i... every time i look at his chubby little fingers in the background i start giggling

cptnduckling  asked:

cs + you’ve been sleeping at mine because your house is being renovated and we aren’t even dating, yet every time you wake up to the baby crying and sigh, “i’ll go” i feel like we might as well be married :)

Sorry for the delay! I really liked this and wanted to take my time with it. Hope it’s worth the wait. ;))

On Outstanding Roommates; ~ 3, 200 words; also on ff.net

“No, no, love,” Killian, the stubborn idiot, shook his head at her and Emma didn’t even bother to suppress her eye-roll. “Liam said I can stay with him and-“

“Liam lives out of town, you doofus. Do you even realize what a bitch of a commute you will be getting yourself into? Come on!”

“Emma, I don’t want to bother you and Henry,” he sighed, scratching his ear self-consciously.

“Henry is 10 months old, Killian. He’s not even going to realize you’re there.”

“Oi! I’m not easy to miss. As you well know, Swan.”

He actually wiggled his eyebrows at her. The man was really testing her desire to save his ass.

“Just tell Liam you’re not going to bother him and Elsa, yeah?”

“I’m going to bother you instead,” he stated flatly, giving her a look.

Emma moved closer to her friend, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Oh, babe, that won’t be a new development.”


“I come bearing pizza!”

Emma poked her head from the kitchen to see Killian stroll in with a big pizza box in hand and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

“Oh, good. I was just staring at my empty fridge, wondering what I was going to feed you.”

“You wound me, Swan! I’m not going to take advantage of your hospitality to such an extent,” exclaimed Killian, free hand flying to his heart.

Emma lifted an unimpressed brow.  

“I remember a certain Halloween party after which I had a certain pirate passed out on my couch. A certain pirate that pillaged my fridge the next morning and ate the last of my yogurt.”

“That,” said the brunet, pointing a finger at her. “Was me taking my impersonation seriously.”

“The next morning?”

“It’s hard to shake off such a haunting performance, love.”

Emma rolled her eyes. She had had that argument one too many times.

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Chilly winter light streamed in through the windows, providing dim illumination even if no warmth. There was no snow on the ground outside yet, just a scattering of white, like powdered sugar blown over the landscape to frost the overgrown yellow lawn. Inside the house was quiet, the hum of the heater predominant, and even the wild splashes of paint that decorated the walls were muted.

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