wonder what she was doing last night to make her so jolly

Fic: Only The Beginning

Title: Only The Beginning
Rating: NC-17
Summary: In the immediate aftermath of the final battle, Belle and Rumpelstiltskin begin their happily ever after. Featuring a nursery, reunion sex, and the return of Belle’s wedding ring.

A/N: So this is basically all of my post-finale Rumbelle feelings summed up in a 9,000 word fic. I still can’t believe Rumbelle got their baby back, and a happy ending!

[On AO3]


The walk back from the mines is quiet.

Rumple has already explained what happened while she was nursing her ankle, the confrontation with his darker self that – even if she had been capable – Belle would have known he had to fight alone. It came out in a rush, disbelieving and shaking as they held their son together for the first time. He told her everything, and she is proud of him, prouder than she has words to express. He had fought the darkness, rejected it, and won. He had felt the shift: his darkness, the thick black magic in his veins, had turned to light. She had been right all along, and he is sorry, so sorry, for having doubted her.

The baby in the basket in Belle’s arms, their precious boy restored to them whole and innocent, is proof enough of Rumpelstiltskin’s victory. Belle tells him so, again and again, and he almost looks as if he believes this might be real after all.

But as they leave the mines, they lapse into silence.

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Bloom (2/?)

The story of Captain Swan’s pregnancy, told in many parts. Affectionately nicknamed “The Happiest Pregnancy Ever.”

In this chapter, Henry and Hook discuss brotherhood. Many, many thanks to @unfolded73 for the beta!

[Chapter 1] 

You can also read on AO3!

Chapter 2: Brotherhood

There were few things that made Killian happier than spending the afternoon on the open seas, the wind whipping through his hair, and the smell of salt in the air. He was grateful Storybrooke was a seaside town, allowing him to set out whenever he pleased. Though the pirate in him bristled at having to keep permits and licenses on him at all times, he worked with the law now – Deputy Sheriff Jones, what a title! – and reminded him that he couldn’t enforce the law if he was also breaking it. Killian supposed it was a small price to pay for the happiness he was feeling now. He had a home, a family, and a child on the way. It was everything he thought he would never have.

He wished Liam could see him now.

He was comforted by knowing that his older brother was in a better place now, unburdened by his own unfinished business. However, he wished that he could show Liam how his life had turned out, that he had finally done something right and had carried out the hero’s journey that they both so wanted many years ago.

I hope you’re proud, brother, he thought wistfully.

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Sing Me To Sleep

A Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir fanfic
Summary: In which Marinette nurses a concussed Chat back to health. Unabashed MariChat fluff.
Snippet: Marinette observed him briefly as he reclined on the couch, eyes closed with a look of self-satisfied contentment on his features. She was tempted to snap at him and tell him not to get too comfortable – she wasn’t going to wait on him hand and foot indefinitely – his cockiness definitely didn’t need any bolstering. But he just looked so peaceful, like he was right at home and this was the most natural place in the world for him to be. ‘I wonder how mom and dad would feel about taking in a stray cat…’

Originally posted on fanfiction.net and archiveofourown.org on 03/26/17, reposted here since I want to make my more memorable one-shots available on tumblr.


Pinks and yellows, frills and lace, sparkles and glitter – these were the things cherished most by the merry toddler as she twirled about the room in her favorite dress-up tutu. Today she was Princess Belle, beloved by all her plush animal subjects in the kingdom of her living room. An elaborate spread lay in front of her as she danced, so she was careful to avoid the delicate plastic teacups and the croissant Maman and given her for her afternoon snack. Her world of make-believe was full of sunshine and rainbows, despite the grey and wet atmosphere that hung around her ‘castle’.

Rain began to patter against the windows, but she fancied it to be the sound of the court minstrel striking up a jolly jig for the beloved princess to dance to. As her pace quickened, she became lost in her performance, her adoring subjects cheering for their beautiful leader to dance faster and faster. It was in her fervor that she forgot to carefully check each step before she made it, so when a flash of bright light shone in her peripheral, her distraction cost her an unfortunate misstep and she found herself tumbling headfirst into her tea party. The clap of thunder that followed rattled her nerves even farther, and soon the shock of her fall gave way to the realization that she was in pain, and scary loud monsters were coming to storm the castle.

“Marinette! What’s the matter?” her most loyal knight hastened to her side, leaving his post in the kitchen, where he had been working on preparing that night’s royal feast.
Through sniffles and sobs, the child fell into “Her royal knight, Sir Papa!”’s consoling embrace and first chastised him for getting her title wrong – again. “I’m not Marinette; I’m the princess!”
With a soft chuckle, Papa argued, “Every daughter is a princess, so even if I don’t always call you my princess, you always will be, mon petite Marinette.” Rubbing her nose affectionately with his own until she giggled, he then repeated, “Now tell me, Princess Marinette, what seems to be the trouble?”

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At Your Service

WARNING: IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN 6X11 STOP READING, STOP READING NOW!! UNLESS… you like spoilers. :)

Prompt: When Emma sent old fat drunk Hook back to the Jolly Roger, she wasn’t aware that there was no Jolly Roger in the Wish Realm. So instead, Old Hook ends up on the deck of the Jolly… docked in Storybrooke. What happens when he comes face to face with this new realm… and his spry younger self?

Author’s Notes: Thank you, @irishswanff for letting me use your prompt, I had a blast writing it! And thank you, once again, for your on-point beta skills. <3 Everyone should visit @irishswanff‘s Tumblr to see more amazing prompts!!

Read on FF.net


Killian


Strange things were happening in Storybrooke. Strange, strange things. Unusual things usually happened in Storybrooke, but this was by far the strangest. Even stranger than that time Emma’s boy accidentally found a way to bring pixies into Storybrooke. But at least Killian understood what was going on then. Sort of. But this…

It had started this morning. He had decided to pick up a grilled cheese sandwich for Emma. She remained in their bed, fast asleep. It was to be expected after all the sleepless nights spent in the Wish Realm. Especially considering when she came home, she was forced to battle Belle and the Crocodile’s infant.

Well, not an infant. Not anymore at least.

So he thought she at least deserved a surprise. And if a grilled cheese sandwich could put a smile on her face, he was happy. He knew, as always, that he would have to ask for onion rings over fries, and that alone would keep him in her good books.

He pushed open the door to Granny’s. It wasn’t very busy; only a few people sat in booths, mostly the dwarves. There wasn’t a queue, which was good. It meant that Killian could order, grab it and leave. He would return to Emma before she even awoke, and he would wake her, with kisses and grilled cheese.

His gaze flew to the counter as he stepped inside. There was an intake of breath and a, “There he is! Get him!”

Before Killian knew what was happening, he was ducking to avoid a bottle aimed at his head. It shattered above him, sprinkling crystal-like glass into his hair. He emerged to see Granny pointing a shotgun at him.

“What the bloody hell?” he shouted.

“Don’t you ‘what the bloody hell’ me, mister!” Granny growled. “You know what you’ve done. And you’re going to pay for it.”

