told you he was subdued


Request: “hey could you do a kylo fic were you’re basically his slave and you pretty much worship him and most of the time he’s sweet (enough) and dismissive but he can get forceful during sex if you don’t obey his orders. But you act happy about it and you always reassure him when he’s insecure and you’re always flirty and you hardly leave his room and you have to just like wear lingerie like 24/7 (sorry if this is too crazy but i love your writing so much!!! thanks boo xxxxx)”

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 2891

Warnings: Smut

A/n: took the slave part of this request a bit too literally haha but I hope you guys like it!!

It was no easy task, being Kylo Ren’s lover. You had not chosen to be, but somehow, it was as if some higher being had always planned for you two to be together. Bound by fate. The fate of the invasion of your home planet, the fate of the First Order Stormtroopers taking you captive after you hadn’t found an adequate hiding place, and fate that Kylo Ren took a very deep liking to you.

You were the first and last slave he chose to do his bidding, for his commands only deemed it necessary to keep one. He could’ve had others if he had liked, but he hated the idea of it all. They expected him to be a merciless leader, to show authority and lead by example, and yet Snoke had willed him to choose a personal slave so to encourage the other men. Encourage them of what? Kylo thought. That I’m no better than a lusting pig?  

The answer had already shown itself in his mind. It was all for his image. If the soldiers saw that he could take whatever he wanted for his own, to charge someone to his side against their will and subdue them to obey him, then they would automatically subconsciously want to do the same. To lead by example, so that they might become the example itself. It wasn’t that his inferiors didn’t already fear him, it was just that after the sequences on Starkiller base, after their defeat, most had lost some respect for him. His battle wounds humanised him, very detrimentally, in the eyes of all those who served the First Order.

And so, when Hux had lined up twenty-three native women of the planet they had just inhabited, Kylo was quick to choose the one who stuck out like a sore thumb. You. The reason he was drawn to you, apart from the fact that he was almost immediately attracted to your striking appearance, is that you were the only woman not crying. If he were to pull around a human-sized burden, he would prefer it to be one he didn’t have to carry kicking and screaming.

“You.” He pointed to your tired face, his voice crackling in his vocoder. “I’ll have her sent to my quarters.”

You grimaced, already knowing what to expect. You were all women in this room, it was so plain to see what type of slavery you’d be in for.

Keep reading

Ordinary IV

Originally posted by yhkkx

Word count: 1099

Warnings: Angst; Kinda Asshole Taehyung // I feel sorry to make him that way 😵

Author’s note: Hey guys! You may noticed that there is no gif of Chanyeol and Yoongi. That is why from now on I will only put gifs in if the member appears in the chapter. I thought so you always get a small spoiler at the beginning 😉 (Does this somehow make any sense?!)

Special thanks to: @itsugasmile @btsnamv @cringedylan @hemabeauandmehisbae @bangtansonyeondanbtsmemes @eyesopenwide16 ♥♥

Also a great shoutout to my sweet @parkchimchimworld! She is a wonderful person and a fellow german companion :D

Please ALL have a nice and safe day/night ♥

–> Masterlist


!! Requests are closed !!

Excerpt: It was silent for a minute till you let out a horrible scream. His words hit you right on the spot where it hurted the most. Greater than any pain you have ever experienced. Because there were true.

Keep reading

Jared Leto x Reader PT 2

Author’s Note; so i’ve gotten some requests to do a part 2 to the jared leto x reader imagine in which the reader asks Jared to roleplay the Joker in the bedroom and he takes it too far. Sorry it took forever and sorry it’s so long. Hope it’s ok!!

The rushing sound of water filled your ears as you leaned up against the gleaming white sink that sat in front of you. Its beautify was tattered with the bubbles and suds of water mixing with soap as you rubbed your hands together under the faucet. For now, it was the only thing that contained your attention better than anything else in the room. You stared blankly at the lather that spread across your fingers while your mind continued to race with the events that just took place previously during that night. Why were you washing your hands? what was it that you were trying to rinse away; shame, vulnerability, pain? Whatever it was, it was overcome by the smell of warm vanilla sugar and Los Angeles faucet water. 

