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truthofherdreams · 7 years

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Long and Lost (chapter 12)

Identities are revealed and lost friends are reunited once more... (ao3)

Emma decides to bury the hatchet at breakfast the following morning. Getting out of bed was a miracle in itself, too exhausted to move for long hours. Oliver, the guy on call at the station during the evenings and the weekends, had texted her at eight to tell her everything was fine and she didn’t have to worry until Monday morning. Which, it’s nice, she guesses. He’s nice, all man-bun and freckles, despite the fact that he also happens to be the Mayor’s adoptive son. At least she doesn’t have to force herself to do a few extra hours out of guilt for what happened to Graham.

She goes downstairs for food after ten, something that happens, well, never. Henry is watching cartoons on the couch, Mary Margaret reading peacefully in the chair by the window. Both are still in their pajamas, because it’s apparently that kind of day for everyone. Leo is in the kitchen when Emma enters it, vaguely offering her a wave of his hand. A bowl of cereals and a mug of tea are in front of him, and he looks like he fell out of bed about two minutes ago. Emma knows the feeling.

She turns on the coffee machine, because she definitely needs more than hot cocoa to keep her going today, and slides two Pop-Tarts in the toaster, before she turns to her brother again. Stretching out her arm, she watches as he blinks at the folded bank note between her fingers. She has to shake her hand a little for him to grab it, and he does it with a suspicious glance her way.

“It’s not a movie date without popcorn,” she gives as a matter of explanation.

Leo’s lips twitch, just a little. “It’s not a date at all, apparently.”

“Just buy some popcorn for your boyfriend and shut up.”

Her brother is grinning now, putting the bill in his pocket. He’s the only one of them who bothered with a shower and proper clothes, apparently. “Thanks.”

“No bringing boys home until you’re eighteen, though.”

“And you ruined it.”

But he’s still grinning, and Emma smiles too. If those stories of him are true, her only goal in life is to give everyone their happy endings. Maybe it doesn’t have to be big; maybe it can start with making sure her brother is happy and in love, with a boyfriend worthy of him. And who is she to deny him happiness, after all?

They discuss which movie would be the best one for a first date-except-it’s-not-a-date around breakfast, before agreeing that Gideon/Not-Gideon is enough of a nerd that he very much would like something artsy instead of the latest blockbuster, and so Leo picks some old movie in black and white Storybrooke’s little theatre is showing today, instead of whatever superhero movie is on at the moment.

He’s smiling all through their conversation, looking more like the teenager he’s supposed to be and less like the hero’s sidekick he’s been since they met, and it makes Emma’s heart a little lighter. His happiness is contagious and, by the time she decides she needs a shower, and to check on Graham, she’s smiling too and forgetting all about yesterday’s mess.

She makes her way to Granny’s first, to buy her boss the disgusting tea he loves so much and a bunch of pastries, because she’s fucking nice and she deserves a raise, probably. Ruby is behind the counter as always, black-and-red hair pulled into a ponytail, long legs clad in matching leather pants. Emma pretends not to stare, not that Ruby notices much when she’s busy bickering with the Latina woman from David’s party.

“Emma!” she exclaims when Emma makes her way to the counter. “Tell California here that she’s wrong.”

The other woman lets out an exasperate sound, throwing her arms in the air. “How many times will I have to tell you my name is Arizona, jesus. And I’m right, and you know it.”

“You’re wrong,” Ruby sighs. “I know my shit about wolves, okay?”

“What’s the problem?” Emma asks, even if she’s not sure she wants to know. It seems to be about more than just zoology trivia, and she wants none of it. But too late, she’s part of it now, for better or for worse.

“Alabama here,” (Arizona rolls her eyes and turns in her seat, muttering something rude) “is saying that wolf packs are led by an alpha male…”

“Which is true!”

“Which is wrong! They’re led by an alpha couple. Jesus, what do they teach you in school?”

Emma’s mouth opens a little as she blinks at one woman, then the other. They’re throwing daggers at each other, obviously fuming and, yes, she definitely doesn’t want any part of this weird mating ritual they seem to have going on. Not on top of all the drama with Leo’s love life, and all the drama Mary Margaret is hiding from them, thank you very much.

“Can I have a chamomile tea and two bear claws, please?” she says instead, changing the subject with very little finesse.

Ruby huffs, points a perfectly manicured finger at Arizona’s face and mouths ‘I’m right and you know it’, before she moves down the counter to prepare Emma’s order. Emma heaves a breath now that the tension created by the two women no longer surrounds her, and she taps her nails against the steel counter in rhythm with the song playing over the speakers, to pass the time. She’s muttering the lyrics too, when Arizona coughs to get her attention.