What he’d done? What had he done? He didn’t remember doing anything. He’d been with Emma all night and all morning, for heaven’s sake.

He tried to keep his voice calm as he said, “Pay for what?”

She cocked the gun higher, right at his face. Her eyes were narrowed as she checked her aim. He heard the damn thing click. He raised his arms slowly above his head, heart beating fast.

“Don’t you give me that. Once a pirate, always a pirate, huh? Did you think that disguise would fool me? Granny?”

He kept his hands above his head. “What bloody disguise?” He wished his Swan was here. Emma would sort this out. She was the Saviour, after all. She would slowly talk Granny down, and ask her what on God’s earth she was accusing him of. Perhaps Granny had finally lost it.

“That wig. And that pot belly. But I knew it was you. I saw you! I know what you did.”

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you outshine the morning sun, my son

obligatory bit of captain cobra while cleaning out cs wips folder. obligatory hamilton reference. obligatory baby jones. i couldn’t stop myself.


Henry Mills, to be honest, was tired of the crying.

Yes, he was a fifteen-year-old who was just now experiencing the pain of a baby sibling—Roland didn’t count; the child was walking and talking completely normally by the time they met—but he was still terribly annoyed.

Liam was adorable. According to his moms, he looked like Henry himself as a baby. Henry didn’t really see it; Liam looked exactly like Killian except with hair of a lighter brown, more like his. According to Regina, Liam was a much better baby than Henry—she said it with a reminiscent smile just tinged with pain and remembrance.

But good heavens, Liam cried so much.

He spent as much time over at Regina’s as he could, but really he needed to see Emma too. So every now and then he suffered through a night or two of a screaming six pounds of young infant.

He read to the kid as much as he could, since Killian claimed that the boy sometimes actually slept a few hours at night after said story. Therefore, Henry tried to be decent and take Liam off Emma and Killian’s hands for a while so they could get a modicum of sleep. He held the kid in one arm—after Killian showing him how to not drop the wiggling child—and flipped the pages in the book.

He could have sworn that Liam preferred the tale of Charles and Leia without being told that the two were his parents.

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The Counselor (Taehyung x Reader)

Genre: Fluff & Smut

Words: 6,508

Summary: You’ve been feeling a bit…depressed. At your friends recommendation, you go to see a counselor, but…he’s a lot more than you expected.

A/N: Well! This has been a long time coming, haha. My first Taehyung smut-I figured it was time. Though, it does have lots of fluff too (because to me Taehyung is such a sweetiepie). Anyway! Please enjoy!


You are…struggling. And you know you are. Classes are rough, and homework and work makes you want to rip all of your hair out. You’re losing sleep and adapting terrible eating habits (aka not eating at all and/or eating only quick and unhealthy food), and your friends are worried.

“The University Health Department has counseling available almost 24/7,” one of your girlfriends tells you, her eyes begging for you just to listen for once, because she know that you don’t want to. It’s only another 2 months until summer, and you only need to last that long, then things will get a little better. You’re sure of it. However, you still patiently listen to her nonetheless.

“They’re not professional—they’re trained kids, our own age. People who go to the university with us that are just…listening buddies. They’re there to help us in any way they can, and I haven’t heard anyone say anything bad about them.

“And they don’t judge you!” she continues quickly when she sees your lips part, liking going to give her an excuse as to why you don’t want to go. “I’ve had friends who have gone in just to talk about their day—because it helps them to have the company around. And I’ve also had friends who have gone in and gotten deep—and it still works out fine in those situations too.

“The counseling is good,” she tells you, smiling as she grabs one of your hands between hers. Your heart aches at that moment, because you know that she’s such a good friend to you, and it’s not like you enjoy feeling this way, it’s just…

“Give them a chance, Y/N, and if you don’t like it I won’t ask you to go back. But what can it hurt?”

“My pride,” you mumble in response, and when she sends you a sour pout, you sigh. “I’ll…go soon,” you say, managing a smile. You place your free hand atop hers and squeeze, hoping to portray your sincerity. “I really do appreciate you being so concerned for me. Thank you.”

She shrugs, the atmosphere becoming a bit more comfortable she slides off her seat and moves around the café table, grabbing you in a tight hug.

“Just trying my best to be a good friend.”

“You are, trust me.”


Despite it all, you do end up going to the counseling—but only after lots of internal struggle and reasoning.

On a Friday night—when you for once don’t have work—you pick yourself up and shrug on a too-big sweatshirt and slip into a pair of trainers and then leave your 1 bedroom apartment, trudging towards the Health Center on campus.

You’re not even sure if counseling will be available at—you slyly slip your phone from your pocket and check the screen—10:03 on the weekend, but hey—if you go and no one is there, then at least you tried. You can tell your friend that at the very least you made an effort to get counseling, and then you’ll never have to go back again. Perfect!

Sadly, when you reach the health building, a woman at the front desk points you in the direction of the student mental health rooms. Tempted to sigh at your luck, you slowly make your way up the dimly lit hall—most of the lights off in order to cut electricity costs.

After a minute you find the area you’re looking for, a semi-large waiting room with 5 doors connected to it. 4 of the doors are closed—the ones labeled ‘Jackson’, ‘Hani’, ’Kai’, and ‘Jonghyun’—and through the small window you can only see darkness, so you assume they’re out for the night. The farthest right door, however, is illuminated.

Shit…

You take a deep breath, reading yourself for judgment and fear and anxiety—because despite your friends reassurance and all the good remarks you’ve been hearing about the counseling and counselors—you’re still terrified.

Eying the nametag hanging on the door handle—one which is bright blue and decorated with a mismatch of drawings (which may have been done by a kindergarten, but you can’t tell)—you wearily lift your hand and knock your knuckles against the solid wood.

It takes a few seconds, but eventually the door opens, and you suddenly find yourself face to face with a thin, chestnut haired boy. His face reflects subtle surprise, his perfectly shaped eyebrows raising on his forehead.

“Hi,” he says after a moment, and then breaks into a large boxy smile, gripping his stomach as he laughs. You take a step back, wanting to run. Is he laughing at you??—but luckily he quickly explains himself.

“Sorry, I just…I’m so used to being here alone on Friday nights, usually no one shows up, so you took me by surprise. I was laughing at myself because I’m sure I looked a bit stupid standing there, hehe~.” Reaching out a hand, his brown eyes turning kind, he introduces himself. “I’m Kim Taehyung, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you respond, still hesitant, but take his hand nonetheless. It’s large, you note.

“Well—come on in!” he says, stepping back and motioning to his little, private room. You poke your head in, surveying the area. There’s a pink and a blue beanbag on the carpet floor, a stack of books in the corner, and an old TV with a N64 hooked up. On the screen is a paused game of California Speed, which is what you guess Taehyung must have been playing before your unexpected arrival.

“I…um…,” you manage, embarrassed at your own awkwardness. But you feel bad—maybe he doesn’t want to talk to you, he was probably have a jolly fine time before you’d shown up at his door.