Distant rumbling on the other side of the door caught your attention, but you couldn’t look away from the mirror. The distorted image of yourself blurred into a cascade of colors as tears stung the bottom rim of your eyes. You couldn’t fully understand why you were so upset, but something about the way he seemed to fully disregard you when you were underneath him set your anxiety on edge. His eyes were different, they grazed your skin with lust like always, but there was a hint of desolation behind them. It was as if he was void and his mind was trapped in a place much darker than what you were used to seeing from him. What was he thinking about? 

You shook your head vigorously as if trying to dispel the image of his eyes above yours from your mind, but they remained. They peered through the center of your mind like two headlights flashing through a pitch black highway; stern, unmoving, desolate and frightening. You knew that this was what you had asked of him, but the intensity behind his actions nearly sent you into a downward spiral of fear. 

A stinging pain in your left forearm caught you by surprise and a gentle flexing of your skin revealed that damage was indeed done. The hard imprint of his hand stained the outside of your skin like a battle wound and you couldn’t stop yourself from continuing to poke at it as if it were some kind of unknown parasite attached to you. It spread across your wrists and decorated the inside of your forearm with small patches of red inflamed skin that would turn black and blue for sure tomorrow. Normally, when a situation like this happened, you simply applied makeup, wore bracelets or even long sleeves.However, this wasn’t like one of Jared’s random love marks, it was intense. It resonated with the pain of lust, control and sadism. There was nothing about it that screamed affection or loyalty it just, hurt.

“Babe, can you please open the door?” his voice slid through the forefront of your mind and echoed off the bathroom walls as if he were standing right next to you. It knocked you from your thoughts like a radio slowly being turned to the MAX by twisting the small knob that said “volume.” Had he been talking to you this entire time without your knowledge? 

There was a desperation to his voice as if he were trying to convey an urgent message to you behind his words, but you wouldn’t budge. You’d never go so far as to say that you were afraid of him, but a deep isolated piece of you was disturbed by what you had seen from him earlier that night. 

“I’m fine….I just need to shower.” You lied simply while running your fingers delicately over the shower knob that read “hot.” Truth be told, you just wanted to forget all about the events of that night, and be ultimately immersed by the velvety escape of the hot water and steam of the shower. It was always the root of your salvation when it came to stress so why couldn’t it wash away the dread you were currently feeling? 

It didn’t take long for the heat to reach your skin and the water to beat relentlessly against your body as if it knew exactly which spots to ease. It sucked away what little energy you had to be emotionally distressed and left you with a feeling of utter ease. Jared’s shower always left you baffled for it had magic powers that filled you with the sensation of being in paradise. However, the moment you reached up to adjust the shower head, a painful sting over lapped your comfort and caused you to furrow your eyebrows. 

The slight limp to your wrist informed you that it was indeed damaged to some degree and the gentle red swelling around it meant that a bruise was sure to form sooner or later. Had he really gripped you that hard? A sigh rippled through you when you realized that you were so concerned with his fingers around your neck that you paid no attention to his restraint on your wrists. Silly girl, this was what you asked for, was it? The feeling of hopelessness, the sensation of being out of control and the overall excitement of trying something new. Yet, you were overwhelmed by the fear of how far his dominancy would take him with you. How tragic was it to be completely in love with the idea of something that you knew nothing about. You had researched this before; the idea of dominancy and BDSM. You had even read stories about it to promote your ideal of having a healthy sex life with you partner, so why did it end up like this after all that mental preparation you had put ourself through? How could you even face him now? what would you say? This was all your fault…..

You were immensely displeased when you found that the hot water was growing stale and was keenly replaced with lukewarm dissatisfaction.  How long had you been in there? Time always seemed to pass slowly when you took warm baths or hot showers, but this time felt as though you were in there for ages. The silence on the other side of the door caught you off guard because you half expected him to be standing there waiting for you. Instead, you opened the door to reveal him lying fully awake staring at the ceiling. He didn’t look at you when you entered the room and you were grateful to him for that. The last thing you needed were his eyes on you, watching your every move and making it hard for you to breathe. 

Oddly enough there was so much that you wanted to say, but the intense stare he had directed towards the ceiling left you at a loss for words. Perhaps you shouldn’t say anything then. 

