**WARNING: mildly gory images from the movie JAWS included. Slight spoiler alerts.
“You’re ridiculous!” you sighed, flopping down on the couch. Since being on hiatus Niall had fluctuated between being a bonafide party boy by jaunting off to every social and sporting event in Europe and America; and an eighty year old woman who has to be home in time for tea to watch her stories on telly. His latest obsession was “Shark Week” on the Discovery channel. He’d been parked on his couch for days watching all the shows with his laptop open to Wikipedia so he could look up more information. When you’d mentioned that “Jaws” was one of your all time favorite movies, Niall shrugged it off by saying, “Never seen it”.
“Niall, I can’t believe you’ve never seen ‘Jaws’ - how is that possible?” you stare at him, slack jawed with shock. “It’s an American classic!”
“Babe, I’m Irish” he chortled.
“I don’t care if you’re an oompa loompa Niall - that’s bullshit. We’re watching it right now!” You grabbed the remote and immediately ordered it from iTunes.
Summary: She takes a sip anyway. She kisses him anyway. His lips, teeth, and tongue all taste of it. When she breathes between their kiss she inhales the harsh burn of it, and her head spins but all she can do is demand more; curl her fingers around the collar of his jacket tighter, tighter. (Ao3)
Notes: My own little contribution to the miracle that was the Neverland arc. For Kat (@abbadons-little-witch), who has returned to school even though she wants nothing more than to fantasize about Colin and write fic about Emma and Killian smushing their faces together like God intended. xo
+ When Emma was young, she was desperate to be special. If she stood out, the possibility was greater that someone would want to keep her. That a teacher or a babysitter or a social worker would see how unusually talented or smart she was, and a nice couple would suddenly decide that it would be in their own best interest to take her home. Trouble was, of course, that no one really wanted to see an orphan. She was drowning in her clothes most of the time, and regardless of her plans, she didn’t necessarily want people to see her. She usually let her long, thick hair cover her face. She didn’t make eye contact with her teachers and peers, and even when she wanted to raise her hand in class, there was that little niggling something holding her back. A voice inside her head that told her no one wanted to hear what she had to say anyway.