“Y/N,” Taehyung coaxes, his face melting into a look of understanding. He’s so beautiful to look at, and with such sincerity portrayed on his features, you’re beginning to wonder if perhaps he’s an angel of sorts.

Extending his hand towards you, Taehyung waits. Patient. He and you both know that it’s your decision to come inside, and he’s not going to force any kind of decision upon you.

You don’t want to be here, and yet…with Taehyung here in front of you…

You take his hand.

Grinning, Taehyung tugs you into his little, cozy pad, and shuts the door behind you. Immediately, in time with the sound of the room closing off, you feel emergency barriers forming around your heart, scared to let anyone in or anything out. Because in the most basic sense you are ok. You have food and shelter, and you find it in yourself to roll out of bed every day. You’re alright, but…you’re not. Not really—and while Taehyung seems like a nice guy, you don’t know him. So are you just supposed to suddenly open up and tell him all of your problems and expect him to listen and be nonjudgmental? That’s seems impossible.

“Well, pop a squat!” he tells you, diving stomach first onto the pink bean bag. His smile and personality, so far, reminds you of a little kid with no care in the world, and you begin wondering if you can confide in a person like this. Nonetheless, you stiffly step farther into the room and lower yourself onto the other beanbag, not quite sure where to look. If you look at the floor, you’ll seem shy. If you look at Taehyung, then you’ll seem a bit creepy, you think (even though you honestly would love to get a clearer look at Taehyung, because despite the dim light in the hall, you had been able to tell that he is…blessed in his features). So, you decide to stare at the TV instead, back straight and lips pressed together tightly.

God…you wish you hadn’t come.

“Hey,” Taehyung suddenly says, catching your attention. You look up just in time for him to shove the 2P controller into your lap.

“Oh c’mon!” he says when he sees your shocked looked. “This game is fun, I promise! Let’s just play a few maps!”

“I…ok,” you agree, if only because you still feel bad for intruding, and Taehyung grins happily.

“The analog stick is…kinda touchy in this game, so be careful of that,” he tells you as he exits the race he had paused and backtracks to the main menu, this time choosing the 2-player option.

“I’ve actually played this game before,” you inform him quietly, unable to help the amused grin that overtakes your lips when Taehyung’s face turns dumbfounded.

“You have???”

“I have,” you confirm, your smile unwavering as you choose your car on the selection screen. “And I’m pretty good at it too, so watch your back.”

“Ooooooohh~! I see how it is!” Taehyung teases, picking up his controller and thumbing the analog stick until he’s hovering over the golf cart option on screen. You send him a questionable look, and Taehyung licks his lips, raising his eyebrows challengingly. Your heart jumps at the sight, and you wonder if Taehyung knows that he’s making you sexually flustered at the moment.

“Golf cart is gonna win,” he simply says, picking out a course to play, and you roll your eyes, turning your attention to the screen as the race begins.

Maybe a little too into it, you and Taehyung battle it out, the barriers around your heart seeming to inch open with each line of friendly banter exchanged between you both. You’re not sure what time it is when you finally end up tossing your controller down—frustrated that Taehyung had beaten you 15-14 ONLY because an NPC had nudged you out of first place and into third just seconds before the finish line.

“That’s such bullshit!” you scream, though laughter is bubbling in your throat, and you’ve been smiling for a long while now. “I refuse to accept that!”

“Too bad! I win~!” Taehyung sing-songs, setting his controller down on the carpet and getting up to do some kind of awkward victory dance. You shake your head in disbelief, your laughter fading into desperate wheezes for air, and reach over to smack him.

However, in an embarrassing turn of events, you somehow manage to miss his arm…and smack his ass. Just a little smack! Right on the top, but…it’s enough to have both you and Taehyung immediately freezing in shock.

“You…,” he starts, brown eyes wide. Cheeks erupting with color, you open your mouth to try and explain yourself, but no words come out—because what exactly are you supposed to say?! You hadn’t meant for that to happen…!

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Tonight

Scenario: You’re close friends with Jiyong but you want more. Your plan: tease him into submission or until he makes you submit to him. Either way, you win.
Genre: G-Dragon x Reader
Words: 3800
Warnings: SMUTSMUTSMUTSMUT! Shameless ass smut and a little rough play.
A/N: This was basically written because those pictures and vids of Jiyong smoking gave me life in a way I didn’t think possible. I hope you guys enjoy!

Disclaimer: Gifs belong to their rightful owners.
________

You exhaled deeply as you took in another look of yourself in the full length mirror. Your fidgeting fingers giving away your nervousness as you wonder for the millionth time if this was a good idea. Not just with your choice of attire, but with the whole plan you’d formulated in your head.

Tonight was the night. You were going to officially, shamelessly, flirt with Jiyong. A snort left you at the thought. Flirting, yeah right. Not exactly the correct word you’d use…

And god was it true.

You’d decided on this great idea last week. When you had caught him eyeing a leggy dyed blonde Barbie doll that left the bitter taste of envy in your mouth. You hated the fact that Jiyong saw you, but never actually saw you. Always giving you smiles of gratitude followed up with hand pats and hugs saved for people you friend zoned. Never the ones you fucked.

Sure, you’d been there for him through all his trials. All his shitty relationships and watching him go home to release tension with women whose names he didn’t give a damn to memorize, even after he’d met them. It was like he never noticed your side glances of jealousy; the ugly green monster turning your gaze murderous and your face vacant of any emotion. In fear of him being able to read the lividity that shimmered underneath.

How could he have never noticed that for months now things had changed for you? Jiyong and you shared a history. A lifetime of memorizes and hidden jokes. Taking care of one another when you were sick or nursing him back to health when he somehow drank himself close to oblivion. Overrun with exhaustion from tour dates and TV programs for publicity. You never coddled him like a mother, but loved him without judgement. Both of you listening to one another’s dreams and fears and staying up way into the next morning aimlessly watching old movies or playing a song that the other just, “had to hear.”

A few times you wondered how much longer you could honestly continue to go unnoticed. To be the good friend. The feelings of being ignored and not good enough haunted you, which was stupid. Jiyong cared about you. There was no denying that, but you just wanted…more.

You craved for those light touches on your hands to be placed against your cheek, lips, and neck. Craved for him to tease you like he did with some of the noona’s. Witnessing one teasing display when he gave CL a hug. His hands had sneakily slide down her back until the rested just atop her backside; giving her ass a playful smack that left her exasperated; mouth agape in mid-laugh.

He was always shamelessly flirty with all of them, except when it came to you. The lack of flirtation left you feeling nauseous, your stomach turning: Jiyong just didn’t find you attractive.

That’s when you formulated your plan. Once and for all you would find out for yourself.