“I’m sorry….” he said simply and the silence of the room was broken with his voice. You wanted to say something to soothe him, but nothing came out. The subtle ache in your throat reminded you of what he was apologizing for and you instantly winced. 

“Can we just talk about it tomorrow?” You requested. The hoarse callousness of your voice hit the atmosphere with a hidden tone of regret as you turned your body away from him. He had to have heard it and the shifting of his body shook the entire bed. You were caught off guard when you felt his arms snake around you and before you could stop it, your body tightened in response. What were you afraid of?

You fought the urge to recoiled from him in an effort to spare his feelings, but instant sigh that slid through your lungs was enough to subdue you. You told yourself that he didn’t mean to hurt you, that he was only giving you the characteristics that you wanted, but when you all but begged for him to stop, why didn’t he? Why did it seem like the more you wanted him to stop, the more entertaining it was for him. Did he enjoy your pain? The questions rattling through your brain bounced around the inner folds of your skull as you prayed for sleep and the sudden grasp of it was so sudden that it was disorienting. 

It happened again; the sudden shortness of breath and the unwavering tightness of his fingers around the based of your throat. 

“Stop. Please. Please, Jared. Stop. I can’t….” the straining fits of your voice were cut off by the lack of room your airway had to produce breath and the sudden sound of his laughter only made the sensation worse. You were suffocating slowly while he was enjoying himself, and the warm vibration in the center of your chest was warning you that you wouldn’t be able to withstand this much longer. The fingers you had managed to curl around the wrist that he held snugly against your neck grew limp and you were beginning to lose sight of reality. The small prayer you spoke to yourself went unanswered.

“Jared. Please, look at me. I want you to stop.” You were surprised when his face moved closer to yours and he began to whisper in your ear. HIs voice was low and the raspy tempo behind it surprised you. 

“You said you’d die for me. Prove it.” He demanded, and the growl that resonated at the base of his throat seemed nearly inhuman. 

You were unprepared for your body’s lunge towards the ceiling and the sudden need to intake air ricochetted through your lungs like a bullet in a room made of metal walls. The darkness of your bedroom greeted you as your shelter while the moonlight from the bedroom window alerted you that you were now awake. An idle hand slipped up to the base of your throat to insure that it was clear, and the deep breaths that slid through your frame were accompanied by slight patches of sweat throughout your body. It was just a dream, but the dull ache was still there as if his fingers were resting at the sight of the discomfort even though he was resting peacefully beside you. 

He was lost in his dreams and the peaceful demeanor of his frame nearly made you want to touch him, but the distant feeling of unease stopped you. Could you really face him tomorrow? Could you really sit face to face with him and discuss your fear?

No. You needed time, time to really figure out what you had just experienced. Perhaps your warped idea of BDSM was nothing like the real thing and perhaps his experiences with it was different. Is that really the kind of thing he yearns for; choking, beating and harming a woman he cares for to arouse himself? You couldn’t handle that thought and your anxiety was doing nothing but forcing even more disturbing images into your head. 

Before you realized it, you had acted on your first thought and began slowly packing your things. Slipping away from him was easy because if there was one thing you knew about Jared, it was that he slept like a rock. As long as you could remain quiet, you could gather what little you usually left at his house and head back to your own. You simply weren’t ready for this yet, and some time away would give you just what you needed to collect your thoughts. He’d understand, wouldn’t he?

It didn’t matter because you were out the door long before he could open his eyes to greet the horizon and the sound of your small car puttering down the road was the only sound that comforted your ears. It didn’t take too long to get to your home, after all, you lived in the city which was no where near the giant mansion that housed the infamous Jared Leto. 

You were greeted by the small living room of your apartment and the sweet smell of your scentsy pot that illuminated the air with the aroma of divine peach tea; it was your favorite. How long had it really been since you stepped foot into your apartment? Maybe a few weeks or a month? It was still just as clean as you left it and you couldn’t be more relieved to find yourself alone with time to think. 

