping.

“Did you say she moved here from England?”

“Pretty sure that’s what he said. I - I could be wrong, it was only a comment in passing. He doesn’t really talk about her.”

“And his father?”

“He never knew his father. Doesn’t even know his name.”

He nodded again, his pace quickening. It was as though the pieces of a puzzle were sliding together, locking into place with an echoing sound deep in his brain. Belle turned her head, catching his eye as he passed and making him slow.

“Alex,” she said gently. “Please talk to me.”

“I - I don’t know what to say,” he protested, pacing rapidly. “I’m still trying to make sense of all this.”

“You think - you think you could be his father?” she whispered. “You think he’s Bae?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I mean the dates fit, but... I don’t know.”

Belle watched him pace, his limping stride brisk with agitation, his jaw tight. He shook his head, spinning on the toes of his shoes to face her.

“It can’t be true, can it?” he demanded. “I mean it’s - it’s not possible!”

“It does seem like a hell of a coincidence,” she said. “But there again fate’s a funny thing. Imagine if I hadn’t called you that day. Or - or what if we hadn’t had angry sex in your shop that time?”

He gave her a tremulous smile at that, leaning in to stroke Gideon’s head.

“Much as I hate remembering the way I acted back then,” he said. “I wouldn’t change the outcome for anything.”

“No, nor would I.”

They shared a smile, and Belle reached out to squeeze his hand.

“I suppose it’s a simple enough thing to settle,” she said. “You could ask him about his mother and what he remembers of her. What he remembers of his father, if anything.”

“Yes,” he said. “I suppose I could do that.”

“You two have already talked a little about it,” she added. “It wouldn’t be an unusual question to ask.”

Gold hesitated, pulling away from her to pace the room again before turning back, his expression uncertain.

“What if - what if it is him?” he asked.

“Then I guess it’ll be an adjustment,” she said. “For both of you.”

He nodded, still pacing, head down. After a moment he glanced up.

“It would mean Emma would be my daughter-in-law,” he said. “And - and Henry would be my grandson.”

“You’re a pretty hot grandpa, if that’s what was worrying you,” she teased, and he shot her a look that was part amusement and part anxiety.

“If it’s true,” he went on. “It’s gonna turn their lives upside down as well as ours.”

“Well, maybe,” she acknowledged. “I guess it’ll take some time to deal with. Neither of them had parents, and Henry has no grandparents, and then all of sudden it’ll be like we’ve all got more family than we know what to do with.”

Gold rocked back on his heels.

“Gideon would be Henry’s uncle,” he said, looking stunned, and Belle giggled.

“Now that would take some getting used to.”

“God…” He shook his head, his pace quickening, the cane tapping. “I don’t know how to feel about this. Do I have the right to just swoop in and change everything for them?”

“Alex…”

“He must have changed his name at some point,” he went on, gesturing in agitation. “Perhaps he doesn’t want anything to do with his past. Perhaps he’ll hate me. I - I don’t want to cause a rift with him when he’s been such a good friend to you.”

“Alex, if he’s your son…” She shook her head. “You’ve been looking for him for years! He’s spent all that time thinking he was unloved! He deserves to know that at least one of his parents wanted him!”

“It doesn’t mean he’ll want to have a relationship now, though, does it?” said Gold, a desperate edge to his voice. “Oh Belle, what if he won’t talk to me? What if he shuts me out?”

Belle took his hand again, her gaze steady.

“I can’t promise things will go the way you want,” she said gently. “But it would be better to know one way or the other, wouldn’t it?”

He nodded.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “One way or the other, knowledge is always preferable to ignorance.”

“Then you’ll talk to him?” she asked, and he heaved a breath before nodding.

“I’ll talk to him,” he said. “At least then we’ll know.”

#fic: twisted fate #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #my fic

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spinsterlocity-writes · 4 years

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The Swing of Things

Neal Caffrey x Female Reader

Summary - You and Neal go undercover can you keep it together and not derail the operation.

Word Count - 2,091 words

Warnings - crime, talk of threesomes, unrealistic depiction of FBI procedure and gadgets.

A/N - My best friend, @widdershinny wanted a Neal Caffrey fic for her birthday!

You were sitting at your desk trying to go through some numbers on a mortgage fraud case when you heard the tell tale signs of Neal being bored. Sitting next to Neal was usually fun. He was entertaining and sneaking glances at him throughout the day wasn’t a bad way to pass the time and made your crush on him grow a little each day. The only time sitting near him wasn’t fun was when he was bored, he had the tendency to sulk or or fidget.

The constant snap of Neal picking at his impressive rubber band ball was slowly driving you insane.

“Neal!” You ground out. “Will you stop that, please. I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Sorry, I’m just so bored,” he sighed.

“Wanna help me with this mortgage fraud case?” You asked hopefully.

“I’m not that bored,” he replied with his nose scrunched up.

Peter called you and Neal from the front of his office.

“Looks like we have a case, you might be saved from your soul crushing boredom, Caffrey.” You smiled and patted his shoulder.

“Let’s hope it’s interesting,” he grinned.

Jones, Diana, and a few other agents were already in the conference room when you arrived with Neal. The grins on Diana and Jones’ faces made you suspicious. You took a seat next to Jones and Neal sat on the window sill close to Peter.

“What’s with the face?” You whispered to Jones.

“Oh, you’re going to love this,” he said, trying his best not to laugh.

“Okay. Neal and Y/N we need your help with a case.” Peter said making his way to the tv screen where a pictures of a woman and a man were displayed.

“This is Miranda Digby and her boyfriend Stephen Arthur,” Peter said.

“Never trust a man with two first names,” Neal deadpanned and you chuckled.

“They’re responsible for blackmailing couples at their swingers club,” Peter continued.

“They get their targets to agree to pay to spend a night with them. When the couples refuse they threaten to post their interest in illicit activities to their social media accounts and inform their employers. They get this information by hacking their victims’ phones while propositioning them. Y/N and Neal, we need you to pose as a couple and get them to make you their next targets,” he concluded.

You coughed as you choked on your spit. “What?!” You asked as you patted your chest, ignoring Jones’ chuckles.

Peter rubbed his forehead and said, “You guys are the only members of the team they haven’t seen. Diana and Jones are already so-called members but Miranda and Stephen didn’t take to them and the agents they were with.”

“You have my sympathies, Y/N. I had to flirt with Caffrey for a case,” she said with a smirk.

“You wound me,” Neal said, placing his hand on his heart.

“We can’t do this without you guys,” Peter said, looking at you earnestly.

“You know no one can say no to you when you look at them like that, right?” You asked, slumping on your chair a little.

“I know, that’s why I do it,” he smiled.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Fine,” you replied.

The rest of the day was spent going over the plan to take down Miranda and Stephen and reviewing there membership records. Fake social media accounts, employment and bank records were set up for you and Neal. You were making contact the next night. When the couple tried to blackmail you, Peter and the rest of the team would come in and arrest them.

You entered the infamous van wearing your favorite first date outfit. It flattered your favorite parts and minimized the parts you’re not so happy with. Neal turned as the door opened, his eyes widening slightly.

“You clean up nice,” he grinned.

“I don’t look like a FBI agent when I’m off the clock, Caffrey,” you rolled your eyes.

“You don’t look bad when you’re at work,” he replied. “You just look professional.”

“I hope you have better compliments than that when we’re inside,” you chuckled.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” he said with a dazzling smile

You tried to ignore the heat in your cheeks and gave Neal a once over. He wore a charcoal gray suit, baby blue shirt, and black tie. He looked dashing, as always.

“You look alright too, I guess,” you smirked.

Neal shook his head and chuckled.

Peter handed you an earpiece and a watch with a recording device. “Ready?” He asked.

“Ready,” you nodded once.

“Jones, Diana, and a few other agents are already inside. They’re waiting for my signal to take Stephen and Miranda down. You’ll be fine,” Peter assured you.

“Thanks, boss,” you smirked. Peter rolled his eyes and smiled.

You and Neal exited the van and crossed the street to the club. When you arrived at the front door he placed his hand on the small of your back and your stomach fluttered. This May be harder than I thought you said to yourself. You entered the club and saw people mingling and drinking, nothing suggested the nefarious dealings of the club owners. After you reached the bar and ordered drinks you covertly scanned the room for Miranda and Stephen.

You leaned close to Neal and looked at him lovingly.

“Miranda is on your six,” you said caressing the hair behind his ear.

Neal took your hand resting on the bar and played with your fingers and gave you a soft smile.

“Stephen is on the other side of the room, three o’clock. He looks interested,” he said and moved closer to you.

Neal nuzzled your neck as his hand slid down your back and stopped just above your behind. You gasped as your stomach fluttered again. He looked up, made eye contact with Stephen, and smirked. You felt his heart beating rapidly against you.

“You okay, Caffrey? Your heart’s beating awfully fast,” you whispered.

“I’m fine. My heart always beats a little faster around you,” he pulled back and looked you in the eye. You gulped. “Stephen is signaling Miranda,” he said.

You pushed yourself even closer to him and rested your forehead on his shoulder. Your mind was reeling from his confession and you wondered if it was just part of the act. You raised your head and gave Miranda a shy look. She looked to your left and tilted her head towards you and Neal.

You pulled away from Neal and looked at the floor.

“Miranda just signaled back. Do...do you mean it?” Neal lifted your chin with his index finger and you looked into his eyes.

“Every word,” he replied with a soft smile and ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

You opened your mouth to speak but were interrupted by Stephen.

“What a lovely couple,” Stephen gushed as he put a hand on one of your shoulders and the other on Neal’s.

“Absolutely stunning,” Miranda replied and looked you and Neal up and down.

“Thank you,” you said shyly.

“Can we buy you a drink?” Neal asked as he shifted and put his arm around your waist.

“No need, we own the place,” Stephen bragged with a smile. “Your drinks are on us,” he said, removing his hands from your shoulders.

“Thanks so much,” you smiled and batted your eyelashes.

“Yes, thank you. That’s very kind,” Neal smiled.

“I’m Stephen Arthur and this is my other half and business partner, Miranda Digby,” he smiled and shook your hands.

“Pleasure to meet you both! I’m Nick Halden and this is my other half, Amanda Gordon,” Neal beamed.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled.

“Miranda and Amanda! What a pair! I feel like we were destined to meet,” Miranda squealed.

“Would you like to join us somewhere a little quieter so we can get to know each other?” Stephen asked.

You looked at Neal and smiled. “What do you think, honey?”

Neal chuckled and pulled you closer to his side. “It sounds like a party,” He grinned.

Stephen and Miranda led you into a private room. The red walls and low lighting were supposed to ooze sex appeal but to you it just felt sleazy. Stephen and Miranda took a seat in chairs in front of the coffee table and sofa. You and Neal made yourself comfortable on the sofa. You tried not to think of all the disgusting things that may have happened on it.

“So, what brings you here?” Miranda asked as she crossed her legs.

“We heard about this place through word of mouth. We’re new to this and a friend suggested we come here,” Neal said, putting his arm around your shoulders.

“Oh really, who? Stephen asked as he shifted in his seat.

“Greg Harrison,” Neal smiled.

“How is Greg? He hasn’t been in for a while,” Miranda said.

“He’s fine. He and Ariana found a lovely couple to spend time with,” Neal replied.

“Oh, I’m glad. They are wonderful,” Miranda beamed.

“So, would you mind telling us what you’re interested in,” Stephen asked as he ran his hand up and down Miranda’s thigh.

“Well, Amanda was curious and I like to watch,” Neal said as he caressed your arm.

You were going to kill Neal. You were going to get a snack because operations always made you hungry, then you were going to go to June’s and kill him.

“It’s always the shy ones,” Stephen said and licked his bottom lip.

“So you’ve never done this before,” Miranda asked.

“Not with a couple, no,” Neal smirked.

“He’s watched me with men and women but never a couple. It’s something I’ve been dying to try,” you replied with a sultry look.

Stephen rose from his chair and sat down beside you. “I think that can be arranged,” he said as he ran his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Say when and where,” you replied in a breathy voice and looked down at his lips.

“There’s just one teensy little thing,” Miranda interrupted as she swirled her glass around.

“There is? What?” Neal asked.

“The fee,” Miranda smiled.

“Do you mean membership dues?” You asked.

“There are those and the fee to be with us, specifically,” she replied.

“How much?” Neal asked with an arched eyebrow.

“$20,000. And don’t say you don’t have the money we have all of your bank information,” Miranda sat back in her chair with a smirk.

“What?! How?!” You balked.

“This handy device right here,” Stephen said and pulled some sort of skimmer or cloning device out of his pocket.

“That’s right. Pay up or we inform your bosses and all your little friends on social media about all the naughty things you’re into,” Miranda smirked and crossed her arms.

“Honey,” you looked at Neal and appeared scared out of your mind. “I can’t lose my job! My family follows me on some social media! They can’t find out about this!”

Neal kissed the top of your head. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Fine, we’ll pay,” he sighed.

Miranda pulled her phone from her purse, entered something and showed the phone to you and Neal to verify your bank details. You both nodded.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” she said with a cocky smirk.

“FBI, put your hands up!” Diana and Jones yelled as they burst through the door with two other agents.

Stephen and Miranda were marched out of the club. You and Neal followed behind them and the other agents. Once outside you took a deep breath and walked away from the commotion.

“You okay?” Neal asked.

“Yep,” you nodded. “Be honest with me. Did you really mean what you said in there?” You asked, looking Neal in the eye.

“What? That I like to watch?” He asked with a smile.

“Neeaallll. Be serious,” you tried to scold without laughing.

“Okay, okay. Yes. I have a massive crush on you,” he admitted with a small smile.

“Oh,” you replied, looked down at the ground, and rubbed the tip of your shoe along the pavement. “I might just have a massive crush on you too.”

“Really?!” Neal grinned.

“Mhmm.” You shrugged and looked up at him.

“Y/N, would you like to go on a date with me?”

You took a deep breath, pretended to think about it, and exhaled.

“I’d love to,” you smiled.

You both walked back towards the van. “We’ll have to look up the policy on co-workers dating while working for the FBI,” Neal said.

“Let’s just see how this first date goes, Caffrey,” you laughed.

#neal caffrey x female reader #neal caffrey x reader #neal caffrey fanfiction #white collar fanfiction

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hookedonapirate · 3 years

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Summary: The Jones brothers are polar opposites. Liam's the safe and honorable one, straight-laced and straight as an arrow. The good son.

Killian's the dangerous one, the bad boy with tats, leather jackets, a motorcycle and a questionable past.

The only things they have in common are panty-melting sea-blue eyes, the flat they share in Storybrooke and a rare blood type.

Oh, and apparently their taste in women.

Or rather, one woman.

Feisty.

Blonde.

Gorgeous.

Green-eyed Goddess.

Killian saw her first, but she chose his brother—the nice guy over the playboy. And even though she’s dating his brother, it doesn't make him want her any less. If that's not bad enough, she moves in with them and he has to pretend he's not completely in love with her. His life could not get any worse…

Until Liam dies in a tragic motorcycle accident.

Leaving each of them with one half of a broken heart.

Now Killian and Emma are left helping each other pick up the pieces.

Just as they're beginning to learn how to live in their new reality, another riptide pulls them further into the deep end when she finds out she's pregnant with Liam's baby.

Notes: So I made this post on Tumblr the other day, and then this fic happened. If you haven't seen the tags, please read them before starting this story or becoming invested because it’s very angsty. First of all, this starts out as Swan Jewel? I don't know what their ship name is or if there is an official name, but yes, Liam and Emma are in a relationship in the beginning, and I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. If you're not comfortable with that, I highly encourage you to hit the back button.

Thank you @ultraluckycatnd for looking it over!

This story was inspired by Baby Mine by Kennedy Fox, and I loved the book so much and thought it was very much underrated. I’ve wanted to write a fic like this for a long time now because it’s one of my favorite tropes, but after I read that book, I just had to write my own take. Also, I made this post about a Baby Yodarita drink last year when it was trending and since the beginning of this story starts one year prior, 2019 and since Killian is a bartender, it was a perfect way to include the prompt.

The title comes from the lyrics of the song, Lay By Me by Ruben. The particular line goes like this:

"I hope you know through the rising tide That I'll be here and you can lay by my side"

If you've never heard it, I recommend giving it a listen. It's an amazing song and very fitting for this story.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFJbLzEtoZw

P.S. In case you're unable to read the shoulder tattoo in the picture above and are wondering what it says—

"There is no happiness without tears

No life without death

And no true love without heartbreak"

Rated: Explicit for smut (including sexual fantasies, masturbation, implied and detailed sex, etc.) and language (lots of F-bombs).

Also available on: AO3 FF.N

Chapter 1

“Late again?” Liam chides when Ruby waltzes into work as if everything is completely normal. As if she’s not an hour late for her shift.

For the third time that week.

She gives him an apologetic smile, but Killian knows she’s not actually sorry.

He’s just wondering who she was with this time.

“Won't happen again, boss.”

“Damn right it won’t. This is your third warning. Next time, there will be a write-up,” he admonishes.

Frustration creases her forehead. “Geez, would you just chill? My car broke down.”

Liam crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at her. “So, you mean to tell me your car has broken down three times this week?” he asks, holding up three fingers. “And on either of these occasions, you couldn’t pick up the phone and give me a heads up? Did your phone break, too?”

She flashes him a look as though the answer to his question is obvious. “I told you my car’s a piece of junk. And I tried to call, but no one answered.”

Killian fights off a laugh, knowing for a fact Ruby is bluffing. At least about calling tonight, since the phone hadn’t rung in the past hour. But he could easily check to see if she’d called on the other two days on the bar phone’s caller i.d. to find out for sure if he really wanted to.

“So get a new car. Don’t you make enough from your tips and the hourly wage I pay you?”

“I make enough from my tips,” she replies with a sarcastic smirk, “but I have more important things to buy.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Like what? More six-inch heels, low-cut tops and short skirts?”

Ruby lets out an exasperated sigh. “How do you think I get good tips—by dressing like a Catholic schoolgirl?” She twists her lips and presses the back of her long, red-painted fingernail to her chin, pondering her own words for a second. “On second thought, that actually might bring in even more tips. Besides, you should be paying for my work clothes. Maybe then I could afford a new car.”

Liam scoffs. “You want me to pay for your outfits?” He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

Ruby's eyes widen, as though she’s shocked he declined her request. “Why not? Can’t you claim them as a work expense?”

He nods. “Alright, fine. But if I’m paying for your work attire, then I’m choosing what you wear. Sound good to you?” he asks, knowing damn well she’ll never go for it.

Unsurprisingly, she shakes her head. “Absolutely not. I ain’t wearing no damn polo shirt and black slacks. I like my low-cut tops and short skirts, thank you very much.”

Liam sighs and cups his forehead in his hand to indicate she’s giving him a headache as he turns around and walks toward his office. “Just get to work, Ruby.”

She wraps her apron around her waist and mimics his words in a mocking tone, “Just get to work, Ruby.”

“I heard that!” Liam hollers.

“I could be already serving customers if it weren’t for my pain in the ass boss riding me every two goddamn seconds!” she shouts, hoping he heard that too.

Killian chuckles to himself as he rings up a customer for his drinks and hands him the change.

“That dude seriously needs to get laid,” Ruby huffs. “Maybe then he’d back off a little.”

“Ha! I doubt it,” Killian comments before taking another drink order.

Ruby heads to the dining area to wait on customers. She knows Killian’s not wrong to doubt Liam’s ability to show a little mercy. He’s worked for his brother for two years, longer than anyone has ever been able to stand working for him, and he’s never once seen Liam be lenient, not even to his own brother. He runs a tight ship, and Killian doesn’t see that ever changing. Liam has owned this bar for five years and takes his job very seriously.

Killian’s just glad he only has to work here for another six months. Or at least that’s the plan. He’s about to graduate from Storybrooke University and get his degree in engineering. As much as he enjoys working for his brother, or rather listening to his coworkers complain about his brother behind Liam’s back, he doesn’t plan on spending his entire life making drinks.

Liam emerges from his office an hour later and announces he has to take off for a while to run some errands. Killian’s confused because this is Liam’s night to manage the bar. He dedicates the majority of his other time performing administrative tasks during the week.

“What errands do you have to run on a Friday night?” Killian asks, his words laced with suspicion.

“Just some errands I promised someone I’d take care of. You’re in charge while I’m gone.” He pulls on his jacket and leaves Killian behind the bar with a confused expression on his face, wondering what his brother is up to.

Killian brushes off the thought, deciding to further question him later.

Liam heads out the door, but not before scolding Ruby for sitting down at a table full of rowdy men, chatting (and not about the menu). She may be into women, but she flirts with customers regardless of their gender for the tips.

Ruby curses under her breath and gets up, moving to her next table to jot down orders.

~*~

Emma sighs as Mary Margaret grabs her hand and pulls her into The Captain's Rum. Or more like, drags her in kicking and screaming. She doesn’t wish to be at this bar any more than she wanted to be at the last two. But her sister-in-law insists on the outlandish idea Emma’s going to find Mr. Perfect tonight. Or somehow get over her asshole of an ex-boyfriend after one night of drinking.

And even though it's been two months since she left Neal and his thieving and cheating ass, and as much as she wants to get over him, Emma knows it’s not gonna happen for a while. At least not tonight.

And yet, here she is.

One night of drinking can’t hurt, she supposes. One night of forgetting everything. Of numbing her pain. Or so she keeps telling herself, but that could be the alcohol she’s already imbibed at the other two bars speaking.

“So, how’s it going tonight, Rubes?” Mary Margaret asks the cocktail server once they’re seated at a booth.

Apparently, they know each other.

“Well, no one's tried to manhandle me yet, so it's a start.” The tall brunette with red streaks in her hair leans over the table and murmurs, “Not a great start, but it's a start.”

Mary Margaret rolls her eyes and laughs as she gestures at Emma. “Rubes, this is my sister-in-law, Emma. She just moved here from New York.”

Looking at Emma, Ruby grins and sticks out her hand. “Hi! Nice to meet you!”

Emma gives her a polite smile and shakes her hand. “Likewise.”