Jiyong had invited you to Café Seoul last week. It was a celebration for Teddy or Kush, you couldn’t remember. Jiyong knew you weren’t overtly fond of clubs. Actually, you tended to be allergic to them. The idea of getting dressed in uncomfortable clothes that threatened to rise up and flash underwear if you so much as sneezed left you wary. And the shoes! Oh sweet baby Jesus the shoes! At just the thought of them you glanced down at the four inch stilettos and prayed your clumsy baby giraffe legs wouldn’t betray you tonight.

Tonight you were going to be everything you wanted to be: Confident, sensual, and above all, sexual. Tonight you were going to make sure that you were seen and damn it, you would get his attention. One way or another.
___________
The bass from the club was deafening. It rattled the glass in your hand sending the liquor inside to bounce and shake to the beat. It felt oddly comforting knowing something shared the same fate as your confidence.

You’d been at the bar for over thirty minutes. Nursing a few shots to help boost your confidence before it broke, and it was working. A few men stopped by to talk to you offering to supply you with more. Their eyes glued to the sight of you and your revealing choice of attire. You politely declined their offer, giving up snippets of what little conversation could be heard over the music before making your departure.

Jiyong hadn’t noticed you yet. He was, as per usual, in the VIP section. A few females were up in the box with him and the guys. Women you didn’t know who were equally dressed like you. You watched coolly as you made your way towards the group. One girl in particular leaning in and placing a hand on Jiyong’s chest. Her body lining up with his in all the right ways to whisper something in his ear. Whatever she told him, it was enough to make a seductive smirk crease his lips. His eyes lighting up with heat as he looked her up and down.

That was enough to send the jolly green monster inside you into overdrive. It helped replace the unease you felt in your steps earlier into something fierce and predatory. Tonight you weren’t going to be overlooked.

You made your way up the small stairs that lead up into the DJ booth. A security guard put a hand out to stop you.

“I’m sorry miss this section is off limits.”

“I’m G-Dragon’s guest,” you informed him with a smile.

He gave you a side look of disbelief but, nevertheless, leaned over and called him over. It took Jiyong a minute to peel himself away from the bleached blonde attached to his side. As he made the short walk over, cutting in between his crew, it gave you enough time to admire the way the dark denim clung to his thighs and the white shirt that opened up to show the black shirt underneath.

How could someone make casual look so damn sexy?

“She says she’s with you?”

Jiyong glanced up to see who the guard was talking about. When his eyes landed on you, it took him a minute to realize who he was looking at. His eyes widened slightly as he leaned over the railing.

“Y/N?”

The disbelief was evident on his face. His eyes racked over your body taking you in. Did you really look that bad?

“Yes?” you called back.

Jiyong was still staring when the guard inquired one last time if he should let you in. Jiyong shook his head, as if to clear it, before giving him the nod of approval. The guard stepped aside and Jiyong outstretched his hand to help you clear the rest of the stairs.

Once you were inside the booth his hand gravitated to your waist and pulled you in close to his side. His lips finding your ear and you fought not to shiver as hot breath cascaded down your neck.

“What are you wearing?”

“Ugh, I think they call it a dress,” you teased.

He didn’t share in your joke. Instead his eyes wondered to the delicate strip of cloth that showed the tops of your breasts.

“I know that but what are you doing wearing something like this?”

“It’s a club, Ji. I wanted to dress for a night out. Why you don’t like it?”

Your heart was thundering with mixed emotions. On one hand, you felt damn good. It could’ve been the added effect of the liquor or just finally feeling damn good in your skin. The fact that he had you pinned so close to him with the musky scent of his cologne overpowering your senses didn’t hurt either. On the other hand, you could feel your confidence chip away just a tad as he continued to assess the outfit. Finally, his eyes caught yours as he replied, “I don’t think “like” would be an appropriate way to describe it.”

A smile lifted your lips as wiggled out of his tight hold. Tease him, that was the plan.

“Well, I guess I did good then.”

You made your way to the back of the booth where Teddy and what looked like a few of Jiyong’s friends from YG were posted. The minute their eyes caught sight of you they widened; smiles and cheers greeting you as you got closer.

“Damn Y/N I didn’t think it was possible for you to look this good.”

A bubbly laugh escaped you as you greeted them all with a hug.

“Gee thanks assholes.”

You went to stand next to Teddy hyung when you felt an arm slide across your lower back pulling you in the opposite direction. You were grateful for the loud music when a shriek of surprise left you. Only to find yourself back against a very protective Jiyong.

“Stay close,” he yelled towards you.

It took everything in you not to smirk in satisfaction. This was going easier than you thought it would. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted the bottle service the boys started. Jiyong’s favorite tequila sitting front and center. Still pressed against him, you reached your arm out, your chest pressing against his as your fingers laced around the cold glass. Lifting it from the tray he looked at you, a question forming on his lips.

“Do you want to pour it for me?”

Your eyes held the heat of a challenge and when Jiyong’s eyebrows quirked up, you knew you had him. He took the bottle from your hand, his fingers playing delicately over yours.

“Tilt your head back,” he commanded, and you obeyed.

Closing your eyes, you opened your mouth welcoming the liquid inside. If it wasn’t for your stint at the bar earlier, you were sure you would’ve coughed at the taste. The warm liquor slid down your throat and to your core sending out heated signals that danced across every nerve. You found yourself giggling as you open your eyes; your tongue running over your lips as you looked at him.

What you saw staring back at you almost cut it short. Jiyong was looking at you, really looking at you, as if for the first time. His eyes locked on to your lips. A hunger so intense resonating through them that it threatened to turn your legs to jelly. As soon as the DJ turned on a new song you immediately started dancing.

Pulling away from Jiyong just enough to give you space to fight off the effects of the desire he’d ignited inside you. Your hands went up above your head as your hips found a rhythm. The tempo of the music just fast enough that your hips swayed without effort.

You didn’t have to look behind you to know that Jiyong was watching. His watchful gaze left your body feeling hot, making you dance faster to try and shake it off. He wasn’t the only one watching you dance, however. Everyone who usually saw you as the innocent best friend had their eyes on you. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

You let your hands fall over your body as the song dipped into a slow bass. One hand playing with the hem of your dress; teasing before letting it go and skimming up and over the fabric. A strong arm wrapped around your waist, pressing your body up against a chest you knew all too well.

The mixed scent of his cologne and cigarette enveloped you as he leaned in again. Hot words whispered into your ear: “Yah Y/N, what are you doing?”

You leaned back until your head was cradled in the hollow of his shoulder. Your movements never slowing as your back side slid across the rough fabric of his jeans.

“Can’t a girl have a little fun?” you purred in response.

It pained you to do it, but you disconnected yourself from his grip. Turning around to see a mixture of that hunger with anger; sending a shiver up your spine. His hand snaked out fast, folding itself against your lower back, and brought you back against him. This time your faces inches apart. Close enough you swore if either of you breathed, your lips would touch.

“Depends on what kind of fun.”

You didn’t have an answer for him. Not when he was this close. When his lips were mere centimeters from your own. You saw the flash of a camera go off and it was just enough to jolt you out of your lust-filled haze. Your eyes came alive with mischief as your lips curled in a smirk. You pushed yourself away from him, eyes still on him as you moved away from him.

