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mayquita · 5 years

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Pictures of Reality (13/16)

Merry Christmas everyone!! This week has passed almost without realizing it but we’re already here, with a new chapter of PoR. As always, thank you so much for all your support and for continuing to give this story a chance.

Summary: Emma Swan returns to her birthplace, Storybrooke, in search of a fresh start after a life marked by abandonment and betrayal. After a year there, she finds the stability she needed and also the possibility of learning about one of her passions, photography. Killian Jones, a former British war reporter with a tragic past, establishes himself in the same town as an instructor of photography, following in the footsteps of his best friends, the Nolans. What will happen when their paths cross? Will their common passion for photography help them heal old wounds?

Rating: M (Language, mature themes, implied sex)

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, mentions of the loss of a limb in an armed conflict.

Other ships / Characters: Although, obviously, this is a cs fic, Snowing plays a major role here, mainly David. In fact, the story contains three different points of view, those of Emma, Killian and David. Also, Henry appears in the story as Regina’s adopted son but he is not Emma’s biological son.

Beta: I’d like to express my gratitude, as always, to my beta @jarienn972 I’m aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.

Artist / art: Go visit @imagnifika’s blog and enjoy her amazing art. The art that accompanies this chapter includes one of Emma's post on her Instagram account. I’ve added it at the end, for reasons...

Art for the prologue/ Art for chapter 1 / Art for chapter 2 and banner / Art for chapter 3/ Art for chapters 4-5 / Art for chapters 6-7/ Art for chapter 8 / Art for chapter 10 / Art for chapter 11 / Art for chapter 12

Special mention to @saraswans , thank you so much for your perpetual support, for believing in me when I doubted myself and for offering ideas to make this story grow.

Don’t forget to go read and enjoy the rest of the amazing csbb stories and art.

Word count: ~ 7800 (116k total in 16 chapters)

Also on (From the beginning): Ao3 / Ffnet (Current Chapter) Ao3 / Ffnet

Tumblr: Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

What to expect from this chapter? This is one of my favorites. In fact, it includes two of my favorite scenes from the whole story. David is involved in the first one. As for the other one… you’ll have to read it…

CHAPTER 12

My dearest Emma,

You probably would be surprised because today is not your birthday, Christmas or any other special event, but I felt the need to bare my soul and I have not found a better way to do it than through you, my dear daughter.

I may be a fool after so many years apart, but I still hold the almost vain hope that someday these letters, these little confessions in the form of written words will come to you. That's why I will not hesitate to continue writing to you until I exhale my last breath, Emma.

And I need you today, I need to hold on to something stable when my whole world falters and despair threatens to take hold of me, while I feel helpless, unable to protect my loved ones.

I have already talked to you on more than one occasion about Killian and how I have felt guilty several times because my paternal instinct, that which should have been destined to you, was directed instead towards that child who is now a grown man. On the contrary, my desire to protect him has not changed in the least as he grew up. When misfortune seems to prey on him, hit him again and again, my protective instinct grows.

That is why now the feeling of failure is more intense. Killian lost his love yesterday in tragic circumstances and my wife, your mother, lost a great friend. And I was unable not only to prevent it from happening but also I don’t know how can I comfort them, how can I help them when the pain is also consuming me inside.

It is hard to see how the flame of Killian's eyes is slowly disappearing without you being able to do anything to fan it. What can I do, Emma? How can I help my friend? My family?

I desperately hope that wherever you are, your life is full and that you have found happiness. Otherwise, what would be the point that we had spent all these years away from you if we didn’t manage to give you your best chance? I don’t know if I could bear the thought of failing you as well even more than we did when you were born.

As I told you in the rest of the letters, I keep thinking about you every day and I keep fantasizing about the idea that you and we are destined to meet sooner or later. Who knows? Maybe it's not too late for us or for Killian. Maybe one day we get to be a complete family. Until then, my best wishes go to you,

Your father who loves you deeply and who never forgets you,

David.

David Nolan. Storybrooke - March 1, 2018

"Emma, are you inside?" David knocked on the door again, with no response. Still, he didn’t want to give up now that he had come this far. "I've talked to Henry. I know you're home."