When Ruby brings the chips and cheese Mary Margaret ordered, she places them on the table along with two empty plates. Before arriving here, Mary Margaret decided they would put some food in their bellies before they added more alcohol so they wouldn't get too drunk too fast and have to head home early. Well, that was Mary Margaret’s idea at least. Emma would much rather be home in the comfort of her bedroom watching Netflix. Or rather, her brother’s and sister-in-law's guestroom they so graciously let her sleep in until she gets her own place.

“Enjoy, ladies.”

“Sure will,” Mary Margaret beams as Ruby leaves their table. She sips on some water as she scans the bar. Probably for potential suitors she can hook her sister-in-law up with, Emma surmises. “What about him? He's cute,” Mary Margaret remarks, her eyes trained on someone behind her.

Emma looks over her shoulder and arches a brow. “He’s cute if you’re sixteen. He looks way too young.”

“Well, he’s drinking, so he must be at least twenty-one,” Mary Margaret points out.

“He looks sixteen, and sorry, I don’t date children.”

“Emma, he’s not a child, probably a college student. And you act like you’re so old just because you already graduated. You’re twenty-two,” Mary Margaret points out like she’s jealous and wishes to be so young again. But she's only a few years older—the same age as David.

Emma groans. “No, thanks.” Her last boyfriend was immature enough as it was, and he was ten years her senior. “So, tell me, how are you and my brother getting along?” Emma asks, attempting to change the subject and get her sister-in-law to avert her attention from the college boys across the room. “Sick of each other yet?”

Mary Margaret whips her head around and scowls. “Of course not. Why would you ask such a thing?”

Emma laughs and raises her hands in defense. “Because I knew it was the only thing that would get your attention.”

Guilt and apology flicker in Mary Margaret’s eyes. “Sorry, Emma.” She lays her palms on the table. “David and I are just worried about you, that’s all.”

Emma sighs, frustration creasing her forehead. “I’m fine, I promise. Neal was an ass, and honestly, him cheating on me was a good thing. I needed the wake-up call, okay? I was blinded by love. But now that we're over, I can move on with my life. That’s why I let you talk me into bar hopping.”

A slow, hopeful smile spreads across her lips. “I know, and I’m so happy you got out of that relationship, Emma. David and I both are.”

Emma laughs. “I know. When I landed on your door stoop, we both had to stop him from driving all the way to New York to kick Neal's ass.”

Mary Margaret nods. “True. He’s very protective of you.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “I know. It’s both a blessing and a curse.” She takes a sip of water as she scans the bar. It’s the first time she’s been to The Captain's Rum, and everyone is so unfamiliar to her. New York is a huge place, especially compared to Storybrooke, but in this bar, it feels like she‘s back in New York. She swears everyone in Storybrooke is here.

Ruby returns to their table to sit and chat. And steal some of their chips, double-dipping them in the cheese. Emma fights off the urge to laugh at this as her eyes wander past Ruby’s shoulder.

Huge mistake.

The group at the bar counter disperses, revealing the most gorgeous sight she's ever seen.

Holy. Fucking. Hell.

She loses a breath when she sees what she can only describe as a fine specimen.

Good Lord.

Handsome features and such a delicious smile to accompany his perfect face as he chats with a male patron at the bar, she finds herself licking her lips.

“What about him?” Emma manages when she’s able to find the words in her throat.

Mary Margaret’s eyes light up before she even looks to see who Emma is staring so unabashedly at. “Who?!” She and Ruby both turn their heads, their eyes following the path of Emma’s gaze until they land on the target.

“You mean the bartender?” Mary Margaret asks, though, to Emma’s surprise, she doesn’t seem very excited; more like disappointed.

Emma tears her gaze away from the bartender, as much as she doesn’t want to. But she couldn’t breathe when she looked at him and she needed to come up for air. “Yeah, why not?”

“Why not what?” Ruby asks as she looks at Emma, curiosity flashing in her big hazel eyes. “Because if you’re asking ‘why not jump his bones,’ then I can’t think of one good reason.”

“Ruby, don’t encourage her,” Mary Margaret chides with a glare.

Ruby frowns, confusion etched in her features. “Why not?”

“Because… Killian is a player. Emma just broke up with her player of a boyfriend a couple of months ago. She doesn't need another one in her life.”

“Um, excuse me, I’m right here,” Emma groans wryly. “And I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”

“She’s not wrong though,” Ruby remarks. “He is a player. But a fucking hot player. Between the two of us, we’ve conquered all the women of Storybrooke.”

Emma lifts a brow. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yep. Probably even some of the same women,” she winks, her words bearing no shame or remorse.

“Ruby, would you stop? Besides, neither of you have conquered me,” Mary Margaret points out with air quotes.

Ruby rolls her eyes. “Of course not. Prince Charming had already parked his car in your garage long ago.” She reverts her eyes to Emma. “If you’re looking for a relationship, he’s definitely not for you…” she leans over toward Emma, speaking softly, “but if you’re looking for a hookup to get over that cheating ex of yours, then he’s absolutely perfect for that. He’ll give you an orgasm sooooo hard, you’ll forget all about that scumbag. Then he’ll do it over and over again until he knows you won’t be able to walk for weeks.” Ruby grins wide. “Hell, you’ll forget your own fucking name for weeks.”

Emma gulps, having to recover from the images Ruby implanted in her mind of the man on the other side of the bar. Once she recovers, she furrows her brows at the conclusions she’s drawn from Ruby’s graphic depictions of what a night with the handsome, dark-haired bartender would be like. “How would you know? Have you two—”

Ruby laughs as though Emma just said the funniest thing she’s ever heard in her life. “Oh Gaaaaawwwwd, no! I don’t swing that way, honey,” she says, rising and waving off Emma’s words with a flick of her hand. “But I’ve seen the number Killian’s done on his conquests. People talk, especially the drunk, horny females who enter the bar. Plus, as I said, he’s my competition, so I have to know what he's working with… if you know what I mean,” she says with a wink.

“Yeah, I got it,” Emma groans as Ruby saunters away. Why do all the hot guys have to be players?

It’s just her luck.

Emma turns to catch another look at him.

God, he’s gorgeous.

Dark, wild hair, stubble on his chin and cheeks, and a fantastic body based on what she can see from her vantage point.

“Emma! Don’t even think about it! That man’s trouble and you know David would never approve,” Mary Margaret explains, pulling Emma from her trance.

She turns her head, glaring at her sister-in-law. “David is not my father. And besides, I’m a grown-ass woman! He can’t tell me who I can or cannot date.”

Mary Margaret gives her a motherly look. “I know, sweetie, but this man doesn’t date women, he fucks them and then sends them packing. David only wants to protect you from guys like him.”

“I don’t need his protection, okay? Or yours. I’m perfectly capable of looking out for myself.” Emma stands from her seat, and she’s not sure if it’s because of the alcohol still brewing in her system, or because her sister-law has expressed disapproval from both her and David, making this man seem like a forbidden, sinful dessert she’s dying to get a taste of, even though she’ll pay for it later. But right now she doesn't give a fuck.

She sucks in a breath and strides across the bar, ignoring Mary Margaret’s pleas and warnings.

Her eyes are fixed on him like a magnet. He’s wearing a black v-neck that fits him like a glove and shows off a provocative amount of chest hair, his tight, firm muscles bulging as he wipes down the bar counter. His muscles aren’t inhumanly large, just big enough for her to imagine him picking her up and easily carrying her to his bedroom like she weighs nothing. Emma can feel her panties grow wet just from watching him work.

But even though she doesn’t wish to be told who to be with, she knows she should heed her sister-in-law’s warnings.

What would one night of fun hurt, though? She’s spent too much time holed up in her New York apartment, wallowing in self-pity and heartache after Neal hurt her. She hasn’t been with anyone since then. And maybe she’s not looking to dive into a serious relationship right now. Or ever. Maybe she just wants to blow off some steam. And this man looks like he can handle such a task. She’s more than willing to find out.

Emma approaches the bar and stands in front of him, placing her hands on the counter.

“What can I get you, lass?”

Well, fuck me sideways.

He has a British accent too?

She knows she should run for her life, but before she can talk herself out of it, he looks up from his task, and she feels like her feet are glued to the floor.

Ho-ly hell.

He’s even more gorgeous up close.

His arms are inked with tattoos she so badly wants to trace with her fingers, and his striking blue eyes sparkle as he stares at her, his smile showing off a set of pearly white teeth.

Well shit.

She couldn’t run away if she wanted to.

~*~

Killian had been running back and forth behind the bar for hours, ringing up bar patrons, making drinks and engaging in small talk. It’s a typical Friday night at The Captain’s Rum; the place is normally busy on the weekends, especially since the bar is only a stone’s throw away from the university, and tonight is no exception. It’s crowded and loud, couples are dancing, and the women are scantily clad in either tiny dresses or short tops and skirts. As he’s grabbing beers and making cocktails, the bar continues to fill and grow louder.

He hands off drinks to a couple before moving on to the next customer.

“Hey Jones, can I get two Blue Ribbons?” his good mate, Robin, calls over the blaring music.

Killian chuckles and grabs the desired beers, popping off the caps before handing them over. “Taking it easy tonight?” he asks, leaning against the counter and gripping the edge of it with both hands.

“Aye. Regina doesn’t like the hard stuff. She’s more of a wine person.”

“Ah, I see.” Killian nods; he can definitely see that about Regina. He doesn't want to say this to one of his best mates, but the lass can be a little stuck up and quite bossy at times. She makes Robin happy though, so he keeps his mouth shut.

He chats with him for a few minutes, finally getting a few minutes of reprieve. As Robin heads back to his girlfriend, Killian takes the opportunity to wipe down the bar top. But before he’s finished, someone approaches the counter. His eyes are still trained on his task, but he can’t miss the long blonde hair, pink lace and fantastic cleavage, seeing as the view is directly in front of him. “What can I get you, lass?” he asks, throwing on his most charming grin as he lifts his head.

His smile is cemented on his face the second he looks up.

Killian’s accustomed to seeing pretty women entering his brother’s bar and parading around in clothes that barely cover their essential parts.

Yet nothing in the world could’ve prepared him for the woman standing in front of him on the other side of the bar counter.

No, not woman.

Goddess.

Emerald green eyes, soft pink lips curved into a shy smile, smooth creamy skin, long golden hair cascading over her shoulders.

Good.

God.

She’s breathtaking.

Stunning.

“What would you recommend?” she asks in a teasing tone.

Fuck.

Her voice is that of an angel’s. Pure and sweet and innocent.

She looks like everything he doesn’t deserve but wants every... fucking... part of.

“Uh… I um…” he stutters, scratching nervously behind his ear. He can’t form a cohesive sentence as he looks into those hypnotizing eyes. He wants to get lost in them, drown in them. “What are you… what are you in the mood for, love?” he finally musters, adding another one of his signature grins. “I can make you anything your heart desires.” What he wants to say is, “I can give you anything your heart desires,” but even that may not be true. As gorgeous as she is, he’s afraid he wouldn’t be the man she deserves. He’s never been the guy women like to take home to their parents, anyway. He’s the guy chicks like to have around for a good time before they eventually settle into a serious relationship with Mr. Perfect. He’s definitely no Mr. Perfect, more like a Good Luck Chuck, but at the moment, he feels like he could be fucking Superman for this woman. And he's only exchanged a few words with her so far.

She arches a brow and it’s literally the most adorable and sexiest thing he’s ever witnessed in his life. “Anything?” He senses a challenge in her tone.

“Try me,” he encourages.

She bites her bottom lip in thought.

He lied. Now that’s the most adorable and sexiest thing he’s ever witnessed.

“What if I said I wanted a Baby Yodarita?”

He arches a brow, very much intrigued. “A Baby Yodarita? Never heard of it.”

She laughs and the sound is music to his ears. “That's because I made up the name. But I figure it would be a green drink that looks like baby Yoda.”

“So, I take it you’re a Star Wars fan?”

“Are you a bartender?”

Just as he answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, since he’s behind the bar serving drinks, he catches her drift and flashes a smirk.

Could this woman be any hotter? And yes, as he’s asking this question in his head, he’s picturing Chandler Bing and the way he would say it, emphasizing the word be. Gods, he hates that he knows that about Friends. He hates that he actually likes that show.

“You don't really have to be a Star Wars fan to be a baby Yoda fan though. He's so cute, he's trending on the internet, haven't you seen?”

He chuckles. “Aye, who hasn't?”

She plants her hand on her hip, donning a sultry smirk. “So, are you up for the task, or not?”

He licks his lips and leans over the bar counter, his eyes locked with hers. He wants to ask her if she fell from heaven. Or if he just died and went to heaven. But he has a feeling cheesy lines wouldn't work on a woman like her. “I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific as to what task you’re referring to, love.” But who the fuck is he kidding? There is nothing he could do for her he would consider a task.

Only a pleasure.

Blush paints her cheeks and she leans over, meeting him halfway until her face is mere inches from his. “I have a few in mind… but how ‘bout that drink, first?”

Bloody. Fuck-ing. Hell.

Her voice is a mixture of sweet and seductive. He doesn’t know how she manages to pull off a combination like that. His eyes drop to her lips and he’s seriously considering kissing the holy fuck out of her over the bar counter, audience be damned. He almost groans just thinking about her soft, luscious looking lips pressed against his, but he swallows the sound before it leaves his throat.

He lifts his eyes to hers. “Sit tight, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” she says with a smile and takes a seat on a barstool. “Oh, and a Cosmo for my sister-in-law.”

“Coming right up.” It takes every ounce of strength within him to pull away, but somehow he does.

He has to take slow, deep breaths to peel his mind from the fantasies he’s already having of him and the blonde temptress watching him intently as he prepares her drink.

~*~

Emma snorts. She honestly didn’t think he would actually take her seriously. She was only kidding around. But he took her very seriously and eagerly accepted her challenge. And he did an amazing job.

She stares at the green drink in amusement, impressed, to say the least. He brought it to her in a margarita glass with two lime wedges sticking out like ears. The stem is wrapped in a napkin tied with twine and clearly made to look like Baby Yoda’s coat. And there's a cocktail stick tucked into the twine like a sword.

“Well? How did I do?” he asks, eagerly seeking her answer.

“It's so cute,” she comments honestly. “It looks great, but does it taste as good as it looks?” As she asks that question, she’s looking up into his gorgeous eyes. And she can’t deny she’s wondering the same about him.

Does he taste as good as he looks?

Before she brings the glass to her lips, he puts up a finger to stop her.

“Hold on.” He grabs a toothpick and stabs two cherries, one on each end, before sticking it into the drink, giving the baby Yoda a pair of eyes. “For the finishing touch,” he smirks.

After she stops laughing, she takes a hesitant drink. Once she takes the first sip, her face sours and she blinks a few times as she swallows. “Wow, that’s strong.” She arches her brow, pinning him with an accusatory stare. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

He chuckles. “Aye, isn't that the intention?”

She nods and grins. “This will certainly do the trick.” She rises from the stool and reaches into her back pocket, pulling out her phone case wallet, which holds her phone and money. “How much?” she asks, pulling out some cash.

He waves off her offer. “The drinks are on me,” he says with a wink.

“Are you sure? I don't wanna get you in trouble.”

“Trust me, I won't get in trouble.”

Taking his word for it, she tucks the cash into her wallet. “Thanks for the drinks, Killian.”

He arches a sultry brow, making her heart skip a beat. “So, you’ve heard of me, but I have yet to learn your name?”

She laughs and points at the name embroidered into his shirt. “Yours is right there.”

“Oh, that,” he chuckles, a light blush tinting his cheeks as he peers down and brushes his fingers over the letters. “My boss insists we have our names displayed on our shirts.”

“Well, your boss sounds like a pain in the ass.”

“He is, but I only have to work here for another six months. I’m graduating from SBU in the Spring.”

She nods as a group of people approach the counter beside her. She glances over at them and shifts her gaze back to him, wishing he had more time to chat, but she knows he has to work. “It's Emma,” she makes sure to tell him before the counter becomes too overcrowded. “My name,” she clarifies, in case that wasn't obvious.

“It’s nice to meet you, Emma,” he says sweetly, reaching over to shake her hand. When she slips her palm into his, she can feel the sparks from his touch, but instead of shaking her hand, he brings it to his lips and kisses the back of it.

Oh, God.

This man’s lips on her skin feel like heaven and sin. She has to clench her thighs to stop the throbbing she feels between her legs.

Fuck.

She feels the loss when she pulls her hand away and sees the loss written all over his face. “Well, I should um… I should get back to my sister-in-law,” she stammers after learning how to form words again.

He scratches behind his ear and opens his mouth to speak before closing it again like he’s nervous about something. “Of course, love.”

Emma swallows thickly and lingers a bit, patiently waiting for him to say what’s on his mind.

He must sense she's waiting for him because as she grabs the drinks and starts to back away from the counter, his voice stops her. “Emma?”

Good Lord, she loves the way her name slides off his tongue.

She cocks a brow, hoping he's about to ask for her number. Praying he does. “Yes?”

“I um… can you come back here before you leave? Say in an hour when it slows down a bit? I’d love to chat with you some more,” he says sincerely.

Emma purses her lips like she has to mull over his question. The offer is extremely tempting. But she has something else in mind other than talking. Something involving his hands all over her body and her legs wrapped around his hips as he's plunging into her.

And you know what? Fuck it.

She’s sure whatever he has in mind is exactly what she has in mind. Or at least, close to it. “Sure.”

His eyes widen in excitement and surprise, as though he wasn't actually expecting her to say yes. “Really?”

She flashes him her sexiest grin. “Yeah, why not? I’ll see you in an hour.”

“See you then, love. Enjoy your drink. May the booze be with you.”

She snorts and backs away from the counter, holding up her glass in salute before taking a sip. Their eyes are still locked before she turns around.

As she walks away, she cranes her neck to see him still watching her, even as he's serving other customers. She winks at him and has the pleasure of witnessing that adorable pink blush coloring his cheeks and the smirk on his lips before she faces forward and heads back to Mary Margaret.

She’s not looking forward to the lecture her sister-in-law is about to give her, but honestly, she doesn't care. She's looking forward to returning to the hot bartender, hoping to go back to his bedroom. Or the restroom. Either will do, really. As long as she gets to have him.

After Mary Margaret is done chewing Emma out and reminding her of what a player Killian is, and after she finally realizes Emma is going to do what she wants, regardless of what anyone says, they are able to have some fun.

Ruby keeps the drinks coming, and soon they’re tipsy enough to get up and dance among the crowd of gyrating bodies already on the dance floor. Emma glances over at the counter every now and then, and every other time, she catches Killian staring at her, sending shivers down her spine. And every time he tosses her one of his cheeky smiles, her stomach flutters with butterflies.

Emma's thankful Mary Margaret is plastered enough to let loose and not give her any shit because she has no idea what Mary Margaret would do if Emma told her she's going back to talk to Killian. Though she has a feeling if Mary Margaret were sober, she'd do anything in her power to make sure Emma stayed away from him.

When the time finally comes, they order an Uber, which takes much longer than expected. She helps Mary Margaret into the backseat and tells her she's staying for a bit longer and will catch another Uber when she's ready to leave. She doesn't dare mention Killian's name, or that she plans on leaving with him, for fear Mary Margaret will blabber to her brother. Because then he'll come marching into the bar on his white horse to find his sister with the bartender and embarrass the hell out of her.

Mary Margaret's too drunk and in no shape to talk her out of anything, so Emma’s able to escape, knowing her brother will take care of his wife when she gets home.

Emma quickly shoots David a text to let him know his wife had a few too many drinks and is on her way home in an Uber and that Emma decided to stay a little longer but will be home soon. Which is a lie.

She hopes.

Before the Uber drives away, Emma slips her phone into her pocket before heading back into the bar. She's fifteen minutes late, but it's not like Killian can go anywhere. He’s the bartender.

Once inside, she takes a deep breath and tucks some hair behind her ears, a smile playing along her lips as she makes her way to the bar counter. She has no idea what exactly will happen once she reaches him, but with a face as gorgeous as his, she’s pretty sure she would let him do anything he wanted to.

She’s also pretty sure he could help Emma get over her ex. As they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. And that’s exactly what she plans on doing.

As Emma nears the counter and spots Killian, the beaming smile on her face immediately falls flat.

And her heart sinks.

A busty blonde is standing at the bar, her hand running up and down Killian’s arm, her fingers tracing his tattoos. The woman is sitting on a barstool at the opposite side of the counter in a low-cut top that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, and a skirt so short and tight it looks like it's been painted on. Killian’s standing in front of her, so his back is to Emma as he gives his full attention to the other blonde. It's almost time for last call, so it's now much quieter in the bar, and she's close enough to be able to hear their conversation.

“What can I get you, love?”

“A Tequila.”

“Tequilas are trouble,” he says matter-of-factly.

She moves in closer, biting her smile. “So am I,” she taunts.

“I’m fully aware,” he replies with a chuckle. He tries to move, probably to make her Tequila, but she grabs his arm, forcing him to stay. Though, forcing is a bit of an overstatement; Killian doesn't seem to be putting up much of a fight. “Would you like a snack, too?”

Mischief dances in her eyes as she licks her lips, ogling him like he’s the snack. “I’m looking at it, honey.”

Emma feels like she's going to be sick.

The woman leans in and bites his ear and then pulls away slightly. “Last weekend was incredible. Can’t stop thinking about having my legs wrapped around you,” she giggles.

Jealousy stabs Emma’s gut and disappointment shoots through her like a lightning bolt, bringing her back to reality.

Mary Margaret and Ruby were totally right.

He’s a player.

Unable to listen to them for another second, Emma spins on her heels and dashes out the door so fast, she almost tramples over some guys heading in at the last minute.

She should’ve listened to the warnings, but she was too blinded by the attraction she felt for Killian.

God, she’s a fucking idiot.

Why does she always fall for the dangerous guys? The ones who are bad for her? Why can’t she just find a nice guy for once? Someone safe. Someone who won’t stomp on her heart and discard it like trash without batting an eye.

She pushes open the door, tears stinging her eyes as she runs outside into the bitter, chilly night, hoping the Uber driver hasn’t taken off yet. But it's wishful thinking because she can't think of a reason why he wouldn't have left by now.

“Ooof.”

The air rushes from her lungs as she slams into a tall, solid mass.