“Hottie has been staring at you for a while.”

Emma groans as she turns around, expecting blue eyes and an exasperatingly handsome face. Except, no. The face is definitely handsome, but the skin is black instead of white, the eyes a warm shade of brown, the smile more gentle than sarcastic. Mystery man from last evening definitely spent the night in town, and definitely wasn’t on his merry way this morning like she had hoped. Go figure.

With a sigh that hides a muttered curse, Emma turns around in her seat and makes her way toward the booth where he’s sitting. He doesn’t even pretend like he was not blatantly staring at her, the creep, and keeps smiling his kind smile when she stops in front of him. From up close and even despite the unflattering neon lights, he’s definitely more handsome than in the dark of the night. Not that it matters much, all things considered.

“You’re still here,” she comments in a tone she hopes is accusatory.

He simply grins back. “I’m still here,” he echoes.

Emma’s eyebrows rise of their own accord, her lips pressed into a tight line. She doesn’t have time for those games, or for entertaining a stranger who, according to Leo, shouldn’t even be here in the first place. All she wants is to know how he knows her name, because she’s damn certain she has never met him before, and the last thing she wants is a stalker following her all the way from Boston to Middle of Nowhere, Maine.

“Not exactly big fans of visitors here, are you?” he comments then, still smiling. Does he ever stop smiling?

“Not really used to people passing through,” she admits in a half-truth.

A little snort escapes his nose. Cute. “I figured. The Mayor didn’t seem too happy to see me. Guess tourism isn’t her priority.”

Emma forces herself not to groan and roll her eyes. Of course Madam fucking Mayor would see him, and make a show of being her usual delightful self. What else is expected of the human equivalent of stepping on a Lego?

“Yeah, well…” is all she finds to answer. Well done, Emma. Spectacular. “What led you to us anyway?”

He takes a sip of his drink – some weird tea, nice, he and Graham can be best buddies – and for a moment Emma thinks he’s going to avoid her question altogether. But then he puts his mug back on the table, and the annoying smile is back on his lips. “Just passing by, really. I love little towns like this one. I’ve always been fond of all the stories they contain.”

She squints at him, wondering for a moment if he’s openly mocking her or adding underlying meanings to his words. He can’t know. Surely he can’t know. And yet, she’s still squinting, and he’s still smiling, and she didn’t have enough hours of sleep to deal with whatever is happening right now.

“Sure,” she replies, even if she’s anything but. “How do you know my name anyway?”

“You don’t remember?” he asks. “I’m hurt.”

She wants to tell him she definitely would remember that kind of face, but it would just sound shallow. She wants to tell him she doesn’t remember anything, but it sounds too personal. She wants to tell him, should I remember you from this life or the one where I’m a princess prophesized to save the world, but it sounds too ridiculous, thank you very much.

So she doesn’t say anything at all. Which is probably better that way, truth be told. Not that she has time to reply anything, because then Ruby is calling her name and the little bell chimes by the front door, and she locks eyes with James when she turns around. He stops in his tracks, his eyes traveling between her and the stranger, once, twice, before a muscle spasms in his cheek and his eyes harden.

She wants to tell him that, whatever he believes is happening, it’s not it, but. Why would she say that? It’s not like she owes him anything. It’s not like she can still feel his breath on her mouth and smell his cologne, it’s not like her brain had replayed the scene from the bathroom a hundred times before she finally managed to fall asleep. Because that would be ridiculous.

“Interesting,” the stranger comments.

Emma wonders who would arrest her, if she were to sock him in the jaw.

Not that she will find out, for she makes a point of walking toward the counter and taking cup of tea and pastries from Ruby. The waitress knows better to ask her to pay, simply adds it to her note and sends her on her merry way with kind words for Graham. Emma offers her a tight-lipped smile in reply.

James is still standing by the door when she makes her exit, and she stops by his side for a moment. “Green doesn’t suit you,” she whispers before she opens the door.

She can feel his eyes on her as she makes her way to the car.

…

She isn’t lost.

She definitely isn’t lost, even if her pony has been trotting in circles for twenty minutes now and every tree looks the same. She is used to making her way through the forest to the Merry Men’s camp, has done it since she was old enough to ride her own pony alone. Roland was by her side, of course, because nobody would leave the crown princess wander the forest alone at the tender age of eight, but they decided to race down the path and now she can’t find him anymore. Or the camp. Or the way back to the castle.

But Emma isn’t lost, she’s just – not exactly where she is supposed to be.

It is more than fine, though. Brigands never come here, since it is well-known Merry Men territory, and Marian has been loyal to the crown for years now. If anyone finds her, they will be friends, not foes, and they will help her out. Not that she needs help, since she has established the fact that she isn’t lost. Just, somewhat, misplaced.