After a few more seconds of waiting, the door was still closed and there were no signs of Emma. Maybe she is taking a shower, he thought of a failed attempt to convince himself. Reluctant to leave without at least making one last attempt, he rested his ear against the smooth surface, trying to pick up any sound, however subtle, that told him Emma was indeed there.

Maybe it was his imagination, but he seemed to sense the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. That was all he needed. "Okay, then." A sigh of resignation escaped his lips. "I would have preferred this conversation to unfold without any barrier between us, but I suppose this is better than nothing."

He placed the box on the floor next to him as he stood in front of the door, his forehead and the palm of his right hand resting on the wooden surface. He swallowed, dragging down the lump in his throat and closed his eyes for a moment, pulling himself together before beginning to speak.

"I... I didn't come here to apologize, nor to excuse any of our acts. I hope... I really hope we have the opportunity to continue this conversation when you feel ready."

David paused, waiting for some reaction from Emma. Still nothing. He pinched the bridge of his nose as the shadow of doubt crossed his mind fleetingly, making him question whether it was really worth continuing or was just a waste of time. He came to the conclusion that, although he didn't get any response from Emma, at least he would be able to expel those thoughts from his system.

"I'd like to talk about Killian today. I'm aware that you're mad at him, I... we understand your reasons. Our behavior was certainly inexcusable and it seems that we make one mistake after another in relation to you."

The grip of guilt and regret had not loosened the pressure on his heart over the years, on the contrary, from time to time it took a swipe at him, causing a bleeding wound difficult to plug. For that reason, he was forcing himself to defend his friend, as a way of putting a bandage on his wounded heart, as a means of atoning for his sins.

"He had no idea of your identity when he started the course. We didn't know you were going to attend either, so I guess it was just a matter of chance that you two crossed paths."

He breathed out on a shaky exhale before continuing, while he hoped to keep his voice stable enough now that the most painful part of his explanation was coming. "We... I took advantage in a certain way when he was at a low and vulnerable moment to ask him for help. Now I see that I should never have put him in that situation. You were our responsibility, not his. He has had that pressure on him, the idea of being a burden for us, of not being enough. I suppose that although, in a selfish way, I thought I was offering him the possibility of feeling useful. How wrong I was..."

David paused again as he pressed back his ear against the door. This time he did hear something, it wasn't his imagination. It was the sound of something or someone slipping down from the smooth surface, as if a person had been leaning against the door and was letting its body slide down. He imitated the position he thought Emma was keeping on the other side of the door and sat on the floor, aiming to be even closer to her.

"Confiding our secret and asking him to help us get to know you were a burden for him, reaching the point that he felt unable to handle the situation and was willing to leave to give us more time to figure out how to tell you the truth."

Once he had started with that exercise of sincerity he could not stop. "Regina told us about your past... Emma, I know I said earlier that I wasn't going to deal with that topic today, but let me tell you just this, I'm so deeply sorry..." David blinked a couple of times, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. "If I had known that you were going through this ordeal we... I don't know, there's no point lamenting now. We... we just were terrified of ruining everything you had achieved here in Storybrooke if we told you the truth."

David was aware that his voice sounded broken but also honest. He expected Emma to at least appreciate that. "It turned out that we ended up doing just that, not only with you, but with Killian." Before continuing, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Despite the inner struggle that Killian has been carrying these months, I had never seen him as happy as when he was with you. His gaze had regained its vivacity after so many years, so I beg you not to close the door to him for good. I'm certain that you are both meant to be together and I would never forgive myself for having cut off the wings of your future. I know that I'm placing a responsibility on you that you don't deserve but, if you feel the same for him, as I suspect you do, I only ask you to give him at least one chance to explain himself."

He rested the palm of his hand on the door, caressing the surface while he imagined it was his daughter whom he caressed in an attempt to comfort her. "Thanks for listening to me, Emma." He whispered as his gaze fell on the box he had brought. "You may not believe it or even find it insulting, but since I had the opportunity to see you for the first time when you were just a newborn baby, I never stopped thinking of you. You've always been with me, Emma, both in my mind and in my heart. When you open the door you will find proof of my words."

No sound or movement came from the other side of the door. After letting out a deep sigh, David finally got up and started walking away from the door, feeling that with each step he took, he moved further away from his soul, leaving it hidden in a box in the middle of a lonely hallway.

Only when he went outside and was hit by a cold breeze did he realize that his cheeks were wet from the tears that had finally escaped his eyes.