Hands are gripping her arms to keep her from falling as apologies leave her lips. “Sorry.” She looks up at the man towering over her, Emma's eyes connecting with soft blue ones, which are full of apology.

He flashes a warm smile, his lips framed by a light brown scruff.

“I’m the one who should be sorry, lass. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

Shit.

He has an accent too?

What’s with all the accents in this town? She’s noticed a lot of the locals here weren’t actually born here. Or the States. She didn’t realize how much she liked men with foreign accents until tonight.

This man continues to apologize, but he doesn’t sound very sorry. At least not for crashing into her. “I was distracted,” he says with a smirk, giving Emma the impression she was what he was distracted by.

Emma tears herself from the trance she’s in and glances at the side of the road, where the Uber once was. “Shit,” she curses under her breath.

“Are you okay?” he asks in genuine concern.

“Yeah, it’s just… my ride has already left. And I’m too drunk to drive home,” she sighs.

Before the man can respond, his phone chimes from his jacket. “Excuse me,” he says apologetically, pulling out the device. He studies whatever’s on the screen with a worried expression, then looks up at her, his mouth slightly agape.

“Everything okay?” she asks with an arched brow, starting to shiver as a frigid wind sweeps around her.

“Um, yeah.” He glances at his phone again before lifting his gaze. “You wouldn’t happen to be Emma, would you?”

She freezes and just stares at him, not knowing how to answer that. Or rather, why she should answer that.

What the hell?

She's never seen this man before in her life, so how does he know her name?

Her heart pounds and she wants to run, but she's afraid she’s not sober enough for that at the moment. “How do you know my name?”

He appears to be hesitant as he holds up his phone, showing her his screen.

Emma takes it in her hands so she can get a better look.

Her eyes widen when she sees a text from a Nolan.

Nolan, as in her brother? Who else with the last name, Nolan, lives with a Mary Margaret and an Emma?

Nolan: I just received a text from Emma. She sent Mary Margaret home in an Uber and is at your bar. Can you make sure she gets home all right?

Her blood sizzles as she rereads the message. Then she reads the texts before it, a couple in particular sticking out like sore thumbs.

Nolan: So… I have a huge favor to ask.

Me: Sure, what’s up, mate?

Nolan: The wife and sister are going to the Rabbit Hole tonight. Emma just moved here from New York after a terrible break-up and Mary Margaret is determined to hook her up with someone.

Nolan: Think you have time to get away from work and keep an eye on my sister, make sure she doesn’t find any trouble?

What the actual fuck?

Why is her brother having this man spy on her?

Emma turns around and pulls back the hand still holding the phone, about to toss the damn thing.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, don’t shoot the messenger, love,” he pleads. “I need my phone.”

The endearment makes her shiver. Killian had called her love, too.

She spins around to glare at the stranger. “David’s using you to spy on me?” she demands firmly.

He holds up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t want to, lass, I promise, but I would’ve felt terrible if I said no and then, later on, found out something bad happened to you. I promise, I was only helping a friend and looking out for you.”

Emma sighs and hands his phone back, knowing he’s telling the truth. She saw his responses to David’s texts and gathered he didn’t wish to put his nose where it didn’t belong or to stir up any trouble. “David always has been good at persuading people,” she grumbles.

“Aye, especially when it comes to protecting the ones he loves,” he winks.

“Even so, he has no business spying on me!” she states louder than intended.

“I wholeheartedly agree,” he states adamantly, making sure to express how much he was against this whole idea, to begin with.

Emma crosses her arms over her chest, wondering how she never saw him at the Rabbit Hole when she was there. “So, you spied on me at the Rabbit Hole?”

He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t get the chance to. By the time I got there, you and Mary Margaret were already gone.”

Emma shakes her head and rolls her eyes at the thought of her own brother asking someone to spy on her. But she’s not surprised. “Brothers are so annoying,” she grumbles.

He chuckles, and the deep, hearty sound warms her heart a little, despite the chill in the air. “Agreed.”

She arches her brow, as though to ask him to expand on why.

“I have one of those, too. So I get it.”

Emma’s features soften, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Older or younger?”

“Younger. He can be quite the ponce sometimes, but at the end of the day, I’d lay down my life for him.”

“I usually feel the same about David… and then he goes and pulls something like this,” Emma remarks bitterly.

“I take it he does this a lot?”

“He did when we were younger. But then I moved to New York and he came here, so we didn’t see each other very much.”

“Ah, I see.”

Another gust of wind makes her shiver and has him removing his jacket and offering it to her. Even though she’s already wearing one.

“May I?”

She cocks a brow. “Won’t you be cold?”

He shrugs. “I rarely get cold.”

She gives him a soft nod. He looks like he’d be the type of man who knows how to stay warm, and therefore knows how to keep a woman warm. He has those big, strong arms and broad shoulders, and he’s very tall. She could picture herself being buried in his warmth, but maybe because she's currently freezing her ass off. “Thanks,” she murmurs when he goes behind her and drapes the jacket over her shoulders.

“It’s my pleasure, love.” When he’s standing in front of her again, he sticks out his hand. “The name’s Liam.”

Emma smiles and slips her palm in his.

She was right. He is warm. Very warm. “I think David’s mentioned your name a few times.”

“Probably not as much as he talks about you. In fact, I feel like I already know you,” he chuckles as they break the handshake.

“Hopefully, he had good things to say?” She almost groans at the idea of David spewing a bunch of embarrassing stories about her from when she was a kid.

“Aye. Very good things… well, mostly,” he admits. “But who doesn’t have at least a complaint or two about their siblings?”

She nods in agreement. “True. I complain about him all the time.”

He grins big and wide. “I don’t doubt that.” When his smile fades a little, he scratches his head as he looks at her, hesitant to form the next words he wants to say. “Well, uh… seeing as it’s,” he checks his watch, “almost two o’clock and not getting any warmer out here, how about I give you a ride home?”

Emma twists her lips in thought. Normally she wouldn’t even think twice about rejecting a ride from a stranger, but there’s something about this guy that tells her he’s not a serial killer or rapist. There’s something pure about him, a vast contrast to the bartender inside. That guy screamed danger and sin, but this man standing before her gives off completely different vibes. He has a warm personality, which is very refreshing, and he has honest eyes. Besides, she may not be able to stand her brother and his antics sometimes, but he's always had good taste in friends. And if David trusts Liam enough to keep tabs on his sister, then he must be trustworthy.

So with a feeble smile, she finally answers. “Okay.”

Tagging people who have shown interest. Let me know if you would like to be added. @itsfabianadocarmo @resident-of-storybrooke @onceuponaprincessworld @viajandosinalas @teamhook @captainswan-shipper88 @jamif @katielovesstarcrossedlovers @uhthreeyuh @lfh1226-linda @babyyouremyqueen @sthonour @julesep3026 @fairytalewhispersinmyheart @andiirivera @wefoundloveunderthelight @wickedsw4n @eleveneitherway @eherron14 @ouatpost @transparentclodsludgeweasel

#cs ff #captain swan #liam and emma #swan jewel #forced roommates #minor character death #angst #heartache #pregnancy #healing #through the rising tide #my fic

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captcas · 4 years

Text

hoax

exile by capthamm

your faithless love’s the only hoax i believe in

part five of capthamm’s captain swan’s folklore read on ao3 / read the ao3 series

Grounding herself, Emma fists her hands until her fingers irritate the road burn coating her palms. Regina just got off the phone with Cruella DeVil and Ursula. Cruella and Ursula.

What the fuck?

Killian arrives and she immediately feels the cool touch of his hook rest on her slightly exposed hip. She’s not sure when this became second nature but she’s glad it has— the consistency grounding her further.

Storybrooke. Chernabog. Town line. Cruella. Ursula. Killian. Hook.

Captain Hook.

She’s dating Captain Hook while co-parenting with the Evil Queen who's trying to decide if she should give Cruella DeVil and Ursula a chance at redemption.

What. the. fuck.

She doesn’t have to deal with these looming realizations as often as she did when the curse broke (the first time), but every once in a while something throws her into a tailspin and she has a hard time finding her way out.

If it weren’t for Killian she’d bet her life savings that Storybrooke was all a delusion and she was sitting in a hospital somewhere compensating for years of home hopping and abandonment.

But then there’s Killian.

There’s been three moments in which Emma knew she wasn’t living a lie.

The first was when Henry came back to her after biting the poisoned turnover. The moment he hugged her… that moment was so visceral, she knew it had to be real.

The second was when Neal died, when she felt a wave of feeling wash over her too great to comprehend. More sobering than any event in her life before, it was a direct reminder nothing is permanent.

The third is every moment she’s spent with Killian since the moment she’s met him. Maybe that’s cheating, shoving hundreds of moments into one, but since she’s met Killian everything has changed.

She was standing in the middle of Cora’s attack, heartless corpses scattered at her feet and she felt another loop setting in, then there was Killian. And so their story goes. Every moment of what the fuck and you’ve got to be kidding me, Killian’s been there— whether on the right side or not is here nor there.

She grasps his hand tightly, drawing a small “x” with her thumb near his wrist and she notices him nod slightly before addressing their ragtag fairytale army, “Emma and I are going to head to Granny’s for some food and then we’ll meet Belle at the library to research our new winged friend.” Everyone nods enthusiastically and leaps into action, David delegating the rest of the group out as Killian squeezes Emma’s hand and leads her away from the chaos.

Once they’re out of ear shot, Killian speaks, “Are you alright, love?”

She loves him. It’s weird, the moment you realize something so profound, but she guesses the small moments are as good as any. “I will be. It’s just… a lot.”

“Aye, Swan. I’m sure it would be for anyone not of our land, but you’ve made great strides in making your own place in this world.” He pulls her in tighter and Emma breathes in his welcoming scent. She always envisioned pirates smelling awful, but Killian is probably the cleanest person she knows. Pirates. She takes a deep breath before diving too deep into that thought.

“Thanks.” She smiles up at him, and she can tell Killian knows how much she means it despite her lack of flowery sentiments he is so versed in. He kisses her temple and she welcomes the silence.

She could handle Elsa making her way into town. Emma was on a level playing field with everyone else, backstories practically nonexistent until Anna entered the picture, but with the arrival of Cruella and Ursula, something shifted in everyone.

There’s history there Emma isn’t a part of and no one is being very forward when it comes to clueing her in. Killian’s holding something back, but she assumes it’s out of shame and knows he’ll tell her on his own time– she didn’t fall in love with a man unscathed; dismal pasts are just part of the package. What’s killing her are her parents, both clearly hiding some dark past with these villains. It’s resurfacing all the anxiety she felt the day the first curse broke. Everyone was so elated, families reunited and memories restored, but Emma felt exactly the same– her relief Henry was going to be alright aside. Snow White hugged her daughter for the first time while Emma hugged her friend Mary Margaret for what felt like the hundredth time.

The playing field was anything but level.

The Enchanted Forest was only a further extension of that, Emma constantly on edge yet feeling 6 steps behind. When she got back to Storybrooke, she felt herself level out— at least she knew how to use the restroom here.

Emma hates to say it, but besides the fact Henry was kidnapped, Neverland was a welcome challenge. Killian warned them the island was greatly unknown even to those who reside there permanently. The playing field leveled itself out completely as everyone seemed just as clueless as she was.

Don’t even get her started on her magic.

Henry has had that book memorized since she met him, the stories practically his now despite him not being alive for the majority of them. He’s always on pace with the rest of the group, knowing references to past dalliances and squabbles without so much as turning a page. She’s glad he’s not feeling this level of anxiousness, but wishes beyond all belief that she could take some of that photographic fairytale memory for herself.

It’s the squeeze of Killian’s hand that brings her back to the present and allows her to walk up the steps to Granny’s without tripping and making an ass of herself. Killian places their order and leans in close to tell Ruby something privately. Before Emma can wonder what he’s said, Killian is leading her up the back steps towards his room and unlocking the door.

“I thought you could use some familiar territory to decompress, love.”

Emma loves him. It’s the only thing that’s convinced her this isn’t some dream that is only minutes from being over. It’s what keeps her fighting tooth and nail for some semblance of normal in her new life which is decidedly anything but. It’s what grounds her when there are literal flying demons from hell trying to take her into the sky.

It’s the only thing that’s made perfect sense.

“Thank you, Killian.” He smiles and begins to turn away, not picking up the true gravity of her appreciation. Emma grabs his wrist and he turns back towards her, worry etched into his brow.

“Are you sure you’re alright, love?” She should answer, but finds herself too busy searching his eyes for any hint that this is a dream.

Emma’s known she loves him for a while now, since the moment they returned from the past– the monumental nature of his trade for her family’s safety winning her heart completely. She doesn’t dare tell him that though– she fears the moment she does is the moment she wakes up back in Boston… alone. Emma hasn’t been alone since the moment Henry found her, and while there are moments she wishes for time to sort out her thoughts, she relishes every moment with her family. At this point, she’s not sure she’d know how to be alone anymore and the thought of leaving this reality for the truth scares her everyday.

Killian’s the only one who seems to remind her this is as real as it gets.

His thumb brushes softly across her wrist where he’s slowly taken control. As though he could read her mind, Killian nods ever-so-slightly, a comforting smile breaking across his face. She squeezes his hand, purposely placing one of his rings in an uncomfortable position on her hand in a futile attempt to wake herself up before she jumps to the point of no return.

Emma finds his eyes again– somehow her anchor even though they’re as blue as the sea. She used to drown in them, the emotions she felt overtaking her as they acted as x-rays into her soul, but as time moved on all she found was comfort. Taking a deep breath, she decides she doesn’t want to live on this edge anymore. If this is all a hoax, she wants to know now before the pain of waking would be more excruciating than she already imagines it would be, but also before he tells her first, and the fear of the unknown stops her from returning the sentiment. Emma aches to tell him, so that she can finally know if the fairytale (literally) she’s been living is truly her life.

So she does.

“I love you.”

As Emma expected, he surges in for a kiss, his actions speaking louder than her three words -even long ago. He comes up for air, and for a moment, Emma refuses to open her eyes, sure the dream will have changed, or worse she’ll have woken up all together, but then that moment passes. Killian’s forehead is hot against hers as she feels the smiles lines grow across it. He breathes out and his breath graces her lips softly. In a seemingly impossible task, Killian closes what little distance remains between them. Emma moves in to kiss him once more, but he leans back slightly to stop her. It’s then, on instinct alone, that Emma finally opens her eyes. As she gazes into an endless expanse of blue, a weight lifts from her chest– a weight left long ago when she turned to find cops in that alleyway instead of Neal. She never realized how heavy it was, not until the moment it was gone– or if not gone, shared.

“I love you too, Swan.”

He brings her back to the here and now in an instant and she’s home.

His voice– light and full of the kind of happiness she truly thought was reserved for the best of dreams– buries itself deep into her mind, creating a sort of tattoo on the memories that lived there. Sure, she’d been told I love you many times, by many people, but the words that leave Killian’s mouth feel permanent.

They feel real.

She rushes forward to kiss him, once again. The electricity radiating through her body, the feel of his hands laced along her lower back, and the smile forming against her lips finally convince her that, while her life may be part fairytale, it’s undoubtedly as real as any of the others in Henry’s ancient book.

. . .

@mariakov81 @lfh1226-linda @kmomof4 @superchocovian @pirateherokillian @teamhook @nikkiemms

#captain swan fanfiction #cs ff #cs canon divergence #emma swan #killian jones #capthamm #captain swan's folklore #taylor swift #hoax taylor swift

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stahlop · 3 years

Text

Ready to Run (2/?)

I know it's been 84 years since I posted a new chapter. I am so sorry. Between birthdays, Secret Santa, January Joy, and Neverland New Year, I kind of over extended myself. I'm hoping to update this every two to three weeks now.

Thanks to @imlaxdris71 for continuing to be my beta for this story.

Prologue Ch.1

Read it on Ao3

“Belle.” He says to his boss and the head of the vlog site. “Come on. It’s an opinion piece. You can’t fire me for having an opinion.”

“I left you four messages and a slew of texts, Killian.” Belle sighs as she pushes a piece of mousy brown hair that has escaped her barrette away from her face as she looks for something on her laptop.

“And that surprises you? I never answered your messages and texts when we dated either.” He looks over at Will who happens to be in the office as well, which is odd because Will doesn’t usually come to meetings between them. Will is usually never out of the editing room when they’re at the office.

“What’s your boyfriend doing here?” Killian asks grumpily. He’s perfectly fine with Belle dating his best friend. He gave Will his blessing when he asked Killian if he could date Belle after they’d broken up. There were no hard feelings between him and Belle; they just worked better as friends.

“Moral support.” Belle says, her eyes lighting up as she has apparently found what she is looking for.

“Since when do you need moral support, Belle?” Killian teases. Belle does not look amused.

“I’m here for you, you wanker!” Will says practically knocking Killian out of his chair.

“Aha!” She says as she pulls up whatever it was she was looking for. “First rule of journalism, Killian, regardless of whether it’s an opinion piece or not, if you make up your facts, you get fired.” She gives him a stern look, one he got very used to when they were dating. It was a wonder she’d never killed him.

“Second rule: never work for an ex.” He sighs. Belle’s face gets even more stern. Killian has never even seen this face before, and he thought he knew them all. She sighs again and clicks a button on her computer. Killian hears the printer spitting out a piece of paper behind her.

“That has nothing to do with it, Killian.” She says as she rolls her chair around to the printer and grabs what it was she printed out. “If you make something up you get fired.” She looks completely exasperated with him, another look he knows all too well. Killian sighs this time.

“I didn’t make up anything, I had a source.” Belle knows him too well to think he would just make something up, so he’s really confused as to where this whole tongue-lashing is coming from.

“Someone reliable?” She questions raising her eyebrow at him. “Or someone in Liam’s bar?” Oh, he knows her way too well.

“Hey, hey, hey. Don't knock drunk guys in bars. It means they're not driving.” Will laughs at his joke. Killian puts out one arm toward Will and then looks back at Belle as if to say ‘See?’, but she’s still not amused by him. “Besides, l am an opinion vlogger. This is what opinion vloggers are supposed to do.” Killian is slightly agitated that Belle is making him defend himself over this. Usually, he just gets a talking to and that’s that. “It's what you like. We push, we stretch, we go out on a limb. That's what makes me good!”

“No, it’s what makes you fired.” Belle fires back. Killian’s had enough of this.

“What the hell, Belle?” Will laughs again from behind him. So much for support.

“Emma Swan has written a grievance against you and asked you to be fired or she will sue us for slander.” Belle says with finality. Killian’s eyes go wide with shock. Maybe he shouldn’t be getting his ideas from drunk guys in bars. And now that he thinks about it, he really shouldn’t have used her name. Will comes up behind him and rests his hands on Killian’s shoulders in a comforting way.

“Please Belle, this is my life we’re talking about.” He says, no longer feeling cocky about all this. The wind has been blown out of his sails, so to speak.

“If you go quietly, I’ll see about getting you severance pay.” She says not looking at him in the eyes and handing him the paper she had printed out. He opens it to see the email that Emma Swan had sent about him and he realizes this is real. Just yesterday he was envisioning winning awards for this piece and now he doesn’t have a job.

“Come on mate.” Will says helping him out of the chair and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “I’ll walk you to your desk so you can collect your things and escort you out.” They begin to walk out of Belle’s office.

“I can do it myself.” He says rather angrily. He instantly regrets it. It’s not Will’s fault he’s in this mess.

“Well, actually, I do. I have to physically make sure you leave the building.” Will says a little embarrassed.

“Of course.” Killian replies back. This was not how he foresaw his day going at all. Will has ceremoniously provided him with a small box to put everything in. He gathers up a picture of himself and Liam from when they were stationed together on the same ship, both looking pristine in their uniforms. He picks up the picture of Belle, Will, and himself, back when they were all just a bunch of single friends, before dating complications. A picture of himself graduating from college goes into the box, as well as other knicknacks he’s collected over the years. He leaves all the notebooks and writing utensils, he has enough of those at home.

Will stays silent through all this until the elevator doors close behind them.

“I have an idea that will get your job back.” Will says still facing the elevator door and not actually facing Killian.

“What?” Killian says, confused. “What are you saying?”

“Revenge.” Will says now facing him with a slightly evil smile on his face. He and Will have been friends for a long time, and this is the first time Killian has ever seen this creepy smile grace his face. “How would you like some? A chance to prove that although your story wasn't entirely factual, your theory was correct.”

“The real story on Miss Swan.” Killian interrupts.

“All the gory details.” Will’s actually rubbing his hands together like a movie villain. Killian raises an eyebrow. This is a side of Will he’s never seen before. For all the trouble they got into as young men, he’s never been blatantly evil about it. But he would like to get his job back. “And if she runs again, even better.” Will shrugs as the elevator bell pings that they’ve reached the ground level and the doors open up to the lobby.

Will waves goodbye before the elevator doors close back up on him and Killian is left to ponder what Will has said. “Bloody hell.” He whispers to himself and immediately shifts his box to one side and grabs his phone from his pocket. He scrolls to find a car rental place and places the call as he walks outside of his former employer’s building.

“Yes, I’d like to rent a car for next month.”

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After Henry had been born, Emma Swan had vowed to protect her heart and his heart from any further heartbreak. Having grown up in the foster system, it wasn’t that hard. She’d felt she hadn’t been loved from a very young age, and even though her parents had eventually gotten her back at the age of 10 (they’d been 16 when they had her and thought they’d been giving her her best chance by putting her up for adoption), she still had those trust issues. Neal did nothing to help those issues, and even after he’d gotten out of jail five years later, he was barely there for Henry, despite only living a few neighboring towns over.

The problem though, was that Emma’s parents were the perfect fairy tale couple (despite the less than fairy tale teen pregnancy and adoption). They had met as children, the mayor’s stepdaughter and the farmer’s son. Her mother, Mary Margaret, and her father, David, had not hit it off at all. They fought like cats and dogs (David even had a scar on his chin from one such fight in which Mary Margaret threw a rock at him). It had eventually all come down to some school dance where they were forced to dance together as the dance’s king and queen, and they had never been apart since. They had married after college and established their careers, and when they had discovered they were pregnant with her little brother, Leo, they decided they wanted their whole family back together. Or at least, have contact with Emma if she’d found herself a loving home already. It took them a few years to find her, and it took Emma a few years to really trust them. After all, they had been the reason she’d been in foster care in the first place. And having a three-year-old brother practically right when she came to live with them sent those trust issues spiraling, as she’d been given up by the Swan family at the age of three when they’d conceived their own child. That was why she’d fallen for Neal so hard and fast. Her parents seemed like true love, and she’d wanted that too. But obviously it didn’t work out as well for her.