It’s too early in the afternoon to use the stars to guide her, and she didn’t think to take a compass with her. Mama once told her how to make one with a needle, a cork and a cup of water, but she has neither of those things in her bag.

It is another ten minutes of wandering around before Emma starts to feel restless. She throws one leg over her pony’s croup to jump down, before she grabs the reins and pulls the pony along. The little mare follows her without a moment of hesitation, trusting Emma’s choice more than Emma trusts her own instincts. Every tree looks the same, every path similar to the one before, and not a single wooden sign helps her find her way.

Maybe she could admit to being lost, but it would be admitting defeat.

She wonders if calling after Roland would be of any help at all, but the entire forest is silent around her. If Roland was looking for her, surely he would be the one to call her name. Emma wonders if he still hasn’t realised she is missing, or if he believes she will find her way by herself and doesn’t need his help (she doesn’t) or if he did it on purpose. Maybe he was a villain all along and his goal was to lose the little princess in the woods and let her die here. Maybe it is working. Maybe she should stop thinking about so many macabre theories.

“Well, hello there.”

A little scream escapes Emma’s mouth as she startles, turning around to face the newcomer. She didn’t hear his steps, didn’t hear anything at all. Like he wasn’t here, and then he was.

He’s smiling kindly at her, the kind of gentle smile she always sees on her papa’s lips. His skin is black – not as dark as Sir Lancelot’s but still darker than most people in her queendom – and he wears such a long robe that it brushes against the ground. He definitely wasn’t there, and then he was, because he definitely must be a wizard. He looks the part alright, if you ask Emma.

“Who are you?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.

The smile turns into a grin as the stranger answers with a question of his own, “Haven’t your parents taught you to say hello back?”

“My parents told me not to talk to strangers in the woods. Or any place.” She puts her chin up, just a little, in the way Leo says makes her look like a prissy little girl. Leo doesn’t know anything about anything beside his wooden sword too big for him.

“Can you keep a secret?” the stranger asks her as he kneels to look her in the eyes.

Emma knows mama wouldn’t like her to keep talking to someone she doesn’t know, but her curiosity takes over anyway. Emma loves secrets, and she’s very good at keeping them. After all, she is keeping the biggest secrets of all about herself, one she hasn’t even told Roland, or Gideon, or anyone. Only mama, and papa, and Leo know. She’s that good of a secret-keeper!

So she hesitates only for a second before she nods her head and takes a step closer to the stranger. He looks so kind, with the laughing wrinkles around his eyes and the grin; he won’t hurt her.

“Everyone's a stranger until they’re not.”

Emma frowns, until a giggle escapes her. It makes the man laugh too, with big dimples in his cheeks and stars in his brown eyes. When she was younger, papa used to tell her the stories about Sir Galavant and his beautiful Isabella every night, before going to bed. She loved the stories and often dreamed of adventures of her own, with mysteries and pirates and songs. Emma wonders if Galavant looked like this, pretty and kind and always smiling.

“One day, Emma,” he tells her. “One day we no longer will be strangers.”

“We’ll be friends?”

“Indeed. Once you’re older and ready to save the world, we’ll be friends.”

Emma frowns once more, wondering how the stranger knows her name as well as her destiny. She is about to ask him, when he stands up once more, brushing away the wrinkles in his robe. He points to the path leading west before she can say anything at all.

“If you go this way, you will find the Merry Men’s camp in less than ten minutes.”

Emma looks at the path above her shoulder.

When she turns her head again, the stranger is gone.

…

Graham looks way better already when she visits him, accepting the tea and forcing her to eat one of the bear claws. He promises he will be back to the station on Monday, but there is a shadow behind his eyes. Like he is still hiding something from her, not entirely saying the truth about what happened to him that day. Emma gives him time – if he ever wants to confide in her, he knows where to find her.

Instead, she gossips about Leo with him, and about their strange visitor. Graham asks a few questions, but it’s more to entertain her than out of sheer interest, and Emma decides to leave him alone. He needs his rest, after all, and she needs her weekend. It feels like forever since she last managed to have more than one hour with Henry on her own.

They buy greasy burgers at the White Rabbit and go to the park, before Henry decides that he wants to go to the beach. It’s starting to get cold outside, but her son wants to walk in the water one last time before winter, and Emma doesn’t have the heart to say no. So she sits on the sand and laughs at Henry’s little shrieks every time a wave comes to lap at his feet.