“You have to behave, Jiyong. I’m allowed to cut loose every once in a while.”

With those last words hanging between you, you fully turned and headed back towards Teddy hyung. He was more than happy to great you in a hug. One arm staying on your shoulders as you both swayed to the music, hips bumping into each other in an intoxicated mess of rhythm.

Let Jiyong stew in his own juices, you thought.

Tonight was the night you would play hard to get. As you continued to dance and talk to the others, you kept a watchful eye of Jiyong in the corner. He was lighting up cigarette after cigarette. His eyes boring holes into you as he watched every touch you laid on Teddy’s arms. Every time you both leaned in to be heard over the music. Every now and then he’d start dancing to a beat, but never long enough to make him quit staring.

When he went to light up his sixth cigarette you decided to intervene. Your fingers hooking into the cotton of his shirt, as you closed the distance between the two of you with confidence. It was your turn to brush your lips against his ear as you spoke: “Don’t you think you should slow down?”

His eyebrow quirked up in challenge. His words biting as he shot back, “Are you my mother now.”

You felt the words like a slap in the face but refused to retreat. You knew Jiyong was only bitter because you’d abandoned him. So instead of giving in and cowering you shot back with your own demand.

“Shotgun with me.”

Your request earned a look of shock as he tried to see if you were joking. You most definitely weren’t. Without giving you a chance to back down he inhaled sharply on his cigarette; two large hands wrapped around your face as his lips closed in with yours.

You knew this wasn’t the brightest of ideas to do. You were out in the open and already seen plenty of fans taking pictures, but you couldn’t help yourself. And as your fingers tightened in his shirt and his lips neared yours you realized you wouldn’t have stopped it even if you wanted too.

Right when the tips of his lips brushed yours was when he slowly exhaled the smoke. Instinct took over and you inhaled, feeling your lungs burn at the toxic intrusion. When it was over you moved to take a step back, but Jiyong wouldn’t release his hold on you. You looked up at him, perplexed. A question sitting heavy on your tongue when his hand reached out to grab yours abruptly.

He dragged you through the crowded booth and beyond it. You tried to shout a question a couple of times. Each time the booming music in the club drowned it out. It wasn’t until he pushed through a door that indicated the bathrooms did you understand what was going on.

A large part of you thought he was taking you there to bait you. Yell at you and demand to understand what the hell you were doing. You never acted this brazen with him. But that wasn’t what happened at all.

As soon as he slammed the door to the bathroom closed, making sure it was locked, he had your back pressed against it. His mouth finding yours in an instant and your world exploded.

His lips were intoxicating as they possessed yours. It wasn’t sweet, but demanding. His teeth nipped your bottom lip as his fingers from one hand grazed over your scalp. Tightening just enough to send your body into overdrive as the other hand found its way under your dress. Nails grazing along the spot where thigh and ass meet.

His tongue grazed along your bottom lip asking for entrance and you gave it willingly. The minute you opened up Jiyong wasted no time running his tongue along yours. Devouring you as he moved down suddenly, leaving a trial of bites and kisses along your throat and jaw.

“Is this what you wanted, Y/N?”

God, his voice was like liquid sex. Husky and running along your skin like velvet.

You found yourself unable to speak; to conjure up words as a skilled hand moved the short fabric up higher. A finger tracing delicately along the thin cloth of your panties. He gave a slight tug on your hair. The jolt of pain mixed in with your desire and you couldn’t stop the moan from breathlessly escaping your lips.
Jiyong ate it up in an instant. Grinding his body against you enough to feel the growing bulge straining against his pants.

“Did you like acting like a little tease?”

“It was fun watching you squirm for once,” you shot back in a breathless retort.

He stilled against you and for a horrible moment, you thought this would all end. He moved his hand from underneath your dress. His fingers untying themselves from your hair as he took a step back. His eyes locking with yours as you struggled to focus. You opened your mouth to say something, maybe even plead for him to continue, when he beat you to it.

“You liked seeing me squirm? I guess I’ll have to return the favor.”

Using his foot, he kicked your feet open until your legs were wide apart. His hands lifting the remainder of the dress up exposing your panties you’d picked out just for tonight. By the smirk on his face you knew Jiyong approved. You wanted to ask him what he was going to do, but all words ceased when his hand cupped your sex. A finger rubbing against the wetness he’d created sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. Making your mouth gasp open and your back arch. His thumb finding your sensitive bud and circling it.

Jiyong moved his free hand up; fingers gliding delicately over your collarbones as he pulled the straps of your dress down. Exposing your breasts to the cold air making your nipples harden instantly. So many words filtered through your head, but none of them made it to your mouth.

Another moan tore loose from your lips as mouth found your breast. Sucking your nipple in between teeth as a skilled tongue circled around it. His free hand kneading the other before switching. Your legs felt close to buckling as he moved the hand that had been stroking your sex down into your panties. A finger gliding over the slick wet folds sending your mind into a frenzy.

Your fingers clawed into his shoulders trying to find support. Your breathing halting for a nano second as he slid two fingers inside you. His teeth biting down gently on your nipple at the same time, causing your hips to jerk into him. A silent, “fuck,” filled the space between you and you weren’t sure if it had been you or him. At this moment you honestly didn’t care.

His skilled hands worked you over. His fingers curving just right, finding that sensitive spot inside you. Your fingers were digging into his shoulders as your legs began to shake. You were so close already: and just like that it stopped.
When his hands and mouth left your body you couldn’t stop the whine of displeasure that left you. The smug smirk on his face making you want to hit him if you could just feel your legs. You opened your mouth to speak but he quickly laid his back down on top of yours. His kisses hungrily eating every breath you tried to take until you felt dizzy.

Placing strong hands on your hips he pulled your forward and towards the sink. Giving you a second to grab a hold of the white porcelain before the sound of cloth tearing jolted you back to the present. You watched through the mirror as he pocketed your panties, smirking at your reflection.

“You won’t be needing those back.”

“How considerate,” you sighed.

You watched as he started to unbuckle his belt, realizing too late that you didn’t have any condoms. They were in your purse back at the table. You were about to voice the bad news when you watched Jiyong take out his wallet and producing a foil package. Noticing you were looking he simply said, “I’m always prepared.”

“Thank god.”

He chuckled as he ran a hand over your back side before giving it a slap. A yelp of surprise left you and immediately he appeared worried.

“Was that okay?”

All you could do was shake your head yes because, hot damn, you couldn’t describe how that felt. All you knew was that you liked it.

“Good.”

Jiyong wasted no time ripping open the foil packet with his teeth, tossing the paper, and rolling the condom on. When you felt him at your entrance, his hands on your hips, you felt your body tense. This was it. There was no going back and even if the option was there, you wouldn’t take it.