And sure, she’d tried finding another guy who could love both herself and Henry unconditionally, but something had always pulled at her gut right as she was walking down the aisle that made her run. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she didn’t want to regret marrying someone, even if she’d been pretty sure right until she walked down the aisle.

And that’s why Graham was perfect. He knew her. He was under no pretensions about her past. He was currently the town sheriff, but before that he’d been one of the local deputies that helped the FBI take Neal down at her first wedding (the fact that she can think first wedding when she’s never actually been married is still something that wars in her mind). They’d been friends for a long time, he being only three years older than her. And it was after her aborted marriage to Walsh that he finally made his feelings known. Henry already loved him, thought of him as a father figure, and that’s all that mattered. And here they were, a year later, getting ready to get married.

And she was going through with it this time.

“Graham! Graham!” She runs into the sheriff’s station high off the email she’s just received. “They canned him!” She says excitedly, shoving her phone in his face.

“I’m glad you’re here, Emma.” Graham says, dark blonde hair flopping in his face as he gives her a big ‘luckiest man in the world’ smile. “Try this on.” He hands her a large hiking backpack that he has at the station for some reason.

“Listen.” Emma says, absentmindedly putting her arms through the large pack’s straps as she reads. "Dear Ms. Swan, I apologize to you for this unfortunate matter. Killian Jones’ vlog will no longer be appearing on our site. Best of luck in your upcoming marriage! Belle French.” She closes her phone and looks at Graham who is now beside her but still holding the pack up, which feels really heavy.

“That’s my girl!” He grins at her, then his face becomes serious. “Now this is the weight of the pack you’ll be wearing on the Inca Trail.” Graham has always wanted to go hiking on the Inca Trail and see Machu Picchu. It’s not really something Emma has ever thought about doing, but it makes Graham happy. It was definitely a better idea than Walsh’s honeymoon plans, which involved seeing different monkey species in their natural habitats all throughout the US. Or August who wanted to go to New York Fashion week and try to crash the runway shows. And then she’s suddenly falling backwards as Graham’s strong hands move away from the pack and the sheer weight of it pulls her down to the ground.

“Um, I think it’s a little heavy, hon. Can you help me up, please?” But instead of helping her up he kneels down and starts peppering her with kisses. She squeals in delight as they start making out on the sheriff’s office floor. Hopefully, no one will come in and interrupt them.

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Emma is hanging out at Hairandelle, Elsa’s hair salon, while Henry is visiting with his Uncle Leo, when she sees the black Chevelle convertible drive through the center of town. It’s a weekend, so they do tend to get tourists, especially with the beautiful fall foliage that has started appearing on the trees. Elsa raises an eyebrow toward her. She knows how much Emma loves cars. She’d restored her yellow Beetle all by herself, the only other thing Neal had left her with besides Henry. And the Chevelle is beautiful. Emma is tempted to go outside and take a look, has actually opened the door when the driver (who she’d only been able to see from the back until now) gets out of the car, parked in front of the local B&B. He looks slightly familiar to Emma, and then he takes off his aviator sunglasses and Emma’s temper flares!

“I can’t believe him!” She yells as she slams the door behind her, the bell jangling all over the place. Elsa’s expression changes quickly from the knowing smile she’d been displaying previously to one of confusion.

“Can’t believe who?” Elsa asks.

“Killian fucking Jones!” She points out the window at the Chevelle. Emma doesn’t think she’s ever seen Elsa sprint from her seat so fast as she pushes past her to get a glimpse of the man in the flesh. They both stare at him over copies of fashion and hair magazines.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Emma asks, a little panicked. She can’t imagine it’s for anything good, not after getting him fired from his job.

“Maybe he’s here to apologize?” Elsa says. Emma looks at her as if she’s suddenly turned into a snowman.

“Doubtful.” She looks back over at him from behind the magazine and he turns toward them at that exact moment. He looks the same as he did on that awful vlog that he spoke on. Dark hair that was styled to look like he just rolled out of bed. Scruff on his chin that made Emma think things she really shouldn’t. Graham had the same type of scruff, he probably just makes her think of him. He’s talking to Leroy, the town gossip, and the grumpiest man she’s ever met (who likes to spend a lot of time in her jail cells after a night of drinking). He points straight toward them and then, they make eye contact. She squeaks and moves her magazine back up over her face. “Oh, god! Did he just see me?” She can feel her entire face flushing.

Elsa laughs. “He doesn’t know what you look like, remember?” She says patting her shoulder. But Killian Jones is now heading straight for them, and Emma is pretty sure Leroy just pointed her out to him.

“Shit!” Emma says as he continues toward the hair salon, a swagger in his step. She quickly jumps into one of the large bubble hair dryer stations, stuffs her hair up into the cap, flicks the machine on, crosses her legs, and puts the magazine up in front of her face just as the bell on the door starts jangling again.

“Hello.” Killian Jones says looking at Elsa intently, probably trying to figure out if she is the woman whose life he tried to ruin. “I’m looking for Emma Swan. Leroy over at the B&B said she was over here.” Emma wonders if Elsa would pretend to be her so she can make her escape. Elsa just gives him her patented eyebrow raise before asking him, “Are you a reporter?” like she doesn’t already know the answer. Emma smiles behind the magazine. Elsa’s going to mess with him. He’ll never know what hit him.

Killian Jones, to his credit, looks a bit taken aback that Elsa just straight up asked him if he was a reporter.

“What?” He seems to be trying to play it off as confusion instead of shock at being called out.

“It’s just that it’s been the most recent experience in our town that anyone asking about Emma happens to be a reporter wanting to interview her.” Elsa goes back to her style station and starts picking up various pairs of scissors, inspecting each pair.

“Because of her upcoming wedding?” Killian Jones offers.

“Oh, no.” Elsa says, turning back toward him brandishing a particularly sharp pair of scissors. “Because she got that asshole vlogger fired.” Killian Jones gives a nervous smile. Emma suppresses a giggle from behind her magazine and pretends to continue to be engrossed in the correct hairstyles for your face shape.

“I am just such a reporter.” He says sticking out his hand to shake Elsa’s. “And who might you be?”

“Elsa Frost. Yes, I get the Frozen jokes all the time.” She says never wiping the smile off her face. “And you are?”

“Looking for Emma.” Killian Jones says flashing a brilliant smile at Elsa.

“Of course. Emma -- Someone to see you.” Elsa yells directly at her. Killian turns to look at the only other person in the salon, herself, and Emma can’t bring herself to drop the magazine from her face quite yet. She should have known Elsa wouldn’t be subtle. It was not her style.

“Emma?” Killian asks, stopping right in front of her. Well, this couldn’t be more embarrassing.

Emma slowly puts the magazine down and gives Killian Jones her brightest smile, as if seeing that she isn’t affected by him will make him change his mind and leave. She remembers at the last moment that she has the bubble hair dryer over her head and manages to flip it up and not bump her head on it. She doesn’t need to completely mortify herself quite yet.

“I really don’t know how much more you can say, sir.” She will not give away the fact that she knows who he is. He thinks he’s playing it cool, but the fact that he’s a vlogger doesn’t hide who he is in the least. Which gives Emma an idea.

“Hey Elsa!” Emma yells out. Elsa comes back around toward them, her blonde braid swishing behind her. As planned, Killian looks at her as she comes around and Emma mimes cutting his hair behind him. Emma quickly puts her hands back to her sides when he looks back at her. “Do you think I should give this reporter the inside scoop on my wedding?” God she hopes he takes the bait. He looks back at Elsa expectantly.

“I think…” Elsa taps her fingers along her cheek, “no one interviews Emma in here without a haircut.” Her face is full of mirth, but her voice is serious as hell.

Killian’s eyes go wide. “Sorry, ladies, just had one.” He then runs his fingers through his hair as if to prove his point.

“Well,” Emma has another idea that she thinks they’d be able to pull off. “what about a nice hot towel for your face? Get all that city dirt out of your pores?” She gives him a wide smile. “I promise I’ll answer your questions.” Killian looks at her questioningly, but then decides to take the win. He gives a smirk and sits down in the chair.

“So, when’s the big day?” He asks while Emma puts the cape over him. Elsa props him back in the chair so he’s in a lying position.

“A week from Saturday.” Emma says in an upbeat voice. She sounds like one of those peppy cheerleaders she always hated in high school.

“Church wedding?” He asks with an amused look on his face.

“No. I’m not a church person.” Emma laughs at the notion. “We’re doing an outdoor ceremony in the woods at Graham’s cabin.”

“Sir.” Elsa interrupts. “I’m just going to put some lotion on your face, just to make it smoother. Your face will feel so nice once the hot towels are added.” She turns to grab what she needs and smothers a laugh that bursts out with a cough.

“Gum.” Emma explains. “She’s always choking on her gum.”

“So, Miss Swan. Are you nervous for your upcoming nuptials?” He asks, ignoring Elsa’s outburst altogether.

“No, but I have been having these bizarre dreams…” And Emma makes up a whole slew of bizarre wedding dreams including all her past grooms walking her down the aisle and looking down to find herself in a red, leather wedding gown.

“What do you think all that means?” She asks him as Elsa removes the hot towel from his face and puts him back up into a seated position.

“I’m not really quite sure,” he begins and puts his hand to his chin as if he’s truly thinking about her dilemma, but stops short when he realizes his scruff is no longer there. His eyes grow wide as he jumps up from the chair and turns toward the mirror.

“Smooth as a baby’s bottom.” Elsa says giving Emma a high-five. Killian doesn’t respond but stalks out of the salon instead. Emma follows him. She’s not done messing with him yet.

“Mr. Jones,” she says as she opens the salon door and rests against it while still open. “I hope you realize what a mistake it was in coming here. I’m not some simpering little girl that you can tell lies about and bully to make yourself feel good. You can’t make me feel bad.” She tries to sound casual about it and leaves her arms resting at her sides, even though every instinct in her body makes her want to cross her arms over her chest. But this guy knows body language. She could tell from the way he carried himself in his vlog. Crossing her arms makes her look mad and angry and she can’t give him that.

“I’m not here to make you look bad, Miss. Swan.” He scrubs his hands over his face in frustration. “But apparently you want to make me look bad.” He says as he rubs his now bare chin. He looks like a totally different person without his scruff. Younger, more innocent. “What I’m here for is revenge.” Killian gets up close to her. Too close for comfort. She can smell the chemicals from the hair removal product they used to rid him of his beard. But she can also see his blue eyes and while Graham’s eyes are also blue, Killian Jones eyes are a blue all unto themselves. Emma can see why women find him attractive. “In my heart I feel I’m right about you and I’m going to prove it. You got me fired, Swan. That’s not something I take lightly. You chew men up and spit them out. You’re going to do to this poor wanker what you did to your other three grooms. Run.” His eyes are practically black now. Emma can tell he’s getting off on this ‘dressing down’ of her, but she keeps the smile pasted on her face because she can’t let him see that he’s getting to her, no matter how off his theory about her may be. “You are going to run again, and I’m not leaving here until you do.” Emma almost expects him to jab a finger into her chest, but instead, he backs off and gives her a grin as if he won that round.

“You know Mr. Jones, I’d love to stay and discuss my psyche or whatever it is you think is my motivation for being a multiple time runaway bride, but unlike you, I actually have a job, one I need to prepare for. Goodbye.” She turns and walks off, resisting the urge to look back at him. She won’t give him the satisfaction.

Tag List: (Let me know if you want to be added or removed)

#captain swan movie marathon #Captain Swan #captain swan ff #cs au #cs au ff #inspired by runaway bride

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elizabeethan · 4 years

Text

Keeping It Professional

Please enjoy this dialogue-heavy fluff-fest, in which Emma and Killian work together on a popular TV show, and Emma is just trying to keep things professional.

Rated T

~3200 words

Summary: Join us this Thursday with Emma Nolan, the star of the hit show, Neverland! Emma plays Emma Swan, a mom who's trying to get her son back from Neverland, but Peter Pan is not who you'd expect. We'll discuss a new season, the upcoming finale, and, of course, her on and off screen relationships with her costars! You won't want to miss this one!

In which Emma Nolan hates interviews.

A/N: Oh hi, I wrote this while I was being no-showed. I have no idea what it is.

see other stuff that i’ve written on Ao3 or tumblr

The ostentatious applause and blinding lights are things that Emma Nolan has grown accustomed to over the years. The show has been on for four seasons, having just been picked up for a fifth, and it’s grown in popularity during that time.

“It must be interesting playing a character with your same name.”

“Definitely. No one ever has an excuse to get my name wrong on set,” she laughs lightly, drawing similar sounds from the audience.

“Right! And I’m sure it much be interesting, working with your brother?”

“Oh, yeah. David’s a great actor, and he’s also my best friend. It’s a blast.”

“Now, at the end of last season, we found out that Baelfire was actually alive!” The audience cheers. “How’s that for a turn of events?”

“Oh, I know. Crazy right? We’ll have to see how it will impact everyone’s relationship with Henry.”

“Not to mention Emma’s relationship with Hook, right?”

The audience whoops and hollers, and Emma smiles. “I guess we’ll have to see!”

“Now, Emma, everyone is dying to know. The chemistry between you and Killian… there’s got to be something there, right?”

Emma loves to act— and she’s damn good at it. She loves the show she’s been a part of for almost five years now. She even doesn’t mind doing interviews, usually. What she does mind, however, is how everyone and their mother assumes she’s sleeping with her costars.

Emma fakes a laugh— she’s a good actor, remember? — and lets her eyes light up and a grin split her face, saying jokingly, “I’m a really good actor.”

The audience laughs, as does the interviewer, reaching between their chairs and touching Emma’s knee lightly. “You're too much! But come one—you and Killian? You and Neal?”

Okay, she hates interviews.

Emma shakes her head, trying her hardest to maintain an air of light and playfulness rather than rolling her eyes like she so badly wanted to. “Just keeping it professional, you know?”

“Well, Emma Swan has had some steamy moments with both Baelfire and Hook, so I think the audience would agree when I say we want to know who the better kisser is! Both of them are so delicious!” The audience doesn’t cheer; screams violently is more like it. Emma tries to laugh it off, but seriously? How is this question even allowed to be asked?

“Uh,” she starts awkwardly before she snaps herself back into interview mode and smiles again. “No comment,” she says with a smirk and a flirt in her tone.

“Oh, come on!”

She hates interviews.

“We’re all good friends. We’re just trying to keep it professional so that we can continue to work together.”

“Well, your brother David and Mary Margaret got married last year and they seem to work together well.”

Emma’s left eye starts to twitch, and she’s glad that it isn’t the side of her facing the audience. Let it go, lady, she thinks. “I’m so happy for them—they're great together, aren’t they?” The audience cheers again. “I’m really glad they were able to work things out between them. They’ve always had a thing for each other, and their relationship is so strong both on and off screen that it just worked out.”

“Are you saying you don’t have a strong relationship with Killian or Neal?”

“No, no, it isn’t that. I guess I’d just rather put my professional relationship with them over any of my own wishes.”

The interviewer smirks, and shit. “So, you do wish to be with one of them?” Oh my god, she thinks. Yes, but leave me the hell alone about it.

She starts to panic, thinking about what Killian would say in response, how he would tease her for anything that comes out of her mouth. Then she starts thinking about his mouth, then his eyes and his cute nose and his weird, charming ears, and her heart starts racing and her palms start sweating, and she has to get herself under control, dammit!

“All I want is for people to continue to love the show, and if my on-screen chemistry with my costars assists in that, then I’m happy.” Phew, take that, Kelly. Emma is a professional actor, thank you very much.

“Alright, alright, we can’t get anything out of her today, guys, sorry. Emma Nolan is the star on the hit series Neverland, which portrays Peter Pan in a very new light; catch up online or before the new episodes air every Sunday at 8 pm!”

The audience shouts again, and they're finally given the cue that the cameras are off as the lights dim, and Emma stands from the chair she was perched on and starts to unhook her mic from her top.

“Thank you for coming in today, Emma! It was so lovely having you.”

“It was great being here, Kelly, thank you.”

Emma practically runs from the stage once she’s cleared to do so, making her way down dark, winding hallways until she reaches the dressing room with her name printed on it. She shuts the door firmly behind her and presses her back to it, taking a deep breath and sliding down to the floor with her face in her hands. She tries deep breathing, but she finds it nearly impossible to get any air in.

Her phone chimes, alerting her to the message she’s received, and she attempts to pull herself together so that she can stand and grab it.

Nice one, Swan

She rolls her eyes at the moniker Killian has given her, but she can’t stop the smile from spreading across her face. Knowing that he must’ve been watching her interview from his own dressing room across the building makes her heart rate pick up. Knowing that he must know how nervous she is, because she hates interviews, makes her cheeks go rosy.

i hate interviews.

I know. You did great, love. Very professional.

yeah, well. don’t let kelly bully you next week like she did me. go get em, tiger.

No matter her mood, she can’t stop herself from flirting with him, and it’s seriously a problem. They can’t be doing this, and she knows it.

~~~~

“Hey Nolan,” she hears with a knock on her trailer door as it swings open.

“Hi Neal, what’s up?”

He smiles at her sweetly and gestures into her trailer. “Can I come in for a second?”

Emma nods, nodding her head towards the small couch. “Sure. What’s going on?”

“Just wanted to say, I saw your interview with Kelly. You did really well.”

She smiles at him sweetly as she takes a seat on a chair across the small trailer from him. “Thanks. She was persistent, huh?” Did she mention that she really hates interviews?

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Okay…” She’s hesitant to speak now, not wanting to push him in either direction, but honestly nervous for what’s about to come out of his mouth.

“I was just thinking… well, I like you, Emma. Not just as a costar or friend. I think you're cool and funny and pretty, and I was just thinking… well, everyone already thinks— I mean, I know you said you want to keep everything professional, but we can date and still be professional, right?”

“Neal…”

“Go to dinner with me. Just once. I really think we could have something great here.”

She shakes her head, her heart racing again as anxiety sets in. “I can’t. I’m sorry Neal, I just… I can’t.”

He nods, smiling at her again, and thank god he isn’t as much of an asshole in real life as she thinks his character is. “I get it, it’s alright.”

“I just want to keep everything professional. We work together…”

“Right, I know. So, it isn’t because of Jones?”

“What about Killian?” She screws her face as much as she can manage, but panics as she fears that he knows.

“You guys just have chemistry, too, that’s all. I wasn’t sure if you were together or something.”

He doesn’t know, she reminds herself, breathing in deeply in an attempt to relax. “I want to keep everything—”

“Professional, I know. No worries, Em.” He smiles once more, standing up and squeezing her shoulder before he heads out the door.

~~~~

“So, what’s it like working with your ex?” The audience reacts excitedly as Kelly presses, perhaps making it her mission to ask the most uncomfortable questions she possibly can.

“Oh, it’s alright. Milah and I are in a good place. We were together so long ago, and we’re both adults, so we’re able to keep things professional.” Emma nods at her screen, biting her thumb nervously as Killian gets grilled once again.

“That’s so amazing, isn’t it, guys?” The audience cheers. “Now last week’s episode was just… so heartbreaking. I’d love to get into that a bit with you.”

“Yeah,” he nods, and the audience aws collectively. “It was a really tough one to shoot. I don’t want to give much away, but the last scene with Hook and Emma was very emotional.”

“For the characters, or for you and Emma?”

“Both, I’d say.”

Kelly nods somberly as the audience aws again. “It looked it. I heard a rumor that the kiss Hook planted on Emma’s forehead when the rowboat was leaving the island was unscripted. Is that true?”

The audience gets excited, and Emma loses her thumb nail to her front teeth. “Yeah, actually. That scene in particular was really, really emotional. Can I drop spoilers?”

“Anyone who hasn’t seen the season finale yet is out of their mind. Drop away!”

He laughs blithely, the light in his eyes shining brightly through her iPad screen. “Well, Pan had put Emma in an impossible situation. She had to choose between getting Henry out of Neverland without a sleeping curse, or risk never waking him up and leaving Hook behind. I think it’s clear by the season finale that Emma has feelings for Hook, so that decision was really difficult for her. That final scene between the two of them… well, it was emotional for Hook too, because his feelings for Emma are obvious.” The audience cheers again.

“Super obvious. I mean, the chemistry between the two of you…”

“Right,” he quickly brushes her comment off. “So, we shot that scene at, like, 3 in the morning. It was freezing, it was raining, we were tired, and we don’t really know what the writers have in store for the next season. So, I guess my emotions got the better of me, and Hook and Emma— Swan, that is— finally had that moment when feelings were admitted—”

More screaming, as Killian refers to the steamy make out scene that aired last week. “Oh, we remember!” Kelly shouts over the audience.

He laughs again, a blush rising over the tips of his adorably pointy ears as he continues. “So, yeah, shooting the final scene between the two of them, where Emma needs to leave Hook on the island to ensure Henry’s safety, it was really difficult because there was finally a chance for them, and that chance got ripped away and we don’t know what’s going to happen to Hook. And like I said, it was cold and late, and I guess that just got the better of me, so I went with it.”

“Well, I think I can say with confidence that the viewers are glad that you went with it. I mean, how sweet was that, Hook kissing Emma’s forehead so softly? It was adorable!” Even more screaming, and Emma thinks she can see Killian cringing just the slightest bit.

“Yeah,” he says softly, still blushing. Emma wants nothing more than to reach through the screen and grab him to plant a big fat kiss on his cheeks.

“It only works so well because of the chemistry between you and your costar, Emma Nolan.”

He nods, blush permanent on his features. “We’re close.”

“Any chance we could see the two of you as more than friends off screen?” Kelly’s smirking, and she audience goes absolutely insane and threatens to blow out Emma’s headphones.