The hours passed by quickly and you weren’t surprised when you felt yourself drift slowly off to sleep after being home for nearly 2 hours. You were emotionally dehydrated and found yourself extremely grateful for the dreamless rest. It washed over you gently and held you for what seemed like hours until it was shamelessly interrupted by the persistent buzzing of your phone. You wanted to answer it, to wake yourself from the comfort of your own bed and face the music, but you didn’t. Instead, you restlessly rolled around in your sheets until you felt the need to use the bathroom. 

The distant illusion of ease over took you and you tried your best to forget about the events of the night before. A warm shower, some food and maybe even shopping would help wouldn’t it?

Your body moved slowly as you tinkered around in the bathroom, first showering, then moisturizing, slight make up, and finally clothes. A mid-sleeve cardigan placed on top of a deep colored blouse and a pair of dark denim jeans. A few long dangled necklaces hung from the front of your frame, while a cream colored watch decorated your wrist. A few turns in the mirror and you decided that you were ready to leave your cocoon. Lounging around your house would only make you even more depressed and with your anxiety all you’d end up doing is recounting the events of the nights before and it was the last thing that you needed. 

Your fingers glided over to your phone and you instantly regret even touching it when you notice the 28 missed calls and the 22 missed text messages. They gradually got worse the further you scrolled. 

Where are you?
When are you coming back?
We’re supposed to be talking.
You’re seriously going to ignore me?
This is not the time to be acting like a child.
I’ve called you at least 7 times. 
Are you at least ok?
Are you at home?
I’m coming over.

You stopped reading when you reached the last one and immediately began your texting assault on his reply. 

I just need a little space. I’ll ttyl.

This should be enough to subdue him for now, but you knew full well that with Jared’s attitude he was probably already in the car and on his way. However, you refused to be there when he got there. You grabbed your purse and headed to your car as fast as you could in an effort to avoid running into him, and you sighed with relief when you found yourself comfortably locked inside, alone. Your slow descend down the street was filled with the confidence of knowing that you were currently safe to make your own choices for the day. 

Shopping was more of an ease than you had first realized it would be, and the helpfulness of the shopping attendants filled you with relief. A soft collection of summer blouses, flare skirts, cardigans, sweater vests, and denim jeans filled your bags. It was finally that time of year again and you refused to try and condition your winter clothes in an effort to make them work. 

Alas, your days of pursuing hobbies turned into an endless precession of hours, to days, to weeks, and you knew more than anything that your silence would most likely fuel Jared to rage. It’d been nearly 2 to 3 weeks now that you’d avoided him, his texts, his voicemails and his phone calls. However, at the point and time you didn’t really care. His previous text messages had called you childish, rude, and possibly even cowardly when you thought about it considering he hated the fact that you wouldn’t face him. So maybe you had drawn out your silence for too long, but what did he expect from you? If you weren’t ready, you just weren’t ready. Had he truly underestimated your stubbornness? 

The distant ringing of your phone caught you off guard and distracted you from your current project ; gold foiling. It’s amazing the things you learn from Youtube. Slipping your phone between your shoulder and your neck, you stuffed a few scripts of trash into the trash bin and headed towards the door. 

“Hello.” You answered simply while nearly head butting yourself for not looking at the caller ID first. 

“I’m coming by.” He said simply and the non emotionally truth behind his words scared you at first.

“Jared?” You questioned.

“shouldn’t take long.” He stated. It didn’t take long for you to protest as you reached for the door.

“I’m not even home.” You lied pulling the door open to find him standing there with his phone in hand sitting inches away from his face.

A crack appears in your daily life and it makes you rethink everything. You were caught in a lie, and he hated lies. 

“Do you think, I’m stupid?” He questioned rhetorically with a slight hiss behind his voice.

You felt like a fool standing there in front of him, but he didn’t speak anymore. He simply stood there, staring at you, straight faced as if he were waiting for you to say something or do something. Your body reflexively dropped the trash bag in your hand and slid behind the door of your apartment, closing it in his face. 

You were caught off guard by a sudden pounding on your front door, but before you could move, you heard it; his voice. It was softer than usual and sounded as if he were literally planted against your door. “ ( y / n ) please, open the door. “ You couldn’t stop yourself, and before you realized it, you were leaning on the other side of it, listening to him. 