Emma Swan. Storybrooke - March 1, 2018

Emma remained in the same position, sitting on the floor, her back and her head resting against the front door of her apartment for what seemed like hours, as she let the tears fall freely down her cheeks.

By the time she had heard David's voice on the other side of the door, she had felt paralyzed, unable to react at first. Slowly, a wave of mixed feelings had begun to take hold of her. She wasn't prepared to listen to revelations about her origins or to relive her terrible experiences as an orphan. For that reason, she hadn't opened the door, but David's voice had attracted her like a magnet, so she had stayed there all the time, assimilating his words while her heart constricted in her chest.

His voice had given off a raw honesty that Emma had not expected. Even so, her anger had increased when her suspicions were confirmed through David’s words. Killian had been just another victim, who had made wrong decisions, but excusable because of the complex position in which he had found himself.

She could not forgive them, not yet, not when his confession and the little glimpses he had dropped were too painful to ignore.

But she had also been unable to stop her emotions, and after squeezing her eyes closed in an unsuccessful attempt to keep the tears for falling, she had finally given up. At least she had managed to swallow the sob bubbling in the back of her throat, both hands covering her mouth, forcing herself to remain silent.

She waited a few more minutes, terrified at the thought of opening the door and finding that David was still there. When she thought that more than enough time had passed for him to leave, she finally got up, but before opening the door, she looked through the peephole to make sure that the hall was empty.

There was something on the landing when she finally dared to open the door, a cardboard box, its size a little larger than a shoe box, with an inscription written in an elegant cursive on the lid of the box: Letters to Emma from her father, 1989-2018.

Quickly, she grabbed the box, feeling its touch on the tips of her fingers as if it burned, and went to her bedroom, putting it in the most hidden corner of her closet, while her heart pounded in her chest, warm tears gliding again down her cheeks.

She did not feel strong enough to deal with the content of those letters. She wasn't even sure that she would ever be able to do it.

There was something she was sure of though. She needed Killian, she missed him terribly, and after his friend's confession, her willingness to listen to his own explanations had increased. But before, she needed to sleep, that rollercoaster of emotions that she was experiencing since last Monday was taking a toll on her, leaving her so exhausted that she felt like her brain was unable to properly process everything that was happening.

Killian Jones. Storybrooke - March 3, 2018

The nerves gripped Killian's stomach as he rubbed the palm of his hand on his pants to wipe the sweat. He was there, in front of Emma's apartment trying to gain enough confidence to knock on the door. David’s experience in this same place two days ago made him hesitant, despite how he longed to see her again and only this small barrier separated them physically.

David hadn't offered him any details of his unexpected visit to Emma's apartment, only that Emma hadn't opened the door to him even though he was certain that she had been home at that moment.

Killian had also learned for the first time the existence of the letters that David had written to Emma throughout her life. His heart ached for his friend. He could not even imagine the suffering he had carried all these years, so he hoped that those letters would have an effect on Emma, if only to give them the opportunity to explain themselves.

But he would have to leave those worries for another time. Right now, he had to carry out his own mission. His jaw clenched, a sharp intake of breath coming through his teeth before he finally decided to knock on the door.

To his surprise, Emma opened the door before he even had time to process it. Suddenly, he found himself face to face with her and all rational thought vanished from his mind, while his throat closed preventing him from making any sound.

"Hi." Her lips drew an awkward smile, but at least her expression was softer than the last time he had seen her. While she watched him, a thin crease appeared between her brows. "You look horrible."

"Hey." A sound that seemed like a croak escaped his lips. He cleared his throat, hoping to get his voice back as he reached out to scratch behind his ear. "I can't say the same about you, Swan. You look beautiful, as always."

He wasn't lying. Her hair was pulled back in a sloppy braid falling over her right shoulder, her face was fresh, no trace of makeup, and although he could detect a slight reddish hue around her eyes, the green of her gaze was as intense as ever. The soft pink blush that appeared on her cheeks after hearing his words only caused her natural beauty to increase.

His surprise grew when she, far from looking defensive or cautious, stepped aside while offering him a shy smile. "Come in."