He jumps and runs and laughs, his cheeks red with excitement. And then he’s running toward her, sand in his hair and between his fingers, all laughter and smiles and happiness. Emma opens her arms to him, laughs too when he throws himself at her. For a moment, she forgets about everything else, everything that isn’t her son’s cheers and smiles. She kisses his cheek and he giggles, drops a sloppy kiss on her cheek too.

“Mom, can I ask you something?” he asks once his breathing is back to normal.

Emma frowns a little -- this can go a lot of different ways, knowing Henry, and she doesn’t know what to expect. “Sure, kiddo. What’s up?”

“Remember that Christmas when you got me the big fire truck?”

She does, indeed. She also remembers what Henry wanted, instead of the truck. From there, it’s not too hard to guess where this conversation is heading. Come to think about it, it’s almost surprising that it took him so long to ask at all. He was pretty set on the idea, three years ago.

“I remember,” she answers, waiting.

“You said… You said an apartment was too small and he would be too miserable, and we needed a house. But we have a house now, and I asked Mary Margaret this morning and she isn’t allergic and Leo isn’t allergic and she said yes and…”

“Okay, kiddo. Breathe.”

Henry takes a large gulp of air, before he offers her his most beautiful smile. “Can we get a dog?”

Emma knows, in her heart of hearts, that a million reasons to refuse exist. A dog is expensive. Henry might not know how to properly take care of it. He might get bored. They will go back to Boston eventually. And what then?

But Henry is looking at her in that way, the one where Emma doesn’t entirely feel like a failure of a mother, like she might actually do a decent job at this parenting shit and… Henry deserves to be happy. He hasn’t made proper friends quite yet, and she’s afraid he’s a bit lonely at times. Maybe he needs a furry companion, loyal and adorable.

“You know what,” she starts, and Henry gasps, happy and loud, “Let’s check with Mary Margaret first.”

Mary Margaret replies to her text with ‘as long as you don’t force me to take care of it’, and Emma guesses that it’s doable, between Henry, Leo and her. So she leads an overexcited child toward their car and ignores his never-ending babbling as they drive back to the Main Street.

She’s smiling by the time she parks in front of Granny’s, even more so when Henry runs toward Ruby. The waitress stops cleaning the outside tables long enough to blink confusingly at the small human yelling at her. “We gettin’ a doggie! We gettin’ a doggie!”

Ruby barks a laugh, and grins at Emma. “Good luck.”

Which, as it turns out, Emma needs. David is the one to welcome them when they enter the animal shelter, all too eager to show them the puppies they have in the back room. The smell is a tad too overwhelming, which makes Emma reconsider her choice for a second. That is, before Henry runs for one of the cages and presses his nose to the bars, laughing when the puppy licks him. She hasn’t heard him laugh like this in ages, and it makes guilt crawl up her throat in return.

She pictures the next hour to be full of puppy cuddles – or, worse, for Henry to find some Stitch-like creature or something. Instead, one dog throws himself at his cage repeatedly, getting louder by the second with his yapping and whines, until they have no other choice but to focus their attention on him.

He’s the kind of dog Emma has always found pretty – those Australian shepherds with the soft fur and mismatched eyes and pink nose. And, when David opens his cage, he throws himself at Emma like his life depends on it, jumping on her until she kneels down and scratches his ears and his belly. The dog is so excited Emma is afraid he’s going to pee on her at some point, but instead he just licks her hands and headbutts her stomach and is otherwise so adorable her heart melts on the spot.

“Mom! He likes you!” It’s a bit of an understatement here. Thankfully, Henry seems to be on board, and the dog is quick to focus his affections on the smallest human in the room. Which. Fucking adorable.

“Guess we have a winner,” David says with a smile.

Emma stands up and brushes the invisible dust on her pants, along with some white hair. Oh, Mary Margaret is going to hate her for this. “Guess we do,” she grins, upset flatmate-slash-landlady be damned.

David gives Henry a collar and leash, and boy and dog run around the shelter while Emma fills in the necessary paperwork. She pays for the shots and the other stuff the vet did to the dog, and buys some bowls, toys, and a nice cushion while she’s at it. She might be more into the idea of owning a dog than she thought at first.

David tells her some story about how sad the dog was and how he didn’t let anyone pet him, until David came back from the hospital. But Kathryn doesn’t like animals and David spends enough time around them as it is, and the dog is going to a good family anyway. All is well in the world.

Thankfully, the dog doesn’t throw up in her car, and Henry is still in the process of listing potential names by the time they come back home. He’s hesitating between Mister Scruffy and Pluto, because he still very much is a seven-year-old, and tells Mary Margaret so. The poor woman looks in horror as the dog runs around her kitchen, sniffing ever new smell and piece of furniture. He also seems to be happy to meet her, his pink tongue hanging low when she pats his head.