“I ….can’t. Can you just ….stop?” You asked. You didn’t know or understand what you were asking of him this time. You didn’t want to leave him, and you didn’t want him to go away but the thought of being close to him just sent your stomach into knots; and not the pleasant kind.

“I’ve been calling you for weeks, can you please just open the door for a second?” He asked, but his voice was more stern this time. He was impatient.

“I don’t think we should talk right now J.” You folded your arms across your chest and put a slight hint of aggravation in your voice to show your seriousness. There was another pounding to the frame of your door and you jumped.

“Open the door.” he growled. You weren’t expecting him to persist, and the memory of his raspy voice in your ear that night made it feel as though his hand was around your neck again. There was a gasp for air on your part, and your body wouldn’t move. You were never afraid of anything, yet here you were falling away at the seams struggling with the decision to let him in or walk away. 

“Stop.” You answered simply folding your arms across your chest. It was silent for a moment, and if you didn’t know him you’d swear he was gone but you knew better. Both of you stood there, shuffling your weight trying to figure out what to do next and then he started again.

“Look in my eyes, you’re killing me, killing me…..all I wanted was you.” he all but hummed in the distance & you groaned. It was your favorite song and you didn’t appreciate him using it to lure you in. 

“I’m not leaving. Open. The. Door.” He insisted. Your fingers slipped around the lock and twisted it unlocked, but you didn’t open the door. Instead, you simply backed away from it. 

“What do you want?” You asked.

Before too long, the door swung open and he walked through with a look in his eyes that you don’t recall ever seeing before.

“What do I want? You disappear for nearly 3 weeks and that’s all you have to say to me?” His voice was steady, and what made you worry more as that it was unwavering. How could a man talk so calmly when his eyes were full of an emotion that mimicked rage? “You actually think it’s ok to fucking vanish in the middle of the night and ignore my calls and shit for weeks?” His annoyance was clear but his expression seemed as though he actually wanted an answer from you. His eyebrows arose in curiosity and his head inched forward slightly as if he were egging you on to say something. His fingers slipped into his front pockets as he approached you and you followed suit by continuing to back away. 

“Whattya what me to say?” You asked slightly irritated. 

“I want an answer.” He spoke simply continuing his pursuit in your direction. 

“Well I don’t know what to tell you.” You said simply, pausing in your retreat and leaning against the living room chair next to you. 

“Don’t know what t….” He chucked before placing his hand at his chin and glancing off to the side. 

“Sit down.” He motioned for the chair before sitting down himself. When you didn’t move, he spoke again.

“Sit. Down.” He asserted without so much as raising his voice. His hands found themselves in his lap as if he were trying to contain himself, and he sat back in the chair comfortably. A deep breath slid through your lips softly as you finally heeded to his command and sat in the chair across from him. 

“That’s not good enough. I’ve gone weeks without a word from you. Silence isn’t going to work this time. Not anymore. We need to talk about what happened, now.” He was stern and wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

“You came all the way here, for that?” You asked.

“Well, if you weren’t being a child and ignoring my phone calls and things then we could have sat down like adults and talk about this.” 

“Adults? Is that what you call what happened that night? Just us being adults?” You questioned more annoyed. 

“I did what you asked me to do. You’re the one who wanted to roleplay.” 

“And you’re the one who took it too far.” 

“Too far? You asked for the Joker, and the Joker is what I gave you. You think because you watched what, 3 scenes of the character that you’re completely ok with everything that surrounds him? You wanted that side of me, so I gave it to you. I opened up a piece of myself for you because it was what you said you wanted from me, and instead of opening yourself up and telling me that you were afraid, you just sat there. You sat there and said nothing, but when I asked you what was wrong and I came to you to talk all you could do was run away from me, and ignore me. Did you take into any consideration how i’d feel at all? Do you really think that, that was the right move?”

You didn’t say anything, and for a glimmer of a moment you could swear that he sounded hurt by your actions. Hurting him was not your intention, but the idea of being intimate with him or touched by him made you uneasy. How could you convey your feelings? Yes, I was a moron. Yes I wanted something that I knew nothing about. Yes I was stupid for running. Yes I was childish for ignoring you, but what should I have said?