The corners of his lips rose slightly in an attempt at a smile as he passed by her side and entered her apartment with somewhat hesitant steps. Emma's attitude had caught him completely off guard. Instead of her being belligerent or distant, he had met a cordial Emma who at least seemed willing to listen to him.

"Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Something stronger?" She asked as she made her way to the kitchen.

"A tea would be fine. Thank you, love." While waiting for Emma to return, Killian took off his jacket and placed it on the rack next to the door, then went to the couch where he sat on the edge of the seat, feeling the nerves gripping his stomach with even more pressure.

Emma returned a few minutes later, holding two steaming cups in her hands. She handed one of them to Killian before sitting on the other side of the couch, keeping a proper distance between them, but her torso turned slightly toward him as she held the cup of what he thought was hot chocolate with both hands.

An awkward silence fell over them while they pretended to be very busy with their respective drinks. A weird thought crossed his mind then, as he watched Emma hold the steaming cup in her hands. His gaze shifted to his prosthesis while he thought of the advantage of the absence of touch there. No matter how hot his cup was, he could always use his prosthesis to hold it, thus protecting his only hand from possible burns.

"Your friend David came here two days ago." Emma's voice broke the silence, freeing him from those weird thoughts.

"Aye, he told me." He nodded in a tentative motion, not quite sure that he liked the way their conversation had just started.

"Did he also tell you that he talked to me through the door? It was more like a monologue, as I guess you have already figured out." Emma's face remained impassive, though Killian detected a subtle hint of bitterness in her words. He suspected that the mention of David was intentional. Maybe it was her way of telling him that she knew some details in advance before he had to explain himself? And why wouldn't David have told him anything about that conversation — or rather monologue?

"No, I didn't know." He admitted. "He just told me that he gave you the letters he's been writing to you since you were born..."

"I don't want to talk about that right now." Emma cut him off abruptly. Killian was aware he had taken the wrong step when a stormy shadow crossed her gaze, darkening her features.

Again the silence fell over them, while they finished their drinks and left the empty cups on the coffee table. Emma pressed her lips together in a thin line as she rubbed her forehead with one hand. Then, she raised her gaze, looking for his. "What did you come for, Killian?" She asked through a whisper.

The moment of truth has come, Killian thought as he took a deep breath in an attempt to gain enough self-confidence to bare his soul once more in front of her.

"I didn't have the opportunity to explain myself the other day, you know... I've come to ask you to allow me to offer my explanation of everything that has happened. I only ask you to listen to me, Swan." Killian's eyes bored into hers, while he held his breath, waiting for her reaction.

Emma held his gaze for a few seconds, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks as she assessed his request. Killian detected an almost imperceptible nod of her head, as if she were trying to convince herself. After taking a deep breath, she finally agreed. "Okay, I'm listening."

That was the only sign Killian needed to finally open his heart and let go of all the worries that had plagued him in the last few months.

He told her about the first time he was aware that his friends had kept a secret from him from the beginning. The memory of that hungover morning after the anniversary of his brother's death and his confrontation with David still felt like a fresh wound.

Emma had been his confidant at that time, so nothing he was telling her was new to her. Still, she listened intently, her gaze never leaving his. She was also aware of the state in which he had found himself before knowing the truth, with that oppressive need to compensate his friends for everything they had done for him over the years, to feel useful in some way and not a total failure.

Before continuing, he swallowed hard in an attempt to drag down the lump that was forming in his throat. Then, he revealed to her how his friends had finally trusted him enough to share their secret with him. He saved for himself all the details of the unfortunate experiences of David and Mary Margaret as it was evident that Emma wasn't yet ready to face those revelations. Even so, he could detect a shadow of hurt crossing her gaze.

If he hadn't known the existence of that secret, it would have been unimaginable for him to think that his friends had gone through such a traumatic experience. They had always been his rock, his support. They had always offered him hope when he only saw a dark void in front of him.

"They only revealed your identity once they finished telling me their secret, when they explained to me the reasons why they needed my help."

Killian noticed how Emma shifted uncomfortably in her seat, while she averted her eyes. He would have given anything to find a way to spare her suffering, but sadly there was not, so he had no choice but to continue.

"It was a shock to me, Emma, since I had already begun to develop feelings for you and, what's worse, you even had dropped some glimpses of your past. It was hard to learn some of those details from them instead of from yourself. It was as if, with that revelation, they had taken part of our history together." Emma's features hardened, as her gaze met his again. She remained silent, though.