It has nothing on the way his head jerks up at the sound of the front door opening, though.

“Hey, we’re back! The movie was aweso--oh fuck. Wilby!”

Leo stops in his tracks and Gideon/Not Gideon, who was close behind, just bumps into his back. Not that the boy notices all that much, his eyes glued to the dog. The dog’s ears perk up, before he lets out a loud bark and throws himself at Leo. He jumps on the boy with all his strength, until the both of them are on the floor. Henry is quick to follow them in a tangle of limbs and fur and laughter.

It’s five long minutes of flailing around before Leo sits on the floor with the dog between his legs, arms wrapped around the animal’s neck and nose pressed to his head. His eyes are misty from unshed tears as he sends Emma the most grateful look she has ever seen in her life. She isn’t sure what she did, exactly, but whatever it is, she did it right.

“How about everyone goes to play in the garden while we get some hot chocolate ready for everyone?” Mary Margaret announces, ever the one to find the perfect solution to any tricky situation.

An old tennis ball is found in the cupboard under the stairs, along with a bright yellow frisbee, and everyone is sent on their merry way to play with the dog. The living room grows quiet suddenly, leaving Emma dizzy and confused. Yes, hot cocoa might be a good idea after all, she thinks as she makes her way to the kitchen.

Mary Margaret, bless her heart, is already taking the milk out of the fridge and pouring it in a pan, so Emma grabs a bunch of cups from the cupboard. She’s pouring two spoonful of cocoa powder into each mug when her flatmate speaks once more.

“Shall we talk about it?” she asks, with no need for further explanations.

Emma knows perfectly what she means, yet has no idea how to discuss it. Did she just give Leo his dog back? Is the dog cursed too? No, the dog seems to remember them all quite well, if his reactions to everything and everyone is anything to go by. But so… What even is going on? She has never been more confused in her life.

“I have no idea,” is all she finds to answer.

Mary Margaret is tactful enough to leave it there. Not tactful enough to keep her next thought to herself, though. “Shall we talk about the hickey on Fabian’s neck then?”

The groan out of Emma’s throat is loud and ugly. As eventful as Leo’s entrance had been, she hadn’t missed the purple bruise on the other boy’s neck, no matter how high his collar was. And, okay, Emma isn’t stupid -- she doesn’t remember being a teenager, but she can only guess what they are up to at that age. She just… didn’t expect Leo to get so obviously, well, obvious with his not-boyfriend? Especially not after his tearful moment yesterday.

Whatever happened with Fabian (Fabian! That’s his name!) today, it definitely worked. Emma doesn’t know if she wants to be impressed or terrified, to know her teenage brother has more game than she does.

(But then again…)

“Can we not?” she whines.

Mary Margaret laughs, shaking her head to herself as she pours the hot milk into each cup. Emma wants to tell her, This is your son. This is your son getting touchy-feely with this boy and you’re just laughing. The thought scares her even more.

It scares her, by how easily it comes to her mind.

In how much truth it might hold.

What even...

#cs ff #captain swan #emma swan #killian jones #beautiful duckling #captain sex #ouat #otl: as you wish #fanfic #ff: ouat #ff: long and lost

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wildflower-daydreamer · 5 years

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Chapter 4 - End Game

End Game by Taylor Swift

I wanna be your end game / I wanna be your first string / I wanna be your A-Team / I wanna be your end game, end game

Big reputation, big reputation / Ooh you and me, we got big reputations, ah / And you heard about me, ooh / I got some big enemies / Big reputation, big reputation / Ooh you and me would be a big conversation, ah / And I heard about you, ooh / You like the bad ones too

You so dope, don't overdose / I'm so stoked, I need a toast / We do the most, I'm in the Ghost like I'm whippin' a boat / I got a reputation, girl, that don't precede me / I'm one call away whenever you need me / I'm in a G5, come to the A-side / I got a bad boy persona, that's what they like / You love it, I love it too 'cause you my type / You hold me down and I protect you with my life

I don't wanna touch you (I don't wanna be) / Just anther ex-love (You don't wanna see) / I don't wanna miss you (I don't wanna miss you) / Like the other girls do / I don't wanna hurt you (I just wanna be) / Drinkin' on a beach with (You all over me) / I know what they all say (I know what they all say) / But I ain't tryna play

I wanna be your end game / I wanna be your first string / I wanna be your A-Team / I wanna be your end game, end game

Knew her when I was young , reconnected when we were little bit older / Both sprung, I got issues and chips on both of my shoulders / Reputation precedes me, in rumors I'm knee deep / The truth is it's easier to ignore it, believe me / Even when we'd argue, we don't do it for long / And you understand the good and bad end up in the song / For all your beautiful traits, and the way you do it with ease / For all my flaws, paranoia, and insecurities / I've made mistakes and made some choices, that's hard to deny / After the storm, something was born on the 4th of July / I've passed days without fun, this end game is the one / With four words on the tip of my tongue, I'll never say it