You did everything in your power to ignore his gaze but the subtle burning of your skin in response to his stares was more than you could bare. You didn’t know what you were risking when you asked him to roleplay his character in bed with you. You had forgotten about the countless months he spent researching the Joker and his motivations. The timeless hours of submerging himself into a character that was so deranged that he himself fought tooth and nail to remain sensible. Even after the movie was over, he required days and nights alone to regain some kind of peace from the character, but the Joker was every where. The fandom involved in the prince of gotham would never let him go, and there were times you could see him struggling with the same ordeal. No one, could let go of the Joker. Even you, who asked for him in the confines of your bedroom, were nearly overwhelmed by the small glimpse you had gotten of him. Did you really believe that asking him to tap back into that character would be easy? How naive. 

“I….Didn’t want to hurt you. I just ….wanted to try something different, something new. I like dominant you, I like things….that I shouldn’t, and it’s not fair to ask you to do those things that…I don’t know anything about. So just forget it.” You urged. 

“Do you really think that after all you’ve done to me in the past few weeks, you can just say something like that, and not have to explain?” he questioned while raising a brow.

“I ….I’ve read about ways that couples ….keep things interesting in their sex lives. Roleplaying and BDSM was….one of those things so….I wanted to try. Maybe I skipped over some important details but most of the stuff that I read about reminded me of your character in the movie so I just …..I don’t know. I thought it would come natural and would be fun for you … I just figured…” You were embarrassed at this point and didn’t want to go on. 

“Thought it’d come natural?” His question seemed offended. 

“I’ve seen your browser history. Plus you said so yourself that you had a blast playing the Joker and that it was exciting to explore that side of you that is interested in exploration and blah blah blah. I can read between lines, J.” You answered slightly annoyed. You knew him well, and the more he tried to skim around your validations, the more irritated you got. 

His demeanor grew with humor and his eyes lit up gradually as he looked at you. 

“I’m not denying it. I just wanted to know why you thought jumping into this without actually talking to me would be smart. Bondage, dominant submissive behaviors, roleplaying, all of those things require communication and trust. You didn’t communicate to me what you really wanted and you definitely didn’t communicate to me that you were afraid or whole heartedly wanted me to stop. What’s worse? You didn’t trust me enough to talk to me either. Instead you decided on your own, to run out on me in the middle of the night and ignore me for weeks. In sexual practices like the ones you skimmed over, you can’t do that.” He stated in an as a matter a fact tone. 

“What would happen if I did? I mean If I wanted to practice and to learn. What would happen then?” You questioned. 

“I would punish you.” He said simply with a small nod to his head as if this was common knowledge. 

“Punish me?…..Do you want to punish me right now?” You question.

“Yes.” His words came slow, but his eyes glanced over your frame even slower.

“What’s stopping you?” 

“I’m not going to touch you.” He sat back in his chair.

“You don’t trust me?” You asked. 

“No, you don’t trust me. I don’t want what happened last time to happen again. Besides, you owe me an apology.”

“I……I’m sorry.” you trailed off. 

“Did you really think that I would hurt you? Have I ever hurt you?” He questioned offended again.

“I wasn’t ….I wasn’t as scared of you as I was humiliated with myself. I didn’t fully understand those practices that I read about or the Joker character that you played. When I asked you to do that, I should have communicated better. For that, i’m sorry.” You admitted. He nodded as he listened to you and it seemed like he fully accepted your apologize.

“If I ……..let you punish me, will you trust me then?” You suggested.

“You want me to punish you?” 

“Please?” Your question rang off the wall of your apartment with desperation. You didn’t want to feel the current emotions that rattled through your frame, and instead, the only thing that occupied your mind was seeking his forgiveness. He was only doing what you asked, and if rules were what you needed then rules were what you two would create. The only question is, would he forgive you now?

Hook's Secret

So, people are jumping on the ‘What does the promo meeeeaaannn?’ bandwagon, and I thought I would add my headcanon to the mix.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Emma asked him.

Hook shuffled a little and she could sense his discomfort.

The two of them were in the forest surrounding Storybrooke, trying to find clues as to where the Flying Monkeys have been hiding…or are they nesting? Either way, they had just about given up, so Emma had decided that now was as good a time as any to confront him about his changing story in regards to the message he received.