“Not sure that you’ll ever see that. We’re just keeping things professional, Kelly. She and I are costars, first and foremost.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll back off,” she laughs, as does the audience. Killian’s is discernibly fake.

By the time the interview ends, Emma’s face is as red as she imagines Killian’s to be. She puts her iPad away and lies on the couch, covering her eyes with her arm and trying hard to relax before she has to go out on set. The season finale aired, and they’ve already started shooting for season five, which requires even more chemistry between Emma Swan and Captain Hook.

The polls don’t lie; the viewers were absolutely obsessed with Emma and Hook’s relationship. Captain Swan started trending internationally after the finale, when the writers made it clear that the relationship between Emma and Hook was beyond just physical. Of course, what helped that along was Killian’s accidental smooch to Emma’s face during shooting.

What was an accident born from emotional exhaustion ended up being edited into the scene, driving the nation crazy once it aired and absolutely blowing up both Emma and Killian’s social media accounts. Not only were fans of the show obsessing over Captain Swan, but they were now also suspecting that Emma and Killian were an item. Emillian was trending as well, and Emma couldn’t help but cringe each time she was tagged in a Tweet or an Instagram fan edit.

The thumps on her trailer door finally drag her out of her own head, and she shouts for the knocker to enter.

“Hi, love,” he says, making her heart race before she even saw his face.

“Hey.” She sits up from her position on the couch as he takes a seat on the chair across the trailer.

“Did you see it?” She nods. She wasn’t able to watch him shoot the interview live as he was when she was on the show, so she had to watch it when it aired along with the rest of the country.

“You always handle those questions well.”

“It’s getting a bit insane, though.” She nods in return, agreeing that the questions they're asked about their relationshipare becoming intrusive. “Milah talked to me just now.”

“Did she?”

“Aye, she congratulated me on the interview and the finale. Said my costume looked great.”

“I would hope so; she designed in.”

He chuckles, standing from the chair and taking a seat on the couch next to her. “She asked me to dinner.”

“Oh,” Emma responds, her heart falling into her stomach. “What, uh, what did you say?”

“I said my girlfriend probably wouldn’t like that.”

She stares at him, eyes wide, and is tempted to whack him across the chest. “No, you didn’t!”

He laughs, jumping playfully away from her as she does swat at him. “No, I didn’t. But I wanted to.”

“Killian,” she sighs, flopping her body down on the couch and covering her face with her arm again. “We can’t. What if something goes wrong and it messes with our on-screen relationship? Are you willing to risk your job over this?”

“Yes,” he deadpans at her, and when she moves her arm and looks at his face, she knows he’s serious.

“Killian—”

“I am. I’m in love with you. I'm tired of hiding it.”

Her face falls, her heart beating frantically and her chest burning. “I love you, too, but…”

“What are you so afraid of? That we won’t work out? Love, we’ve been together for almost two years. This is very Emma Swan behavior that you're displaying.” She laughs at his reference to her character’s emotional constipation and leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just… I’ve never done this before.”

He kisses the top of her head gently before speaking. “It’s alright. I’m sorry I’m pushing you. We can wait. Just know that I love you and I’m all in. I know you're nervous that we might not work out, or that it would impact our jobs, but… I believe in us. I know we’re stronger than that. And I’ll wait as long as you wish for me to until you believe that, too.”

Dammit, she thinks. How could she not have fallen for him immediately after meeting him? She sighs against him and hoists herself up off the couch before planting herself on his lap, her legs straddling his and her face finding its usual spot in his neck. “I love you,” she says softly into his skin.

“I love you, Emma.” His arms run up and down her back, soothing and warming her simultaneously. “I’ve loved you since the moment I met you when I joined the show. I’ll never stop loving you.”

“Do you think we can still keep it professional if everyone knows we’re dating?”

“Aye,” he nods, and she can feel his chin scraping against the top of her head. “But I also think that a lot of people already suspect that we’re together, ever since my royal screw up on set.”

“That wasn’t so bad. I liked it.”

He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and in her ear. “Not very professional, though.”

“Is it professional to seduce your costar in your trailer an hour before shooting?” she asks boldly, pressing her nose into his neck below his ear and tracing his pulse point with her tongue.

He’s growling, and the sound goes straight to her core as his firm hands find her backside and squeeze. “No, it’s not. But that hasn’t stopped you before.”

“It’s not going to stop me now, either.”

~~~~

“We should come clean,” she whispers into the air between them once she catches her breath. The couch wasn’t quite big enough for cuddling, but they do their best, with Emma’s back pressed into the back of the couch and Killian’s bare, fuzzy butt dangerously facing the door.

“You think? Are you ready for that?”

She shrugs. “Just… you're right. I want this with you. I'm in it for the long haul. I don’t know what I’m so afraid of.”

“It makes sense to be afraid, love. We don’t know how going public might impact our relationship.”

“Yeah, but… we are stronger than that. We’re stronger than whatever the fans or critics can throw at us. I love you, and I want to be with you.”

He’s grinning as he brushes his nose against hers before pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “You're sure?”

She nods. “I’m sure.”