I wanna be your end game / I wanna be your first string / I wanna be your A-Team / I wanna be your end game, end game

Big reputation, big reputation / Ooh you and me, we got big reputations, ahh / And you heard about me, ooh / I got some big enemies / Big reputation, big reputation / Ooh you and me would be a big conversation, ahh / And I heard about you, ooh / You like the bad ones too

I hit you like bang, we tried to forget it, but we just couldn't / And I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em / Reputation precedes me, they told you I'm crazy / I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me / And I can't let you go, your hand print's on my soul / It's like your eyes are liquor, it's like your body is gold / You've been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks / So here's the truth from my red lips

I wanna be your end game / I wanna be your first string / I wanna be your A Team / I wanna be your end game, end game / I wanna be your end game / I wanna be your first string / I wanna be your A Team / I wanna be your end game, end game

Jon - May 2016

They didn’t do much sleeping that night. He played with her body over and over after giving her little rests in between. And when he woke the next morning with her back pressed against him, he reached down and rubbed her cunt. As she slowly woke, she began to grind her ass into his crotch until she came yet again.

“Holy shit, Jon, I don’t know if I can walk properly today,“ she said with a tired but satisfied smile.

“Just stay in my bed then,“ he said with a smile.

“You know we can’t do that. I still need to figure out what to tell Arya since I never came back to our room last night.“

“Hmmm, just say you stayed at the wedding so late and you just crashed in Margaery’s bed.“

“Good idea. Okay, I’m going to attempt to get up and walk now.“ He grabbed her hand as she did and pulled her back to the bed for a kiss.

“Okay, now you can go.“ She threw on her bridesmaid dress and went back to her room to shower while he did the same. Robb left for his honeymoon so Jon and the remaining Starks were going to be staying in Kauai a few more days to explore. He met the family for a poolside breakfast to discuss their plans for the day.

“We’ll be spending the day down in Poipu, what are your plans, kids?“ Cat asked when Sansa joined them at the table. She may have looked cute and innocent in her little outfit, but Jon couldn’t help but smile as he thought of the curse words that came out her mouth as she rubbed her cunt on his mouth throughout the night.

“Arya and I were just talking about driving around, just exploring the island. We want to get to hiking, kayaking, and what not tomorrow, we’re just so burnt out today from the wedding,“ Sansa said with a sly smirk. “Jon, do you mind driving us?“

“Of course not, that sounds fun. I’ll see if Gendry wants to join us.“ Arya rolled her eyes.

They started with a dip in Queen’s Bath. Sansa stripped down to her bikini and Jon felt pride grow within him as he saw multiple sightseers stare at her lustily.

Luckily, Arya and Gendry wandered off to explore the surrounding areas. Sansa swam over to Jon and wrapped her legs around his waist, her pussy resting right over his cock.

“Fuck, Sansa,” he groaned in her ear. “You can’t start off our exploring day by teasing me. It’s going to feel like forever before I get you into bed.“ She just gave him a sexy smile that told him she knew exactly what she was doing.

They stopped at fruit stands, stores, and outdoor markets as they made their way around the island. Sansa loved the botanical garden and she kept grabbing his hand whenever they walked behind Arya and Gendry. They stopped at multiple beaches, running into the waves at each one. Sansa would gracefully brush her hands over Jon’s dick as she swam by him, it was driving him crazy. Eventually they arrived at a lookout point for the breathtaking view of Waimea Canyon. They stood in awe and pointed out the long waterfalls they spotted in the distance. Arya and Gendry went exploring to see if there was another vantage point. Jon took the moment to put his arm around Sansa and rest his hand in her back pocket. She leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder as she let out a happy little sigh. He didn’t want the moment to end.

“Ew! Gross! What the hell is going on?“ they heard Arya exclaim from behind them. They whipped around towards her, trying to act innocent.

“Nothing’s going on, we’re just admiring the view!“ Jon blurted out.

“You little liar! What are you doing, he’s like our brother!“ she exclaimed to Sansa with shock.

“Hey, I never saw him like you guys did! He’s not our brother! Please - please, Arya, don’t tell our family, no one knows except Margaery. We’re just not ready to tell.“

“How long has this been going on, whatever this is?“

“Only a couple of months, since I was down in San Diego. I really like her, Arya,“ Jon said, trying to ease her.

“And I really like him,“ Sansa said with a small smile, looking up at Jon and grabbing his hand.