When he pushed inside you a moan instantly tore between your lips. Your sex stretching to accommodate his length. He waited a few seconds before he pulled out and pushed back in. His grip on your hips tightening until you knew there would be bruises tomorrow. His pace began to pick up speed; his body claiming yours without mercy.  

One hand let go of your hip and slid up until it was wrapped around your throat, lifting you up and back against his chest. Turning your head until you faced him so his lips could claim yours. His pace never slacking until your legs were shaking and your orgasm was building.

“Are you close?” he breathed against your lips.

You couldn’t answer him. You could only give a shaky nod of your head. He drove inside you faster; a hand reaching out to grab you under your knee to place it up against the sink. The angle intensifying his thrusts until the last one left you screaming his name. Your orgasm crashing against you as your body struggled to keep you up against the sink. A few moments later, Jiyong followed. His pace slowing until it all together stopped. His head resting against your back as he struggled to catch a breath.

After you both felt like it was possible to stand without falling over, you righted yourself. Starting the awkward process of cleaning yourselves up.

“That was awesome, but next time, let’s try for a bed,” you stated.

Jiyong sent you a smirk. He took a second to fix his hair in the mirror before he turned around to give you a chaste peck on the lips.

“That can definitely be arranged.”
_______
I hope that you guys enjoyed this. I was up in the air about posting it but, what the hell right? -J

Fic: How Lucky We Are (7/?) (M)

Author’s note: It’s finished! My muse is happy and I hope this chapter makes you happy too. Enjoy!

Also posted: FF.net / AO3

Chapter 7

Killian had been right. There were guards on their door. In her anger, she’d missed them earlier. What had they heard? Emma flushed, recalling Killian’s taunt the night before. But so what if they did? Emma was an adult; she could make her own choice. If she wanted to be with the man she loved, then she would, propriety be damned. She’d been lonely too long not to seize happiness wherever she found it.

Emma nodded to the guards as she pushed open the heavy door. She had no idea what to say to her pirate; she wanted to apologize, to explain. All she wanted was to protect his life, but what kind of life could they have together if he didn’t get the closure he needed? Was she truly that selfish? Most of all, she wanted this trial to be over so they could leave. She loved her family, but she wanted to see the world beyond her parents’ kingdom.

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Elevator Hug - part 2

Hey guys- this is the second part of ‘Elevator Hug’.

Part 1 can be found here:

http://ailingnoor.tumblr.com/post/160177931956/elevator-hug

Again, thank you to the amazing @jia911 for helping me to proofread!! <3

Disclaimer:  This is written before 13x22 airs ;)

The following day turned out to be challenging for Amelia. She and Alex were working on a 10 year old boy who had a brain tumor and needed surgery to remove the tumor. The problem was the boy’s father who didn’t believe in surgery. He strongly refused the surgery to be performed on his son, and ended up having a heated argument with Alex. The boy’s parents refused to sign the consent for the surgery- much to Alex and Amelia’s dismay.

But there was nothing they could do about it, as it was against the rules to operate on a patient against the parent or guardian’s wishes.

As Amelia stood at the nurses’ counter outside the boy’s room, watching the weak looking boy and his parents from a distance, she shook her head sadly. She knew at the rate the tumor was growing- the boy wouldn’t have long to live. The parents might regret their decision when the boy dies. There was no grief like of a parent who had lost their child. She knew that. She had experienced it before, and it was like a part of her heart was ripped apart from her, leaving a permanent hole that could never be filled.

She stood staring at the family- wondering whether there was anything else she could do to help the boy. Maybe she could device a plan with Alex to push the boy into surgery without the parents’ consent. And risk getting fired. Was that worth it?

As she was lost in her thoughts, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to come face to face with Alex Karev.

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anonymous asked:

Sanvers fic where Alex or Maggie gets too drunk and puts on really heavy PDA in front of the whole supersquad or something like that ???

“Danvers!” Maggie almost screeches as she sees Alex walk out from the bathroom.

“Where have you been? I’ve missed you?” Maggie pouts as she wraps her arms around Alex’s neck and Alex cocks her eyebrow at her clearly tipsy girlfriend.

“I missed you too babe, but I’ve been gone for like two minutes, I went to pee.”

Alex studies Maggie’s face.

“Did Winn buy you another shot whilst I was gone? No fair.”

“Maybe but he buys the best bomby things?”

“What on earth?” Alex laughs, amused at her girlfriend’s look of concentration as she tries to remember the name of the drink.

“The German sounding one.”

“Jägerbombs?”

“Yes! What you said Danvers. God you’re intelligent. You know everything Danvers, everything.”

Alex laughs again at her girlfriend. She’s tipsy, the kind of tipsy where you feel like you can tell the world anything and the world understands, but she’s not absolutely wasted and Alex relaxes, knowing that neither her, nor any of her friends would let Maggie lose too much control. And she realises, realises it’s ok to let loose, to have a few drinks now and then, to play stupid drinking games and to laugh like their world didn’t almost drown along with her two weeks ago, like Maggie didn’t wake up drenched in sweat, panicking because she’d had a nightmare that Alex was gone, gone, gone. Like Alex didn’t sometimes stop breathing when she walked into an elevator because walls, walls, walls.

“Shall we get you a glass of water babe?”

“But I’m not that drunk. I’m just jolly. And gay. Happy gay,” Maggie laughs. 

“But also gay gay. Because I’m gay, gay for you Danvers. Gay gay gay. And so are you, now. I helped you realise that didn’t I Alex? That was good. Now we’re gay together. Gay happy together and gay gay together.”

Alex just stares at her girlfriend, wondering if this rambling was something she always did when she was drunk or if she’d subconsciously picked it up from Kara, but Alex indulges Maggie as she leans in.

“Really gay Sawyer. Really fucking gay. And the things you did to me last night. Super gay.”

Alex hears Maggie’s breath hitch and Maggie’s hand reaches behind Alex to squeeze her ass and Alex sighs and moans slightly at the contact.

“Well I personally vote we spend the rest of tonight, and tomorrow, and every single day after that doing really gay stuff.”

“When we’re both sober babe, we can gay it out all we want.”

Maggie huffs slightly. “I am sober,” but then she hiccups and she sees Alex’s I told you so face.

“You’ve had just as many drinks as me!” Maggie points almost accusingly.

Alex shrugs because Maggie is right, and truth be told, Alex was feeling slightly tipsy too. Tipsy enough to indulge Maggie, to kiss her, to let her squeeze her ass, because god they both wanted it. And god seeing Maggie so free, so happy was something Alex always wanted to see.

“Maybe, but I know how to handle my drink,” Alex winks and Maggie groans because Alex Danvers winking in tight blue jeans and a leather jacket does things to her.

“And I don’t?” Maggie challenges and she walks slowly away from Alex, resting agains the pool table, crooking a finger to Alex, inviting her to come closer.

Alex walks over slowly, making sure her walk doesn’t betray the growing feeling of warmth from the drinks she’s had.

She places her hands either side of Maggie’s and leans in.