~~~~

They wait until season five is about to air before posting an Instagram photo of Killian kissing Emma’s temple with the captain #Emillian. It trends for weeks. Views and ratings for the show skyrocket. Emma and Killian started attending interviews together, and she finds them to be pretty tolerable.

~~~~

i’m just tagging people who have been nice to me:

@courtorderedcake @shireness-says @kmomof4 @gingerpolyglot @klynn-stormz @tohellwiththepancakes13 @emelizabeth88 @captain-emmajones @onceratheart18 @stahlop @itsfabianadocarmo @superchocovian @gingerchangeling @ilovemesomekillianjones

Please let me know if you're interested in being tagged in other stuff that I write--or if me tagging you is annoying and you want me to stop!

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believingispowerfulmagic · 3 years

Text

“The Dark Legacy” Chapter 5: How Do You Solve a Problem Like Zelena?

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Henry. Happy birthday to you!"

Henry blew out the candles on the cake and everyone gathered in Granny's cheered as the diner plunged into darkness. "Quick, someone turn on the lights!" the older woman ordered. Within seconds, the place was flooded with light again.

Regina stood next to Henry, beaming, and Emma stood on the other side. Both hugged him. "Happy birthday," she whispered in his ear.

"Thanks, Mom," he said, leaning into her hug. He then leaned toward Emma. "And thanks, Mom."

"We're all so happy you're in ours lives," she told him, kissing his head.

Mary Margaret stepped forward, holding up her camera. "Say cheese!"

"You're a menace with that thing," Regina said, shaking her head. "Who gave you that camera anyway?"

"It came with the curse, so I guess you did," Mary Margaret replied. She gave Regina such a look that Regina knew if there hadn't been company, Mary Margaret likely would've stuck her tongue out at her.

Regina rolled her eyes. "Fine. But that doesn't mean I meant for you to harass us with it every chance you get."

"Can you argue about this later so she can take the picture? Some of us want to eat that cake tonight," Will called out from where he sat with the other Merry Men. They all chuckled as he smirked at Regina.

She shot him a look before sighing. "Fine. On the count of three please?"

Mary Margaret nodded, raising her camera to her eye. "One…two…three!"

"Cheese!" Regina, Emma and Henry said at the same time. All three leaned in closer as they smiled before getting blinded by the camera's flash.

Henry recoiled, blinking a few times as he held up his hands. "Whoa, Grandma. I think we need to introduce you to your camera phone. The flash isn't as blinding."

"I didn't think it was that bright." Mary Margaret turned to David, frowning. "Was it really that bright?"

He patted her back as he led her back to their booth where Belle sat with little Neal. "Come on. Let's let Henry cut the first slice so Granny can start doling out the cake."

Robin approached, holding out the knife to Henry. "Here you go."

"Not too big," Regina warned him, knowing her son would try to take almost a quarter of the cake if left unchecked.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mom."

She watched as Henry made the first cut. He then moved the knife to the right a little before looking up at her, raising his eyebrow in an unasked question. Regina nodded and he made the second cut, pulling out his slice of the cake and placing it on a nearby plate.

Granny stepped closer to him, reaching for the knife. "You go enjoy your cake. I can take over from here."

"Thank you, Granny," he said, picking up his plate and bounding over to one of the tables.

A cloud of dark green smoke appeared between Regina and Robin. It died away to reveal an eager Roland, who tugged on her hand. "Can I have a slice, please, Mom?"

"A small one," she advised. "It's getting close to your bedtime."

He sighed but nodded. "Okay, Mom."

"Here you go," Granny said, handing him a plate with a thin slice on it. "Enjoy!"

"Thank you," Roland replied, brightly. He skipped away to join his brother and eat his cake.

Granny straightened up. "Do you two want slices?"

"Yes, please," Regina said, her mouth watering at the sight of the chocolate cake and vanilla frosting. "It looks delicious, Granny."

"Thank you," Granny said, handing them both slices. "You two go relax. I have everything under control."

Robin pressed his free hand to Regina's back. "Come on. You've been on your feet all day. You deserve some rest."

"I'm fine," she lied. Her feet did hurt and she was tired, still adjusting to raising a teenager, an active second-grader, and two babies. All she wanted to do was go home and curl up with one of her children for a nap.

He leaned forward, whispering: "I don't even need to read your mind to know that's not true."

She shot him a glare before softening her gaze, knowing he only ever had her best interest at heart. "You know me."

"I do," he replied, pulling out the chair for her. "Which is why I know that you're pushing yourself too much. Sit down. Relax. Enjoy your cake."

"You do the same," she told him. "You've been busy too."

He nodded. "I will as soon as you sit down. Deal?"

"Deal," she replied, sitting down in the chair he pulled out for her. He pushed in her chair before taking his own seat.

She dug into her cake, enjoying the sweet treat. "This is delicious."

"I agree," he said. "Almost as good as yours."

Regina smirked, scrunching her nose a bit. "You're just sucking up to me."

He shook his head. "I'm just speaking the truth."

She shook her head before looking around, frowning. Henry and Roland were accounted for but that still left two children she needed to check on. "Where are our daughters?"

"Relax. Emma has Haven," he said, motioning to a booth near to them. She leaned over a bit and relief swept through her when she saw the sheriff fighting to keep a curious Haven from stealing bites of her cake.

That was one daughter. She needed to find her other one. "And Honor?" she asked.

"Right here," Belle said, handing the sleepy girl over to Regina. "She needed a diaper change and you were busy with Henry, so I took care of it."

Regina smiled as she held out her arms for her daughter. "Thank you, Belle, I appreciate it."

"You're welcome," Belle said, placing Honor in Regina's arms. "And I'm always available if you need someone to watch the children. I love them."

"We'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Belle," Robin told her, grinning at her. She nodded before walking over to join Gold at their booth.

Regina cuddled her daughter closer as Honor yawned. "Someone is getting sleepy."

"Good. Maybe she'll let us sleep a bit longer than usual," Robin commented, taking another bite of his cake.

"You knew going into this that sleep was going to become a precious commodity," Regina teased him, rocking Honor as her eyes closed.

He chuckled, nodding. "True. But it doesn't mean I still can't hope for it."

"I can always take the nighttime feeding if you need more rest," she offered, concerned for his wellbeing.

"And steal my bonding time with my girls? No, thank you," he replied, pretending to be affronted. She smiled, loving how much he adored their daughters.

David walked over to them, motioning to one of their unused chairs. "Mind if I join you?"

"Be our guest," Robin said, nodding as he took another bite of cake.

As he sat down, David asked: "So, what's going with Zelena? I know she got community service and probation for breaking in."

Regina nodded. "She did. And we've temporarily barred her from seeing Haven until it's completed, to give her more of an incentive to do so."

"And how did she take it?"

"How do you think she took it?" Regina shot back at him, glaring at him. "She tried to curse us."

David winced. "What would've it done had it worked?"

"Turned us into frogs," she replied, annoyed. "She wasn't very original there."

Robin nodded. "At least it would've been better than a flying monkey."

"Well, at least she still had that cuff on then," David replied, shaking his head. "And thank goodness Haven is safe."

He glanced over to where the baby girl had fallen asleep against his daughter's shoulder before looking back at Robin and Regina. "So what happens next? I mean, with Zelena's custody?"

"We're just playing it by ear now," Robin replied. "She has no visitation rights and we'll make a further determination in the upcoming months."

Regina nodded. "And I'm going to give her regular updates about Haven, so she can't claim we're hiding important information or accuse us of neglecting her. She seems to be hyper-focused on that."

"Why?" David asked, tilting his head.

"Archie thinks unresolved issues from the fact that she was rejected by Cora while Regina was kept," Robin said, motioning to where the therapist sat with Marco and a couple dwarfs. "So she worries that we're neglecting Haven because we have Honor now."

He nodded. "Makes sense, in a twisted way. But you two love Haven. You'd never neglect her."

"You know that, we know that. Zelena refuses to believe it," Regina replied. "We're going to have to keep an extra close eye on her."

"You know I'll help however you need me to do that," David offered. "Emma too. We won't let anything happen to that beautiful little girl."

Regina smiled, pressing her hand to her heart. "Thank you, David."

He reached over and took her free hand in his. "We've certainly come a long way, haven't we?"

"We have," she said, looking over at everyone in the room. She had once called most of them enemies and now they were friends and family. "I've come a long way."

David stood, pushing his chair in. "I'm going to head back to my family. But remember, I'm only a phone call away."

He walked away, passing Emma as she approached the table with a fussy Haven. "I think she wants you two," Emma told them.

Robin took Haven from her, cradling the girl against his shoulder. "Thank you for entertaining her."

"Glad to do it," Emma replied, gently stroking Haven's cheek. "I'm always up for some quality godmother-goddaughter time."

"We'll keep that in mind next time we need a babysitter," Regina told her, smirking at her.

Emma didn't blink. "I look forward to it."

"Also, do you think you can drive Henry home?" Regina asked. "I think it's time we got the younger ones home but don't want to end the party for him."

"Of course we'll take Henry home. Don't worry about him. You two focus on the others and have a good night," Emma told them. She gave them a quick smile before walking back to the table where the rest of her family sat.

Robin placed Haven into her carrier, snapping the buckles together. He kissed her forehead. "Time to go home, sweetheart."

"Same for you," Regina cooed to Honor, who was already sound asleep in her arms. She carefully placed her daughter in her carrier and buckled her in. Covering her with a blanket, she nodded at Robin. "I think we're ready to go. What about Roland?"

They glanced over to where their younger son sat with the Merry Men. His eyes were starting to glaze over and he looked ready to collapse into the remnants of his cake. Regina looked at Robin, who nodded before heading over to him. He knelt next to Roland and rubbed his back. "I think it's time for bed, my boy," he said.

"But the party isn't over," he protested. "I don't want to miss any of the fun, Papa!"

"I think the party is starting to wrap up. You're not going to miss anything," Robin replied, trying to convince him to come home.

The other Merry Men came to his aid, nodding. "We're going to head back to camp ourselves. We're ready to turn in. Right, men?" Will asked, looking around at the others.

"Absolutely," Little John agreed. He let out an exaggerated yawn. "I'm ready for bed."

Convinced, Roland said goodnight to his uncles, going around the table to hug them all. He then took Robin's hand and let him lead him over to Regina. She smiled at the boy. "How about I read you a bedtime story when we get home?"

He brightened. "Can we continue reading Harry Potter, Mom?"

"Absolutely," she replied, bopping his nose. "Why don't you go say goodbye to your brother and everyone else?"

Roland nodded and bounded over to the other tables. He said goodbye to everyone else and hugged them. As he hugged Henry, the older boy stood up and walked toward them. "We're leaving?"

"Just us," Regina assured him, hugging him. "Emma's already said she would drive you home. So you can stay and continue celebrating with everyone else."

"Thanks, Mom," he said, hugging her. He then looked up at her. "Will you be up when I get home?"

She nodded, getting a little choked up that he still wanted to see her before going to bed despite being a teenager now. "I won't go to sleep until you do."

"Thanks, Mom." He then hugged Robin and told him goodnight before wishing his sisters the same.

Robin picked up both carriers, balancing his daughters easily as he grinned at Regina. "You ready?"

"I am," she said, taking Roland's hand. "How about you, sweetheart?"

He nodded before pointing toward the door. "Let's go home!"

Laughing, she and Robin headed out of the diner. They paused at the door to bid everyone a goodnight and then stepped out into the summer night. After loading the children into the truck Robin now drove, they climbed in and buckled up. He didn't start the car right away, reaching over to take her hand. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, not sure why he asked her that. "Why?"

"I know it sometimes hurts to think of Henry as growing up and birthdays are perfect reminders of that," he replied.

She smiled, touched that he would be concerned about her feelings. Henry's birthday was bittersweet—he was getting older but she knew he would always be her little prince. And she had three more children to love just as much as she loved him.

Regina squeezed his hand. "I'm fine and really happy that Henry came into my life. Just like I'm happy about Roland, Haven and Honor being part of my life as well."

"I'm happy to be a part of your life too, Mom!" Roland declared from behind her, smiling widely at her.

She looked back, returning his smile. "We need to plan for your birthday too. It's coming up, right?"

"Yes, it is," Roland said, holding up all five fingers on one hand and one finger on the other. "I'm going to be this many."

"Which is?" she asked, having quizzed him over the summer to make sure he was ready for school to start again in the fall.

"Six!" he declared proudly.

She smiled at him. "That's right! What do you want to do for your birthday?"

"Can I go camping?" he asked. He looked to his father as Robin pulled out of his parking spot. "Please, Papa?"

Robin shared a look with Regina and she knew he had the same concerns she did. "It's going to be cold by that time, Roland," he said.

"Too cold to go camping," Regina added.

"Oh," he replied, frowning. "I guess I can do something else…"

Regina hated seeing him so disappointed, so she came up with a compromise. "What if you go camping in our living room?"

He perked up, looking intrigued. "How?"

"We can set up a blanket fort you and a few friends can sleep in. And we can roast marshmallows in the fireplace and turn off all the lights and turn on sounds to make it seem like we're outside," she rattled off, already planning the perfect winter camping party for her younger son.

Roland cheered. "Thank you, Mom! You're the best!"

"You're only going to be able to invite a few friends though," Robin warned. "We don't have a lot of room in the living room."

"That's okay," Roland replied. "I can figure out who I really want there."

His father nodded. "Good. And then we can have a separate party with the Merry Men. You know they'll want to celebrate."

"Can we have everyone there? A family party?" Roland asked.

Regina pressed her hand over her heart, glad that he knew their ragtag group was a family. "Of course we can have the family there. Everyone will want to celebrate with you."

"Good," Roland replied, his eyes starting to close as his head fell back against the seat. "I want everyone there too."

Exchanging a pleased look with Robin, Regina leaned back and closed her eyes. She was starting to have a normal life—or as normal as life got in Storybrooke—and she loved it. Happiness at last was hers.

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#once upon a time #outlaw queen #oq au #oq ff #dark robin saga #the dark legacy

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rizlowwritessortof · 4 years

Text

Compelled

Have you ever had a really bad day at work? I’ve never had a day quite as bad as Brandi’s - but damn, I’d love to use this method to relieve the stress...

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Brandi Neal (female OFC)

Word Count: 5075 (blame him)

Warnings: The usual smut, very gentle dom Dean, nothing y’all ain’t seen before in my other fics

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brandi nodded attentively as the homicide detective spoke, but later that day she wouldn’t even remember what he’d said. The shock of finding her co-worker literally in pieces in the office next to hers was taking its toll, leaving her more than a little shaken. “Ms. Neal, thank you. We’ll be in touch if we have any more questions,” he said, leaving her with a sympathetic nod.

“Brandi? Can I get you anything?” her assistant asked, and she drew a shaky breath, shaking her head.

“Thanks, Sarah, but I think I just need a minute to absorb everything. Please, no phone calls for a while, okay?” Sarah nodded with a smile, then turned to let Brandi enter her office and close the door. She blew out a breath, forcing herself to unclench her fists. The stack of files waiting on her desk would at least be a distraction, something to keep her mind off the carnage she had witnessed that morning. As she moved to go around and take her seat, a sharp knock at her door made her jump, and the entire pile hit the floor, papers spilling out everywhere. She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment before lowering herself to her knees to begin gathering the mess. “Come in!” she said, her frustration obvious in her voice.

Sarah opened the door, peeking in apologetically. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Neal – but there’s an FBI agent here to see you.”

God, what else. She sighed. “Okay, send him in.”

“Already in. Need a hand?” She bristled at the tone of his voice. He sounded almost amused.

“No, thanks. What can I do for you? I already spoke to the police.”

“I understand. But I’m afraid I’m going to need to hear it again. For our own records.”

She felt her temper flare, channeling it into scooping up the scattered papers. “As I told the police, I walked into Denny’s office to ask him a question this morning, his door was open, and there he was, torn to pieces.”

“Did he have any enemies that you know of?”

“I don’t know,” she snapped. “I don’t know him that well.”

“Is there anything he was involved in here at the office that could...”

“I told you, I don’t know.” She stretched out a hand, reaching for a sheet of paper that had flown a couple of feet away.

“You realize, Ms. Neal, that this is a federal case. We can compel you to speak to us.” His voice was clipped, authoritative, and she bit her tongue for a moment, retrieving the last document and pulling them all together into a messy pile.

When she spoke again, it was with a cold, controlled anger. “I am speaking to you. And I don’t know how you can ‘compel’ me to tell you something I don’t know anything...” She stood and turned, the disorganized mess in her arms, and a pair of striking green eyes froze her in place. “...about.” Her face grew warm, and suddenly she was painfully aware of the wisps of hair in her face, the button that had come undone on her blouse, the dryness of her mouth. My god, he was attractive - chiseled jaw, perfectly sculpted lips, thick lashes framing those stunning eyes. The thought crossed her mind that he could probably compel her to do a lot of things, and his eyes narrowed just a touch as he watched her reaction to him. It was almost as if he could read her thoughts, his eyebrow raising just a touch, his eyes roaming to her now-exposed cleavage, those lips curling into a sinful smirk for just one second before his professional demeanor took back over, and he cleared his throat.

“So there’s nothing you can think of that might have, uh, put him on somebody’s hit list?”

“There’s nothing work-related that I can think of, and I really don’t know him very well personally, Agent...” Brandi answered, swallowing nervously.

“Gibbons. Dean Gibbons.”

“Agent Gibbons. I’m sorry, I wish I could be of more help. I was just unlucky enough to find his body this morning.”

“So you saw no one leaving, anything like that?”

“No. I think it must have happened last night, although I don’t know that for sure.”

“I can check with the coroner on time of death. Nothing else you can think of that might be helpful?” His voice was more relaxed now, almost kind – not to mention deep and rich and sexy as hell, now that she no longer wanted to stab him with her letter opener.

“No. I’m sorry.”

“All right. If you think of anything else, anything at all, please give me a call.” He handed her a business card, and she took it from him, careful not to touch him.

“I will.”

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Neal.” He gave her a nod with a little smile, then turned to leave, and she dropped into her chair, shaking. Her assistant peeked in, a remorseful look on her face.

“Brandi, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Sarah. Not your fault. It’s the FBI, not like you could have sent him away.”

“Well, let me know if you need anything. I’ll try not to disturb you.” Sarah pulled the door shut, and Brandi cradled her head in her hands, closing her eyes. What she really wanted to do at the moment was go home, pour a very large glass of wine and climb into a hot bath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours later, she did just that. The bath soothed her, and the wine didn’t hurt, either. She was well into her second glass, feeling much more relaxed, when the doorbell rang. She was only wearing a camisole and a pair of yoga pants, but it was probably just a delivery, anyway. She opened the door, then felt her cheeks flush with color as she looked up into the green eyes of Agent Gibbons.

“Agent. I… wasn’t expecting… how did you know where...”

He grinned. “FBI.”

She laughed nervously. “Well, of course, I mean… Come in, please.” She backed up and let him step into the room, closing the door and turning back towards him, her arms hugging her middle as she spoke. “What can I do for you?”

His eyes swept over her, lingering on her chest for a moment before he met her gaze again and smiled. “Now that’s what I’d call a loaded question.”

“Is this… about the murder?”

“Actually, I’m off duty. I’m here because I picked up a vibe from you today. And I wanted to see if my hunch was right.”

“A – a vibe?” A million butterflies were fluttering in her belly, and she tried to heed the inner voice telling her to calm down, but the delicious curve of his lips as he smiled, his self-assured manner, his focused stare were all making her feel very much the opposite. When he took a step towards her, she backed up against the door, and he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his eyes roaming over her again.

“I got the feeling that you wouldn’t mind too much if I – compelled you to talk. Or to do other things, maybe.” The timbre of his voice flowed over her like melted honey, a smoky edge to it that made her insides quiver.

“Wha...what do you mean?” Her voice was nearly a whisper, and she stopped breathing as he leaned in a little closer.

“Oh, I think you know what I mean, Brandi.” He straightened, looking down at her with that piercing gaze. “Now if you tell me I’m wrong, I’ll go. Maybe I didn’t read you like I thought I did.” He didn’t touch her, but it felt as if he did when he let his eyes wander down over her body again, slow and deliberate. “Was I wrong, Brandi? Or do you need someone to take charge for a while?” He raked his gaze back up, staring down at her until she tilted her head back to look into his eyes, her lips parted, the breath frozen in her lungs. She gave him a slight nod, her face hot, and averted her eyes, but he reached a finger to her jaw and held her in place. “Baby, I’m gonna need to hear you.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, Dean.”

She shivered at the authority in his voice, then nodded again. “Yes, Dean.”

He dragged his fingers along her jaw line, down the slope of her neck, resting them on her shoulder. “And you’re sure you want this? Because if you don’t, I can leave.”

“I’m sure, Dean.”

He bent closer, nuzzling his nose in her hair. “That’s my good girl,” he whispered in her ear, then kissed her, assertive, demanding, taking whatever sensible thought or will she had left with him. She wobbled against him as he pulled back, and he took her by the shoulders, steadying her.

“Whoa, there. I think somebody needs to sit down.” He took a step back, stripping off his jacket and tie, tossing them to a nearby chair. She watched as he unbuttoned his cuffs, quickly rolling his sleeves up, then reaching for her hand. “Come with me.” She let him guide her to the sofa, where he took a seat and looked up at her. “Hop on, sweetheart. I’m not finished kissing you yet.” He guided her to straddle his lap, pulling her up tight against him, and she inhaled sharply as she felt his erection between her thighs, unable to stop herself from pushing harder against him. “You like that, baby? Got me all hard. You like my hard cock between your legs, don’t you?” She whimpered softly, nodding as he nibbled at her lips. “What did I say about answering me?”

“Yes, Dean. I like it. I really like it.”

“That’s better. Well, go ahead, take what you want.” His hands gripped her hips, encouraging her to move against him as he captured her lips again, kissing her hard, his tongue stroking into her mouth in rhythm with her thrusts, his big hands squeezing and urging her on. Her heart was pounding, her clit throbbing, her head spinning, and she felt herself beginning to shake, but he grabbed her tight, holding her still. “Not yet, baby, we’ve got a long night ahead. Don’t want to go finishing too early, do we? Just take a breath.” He gentled her down with little kisses, drinking in the soft whimpers from her lips. “Such a good girl for me, Brandi.”

Okay, she was going to come just from hearing him say things like that if he wasn’t careful.

He reached one hand to lift her chin a little, his thumb tracing the shape of her lips, then pushing gently between them. She closed her eyes, running her tongue over the digit, then sucking lightly on the tip, and he hummed appreciatively. “I’ve been imagining those lips around my cock all day long, Brandi. Wanted to take you right there in your office when I walked in and you were down on your knees like you were waiting for me, that sweet ass in that tight skirt… Mmmmm. Would have liked to bend you over your desk and...” Brandi let out a pitiful whimper, sucking even harder on his thumb, and he pulled it out slowly, reaching for a throw pillow and dropping it to the floor between his knees. “Why don’t you get down on your knees for me, sweetheart, I wanna fuck that pretty mouth.”

He gently urged her back, and she lowered herself to her knees, looking up at him as she reached for his belt, then unfastened his suit pants. He was fully erect and twitched beneath his boxers as she reached for the waistband. “Oh, somebody’s really eager to meet you, baby.” Her heart was pounding as she pulled his boxers down enough to free him, letting him bounce free and slap against his belly.

She scooted herself in, snug between his thighs, and he inhaled, a slow hiss between his teeth, as she leaned forward to lick him from root to tip, then wrapped her hands around him and took the head into her mouth with a quiet moan. He swore under his breath as she suckled at him softly, her tongue sweeping over the smooth, hot skin. When she pulled off, nudging the tip of her tongue into his slit and then plunging down to take him in as far as she could, he groaned, his hand moving to grasp a handful of her hair at the back of her neck.

He swore steadily in a low rumble as she moved up and then forced herself down further each time, fighting not to gag as he breached her throat. She sucked hard, working her tongue over him, finally just letting herself relax as he lost himself and began to thrust, his hand wound so tight in her hair that her scalp throbbed with her heartbeat.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna blow, sweetheart,” he growled, then unloaded, filling her mouth and throat as she struggled to swallow. He finally relaxed enough to let her back away and take a deep breath through her nose, and she continued sucking softly as he finished, untangling his fingers from her hair and slumping against the back of the sofa.

She leaned against him, spent, cleaning him off before laying her head on her forearm, and he reached up to comb his fingers through her hair. “Surprised me there, Brandi. I didn’t intend to come this soon. But damn, you’re good at that.” She smiled, and he moved his hand. “Look at me, baby.” She pushed herself upright and tilted her head back to look into his eyes. “You doin’ okay? Tell me the truth.”

“Yes, Dean. I’m good.”

His lips curved in a one-sided grin. “Damn straight you are. Now I think this party needs to move somewhere more comfortable.” He leaned up and bent to kiss her, fingers trailing down her arm and sending goosebumps over her, making her shiver. “C’mon, gorgeous.” He stood, reaching for her hand, and she led him down the hall to the bedroom.

He stopped her next to the bed and pulled her into his arms, kissing her until she was dizzy, his hands moving over her back and down to grip her ass, pulling her close. “Mmmm, Brandi… Intoxicating, just like your name,” he muttered against her lips, then turned her around so her back was pressed against his chest. His fingers began to work at the buttons of her camisole, slow and deliberate, moaning in admiration as he pulled the last one free and slipped the garment off her shoulders. He cupped her breasts in his hands, squeezing and kneading at them, nibbling at her neck as his fingers began to pluck and tug at her nipples.

“I need you naked and on the bed, baby, on your back,” he instructed, letting his fingers roam over her back as she bent to remove her pants and panties. Before she could move towards the bed, he pulled her back again, one hand slipping down between her thighs to just hold her for a moment, and groaning in her ear. “So wet for me, baby. I can’t wait to taste you.” He drug his fingers through her folds and then let her go to crawl up on the bed, her legs shaking. He had her in such a state that she’d probably come the second he touched her, and she hoped like hell that he was going to let that happen.

He stood over her, looking down at her as he ran his fingers lightly along her jawline, her collarbone, barely grazing the upper swell of her breasts. Then he slid his palms down the length of her arms, taking her hands in his and pulling her arms up over her head, wrapping her fingers around the slats in the headboard. “Be a good girl and hold on tight. Don’t let go.”

She looked up at him, then closed her eyes as ran his thumb over her cheekbone, leaning into his touch. “Yes, Dean,” she whispered, and he bent to brush a feather-light kiss over her lips before he turned and moved down to the foot of the bed.

He settled himself between her thighs, propping them apart with his broad shoulders, and she gasped as his tongue swept over her with a firm, broad stroke. He growled softly at his first taste, going back for more, then taking his time to explore her thoroughly, teasing and nudging at every spot that made her moan and twitch. He tugged at her clit with his lips, then sucked at it briefly, and Brandi’s back arched as she cried out his name, begging. “Dean! Please, please, Dean, oh god, please...”

“You want me to make you come, pretty girl?”

“Yes, Dean, please, please...”