“Ugh! Fine, if you don’t flaunt your gross romantic shit around me, I won’t say anything,“ Arya reluctantly grumbled.

After the canyon, they drove down to Poipu to meet the rest of the Starks for dinner. On their way back to the resort, they drove through a gorgeous tree tunnel and Jon took Sansa’s hand in his while he drove, until Arya saw it and yelled out “No!”

After a few drinks at the resort’s pool bar with everyone, Sansa pretended to go to her room with Arya to sleep. Instead, she went to Jon’s room. Jon left for his room soon after, opened the door, and found Sansa completely naked on top of the bed.

“Holy shit. I’m never going to get over this view, Sansa.“

“Come here, I’ve been teasing you long enough today,” she said sexily. He obeyed, walked to the bed where she knelt on it, and kissed her. He tried to reach for her tits but it was now her turn to smack his hands away. “Don’t worry about me right now, love,” she said softly, using his words against him. She slid his shirt off, slowly kissed and licked her way around his chest, sometimes grazing her teeth across his skin. She sat down on the edge of the bed with him standing between her spread legs, he wanted so badly to touch every inch of her. She undid his pants and slid them down. His hard cock was pressing against the thin fabric of his boxer briefs. She very lightly rubbed her hand against it, making him throb. Then she grabbed the waistband and slowly dragged them down, his hard cock falling out of them. She gave a kittenish little sigh at the sight of it and it made him groan. She took it in hand and lightly stroked him. She teased the tip of her tongue up his shaft and he let out a grunt. She swirled it around the tip and slowly took him into her mouth, making Jon close his eyes and throw his head back with a moan. She got into a rhythm with her mouth and hand as she sucked and stroked. He looked down at her and she lifted her eyes towards him as she sucked, he almost lost it right there. He wound his fingers in her hair at the back of her head and she tried to take more of his cock in his mouth. It took everything he had to not cum yet. She slid her mouth off and continued to stroke him, alternating between slower and faster as she brought her mouth down and gently licked his balls. Jon felt his legs growing weak as his orgasm built up within him. She slid his cock back in her mouth and every time he looked down, he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough that Sansa had her pretty little mouth wrapped around him. She again took it as deep as she could and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Sansa, holy shit - I’m gonna cum,“ he struggled to say. He expected her to take her mouth off of his dick but she stayed and was eagerly bobbing up and down to make him cum. He unloaded into her mouth and she hungrily swallowed every drop. She slid her mouth off when he was done, looked up at him with sexy eyes and smiled.

“Was that okay?” she asked, in a fake innocent tone.

“That was - perfect,” he said as he collapsed onto the bed. She laid next to him and draped her leg on top of him until he heard her soft breaths as she slept.

Sansa

She woke the next morning to his mouth on her breast. She could get used to waking up in these ways. Soon enough, he laid on his back and positioned her wet pussy above his head and he ate her out as she rode his face until she came.

After showers, they met Arya and Gendry at the Jeep. Today was an adventurous day of hiking to waterfalls and kayaking through tree covered streams and rivers. Sansa liked not having to hide her feelings for Jon, despite Arya’s audible grumbles, especially as they cheesily kissed under a waterfall.

“So are you guys officially together or whatever?“ Arya asked as they kayaked next to each other while Jon and Gendry raced each other ahead of them.

“No. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that,“ Sansa said softly. “I don’t know why. He treats me so well and he’s so gentle.”

“Gross. All I know is that you need to go at your own pace. You’ve been through a lot - a lot more than I think you’ve told me. And that’s okay, Sansa. Jon would understand I’m sure.“

“Thanks, Arya,” she said with a smile. “Awww, look at us getting all close,“ she teased and playfully jabbed the end of her paddle at Arya’s shoulder.

“I’ll fucking tip you,“ Arya warned, trying to hide a smile.

After kayaking, Gendry took Arya snorkeling and Jon surprised Sansa with a sunset horseback ride. She admired how handsome and manly he looked on his horse.

Even as Sansa was the happiest she had been in a long while, little thoughts kept creeping up in her head as the night wore on. Will he expect sex now? We’ve done everything else, he probably expects us to have sex soon. Am I ready for that? No, I’m definitely not, not after Ramsey. But Jon would never pressure me into it. He is so loving and gentle and he actually cares about me and I really like him, why can’t I give him all of me? As much as she tried, the little thoughts kept invading her mind enough that Jon seemed to notice as they left dinner.

“Everything okay, babe?“ he asked, placing his hand in her back pocket again. Even though she loved it when he did that, the slight sexual contact made her ever so slightly nervous.