“We’re in the middle of the bar,” Alex husks into Maggie’s ear, her lips hovering over her earlobe.

“Hmm, not a fan of PDA Danvers?” Maggie teases as she brings her head up, eyes locked with Alex’s.

With that Alex crashes their lips together and she groans because fuck Maggie tastes of beer and whisky and slightly of peppermint and then Maggie’s hands are reaching up to tug on her hair and she almost whimpers as she feels Maggie’s lips leave hers, but then they’re on her neck and shit that’s gonna leave a mark, but Alex doesn’t care because it feels so damn good. Her hands pull Maggie closer into her, away from the pool table and her hands find Maggie’s belt buckle, her hands wandering until they slip into the back pockets of her jeans, squeezing lightly.

But then Alex hears a squeal that sounds suspiciously like her little sister and she reluctantly pulls away and she watches as Maggie’s eyes flutter open slightly, pupils dark. She turns as she sees Kara blush from where she’s standing at the bar as she buries her face into Lena’s neck, and James is laughing and Winn is whooping.

“Good god Agent Danvers, it isn’t enough I have to listen to those thoughts, now I have to see them too?” J'onn groans, but there’s a teasing lilt to his voice and Alex smiles as she pulls Maggie with her, joining her friends, her family at the bar, sitting on the stool, spreading her legs and pulling Maggie into her.

Maybe letting loose once in a while wasn’t so bad after all.

Out of the Frying Pan (3/?)

“Several things.” She put her glass down slowly, lifting her three fingers up, the glow from the restaurant’s overhead lights reflecting off her ring. “One, I want to know why you got Robin so drunk last night. Two, I want to know why you’re being so snippy now and throughout the day and, three,” she wiggled her pointer finger for extra emphasis, “I want to know why you were trying to smirk at Emma Swan after the meeting this afternoon.”

“What?” Robin coughed, eyes wide at as he gaped at Killian. Killian, for his part, glared at Regina and did his best to brush Robin off, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and pressing his lips together tightly.

“Yup,” Regina answered, popping the letters off her very red lips. “Nearly fell out of his chair when she walked into the meeting.”

AN: Lots of Killian and lots of Mills-Locksley family feels and kind of on the short side this time around. We’re back to our regularly-scheduled mass of words later this week. As always, a flashing neon sign of THANK YOU to @laurnorder who is the best and just reads all my words. 

Living the life on Ao3 and also tagg’ed up on Tumblr

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I Hurts to See You and Him

Originally posted by once-upon-a-captain-swan

Originally posted by desperatemurph

Originally posted by missprongs

Hook is pulled into a curse which sends him back in time, to when Neal and Emma are on their whirl-wind romance, robbing convenience stores, and squatting in hotel rooms. But what will Killian do when August comes into play and he has to watch Emma experience the heartbreak that built all of her walls? Will he change the past? Or let Emma down in her time of need?

beta’d by: @looselipswontsinkships

also read on: FFN

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The Silver Chair

> “Leave us,” she said to the two Earthmen.  "And let none disturb us till I call, on pain of death.“  The gnomes padded away obediently, and the Witch-queen shut and locked the door.

> "How now, my lord Prince,” she said.  "Has your nightly fit not yet come upon you, or is it over so soon?  Why stand you here unbound?  Who are these aliens?  And is it they who have destroyed the chair which was your only safety?“

> Prince Rilian shivered as she spoke to him.  And no wonder: it is not easy to throw off in half an hour an enchantment which has made one a slave for ten years.  Then, speaking with a great effort, he said:

> "Madam, there will be no more need of that chair.  And you, who have told me a hundred times how deeply you pitied me for the sorceries by which I was bound, will doubtless hear with joy that they are now ended forever.  There was, it seems, some small error in your Ladyship’s way of treating them.  These, my true friends, have delivered me.  I am now in my right mind, and there are two things I will say to you.  First—as for your Ladyship’s design of putting me at the head of an army of Earthmen that so I may break out into the Overworld and there, by main force, make myself king over some nation that never did me wrong—murdering their natural lords and holding their throne as bloody and foreign tyrant—now that I know myself, I do utterly abhor and renounce it as plain villainy.  And second: I am the King’s son of Narnia, Rilian, the only child of Caspian, Tenth of that name, whom some call Caspian the Seafarer.  Therefore, Madam, it is my purpose, as it is also my duty, to depart suddenly from your Highness’s court into my own country.  Please it you to grant me and my friends safe conduct and a guide through your dark realm.”

> Now the Witch said nothing at all, but moved gently across the room, always keeping her face and eyes very steadily towards the Prince.  When she had come to a little ark set in the wall not far from the fireplace, she opened it, and took out first a handful of a green powder.  This she threw on the fire.  It did not blaze much, but a very sweet and drowsy smell came from it.  And all through the conversation which followed, that smell grew stronger, and filled the room, and made it harder to think.  Secondly, she took out a musical instrument rather like a mandolin.  She began to play it with her fingers—a steady, monotonous thrumming that you didn’t notice after a few minutes.  But the less you noticed it, the more it got into your brain and your blood.  This also made it hard to think.  After she had thrummed for a time (and the sweet smell was now strong) she began speaking in a sweet, quiet voice.

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Onward (1/1)

Summary: Years after his resurrection, Killian dreams of a changed Underworld and finds some unexpected closure. (On AO3.)
Rating: G
Word Count: ~2700
Pairing: Killian/Milah, Killian/Emma

A/N: Had Millian feels this morning so I just sat and wrote this because I am still FURIOUS that they didn’t get to see each other when she helped rescue him in S5.

It’s been years. Killian thought he’d gotten past all the lingering emotional stress from his time in the Underworld, but recently he’s been having these dreams – dreams of a morphed Storybrooke, with a reddened sky and a town full of long-passed residents from every realm imaginable.

The thing is, they aren’t memories. There’s something decidedly different about the Underworld in his dreams than the one he recalls being psychologically tormented and physically tortured in all those years ago. He wishes he could put his finger on it, but it’s a tad difficult when, upon waking, the dreams become fuzzy and the images all but fade in his conscious mind.

And they aren’t nightmares, either, which is peculiar. Killian has very few good memories in the Underworld. His reunion with his brother was one. That had given him closure in a way he’d never thought possible. His friends (family, really) saving him from a gruesome fate at the hands of Hades himself, that’s another good one. Discovering that his dearest Emma was, indeed, his True Love… well, that had been one hell of a good memory, even if the subsequent parting with her filled him with despair. Perhaps ‘bittersweet’ is more apropos. Most of his time spent in that dreadful place, though, he’d rather wipe clean from his brain. The searing, electric pain of being at the end of Hades’ lashes. The heart-wrenching feeling of inadequacy and uselessness when the god threatened his loved ones. The pure, unfiltered rage that bubbled inside of him at learning of Milah’s fate, once again fucked over by that devil of a man he spent so long trying to exact revenge upon.

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Summary: In which Emma and Killian are both a little impatient.