“Nothing of import, lass,” he replied.

She rolled her eyes. “I know when you’re lying, remember?”

He smiled at her without humour. “Aye. It makes it difficult for a man to have his secrets.” He didn’t seem particularly put out by this, just resigned.

“So, what is it? Is it about Henry? Or Neal? Or the year of memories everyone has lost? What?”

He sighed. “It isn’t any of those things, love. If I had felt you needed the information for your current quest, I would have told you.”

“C’mon, Hook. You know I’ll find out eventually. It’s about the message you received, isn’t it? Your story changed.”

“I just…didn’t want to explain to you or your parents right then. It is a long tale, and hardly bears repeating.”

“Repeat it now.” Her voice brooked no argument.

“Fine,” he told her, clearly not too happy. “The memory potion didn’t come with the message. I was given instructions on which ingredients were required, instead. They were quite rare, and it was a challenge to acquire them, particularly since I assumed the quest was of a time-sensitive nature.”

Her instincts went on immediate alert. “What did you do? What happened?”

“There was only one person that I knew that could get me the ingredients quickly. A man that deals in rare objects such as those.” Emma could see the tension in his body. Hook definitely did not want to tell this story. She felt almost bad for pushing him, but she knew that she needed to find out what had happened. For his sake, as well as hers.


Hook hesitated, and she could see his jaw working. She waited. “Blackbeard,” he said eventually. “My father.”

Emma felt her brows climb to her hairline. “Seriously?” she muttered faintly.

The corner of Hook’s mouth quirked up. “Seriously.”

“I thought your father abandoned you at sea?”

“Oh, he did. We crossed paths years later. It wasn’t a happy reunion.”

Emma’s heart ached for him. “So, that’s what you’ve been hiding? That you had to see your father again?”

“If only it were that. You see, Blackbeard never does anything without payment. So, when I went to him, I knew that I would have to trade for the items I needed to save you. And I only had one thing of value.”

Emma felt tears gather in her eyes. “The Jolly Roger,” she whispered. Hook blinked a few times, then nodded once, sharply.

“Oh, Hook. You gave up the Jolly to a man you despise, for what? A chance to return me to my family?” She moved closer to him, drawn by the need to offer comfort. Emma had the feeling that she couldn’t even imagine half of what this had cost him.

She squeezed his hand, and he flipped it to entwine their fingers together. He rubbed his thumb over her palm, thoughtful. She didn’t pull away, didn’t want to.

“You know I didn’t do it for them,” he told her in a soft voice. “I did it for you. To see you again, to save you, to make you happy.”

Emma’s breath caught in her throat. “But your ship…”

“Nothing I wouldn’t give up a thousand times for you. You should know that by now, Emma.”

She blinked away the tears forming in her eyes and looked down at their interlocked fingers. The thing was, she did know. He really would come back to her, for her. Always.

It was such a significant gesture, him giving up his ship, his home for her. She thought about the other time people in her life had made big gestures in the name of their love for her. Her parents, sending her away, twice; Neal, abandoning her to a prison term; and even she had followed in their footsteps by giving Henry up. All those acts of love, and all she had been left with was loneliness.

Yet, here was a man who had done the opposite. He had broken the toxic trend that had threaded through her whole life. His act of love was to cross realms to return to her, to be by her side. To bring her back to the people that loved her.

At this realisation, Emma felt a wave of overwhelming emotion, much of it directed toward the man standing in front of her, looking at her nervously. She couldn’t speak, could only wait as all those emotions settled into three she recognised: affection, gratitude, and relief.

She looked up into Hook’s eyes and squeezed his hand. “Thank you,” she told him with the utmost sincerity.

He gave a subdued approximation of his old grin. “Ah, Swan,” he began affectionately. “One day you will realise you are worth it all and more.”

Author’s Note: I was going to make them kiss at the end there, but since I wanted this to be an approximate headcanon, I figured it was too soon for that kind of thing. But they will need to have an emotional moment like this sometime soon, I’m sure.

Speaking of headcanons, I think that the only thing Hook would conceal from Emma is his own heroism/sacrifice. If it was about Neal, I think he’d tell her, which was proven in Neverland. Still, you never know.