“Yeah, I’m just exhausted from today,“ she lied. When they got back to his hotel room and into bed, she faked a few yawns and Jon pulled her close into his arms and fell asleep. What’s wrong with me? she thought as she laid snuggled up against him. You love this, you like him, you definitely want him. So why are you so scared?

Jon

Waking up the next morning, Jon felt a little sad as he looked down at Sansa as she slept. This would be their last full day in Hawaii, meaning it would be his last full day with her before he went back to Seattle and she went back to San Diego.

“Hey you,“ Sansa said sleepily as she slowly opened her eyes. “Were you watching me sleep, you creep?“ she said with a teasing smile.

“It’s your fault you’re beautiful,“ Jon answered.

“So corny!“ Sansa said and he gave her a light kiss on her smiling lips.

“I was just thinking about how amazing it’s been waking up next to you. Not having to jump out of bed and run off to not get caught.“

“It has been pretty nice. I’m gonna miss it,“ Sansa said sadly.

“Let’s just enjoy our last day in paradise, yeah?“ Jon said with half a smile.

“Deal.“ He drew her into a heavy kiss until Sansa got a call from Arya.

“We’re going on the helicopter tour!“ Arya excitedly announced after Sansa and Jon came down and met her and Gendry at the Jeep.

After calming some of Sansa’s nerves about the helicopter ride, they took off and saw amazing views of the island with Sansa tightly holding Jon’s hand. He’d softly kiss the top of her head or kiss her hand as they took in the view and it’d make her smile and relax a little. She finally eased when the Jurassic Park movie theme came on in their headsets as the famous Jurassic Park waterfall came into view, the four of them loudly humming to the music.

As Jon gazed at Sansa as she looked excitedly out of the windows at the magnificent views, he knew he loved her.

Sansa

After the helicopter tour, they had a beach day with the rest of the family. Sansa just wanted to be alone with Jon again. Even though she wasn’t ready for sex, her little worries from the previous night were gone. She knew Jon would never hurt her, he always wanted to protect her. His gentle ways with her last night and this day eased her mind.

That night, Jon brought her back to Secret Beach, where he set up a picnic blanket and dinner for them.

“Is it okay?“ Jon asked, unsure.

“It’s perfect, Jon,“ Sansa said softly with a smile, her eyes glimmering at him.

“You’re the definition of perfect, Sansa,“ Jon said as he took in the sight of her in a red dress that bared her shoulders and the tops of her breasts. He took her hand, gave her a little spin and her dress twirled around her. She giggled as he pulled her into her arms and kissed her.

After they ate, Sansa sat in front of him and leaned back onto his chest, he held her as they watched the stars and the waves gently crash into the shore.

“I don’t want to miss you,“ Jon suddenly said softly into her ear.

“What do you mean?“ Sansa asked, not sure how to take it.

“I’m going to miss you, miss this,“ he said, gesturing to her in his arms. “I don’t want to have to miss it. I want to be with you, Sans. Completely with you, not keeping it secret. I don’t want to just be another guy in your life that you don’t want to see.“

“Oh, Jon,“ Sansa interrupted him, turning to face him. “You won’t ever be like that, you’re the best man I’ve ever known.“ She placed a little kiss on the tip of his nose

“Be with me, Sansa,“ Jon said softly.

“With everything you’ve heard about me, everything I’ve told you? You want to take all of that on? I just don’t want to hurt you.“

“I want all of you, Sansa. I don’t care what reputation you have, I know you, and I know that you’re it for me.“

“Jon, I just have so many flaws and insecurities. You’re so good to me and I’m so scared that I’m going to hurt you.“

“You don’t see what I see, love,“ Jon said, gently pushing hair hair behind her ear. “I see an amazing, strong woman who has had to deal with a lot of bad shit but she came out on top. Someone with beautiful flaws. I see someone who I want to be with so bad, that I risk getting beaten up by her brother,“ he said with a smile.

Sansa could feel some of her fears melting away as she looked into his dark gray eyes. One still nagged at her though. She was still scared she would end up hurting this amazing man who truly cared for her.

“And, like I said, I don’t want to miss you. I even want to move to San Diego so I don’t have to miss you.“

“You? Jon Snow? Move away from the mountains and cold air?“ she said with a teasing smile.

“See, that’s how much I want to be with you,“ he said, placing a kiss on her smiling lips.

“Let’s do it.“

She had never seen Jon with such a big goofy smile on his face before and she loved it. He laid her on her back on the blanket, his face hovering over hers as he kissed her forehead, her brow, the tip of her nose, and then her lips.

“My boyfriend,“ she quietly practiced the words as Jon finished the kiss. He smiled and kissed her deeply.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #fanfic #modern au #game of thrones #taylor swift #end game

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