He smiled, slipping one arm under her thigh, wrapping it back around and bracing it across her lower belly to hold her in place. Then he slipped his index finger inside her, stroking and petting at her walls as she whined and sighed softly. After a moment or two, he added his middle finger, seeking until she shouted as he found the sensitive patch inside her, and began to plunge his fingers into her, hard and deep, hitting that sweet spot unerringly. He bent to pull her clit into the heat of his mouth again, sucking hard and flicking his tongue over it until she let out a rasping cry and came, shaking violently, the headboard creaking from her grip as her orgasm surged through her body. He didn’t stop, not until he had sent her rolling into another climax and she was begging him to stop. He slowed, then pulled his fingers from her, gently laving over her and then rising to his knees between her feet, sucking his fingers between his lips to clean them off. “I knew you’d be delicious.”

He moved around to sit on the edge of the bed beside her, reaching for her hands. “Let go, sweetheart,” he coaxed, pulling her arms back down and rubbing her shoulders gently. He leaned down and kissed her, little nibbles at first, then deeper, more intense as she began to respond. He trailed one hand down from her shoulder to palm her breast, squeezing with a moan, pulling away from her lips. He worked his way down her throat and chest, finally taking the other nipple between his teeth and tugging lightly before sucking it into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue.

Her hands now free, Brandi buried her fingers in his hair, grasping the short strands tight as he growled in approval. When he had her writhing from his pleasurable torture, he raised his head and looked down at her, his eyes dark with arousal. “So you got one more in there for me, baby? Because I want to bury my cock in that sweet pussy, feel you come undone. I want you to be my good girl and squeeze me tight until I explode.”

“Oh, god... yes, Dean!”

He stood once again, shoving his hand into his pocket and pulling out a condom, dropping it to the table before efficiently stripping down. She couldn’t take her eyes from his toned, lean body, lightly tanned and dusted with faint freckles and multiple scars, and she wished for the time to explore and learn every mark and swell and rolling muscle of his physique. He turned to rip open the package and sheath himself, and a wanton moan escaped her lips. He smiled, reaching over to squeeze at her nipple. “Like what you see, sweetheart? I’m kind of loving the view you’re giving me, too.” He climbed up over her and settled between her thighs, shifting his hips to make more room, his heated stare making her breathless with anticipation.

He caged her in with his forearms, letting her slip her arms around him, her hands gliding over the smooth muscles of his back as he kissed her feverishly, done with teasing. He moved his hips, his erection nudging against her, then notching at her opening, and he pressed forward, filling her slowly, inch by inch. She pulled away from their kiss, panting, head pushed back into the pillow as she arched up beneath him, trembling. “Dean… oh my god… please don’t stop, please...”

He finally buried himself to the hilt, holding still for just one second before pulling back and then smoothly stroking back in. “Baby, don’t worry, I’m not gonna stop until you’re coming for me again. Damn, you feel so good, so hot, gripping me so tight I can barely move.” He leaned on his left arm, reaching for a pillow with his right, urging her to lift up so he could wedge it beneath her lower back. Then he pulled out and drove back inside her, watching as she gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head for a moment as he hit just the right spot. “There we go. Hold on, sweetheart, I’m gonna take you for a ride.”

He began a steady rhythm, a smooth drag out then a hard thrust back in, reaching the deepest parts of her, his pelvic bone rubbing against her clit with every down stroke. Every powerful thrust sent sparks zipping through her nerves and forced a muffled cry from her throat, and it only spurred him on. He began to drive in hard, their bodies slamming together until she was shaking and begging, for what she didn’t know. He pushed her knee up towards her chest, tipping her back even farther, and groaned as she shouted at the impact when he fucked into her harder and faster, the whole bed rocking with his effort. His teeth were clenched, jaw working as he kept up the punishing rhythm, determined to see her fall apart before he let himself go.

He reached down between them, capturing her clit between his fingers and rubbing, and she screamed hoarsely, going stiff, squeezing his cock so hard it hurt before she began to thrash and quake underneath him. He could hold back no longer, slamming into her with such force that they would both feel bruised later, feeling himself swelling, molten heat exploding from him in seemingly endless streams. All thought left him, the pulsing pleasure, the fierce, all-consuming release the only thing he was aware of, her mindless cries and whimpers almost faded into the background.

His legs were shaking as he felt himself throb weakly, finally empty, and he lowered himself down, his head on her shoulder. His back burned with the scratches he hadn’t even noticed until that moment, her arms now flung out to her sides, her muscles too spent to move them. He winced and grunted as aftershocks still hit them both randomly, weak little whines barely escaping her throat.

He finally mustered the strength to pull out, taking the condom off and disposing of it, then collapsing back onto the bed. She hadn’t moved yet, and he shifted her arm to rest across her ribs, then pulled her close, coaxing her to her side, her head on his shoulder. “Okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, and she let out a couple of incoherent sounds before finally nodding.

“I’m good. ‘Course, I might be dead.”

“Hey, if we’ve gotta go, that’s the way to do it. Holy fuck,” he breathed.

They laid there, silent, for a few moments before Brandi reached up to lay a hand on his chest. “Dean – thank you. I didn’t know how much I needed this. After what happened… I was acting like I was okay, but I was falling apart.”

He smiled down at her and leaned for a soft kiss. “Don’t need to thank me, you just gave me the best couple of hours I’ve had in… I can’t remember when.” His eyes fell on the clock, and he sighed quietly. “I suppose I should get out of your hair, you probably have to work tomorrow. Sorry about coming over so late – but I’m really not too sorry.”

She snuggled a little closer. “You really don’t have to go, unless you want to.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s nice, having you here.”

He kissed her again. “Well, if you don’t mind… we’d better get some sleep.” She nodded, finally letting her eyes drift closed as he wrapped her in his arms.

The next morning, Brandi rushed around, getting dressed and trying to keep her eyes off the naked man still asleep in her bed. She had gotten up, showered, tiptoed around to keep from waking him, but now she almost wished… But there wasn’t time. She was standing on one foot, reaching behind her to put her foot into the other pump when he cleared his throat and spoke, his voice making her want to crawl back under the covers. “Morning, pretty girl.”

“Good morning, yourself, sexy man.” She smiled as he actually blushed a little, a crooked grin on his face, his hair rumpled and adorable. She really, really didn’t want to go to work. “So, listen. If you have any more questions, or anything, I’ll be in my office all day. My office with the lock on the door, and my own bathroom. Just in case you need anything, you know, at all.”

A low, sexy laugh rumbled in his chest. “I think Miss Corporate Executive is deep-down a very naughty girl.”

“Really not that deep.” Dean laughed as she smiled, shrugging. “I have to be all proper and business-like at work, it’s kind of like – acting,” she smiled, shooting a wink his way. “Pretending to be all classy.”

He cocked an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes at her. “Listen – you’re one of the classiest women I’ve ever met. Nobody says classy means not having any fun.”

“So true.” She finally managed to get both shoes on, turning to the mirror to put on her earrings. “Well, I have to leave. Feel free to use the shower and raid the fridge, whatever you need. But can you lock up, and bring my extra set of keys to my office when you leave?”

The slow smile that curved his lips made her stomach do a little flip. “Oh, sweetheart, I’ll be there. Pretty sure there’s more investigating to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that morning, he showed up at the office, and she welcomed him in with a smile. “Agent! Please come in. Can we get you some coffee or anything?”

He gave her a little smile and a wink that Sarah, standing behind him a step, didn’t see. “I think I’ve got everything I need.”

“Thank you, Sarah,” Brandi said with a smile, and her assistant backed out, closing the door behind her.

Before the latch clicked, Dean was behind her desk, pulling her up and into his arms, kissing her hungrily, his hand gripping her ass.

“These damn skirts of yours, they drive me crazy,” he mumbled against her lips, and she giggled.

“Wait till you find out I didn’t put any underwear on this morning.” She laughed softly again at his moan, and his hand moved down to the hem of her skirt, his fingers slipping underneath and pulling the fabric up and out of his way.

“I think you’d better have a seat, naughty girl. Pretty sure there’s some investigating I need to do right here,” he teased, working his hand between her thighs. “Sit down and spread those legs for me, gorgeous. And remember, you have to be quiet. This is a place of business.”

He gently pushed her back until she was in front of her chair, and she sat down, scooting up to the edge as he dropped to his knees in front of her, one large hand on each of her knees as he spread her wide. “Fuck,” he growled, then ducked down and buried his face in her pussy, his tongue thrusting inside of her as she gasped.

“Dean, oh my god...” she whispered harshly, holding on to the arms of her chair for dear life. She had just thrown her head back against the chair, so near the edge that she could taste it, when a knock sounded at her door. Her eyes widened, and Dean looked up at her, his eyes shining with mirth. He gathered his legs in, hunching down farther so he wouldn’t be seen, and Brandi took a breath, calling out, “Yes?”

Sarah stuck her head in the door. “Sorry to bother you, Brandi. The Kowalski contract is due today, do you need me to do anything with that?” Brandi struggled to keep her face composed as the devil between her thighs slipped a finger inside her and wiggled it. She cleared her throat, her hand flying up to rub at her forehead. “Brandi? Are you all right?” Sarah glance around the room. “Where’s Agent Gibbons?”

“Bathroom,” she said bluntly, trying not to squirm. “He’s in the bathroom. Listen, the file with the completed contract is on the table there by my door. If you would please go through it with a fine-tooth comb, that would be wonderful. Yesterday was traumatic, I just want to make sure I didn’t miss something. Thank you, Sarah.” As the girl turned to leave, she continued, her voice a little strained. “Also, please, no interruptions unless it’s a dire emergency. Agent Gibbons wants to go over some company information, making sure it had nothing to do with the murder. There’s just so much to go over, if you could just take messages and put out the small fires, I’d greatly appreciate it. Thank you, Sarah, you’re a gem.”

Sarah nodded and smiled, grabbing the contract and leaving, closing the door. Brandi bopped Dean on the head as he laughed, shoving him back with a giggle. “Now, Agent Gibbons, go lock the damn door!”

There was a lot of investigating done in the next few hours. In her chair, over her desk, on the counter in the bathroom… It all went off (and so did they – a lot) without a hitch, other than the struggle to keep the entire office from hearing what was going on behind Brandi’s closed door. And damn it, Dean forgot to drop off her keys. Guess he’d have to drop by her place again that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags for mah babes:

@saenalife @deanscarlett @jensensgotyoudean @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @geeklibrarian @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @aprofoundbondwithdean @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @mrswhozeewhatsis @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sleep-silent-angel @darcia22 @winchesterprincessbride @cavillanche @ellen-reincarnated1967 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @deanslittleangel2y5 @melanie451 @lovin-ackles @spectaculacular-sammy @bookchic20 @jodyri @selma-jean @savingapplepie-eatingthings @angelofwinchester17 @kittenofdoomage @masked-maiden42 @lean-mean-deanwinchester @ericuhlorain @undecided-garden @ceeceewinchester @typicalweirdbookworm @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit @youtoldalie @tanithlowisabamf @deandoesthingstome @jxackles @nerdwholikesword @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic @kreweofimp @gabavaldman @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @darkx143 @disassociativedogma @ioanashalala @jencharlan @deansthirstblog @dorky-and-i-know-it @mischief-maker1 @winchestersandwordprocessors @percussiongirl2017 @bringmesomepie56 @akshi8278 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @torn-and-frayed @sandlee44 @wingedcatninja @evansrogerskitten @emoryhemsworth @peaceinourtime82

#compelled #dean fic #dean smut #dean x ofc #gentle dom dean #smutty smut smut #maybe a li'l fluff #this is what happens when i talk to liz about dean #so basically her fault #:D

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rhinkthreeways · 4 years

Text

“Trust me.” (Fluffy version)

“Is everything all right?”

Link cast a withering glance toward the tall man’s direction.

Link Neal was a popular, progressive junior U.S. Senator. His boyish good looks, charm and deep roots in rural North Carolina had been a strong pull for voters. But not everyone was in favor of his policies and his unwillingness to be bought rankled even the most seasoned lobbyist. It was only after a deactivated bomb found outside his D.C. apartment spurred the President to order Secret Service protection extended to Senator Neal. It had only been a month, but the last two weeks found Link confined to his home in North Carolina. He felt suffocated under the team assigned to him. There seemed to be no end to their watchful eyes.

But the tall man standing across the room was different. Rhett. He didn’t mind being under his scrutiny. He just hoped Rhett liked what he saw.

“Not particularly.” Link said sullenly, the book he was trying to read flopping into his lap. He sighed deeply and rubbed his hands over his face.

Rhett remained standing where he was, the silence almost unbearable for Link. Link turned his hands over, pretending to inspect them.

“I just wish this guy would be caught already. I miss being outside. I miss being normal.” He whispered the last part as his anxieties about his position in the Senate reared their ugly head.

He could hear shuffling and he looked up to find Rhett missing. Link could feel his heart drop. He really liked Rhett and thought they had some special connection. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he felt like he could have been Rhett’s friend in another life. But a new anxiety made him think that was all in his imagination. He sighed deeply and let his head fall back with his eyes closed.

Minutes later, he heard a cough. He opened his eyes to find Rhett standing in front of him. He had changed out of his suit into a button down, jacket and jeans, though Link could still make out the shape of his holster. Link had never seen him in normal clothes but he was a revelation.

Rhett shoved a hoodie into Link’s hands. “Come on.”

Link felt stunned. “What?”

“Come on. Put your shoes on.”

“But...but...I thought—“ his words sounded almost like a protest, but his actions said otherwise as he followed Rhett and grabbed his shoes by the door. He was silenced with a look from Rhett who opened the back door. His stomach flipped.

“Trust me. Just keep low and close to me.”

Silently, they moved out across Link’s backyard and through his neighbors’ yard. As they approached the other street, Rhett hustled to a pickup truck, pulling open the door and motioned for Link to quickly get in. He did as Rhett turned the ignition. With the engine rumbling, Rhett pulled away from the curb and drove.

Link looked out the window as Rhett drove. He loved his neighborhood and felt immense guilt over giving them any level of fear with his being home.

“Mind if I put on some music?” Rhett asked, fiddling with his phone at a stop sign.

“Sure.”

Before Link knew it, Merle was playing on the stereo and the windows were down. Cool, summer air flooded his senses as the sound of crickets played their melodies. For a moment, all his anxieties melted away. Link felt a freedom he hadn’t known since college when he would drive down these very roads.

Speaking of…

“You seem to know your way around this area pretty well,” Link asked, eyeing Rhett out of the corner of his eye.

Rhett smiled without taking his eyes off the road. ”I went to Western Harnett.”

Link’s eyes went wide. “What? But you’re the same age as me. I feel like I would have remembered you.”

“I was on the basketball team. It’s okay. I remember you. Face like that, it’s hard to forget. You really haven’t changed much.”

Link’s face felt like it was on fire and his stomach filled with butterflies. But suddenly, a flash of a memory played out in his mind. A basketball game he was dragged to. Seeing the tallest guy he’d ever seen. Thinking how cute he was. Meeting him after the game. A mention of pizza after. A quick handshake that ended too quickly as the boy was whisked away to the locker room.

Link chanced a glance over to Rhett. He was still cute, but studying his face, his beard, his wavy hair—he’d use the word ‘gorgeous’ now.

“I think I do remember now,” Link whispered. “Senior year?”

Rhett smiled. “Yep.”

Link hummed as he smiled. “If I remember correctly, you were supposed to go to Dino’s after the game.”

Rhett’s smile faltered a bit. “I ended up having to get home. My dad was pretty strict.”

“Oh.” There was an edge of sadness that Link couldn’t hide. Rhett glanced over.

“You know, pizza sounds pretty good about now. What do you say? We’ll call ahead for carryout and bring it back to the house? Maybe pick up where we left off?”

Link smiled.

“Okay. No olives though.”

He could do with the end of the bodyguard detail, but maybe no end in sight when it came to Rhett would be a good thing.

#rhink #rhink fic #rtw: fluff #writer: sass-and-panache #prompt: trust me #senator!link #agent!rhett #bodyguard au

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years

Text

Nowhere to Run by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Or on FF

Tagging: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jonesfandomfanatic @jrob64 @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx

Chapter 8: The Plan

Emma woke as the sunlight reached her face. She snuggled down into her blankets, enjoying the warmth they provided to her. The blankets were plush and soft against her skin, something she did not have the luxury of having the last ten years. Henry and Emma had been afforded a single woolen blanket that they shared on their old mattress in the basement or whatever room he would trap them in for the moment. Many times, in the winter, they had huddled together using her body to keep her son warm.

Looking over she watched with gratitude as Henry was curled into the comforter, Rogers nuzzling against his chest, a smile on the boy’s face.

She heard a noise echoing through the house, the clang of metal in the distance. She sat up, yawning before stretching her feet to the floor and wandering into the bathroom. She found a brush in the bottom drawer, one she recognized as hers, and ran the bristles through her hair. Killian had left two new toothbrushes on the sink for her and Henry.

When she finished getting ready, she slipped quietly out of the room, Rogers following at her heels. She found Killian in the kitchen, hunched over the stove while he stirred a pan of scrambled eggs. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants, and nothing else. Emma stood in the door frame, admiring the man in front of her, she had forgotten what it was like to desire someone.

She had determined that even ten years later, he was still the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on. His body had changed in the years since she had been with him, but he had stayed in excellent shape, his back was firm and taut, even though she could tell he had gained weight since they were together, but it made him even more attractive to her. By the time she realized her gaze was lingering over his firm backside, Rogers betrayed her by drawing his attention toward her.

“Morning, Emma. Hope I didn’t wake you. I thought you and Henry might want some breakfast before we met with David.”

He turned, leaning against the stove, crossing his arms in front of his chest. She mentally reminded herself to keep her eyes on his face, not to trail down his body or spend time wondering if he still went commando when wearing sweatpants.

“Emma?”

She flinched, realizing she had been stuck in her head, staring at him. “Sorry, still sleepy.” She laughed. “Um, breakfast sounds great. I’ll get Henry up.”

She retreated quickly to the bedroom, waking her son to ensure they had time to eat and make it to the station before 8am.

By the time they pulled up to the station, they were ten minutes late, and had missed multiple calls from David who was clearly concerned about Killian making good on his promise to return Emma first thing in the morning.

“Sorry, I’m not used to getting a kid out the door in enough time to get across town.” Killian replied honestly as Robin glared at him as soon as they reached his desk.

“Hello again, Emma.” Robin smiled, looking over at Killian with concern. “Captain has a guest in his office, he wants to see you both. I can watch Master Henry.”

Emma followed Killian nervously through the building toward the Captain’s office. The blinds were closed, and they knocked before entering the room. When Emma stepped inside, she recognized the woman sitting across from David at his desk. She had met her twice in the hospital after more than one brutal attack she had received from Neal.

“Jones, Emma. This is Mary Margaret; she works over at Harbor View Medical Center.”

The woman looked up and stared at Emma. “I remember you.” She said softly.

“I remember you too, Emma. I’m so happy to finally see you again.” The woman stood from her seat.

“Emma, we would like to be able to use your hospital records as evidence.” David declared.

“I didn’t use my real name.” She said with a frown.

“I actually flagged them after trying to report your injuries, I figured it wasn’t your real name and you were always gone before I could alert security, but I hoped that one day I would see you again. Your injuries were especially memorable, and no one should have to continue to live with that.”

Emma glanced at Killian nervously, swallowing before speaking. “Can I…can I talk to you privately?”

Mary Margaret looked at David, and he nodded, “We’ll just be outside. Take your time.”

Killian lightly grazed her shoulder and she turned toward him with a nod, offering him a shy smile before he followed David out the door.

“How are you doing, Emma?” The woman asked taking a seat and offering her a chair beside her.

“I just wanted to thank you for everything you did for me in the past. I know you tried to help, and I wasn’t very cooperative.”

“Emma, you did what you had to do to survive. No one faults you for that.”

“I had to protect my son. Neal never let him come with me to the hospital. He always kept us separate so that I wouldn’t do anything.”

“That must have been terrifying.” She said softly, reaching out to take her hand. “How are you coping with being away from him?”

“I’m…” She sighed, guilt overcoming her as she turned her eyes to the floor. “I feel like I’ve done something wrong. By leaving him. How fucked up is that?”

“Emma, you were with this man for ten years. He conditioned you to be afraid of him, to want to please him. It’s natural to be scared or feel that you’ve disappointed him in some way.”

“How long am I going to be like this?”

“I can’t answer that unfortunately, I can recommend you a good therapist. Dr. Hopper is the best around.”

“Therapists are for weak people.” She grunted.

“Therapy is to help you talk about how you’re feeling and the way those feelings cause you to interact with others. It will help you resolve what happened to you. It doesn’t make you weak. You are a very strong woman to have withstood the violence and emotional abuse you suffered.”

“Will I always be afraid of being close to another person?”

“How do you mean?”

“Killian, he’s my…my husband.” The woman looked confused for a moment before the realization of her words were met with understanding.

“I’m sorry, Captain Nolan didn’t tell me you were married.”

“It was complicated.” She said with a light snort. “But now, every time he touches me, I flinch.”

“It’s going to take time for you to react normally. The important part is for you to know that you are in a safe environment. He’ll need to be patient, take things slow. Try the little things until you feel like you are ready to move to the next thing. Start with something small, like holding his hand, or a hug. It may be easier if you initiate contact with others for a while, until you get used to someone else showing you affection. But there is no right or wrong way to heal, Emma. Neal broke your self-esteem, took away your ability to trust and violated your will to choose, only you can take back what he stole from you.”

She smiled at her, looking down at her hands, feeling comforted by another person.

“I’ll leave Dr. Hopper’s card with David.”

“Thank you for talking to me. I don’t know what to say to Captain Nolan or Killian.”

“They both seem to care a great deal about you, I have a feeling they will let you take all the time you need to come to them.” She paused. “How is Henry handling things?”

“I’m not sure. He doesn’t trust a lot of people. He seems to like Killian, but I know this isn’t easy on him.”

“Dr. Hopper sees kids too; it might be a good idea for both of you to have someone else to talk to.”

“Thank you, I will look into it.”

She was happy to have had the opportunity to speak to the woman. Not that she felt better, it was just nice to know that what she was experiencing was normal behavior. Emma laughed to herself, it wasn’t like anything going on around her was normal.

When they stepped out of the room, David and Killian were huddled in the corner with Robin. A man and woman, she thought were named Belle and Will who had been their back up the night they got Henry out of the house was sitting with her son, who was currently laughing loudly at something the man had said to them.

Neal’s picture was displayed on the wall at the back of the room, her own photo was below it, she cringed when she realized that it pointed toward Officer Perry. She made her way to the men in the corner, taking note of the way that Killian stared at her with concern in his eyes as she approached.

“So, what’s the plan?” She said shyly as she approached.

David turned around, “Ah you’re done, let me see Mary Margaret out, Killian and Robin can fill you in.”

“We’re gonna have you call Neal from a phone in the building, tell him that you got picked up while you were shopping. Just tell him that the officer told you they have Henry. It’s going to be really important for him to believe you are desperate to get him back.”

Emma nodded. “Ok, he’ll believe all that, he’s not exactly smart. But how is that going to get him to you?”

Robin pointed at the map on the wall. “We want you to tell him to pick you up on the docks, here.” He said as he pointed toward the map. “Will he come get you? Or will he expect you to come to him?”

“I’ll tell him I need him, that always gets him to do what I want.”

Killian’s jaw tensed beside her but he nodded his head. “Ok then we take you to the docks. He shows up, we take him down.”

David walked up behind them. “And she needs to wear a wire, we want to get him to talk about the bank job. Get him to say that he killed Officer Perry.”

“No way, too dangerous, he’s not an idiot. He’ll check her for a wire.” Killian argued.

“He’s right, Neal doesn’t trust anyone and if he knows I’ve been with the cops for a whole day without contacting him, he’ll suspect something.” She added.

“That’s the conditions. She wears a wire, or they want her back in lock up.”

“That’s a fucking death sentence.” Killian screamed and she jumped. “There is no way we do this. I’m not sending her out there so he can fucking kill her.”

“We’ll be safe, he won’t find the wire. I get that this is risky, so it’s Emma’s call.” David looked up at her apologetically.

She turned toward Killian, reaching out and taking his hand in hers. “If we don’t get Neal off the streets, he’s a danger to all of us. He won’t stop until he’s killed you, me, and Henry. I have to protect him.”

“Emma…” He choked out, his thumb caressing the top of her knuckles.

“I can do this, and I know you’ll be there to back me up.”

He ran his hand through his hair, an exasperated groan leaving his throat. “Fine, but if things go wrong, I’m putting a bullet in his head.”

“Don’t make me pull you off this, Jones. I need you thinking straight.” David warned.

“He’ll be fine.” Robin added, stepping up to tap him on the shoulder and sending him a warning glance.

“Ok let’s make the call.”

Emma felt her nerves rising as they dialed the phone, Killian listening on another line from his desk.

“Hello?”

“Neal, it’s Emma.”

“Where the fuck have you been, bitch?” He growled into the receiver.

“I got picked up from the grocery store, some dumb cop recognized my face from the robbery footage they’ve been blasting all over the tv.” Her heart was pounding in her chest. “Neal, they took Henry.”

“Who has Henry?”

“The cops, when they arrested me they told me they have him, how did that happen, you said he would be safe at the house.”

“Where is he?”

“They didn’t tell me, they just released me.”

“What do you mean they released you?”

“The video isn’t clear, they don’t have the gun, I told you I dumped it.”

“That’s my good girl.” He cooed and Emma wretched, closing her eyes. When she opened them, she recognized the look of anger shading Killian’s face from the desk on the other side of the room.

“I need you to come get me, I’m heading out of here right away, you told me to never stay near a station, so I’m going to the dock, Pier 50 where all that construction is going on.”

“Ok give me a couple hours. I want to make sure you weren’t followed. If you see any signs of trouble, you call me back ok? We’ll get Henry back. Everything will turn out exactly how it’s supposed to be, you’ll see sweetheart.”

“Ok I’ll see you then.”

“Emma…” She could hear the warning in the throaty growl, she tried to ignore it. “Baby I want to hear you say it.”

She looked up nervously, her face red with anger. Not here, not now. “I’ll say it when I see you.”

“Goddamn Emma, say it.”

She flinched as he raised his voice. “I love you.” She said in a hoarse whisper. Tears sliding down her cheek as the phone left her ear. She could barely hear his voice as she put the phone on the receiver, the words that made her feel dirty, worthless, and terrified.

“I love you too, baby.”

She dropped down into the chair behind her, tears falling slowly into her lap. “Mom, it’s gonna be ok.”

She reached out and pulled Henry into her lap, hugging him for dear life. She needed Neal to pay for everything he had done to them.

“You did good, Emma.” Killian’s voice was soft as he approached her. “Let’s get you ready.”

Henry looked up at her. “You can do this Mom. I believe in you.”

She stood and walked with the men toward the Captain’s office to set her up with a wire. Once the door closed David approached her, holding the wire in his hands.

“Cap, perhaps we should have Belle do this?” He glanced at Emma and then back at David who paused.

“Yeah good idea, I’ll go get her.”

Once they were alone, Killian turned toward her. “Are you alright, love?”

“I will be once this is all over. Thanks for, um…suggesting Belle.”

“Figured that might be a bit more comfortable for you.”

The door opened and Belle walked in, Killian nodded to her, passing the bundle of wires into her hand. “Make sure a pat down won’t find them.” He turned back to Emma, smiled, and left the room.

“So, tell me, this Neal, is he a nervous man, distrustful? Do you think he’ll try and search you?”