Notes:  I don’t even know, you guys.  Emma, Killian, and Belle basically have a sleepover on the Jolly Roger for reasons.  Post 6x03.


When evening falls, and the sheer bliss begins to ebb into something much quieter, pleasant like the crystalline sight of the moonlit bay stretched like warbled glass before him, Killian wonders aloud –

“How much longer are we fated to wait?”

The sea, of course, answers only in echoes, water that leaps up and smacks the hull.  It’s a rhythm to which he’s grown quite accustomed.  For weeks, now, he’s been consigned to the cabins of the Jolly Roger.  She was the lady love of his life for centuries, of course, but as the trees erupt with the colors of fall, and the winds grows higher and harder along the waves, Killian can’t help but recall the sparing nights he’s spent in his Emma’s bed, wrapped as much in her quilt as in her arms.  She bears the scent of the forest – the sweet decay of red and yellow leaves underfoot – and of sweet waters.  And though the enchanted oak of his ship is sharp and familiar, the paints along the gunwale yet bearing the cloying smell of the plants from which they were wrought, it can hardly compare.

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A Thousand Years

‘A Thousand Years’- Christina Perri

Warning/s: Sad but has a happy ending!
Rating: Teen
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Pairing/s: Killian Jones (Captain Hook) x Reader
Prompt: 'y/n was a villager & also Hook’s wife since Red was her bff she wanted 2 see her & convince him to go but they were separate it Regina capture her & end up being on the sleeping curse When Hook arrives to storybrooke finds &Wakes her’- @Dixie-ittoki-weasley23

Summary: So the reader is Hook’s wife and Red’s best friend. One day she convinces Hook to come with her when she visits Red but they’re separated and the reader is captured by the Evil Queen

Words: 2285

 

With a sweet kiss to your husband’s temple, you managed to gather the will power to leave your lovely, warm bed and go make breakfast. While on board the Jolly Roger, you usually spent your nights with Hook in bed and your mornings cooking food for the rest of the crew.

Not that you minded, of course. Being a waitress at The Dragon’s Head meant you were used to cooking continuously, so you counted this as extra practice.

Hearing Killian’s booted feet stomp into the small kitchen, you felt warm hands slip around your waist and a gravelly voice murmur in your ear, “You know you really don’t have to. The men can look after themselves, love.”

“I know,” you replied, twisting in his arms until you were chest to chest, “but I don’t mind.”

Returning to the breakfast, you added, “Oh, and I was wondering if you wanted to join me visiting Red today.”

He grimaced. “Not the wolf?”

With a roll of your eyes and terse voice, you told him, “Yes, the werewolf. She’s my friend- my best friend- so you’re gonna have to deal with it. Just come with me today and get to know her; I’m sure you’ll love her.”

Offering you a sullen grunt in reply, he nipped out of the kitchen with a sip from his beloved rum.

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She Left No Instructions

So, I sat down to write a sweet, little fluffy piece in keeping with the theme of @csjanuaryjoy​. Somehow (as is always the case when I try to write fluff), I ended up with this monstrosity of an exploration of grief and death. So be warned, this whole thing revolves around character death. But before you accuse of getting too far from the theme, I’ll just say it’s always darkest before the dawn…and joy comes with the morning. As always, you can find this on ff.net (I’ll work on getting that collection on Ao3 eventually, I promise). Thank you to everyone involved in putting this together. @icecubelotr44

Word count: 8.9k


It happens exactly as she said it would.

A dark night. A hooded figure—a dark sorcerer Killian hadn’t heard of until Jasmine spoke his name. The flash of streetlights on metal. The crunch of sword piercing flesh.

He remembers rushing forward. He remembers knowing it was too late before Emma’s body hit the ground. He remembers a hoarse shout beside him—hoarse, young—and the scrape of pavement under his boots, the brush of fine wool under his fingers. He remembers tackling Henry to the ground, shielding him from the heat of the sorcerer’s flames and the sight of his mother’s burning body.

Jafar leaves them nothing more than ashes to bury.

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Thank the Alcohol

They’ve never said a word to each other until Rachel decides she needs a date to Kurt’s party and his neighbor will do.

Inspired by this post.

The knock’s lazy but Blaine hears it over the music from the down the hall. He stretches and puts his book down before getting up, wondering what anyone could want at this hour.

A tiny brunette is waiting for him behind the door, leaning against the frame rather heavily.

“Hello, 2B,” she purrs with a wide smile on her face. Blaine smells alcohol on her breath and chuckles. The party has not bothered him and this is a rather amusing break from his studying. “I’m Rachel.”

“Hello, Rachel,” Blaine greets her politely. “What brings you here?”

“I need a date.”

“Oh?”

“It’s Kurt’s birthday. You know Kurt? He lives right there,” Rachel says and points at the door down the corridor.

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Honey, you’re familiar like my mirror years ago

Canon speculation/most likely eventual divergence for 6x10 and 6x11: Emma runs into the wish realm version of her true love, and finds that her princess counterpart was not as innocent as she seemed.

Word count: 3,230

Rating: M-ish

Also on ao3 & ff.net

Inspired by this post from @ohcaptainmyswan

This is my second CSSS gift for @flipperbrain ! This is just a short little piece that I was excited to write for awhile and figured it’d be a nice little addition to your other gift :) both canon divergent AND Captain Duckling. I hope you like it!


Babe
There’s something lonesome about you
Something so wholesome about you
Get closer to me

There are many things that Emma Swan knows.

She knows that you should never let your gas tank run out when it’s the dead of winter in Massachusetts. She knows that if you’re going to wear heels to catch a perp then you better have a backup plan if they run because fuck no. She knows that little boys should absolutely not be allowed to eat cap’n crunch before bedtime, especially if they sneak chocolate milk in the bowl. And she knows that when the Evil Queen is involved, you should probably expect that shit will go from bad to worse in the blink of an eye, or in this case, the closing of a portal.

Because god, what a clusterfuck.

She can’t say she’s angry at Regina, because it’s Robin, and Emma knows that if she had been in that situation, and a breathing, smooth-talking Killian Jones were to enter back into her life in a sudden second, well, a portal would be the last thing on her mind.

Still, Emma wishes she had just grabbed them both and jumped, figured out the rest later as she laid in bed next to her pirate, with her kid sleeping safe and sound down the hall.

Instead, here she is, sitting in her pretty princess dress, white gloves and white dress, fur-lined cape and painted lips (she’ll give her wish realm counterpart some props, though, because her hair looks great) and she’s got no idea where to go.

So yeah, Emma Swan knows many things, but she sure as hell doesn’t know how to get herself out of this mess.

Regina and Robin went off to “talk” somewhere private, though Emma suspects talking will lead to something entirely different in just a short period of time, and she doesn’t want to be around any of that.

Instead, she finds herself perched on a barstool in some dive of a tavern, running her fingernail along the grain of the wood and playing a game of hey, I wonder if I can avoid getting a splinter! with herself.

She’s losing, but it’s the effort that counts.

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