“He’ll definitely check my shirt. He’s not an idiot, but he’s not the most brilliant criminal either.”

“Ok so we’ll go with the legs.” Emma nodded and turned around, unbuckling her jeans, and pulling them down her legs. “Ok stand over here.” She pointed in front of her, and Emma closed her eyes, sighed, and then opened them with a new resolve.

“Those are much slimmer than I remember.” She remarked, the mic pack and wires that didn’t resemble the clunky ones they practiced with in the police academy.

“It’s been ten years dear; a lot has changed.” She said apologetically. “Ok, I’m gonna touch your leg. I’m going to try and run this up the inside of your thigh, I’m going to keep the mic pack low on your hip. That way if he searches you, he’s most likely to go for the small of your back.”

“Ok.”

“I met you once before, do you remember that?” Emma looked at the girl, trying to remember her. “It was really quick; you were graduating when I started the academy. You know people talked about you all the time. First female to have the highest score on the shooting range. You beat all the guys in your class.”

Emma laughed, it seemed so long ago that she earned her place among the men in her ranks. She knew she was a good shot, better than anyone else in her class, but proving it had meant more to her than she had realized.

“You were a hero to all us women that came after you. Only female in your class.” Belle continued.

“It wasn’t easy, but I’m sure you know that. Looks like you made your own way, Detective.”

“Damn straight.” She patted her leg. “All done.”

Emma looked down at the wire, traveling up her leg and onto her hip. “Thanks.”

“Just remember, you’re stronger than him.” She patted her on the shoulder and walked out the door, “I’ll get the Captain.”

The ride to the docks made her feel like she was stuck in a wind tunnel, everything was spinning by her at 60 mph, but she was frozen in place. The car stopped moving, and both Killian and Robin turned to face her.

“Ok Emma, you’re going to walk to the end of the pier, then wait. I’ll be stationed behind the row of shipping containers on the right, Robin will be on the left. Belle and Will are flanking the entrance. As soon as Neal is on the way, we’ll know it. Just get him to come in, get him to say whatever you can and then we’ll get you out of there.”

“Ok.”

They opened the door and Emma nervously stepped onto the pier. Killian leaned against the car, watching her. Emma nervously approached him, turning around to lean against the door. “Don’t get jumpy and shoot over my shoulder.” She teased.

“Hey that only happened once.”

“What if he doesn’t show up? What if he does show up but he finds the wire? What if…”

“Emma, nothing ever goes the way it’s planned. If something goes wrong, I’ll figure it out.”

Emma leaned against his shoulder, sliding her hand down, her fingers tentatively reaching out and slipping into his. “I know you will, you’ve got my back.”

#nowhere to run #stacy's fics #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan #captain swan fics #captain swan au #captain swan modern au #emma jones

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emospritelet · 3 years

Text

Twisted Fate - chapter 24

Last time, Gold went to Storybrooke, and Belle’s waters broke

[AO3]

“Mr Gold, thank you so much for dealing with this so quickly.”

Mary Margaret Blanchard both looked and sounded relieved, and Gold could understand why. The leak in her bathroom had been fixed, but not before water had soaked through the ceiling and fused the kitchen lights.

“I don’t even know how it happened,” she went on. “I could have sworn everything was turned off.”

“One of the pipes was damaged,” he said. “Took a knock somehow, cracked it in two places. I’ve had the plumber replace it. Good as new.”

He ran his eyes over the ceiling, where damp patches still showed, and made a note in the little book he kept for repairs and tenant complaints.

“Minimal damage, it seems,” he said. “I’ll have someone come out and repaint as soon as it’s dry. We may need to replace one of the panels, but I’m sure it won’t require any major works.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” She smoothed the skirt of her dress with her hands. “Uh - may I offer you some tea?”

Gold eyed her curiously before clicking the end of his pen and slipping it into the inside pocket of his coat with the notebook. Miss Blanchard was a good tenant, but even she had never offered him tea before.

“No, thank you,” he said. “I need to head back to Boston.”

“Oh yes, Mr Dove mentioned that you’d only be in Storybrooke today,” she said, and hesitated. “Um - I hope you don’t mind my asking, but Granny said that you and Belle are expecting a baby.”

Gold felt himself smile.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“I think pretty much everyone in town was in a state of shock,” she said, with a tiny laugh, pressing a hand to her heart. “We had no idea you were even seeing each other!”

“Well, that’s the unavoidable consequence of not telling anyone, I suspect,” he remarked.

“Moe didn’t say a word!”

“I think he preferred to pretend it wasn’t happening,” he said coolly.

“Right.” She looked as though she was about to burst from curiosity. “Could you give me Belle’s number? I’d love to catch up with her, give her my best wishes.”

Gold had a vision of every woman in Storybrooke suddenly clamouring to get in touch with Belle, and he gave Miss Blanchard a tiny smile.

“Why don’t I give her your number, and a message that you’d like to speak to her?” he suggested. “The baby is due next week, you see. She’s somewhat preoccupied with that at the moment.”

“Oh, of course!”

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fished it out, smiling slightly as he saw Belle’s name flashing on the screen.

“Excuse me,” he said, turning away from Miss Blanchard a little and swiping the screen to answer.

“Hey,” he said gently. “I’m just about ready to head back.”

“Yeah, you might want to step on it.” Emma’s voice floated out of the phone. “Belle’s waters broke.”

Gold felt as though a fist was closing around his heart, squeezing the life from him.

“What?” he whispered.

“Is that Belle?” asked Miss Blanchard. “Say hi from me.”

“She’s in labour,” said Emma patiently, as Gold reminded himself to breathe. “Probably got a while to wait before there’s any real action, but I’m gonna call the midwife after I get off the phone to you. If she tells us to go to hospital, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Tell him to get his arse back here right now!”

Gold could hear Belle in the background, her voice strained, and Emma chuckled a little.

“You heard her, big guy,” she said. “Drive safe, okay? We’ll take care of her.”

“Thank you,” he said numbly, and the call cut off.

Gold slipped the phone back into his pocket, his heart thumping hard. The baby. The baby is coming. I have to get there. I have to be with her.

“Is she okay?”

Miss Blanchard’s voice cut through his inner terror, and he started.

“Yes, thank you,” he managed. “I’ll - uh - I’ll get Mr Dove to arrange the painting. Please let him know if you have any other issues.”

“Thank you, Mr Gold. Are you sure you won’t have that tea?”

Gold was already on his way out, letting the door close behind him, and barely heard her. He walked as swiftly as his limp would allow, heading back to the shop to grab the few things he had boxed up to take with him, and locking the doors behind him. Within five minutes he was on the road, senses heightened by anxiety as he headed back down to Boston. The baby’s coming. I’m gonna be a father.

“Is he coming?” Belle could hear the low-level panic in her voice, and told herself to calm down. “What did he say?”

“He’s leaving now,” Emma assured her, looking through her phone contacts. “What’s your midwife’s name?”

“Oh - Dorothy. Dorothy Gale.”

“Okay.”

Emma put the phone to her ear again, and Belle began to pace back and forth. She was dimly aware of Emma talking, but paid little attention, rubbing at her aching back as she traversed the lounge.

“How long until the baby gets here?” asked Henry excitedly. “Does Belle have to go to hospital?”

“That’s what Mom’s asking about,” said Neal, ruffling his hair. “Why don’t you go sit down and read until we know what’s happening, okay?”

“Okay, thanks a lot.” Emma looked up, handing the phone to Belle. “She says come on in. You have everything you need?”

“In the hall,” said Belle anxiously. “But - Alex! Will he get here in time?”

“Of course he will,” said Emma soothingly. “He’s on his way right now. We’ll call him when you get to the hospital, let him know where you are, okay?”

“I should never have told him to go to Maine!” She was fretful, her pace quickening. “He wanted to stay with me and I told him to go! What was I thinking?”

“He’ll be back in plenty of time,” said Neal easily. “You’re gonna be yelling at him before you know it.”

Belle burst into a laugh that sounded a little hysterical, and Emma put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, get your coat,” she said. “Neal, can you pick up the bag in the hallway?”

“Got it.”

Neal headed for the hallway, and Belle slipped the phone into her pocket, glancing around worriedly. Have I forgotten anything? Oh God, it’s really coming! Where the hell is Alex?

“Will the baby come tonight?” asked Henry.

“Probably not,” said Emma. “Probably tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?”

“April thirtieth.”

“Oh,” said Henry. “Dad’s birthday is the day after.”

“Yeah, it sure is. Come on, get your coat.”

“Hey Dad!” called Henry. “If the baby doesn’t come for another day you could have the same birthday!”

“I don’t want to be in labour for two days, thanks Henry,” said Belle, in a dry tone.

“Okay, do we have everything?” Neal put his head around the door. “I’ve got your bag.”

“Thanks,” said Belle, wincing again. “Oh! The casserole!”

“I turned the oven off already,” said Neal. “Figured you’d be a little too busy to make dinner.”

“Right.” Belle chewed at her lip, suddenly frozen with indecision.

“Coat,” said Emma firmly, steering her towards the hallway.

“Right.”

Gold had never made the journey from Storybrooke to Boston as quickly in his life. There was a tailback on the way into the city which made him want to scream in frustration, but eventually he reached the hospital. Emma had called him when he was leaving Maine to say that Belle had been advised to go in, and that the midwife was attending her, and he had been running on anxiety and adrenaline ever since. He found himself brimming over with gratitude for Belle’s friends being with her when he couldn’t. Striding through the hospital, he cursed his limp, wishing he could run to Belle, praying she was alright, his inner voice calling out his inadequacies, his failures. He reached the maternity unit stressed, breathless and thirsty, and found Neal sitting in the waiting area cradling a cup of coffee.

“Hey,” said Neal, getting to his feet. “The midwife’s with her. You can probably go on through.”

“How is she?” asked Gold, and he grinned.

“Not long now, I guess,” he said. “Look, if you don’t mind I’ll leave you to it. Emma took Henry home, and I should really get back to them.”

“Yes, of course.” Gold hesitated, putting out a hand for Neal to shake. “Thank you. You’ve been good friends to Belle. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

“Well, she’s easy to be friends with,” he said, with a lopsided grin. “Tell her we’re looking forward to seeing the new addition to the family, okay? Let us know how things go.”

“I will.”

Neal shook Gold’s hand briefly, drained his coffee and tossed the empty cup into the trash before sauntering off, and Gold took a deep breath before heading to the desk to ask which room Belle was in before setting off as fast as he could. His leg was hurting, the pain enough to make his teeth ache, and he grimaced as he reached room 609, pushing open the door. Belle was in a hospital gown, an open bathrobe over the top, pacing back and forth with a hand pressed to her back and an agonised look on her face.

“Where the hell have you been!” she demanded.

“I’m sorry, I got here as fast as I could without being arrested,” he said, hurrying to her side. “How are you? How is she?”

This last was said to Dorothy Gale, who gave him a smile and a soothing pat on the arm as she passed.

“She’s doing fine,” she said. “Everything’s proceeding as we’d expected. I need to check her dilation again, but we’ve got a while to go before it’s time to start pushing, right Belle?”

Belle groaned, clutching at her midriff, and Gold rubbed her back soothingly.

“There, love, just hang on,” he said gently. “You’re gonna be okay. Keep breathing.”

“Oh, thank God you’re here, I would have forgotten!” she snapped.

“Right,” he said, sharing a glance with Dorothy, who looked amused. “Well, I remember the breathing exercises we did together. Shall we try those?”

“Oh, shut up, Gold!” She pushed him off, pacing faster. “This is all your fault!”

“Yes, it undoubtedly is,” he agreed. “Blame me all you like. Uh - is there anything I can do to help? A foot rub? Perhaps set myself on fire for your amusement?”

Belle burst out laughing at that, and shot him a fond look that became a twisted grimace of pain.

“I’m sorry,” she said, through her teeth. “This is - every bit as painful as they said it would be. And I was worried you wouldn’t get here on time so I kind of freaked out. I might yell some more.”

“Oh, you’ll definitely yell more,” said Dorothy cheerfully. “I’m sure he can stand it. How about we check your dilation now? Hop up on the bed.”

Belle took Gold’s hand, sending him a strained smile, and he helped her towards the bed, wishing he could bear the pain for her.

Their baby was born at six-fifteen on the morning of April thirtieth. By the time her labour was over, Belle was exhausted, drenched with sweat and almost hoarse. Gold didn’t leave her side, running through breathing exercises with her, speaking words of encouragement until his voice almost gave out, and feeling helpless as she suffered. On the final push, Belle squeezed his hand so hard he felt the bones grind together, a hoarse cry coming from her throat.

“There we are!” Dorothy cried. “Well done, Belle!”

Belle fell back against the pillows, gasping for breath, and Gold stroked damp strands of hair back from her forehead. A cry went up, a stuttering, fractious sound, and Gold felt his heart thump hard as Dorothy straightened up, grinning at him.

“It’s a baby boy!” she announced.

Gold glanced up, eyes wide. His son was being held up, red-faced and squalling, tiny arms flailing in outrage at being born into the world. He could see the cord leading from his belly, strands of dark hair covering his tiny head, and he felt tears well in his eyes as love burst through him.

“Oh God, he’s beautiful!” he wept. “Belle, he’s so beautiful! He’s perfect!”

He turned to her, bending to kiss her full on the mouth, not caring that tears were streaming down his cheeks. As he pulled back he could see that she was crying too, lower lip wobbling as she sent him a tired, but beautiful smile.

“Is he okay?” she asked tremulously.

“He looks absolutely fine,” said Dorothy. “Responding well, plenty of movement, good pulse… Here, why don’t you hold him?”

She placed the baby carefully on Belle’s chest, the tiny body streaked with blood and birthing fluids, and Belle burst into tears, bending to kiss the top of his head. The baby grizzled a little, tiny fists waving before he settled. Gold felt his heart swell with love for them, and reached out to stroke his son’s head with a gentle finger.

“He’s perfect,” he breathed. “Thank you! Thank you, my darling.”

Belle sniffed, lip still wobbling, and turned to kiss him. She was still trying to catch her breath, and Gold brushed damp strands of hair back from her face.

“You did so well,” he whispered. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Had to come out somehow,” she said wearily.

Gold smiled, and leaned in to press his brow to hers before turning back to gaze at the child they had made. He’s beautiful. As beautiful as his mother. He could hear Dorothy and the nurses clattering around as they cleared things away, but he couldn’t take his eyes off his family. I have a son. I have a beautiful son and a beautiful woman who loves me. I’m the luckiest bastard on this entire earth.

“Okay, looks like the cord’s ready to be cut.” Dorothy’s voice made him look around. “It may take a little while for the placenta to come out. Alex, you can go get yourself a coffee if you like. We’ve got some measurements to take and we need to get Belle and Baby all cleaned up.”

“Oh.” Belle smiled at her, letting her head fall back against the pillows. “Yes please, that sounds great.”

“You sure you want me to go?” Gold asked, and Belle smiled, squeezing his arm.

“Go get a coffee,” she said. “You look as exhausted as I feel, and I’m sure you don’t want to see me getting stitches. Would you call Emma, let her know?”

“Of course.” He hesitated. “What about your father?”

Belle pulled a face.

“I’ll call him later,” she said. “He won’t be awake yet, anyway. Maybe when the baby’s had his first feed. Maybe when we’ve decided on a name.”

She was looking a little hesitant, and Gold smiled.

“Does that mean you’ve thought of one?” he asked, and she inclined her head.

“What do you think of Gideon?” she asked. “I thought - I thought maybe Gideon Alexander Gold. How - how would you feel about that?”

Gold mouthed the name, then whispered it as he stroked his son’s head. The baby snuffled, his tiny fist shifting against Belle’s skin, and Gold nodded. It sounds good. It sounds right.

“Gideon Alexander Gold,” he said aloud. “It’s perfect, sweetheart.”

She beamed at him, her eyes shining, and he bent to kiss her gently before kissing the top of his son’s head.

“I’ll be back soon,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to hold him.”

When he left the room he slumped against the wall for a moment, feeling drained. His jacket and tie had been discarded some hours ago, his shirtsleeves rolled up, and he headed for the bathroom to freshen up. Stubble scraped his palms as splashed water on his face, his eyes stinging with tears and weariness. A son. I have a son. I’m going to give him the best life I can.

After he had washed up as best he could, he headed for the cafeteria. It was quiet in the early morning; the only people in there apart from the serving staff were a man doing a crossword at the corner table, and an orderly mopping the floor. Gold watched the mop move in circles, leaving gleaming wet streaks like petals. The lights seemed too bright for his tired eyes, but he bought himself a large coffee and a toasted bagel and sat at one of the tables, staring into space and thinking about the future he wanted to build with Belle and Gideon. Belle had mentioned the possibility of raising him in Storybrooke when she had finished her studies, and the thought was a pleasant one. If she could get a librarian position, even better. He sipped his coffee, cogs turning in his head as he thought it through. Perhaps there was a way to make it work. He had favours to call in.

He called Emma at seven-thirty, letting her know the news and agreeing to pass on her best wishes and a promise to visit later. After that he called his lawyer and left a message on her voicemail. The formal agreement with Belle might have been torn up, but there were still things to sort out in order to ensure she and his son were provided for.

By the time he returned to Belle’s room, she was dressed in clean nightwear and tucked up in clean sheets, with Gideon swaddled and feeding at her breast. There was a plastic bracelet on Gideon’s wrist, and another around Belle’s. She was smiling down at the baby as he fed, tiny head pushed into her breast and a clenched fist jerking against it. Gold took a moment in the doorway to savour the scene, smiling as he watched mother and son. My family. My perfect family. God, I love them so much!

“You know, you could always take a picture.”

Belle’s voice made his smile widen, and he went to sit by her side, reaching out to gently stroke Gideon’s head.

“Have you seen the doctor yet?” he asked.

“Dorothy says Jekyll will be around in half an hour or so,” she said. “She says everything’s fine, though. Gideon’s responding well to all the tests, he’s feeding well. He peed on her when she weighed him.”

Gold chuckled.

“How much does he weigh?”

“Six pounds two ounces,” she said. “I can’t remember if that was before or after the pee.”

Gideon coughed, a dribble of milk coming from his mouth, and Belle wiped it away with a cloth. He grumbled a little, and she smiled, lifting him up and kissing his cheek.

“Here, why don’t you hold him?”

Gold took the tiny bundle from her, feeling love surge within him as he held his son in his arms. Gideon opened his eyes, and Gold smiled broadly.

“Hey there,” he said gently. “I’m your Papa. It’s wonderful to meet you, Gideon.”

He stroked a fist with his finger, his smile widening as Gideon grabbed it.

“Well, that’s quite a grip you’ve got,” he said.

“He’s a strong little thing,” said Belle. “I think he’s gonna be a handful when he gets mobile.”

“Hazel eyes,” said Gold. “Although they change colour, don’t they?”

“Yeah, apparently they don’t settle on the final colour for a while,” she said, yawning. “I think they’ll be brown, like yours.”

“As long as he doesn’t get my nose.”

Belle giggled.

“There’s nothing wrong with your nose.”

Gideon wriggled, beginning to grizzle, and Belle held out her arms.

“Here. Let me see if he’s still hungry.”

Gold handed him back, watching avidly as he latched onto a breast again.

“I could watch him all day,” he said, and Belle shot him a fond look.

“I know. I keep thinking I’ve dreamed it and I’ll wake up. But he’s really here. A whole little person that we made.”

He leaned in to kiss her forehead tenderly.

“I think you did almost all the building,” he said. “I provided the equivalent of a shovel full of rubble in the foundations of a skyscraper.”

“Hey, don’t underestimate the importance of good rubble.”

She was smiling, her eyes gleaming, and he kissed her again.

“You look tired,” he said, and she groaned, letting her head fall back against the pillows.

“God, I’m exhausted!”

“In that case, you should sleep,” he said. “I’m going to go home and get showered and changed. I feel as though I’ve been hit by a truck, so I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.”

“Tired, happy and bloody sore,” she said, with a smile. “You should get some sleep too.”

“Emma said she’d visit later,” he said. “She sends her love.”

“Well, if I’m going to have visitors, I definitely need sleep,” she said, and kissed him. “Go on, get home and have a nap, at least.”

“Okay.” He kissed her again, and kissed Gideon. “I’ll be back later.”

By the time he got home, Ella had called him twice, so he called her back, received effusive congratulations and gave her some instructions on making provision for Gideon’s future. He wasn’t expecting to sleep, but after showering and shaving he lay down on the bed anyway, and woke up as it was approaching five in the evening. He dressed quickly, cramming a sandwich into his mouth and downing some coffee before hurrying out of the door.

The hospital was far busier than it had been when he left, and he moved as quickly as he could past parents and children and rushing nurses. He reached Belle’s room just as Dr Jekyll was closing the door quietly, and the doctor gave one of his nervous smiles, snatching his glasses off his face and cleaning them.

“Ah, Mr Gold.” Jekyll put a hand on his arm, steering him away from the door. “Perhaps you could give her half an hour? They’re both sleeping. The poor thing hasn’t had a chance to get much rest today what with all the comings and goings.”

“Of course.” Gold hesitated. “How are they?”

“Oh, doing very well. I imagine you can take them both home tomorrow.” Jekyll smiled again. “I expect you’ll all be relieved to hear that. You’ll have a busy house from now on.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Jekyll walked off, and Gold headed to the cafeteria again. He was surprised to see Neal sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of coffee and flicking through a magazine. Gold got his own coffee, carrying it over, and Neal looked up with a grin.

“Hey, congratulations,” he said. “How’s it feel to be a dad?”

“Pretty amazing, actually,” said Gold, and gestured at the chair across from him. “Do you mind?”

“Take a seat. I told Emma I’d meet her here. She was taking Henry to get some new sneakers but she shouldn’t be too much longer.”

Gold sat down, pushing the coffee cup towards the centre of the table. His leg was hurting, and he cursed himself for forgetting his painkillers.

“Belle’s still asleep, I take it,” added Neal, and he nodded.

“The doctor said to give her half an hour.”

“Yeah, you never get much rest in hospitals,” said Neal. “Emma said when she had Henry she couldn’t wait to get home.”

“The doctor says I can take them home tomorrow,” he said. “She should be able to get some proper rest then.”

“Which I guess means you getting up with the baby, huh?” Neal grinned at him, and Gold smiled.

“I don’t mind. I’m looking forward to spending some quality time looking after both of them.”

There was silence. Gold sipped at his coffee, wincing as it burned his lips, and looked across at Neal. He was turning the cup between his fingers, just as Gold himself did when he was thinking. Gold cleared his throat, making Neal glance up.

“Thank you for being here for Belle,” he said. “Especially for all those months I wasn’t.”

Guilt stabbed at him, a painful reminder of his self-destructive decisions, his terrible behaviour towards the woman he loved.

“You’re here now, right?” said Neal.

“Doesn’t make up for it,” said Gold quietly.

“Maybe not, but it means something.” Neal leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the table. “You didn’t know she was pregnant, and as soon as you did, you tried to make it right.”

Gold let out a hollow laugh.

“Believe me, the way I’ve acted in this past year should in no way be praised,” he said dryly. “I behaved appallingly, and I wish I could take it back.”

“Hindsight’s a great thing,” said Neal. “Doesn’t stop you making dumbass decisions in the here and now, though.”

“That’s certainly true.”

“I never knew my dad,” he added. “Told myself that I’d always be there for my kids, and then because of my own stupidity, I missed eighteen months of my son’s life. Time we won’t get back, you know?”

“I don’t suppose Henry remembers much about it, if it’s any consolation,” said Gold.

“True,” agreed Neal. “But I remember. And so does Emma. If I had my time over, I’d make different choices. I guess that’s all you can do. Decide you won’t screw up that way again.”

Gold nodded slowly. He was right. There was no getting that time back, he just had to concentrate on being a good partner and father in the future.

“Belle said that you and Emma were in the system together,” he said, and Neal pulled a face.

“Not exactly,” he said. “We met on the streets. We were both in kids’ homes when we were younger, but we didn’t meet until we were teens. That was after we’d both run away.”

“That must have been dangerous for you both.”

“I don’t think either of us realised how dangerous until we found our way off the streets,” agreed Neal. “There again, there were reasons we ran away in the first place. Excellent reasons, you know?”

“I’m fairly sure I don’t want to imagine,” said Gold, and Neal nodded.

“I guess there are good and bad people involved in Social Services,” he said. “Can’t say I ever met any of the good ones, though.”

“I’m sorry you both had to go through that,” said Gold sincerely, and he shrugged.

“It was a long time ago.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with,” said Gold dryly. “As my therapist helpfully informs me.”

Neal chuckled.

“How’s the therapy going?”

“Slow,” he admitted. “But I’m told any progress is good. I’m also told there may be times when it feels as though I’m going backwards.”

Neal wrinkled his nose and hunched his shoulders a little. The gesture reminded Gold of how he himself reacted to his therapy sessions at times.

“Yeah, I hear you,” said Neal. “Emma and I went to therapy after I got out of jail. Thought it would be good for us. Fresh start, all of that.”

“Did it help?”

“Absolutely,” he said sincerely. “Sometimes you don’t realise how much you’re bottling up, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” said Gold quietly.

“Emma was abandoned when she was just a baby,” Neal went on. “Never knew her parents. Sometimes I think it’s harder on her because of that. She’s spent a lot of time thinking about who they might have been, why they had to give her up.”

“And you?” asked Gold, and Neal grimaced.

“Well, I never knew my dad, but I remember my mom,” he said. “I especially remember the day she dropped me off with Social Services and never came back.”

“Really?” Gold shook his head. “I can’t imagine ever wanting to abandon my child. Not ever.”

“Yeah…” Neal hunched his shoulders a little more, shuffling his feet. “Guess not everyone’s meant to be a parent.”

“Have you seen your mother since?” asked Gold, and he shook his head.

“Nah. She never left a forwarding address, and I decided a long time ago that I never wanted to look for her.”

“What about your father?”

“Don’t even know his name,” said Neal. “I know he was boring and didn’t like to have fun. That’s according to my flighty, absentee mother, of course.”

He shared a smile with Gold.

“Families, huh?” he said.

“Indeed.”

They fell into silence again. Gold sipped his coffee. It was cool enough to drink, and he took a gulp. Neal drank the last of his own, setting down his cup.

“Belle said that you had a kid,” he said. “I mean other than Gideon.”

“Oh.” Gold felt his jaw tighten. “Yes. I did. I do.”

“Yeah, she didn’t really go into what happened.” added Neal hastily. “She said you probably wouldn’t want her to talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay.” Gold scratched the back of his neck. “I’m told I need to learn to open up more.”

“Yeah, well.” Neal sent him a slanted grin. “Easier said than done, right?”

“Speaking as someone who’s had a lifetime of keeping things to myself, I concur.”

“Gets easier,” said Neal. “Emma was like that when we met. Hell, so was I. Hard to trust people when all you know is being let down by those who are supposed to care for you.”

“Yes,” said Gold quietly. “Well. I promised myself I’d give Gideon everything he needs. Everything I didn’t have.”

“Like me with Henry,” said Neal. “See? Like I said, all you can do is learn from your shitty past and decide you’re not gonna pass the crap down to the next generation.”

“True enough.” Gold glanced up as two familiar faces appeared in the corridor leading to the cafeteria. “Here’s Emma and Henry now.”

“Hey,” said Emma, tossing blonde curls back off her shoulders as Neal turned around. “How are the new parents?”

“Excellent,” said Gold, with a grin. “Belle was sleeping, so we were just having a coffee while we waited.”

“What’s the baby like?” asked Henry excitedly. “Is he big?”

“You can see him yourself very soon,” said Gold, and pushed to his feet. “I should go and see if they’re ready for visitors.”

“What colour’s his hair?” asked Henry. “Does he cry a lot?”

“Just hang on for like forty seconds and you can see him for yourself,” said Neal, looking amused. “But keep it calm, okay? Belle doesn’t want you climbing all over the bed when she’s just given birth.”

“Okay. Is there gonna be a party?”

“A party?” said Emma, confused.

“It’s Dad’s birthday tomorrow,” said Henry, and she ruffled his hair.

“Yeah, I hadn’t forgotten.”

“Maybe he and Gideon can have a party together.”

“I think Gideon has some growing to do before he can enjoy a birthday party, kiddo.”

Something in what Henry had said tickled at the back of Gold’s mind, and he frowned.

“Your birthday is the first of May?” he asked, and Neal nodded.

“Yep.”

“Right.” He drummed his fingers on the handle of his cane, skin prickling with what felt like anxiety. “Uh - let me just go and see if Belle’s awake.”

He took a step away, then hesitated, swivelling on the toes of his shoes as he turned back.

“Do you mind if I ask how old you are?” he asked, and Neal pulled a face.

“Twenty-nine tomorrow,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Oh nothing,” he said quickly. “Nothing. Excuse me.”

He bowed his head, turning away and heading for Belle’s room at a fast pace. Coincidence. It has to be.

#fic: twisted fate #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #my fic

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