"Maybe you don't believe it, but I think I've never felt so pressured in my whole life with the feeling that, whatever I did, I was already condemned. From the moment I knew the truth, regardless of whether they had asked me for help or not, I was destined to fail, either to them or to you, as it ended up happening." The last words were accompanied by a bitterness that he could almost feel on the tip of his tongue. Although he had tried to stay calm throughout his confession, he was about to break, so he felt the need to pause to try to gather his thoughts and pull himself together.

Emma took that pause as an opportunity to intervene. "Do you realize that they took advantage of you? That they used the moment of vulnerability you were going through to ask you a favor that you weren't going to be able to refuse?" The way she addressed him, with a mixture of resentment towards his friends but also with a determination to protect him, did something with his insides, his mixed feelings colliding once more.

He let out a deep exhale. She was right, but it wasn't that simple. "Aye, but they were in a desperate situation."

Emma huffed, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. "Why? Why didn't they just tell me?"

She didn't wait for an answer. Now that she had finally decided to express herself, she continued speaking in a voice that, although controlled, showed glimpses of the endless feelings that she had been accumulating in recent days. "He, David, told me that they were afraid of my reaction given my past, that they didn't want to ruin what I had achieved here in Storybrooke, but what they got by acting that way is much worse."

"Emma..." He longed to reach her, to ease her pain somehow. He acted instinctively, reaching out and placing his hand over hers, the touch with her warm skin burning through his veins towards his heart. She didn't reject his touch, just stared at their joined hands until, with a move of her hand, she entwined her fingers with his.

Her gaze sought his again, the corners of her lips twitching into a tiny smile. That was all he needed to continue. "We made a terrible mistake, I'm aware, but I was the one who made the decision to help them, after all. They didn't force me." His voice trailed off for a moment, but he needed to bare his soul even more. "I can't even express in words how deeply sorry I am for all the suffering we've put you through." He was aware that he was wearing his heart on his sleeve, exposing himself to her with raw honesty.

"The day you introduced them to me... that was part of the plan, wasn't it?" She asked with a tiny voice.

He simply nodded, his lips pressed together as a new wave of shame swirled in his gut.

"The day of the snow was also a setup, and the party after..." She did not ask but confirmed to herself what she already suspected in advance. Although Emma squeezed her eyes shut stubbornly for a few seconds, she could not help a single tear sliding down her cheek.

He had never wanted anything so much in his entire life as he wished he had two hands at that precise moment, because he wasn't willing to let go of her hand, but the need to wipe away her tears was so compelling that he acted instinctively again, reaching out with his prosthesis and brushing the skin of her cheek with a light-feather touch. The way she leaned her head accepting his touch, caused his heart to swell with admiration towards her.

"Those were my only interventions. You got along with them right away. Everything else went smoothly." He admitted, while squeezing her hand lightly.

"And what about your sudden changes of attitude, like the day I confessed about Neal and Walsh?" There was no recrimination in her voice, he could only detect a hint of genuine curiosity, as if she needed to know and assimilate everything that had happened in the last few months.

He let out a humorless laugh. "It turns out that I'm a terrible actor and I couldn't pretend. Every time I looked you in the eyes and remembered the secret that I kept inside me, it was as if a force pulled me, almost leading me to confess." The memory of that day came to his mind in flashes. "And regarding that day, I felt terribly ashamed, a fraud. I was acting with you in the same way that those two guys did." He looked away, feeling a wave of revulsion creep up his throat.

"Killian..." This time it was she who squeezed his hand. "Killian, look at me." She urged in a soft but firm voice. Although hesitant, he agreed, trying to seek refuge in the intensity of her green eyes. "Don't you ever dare to compare yourself to those two assholes. You were always at my side, trying to protect me in some way, worried about my feelings. So no, it's not the same." Emma said with such determination that he had to invoke all his self-control to avoid pulling her towards him and kissing her senseless right there.

His mind then traveled to the crucial moment, the day when everything had ended up exploding. He felt the need to explain the reasons for his failed attempt to travel to London. "I wasn't leaving you, Swan." He assured. "But it was clear that I wasn't able to handle the situation and on my birthday when I saw you there, in my apartment, sharing a moment as a happy family... I simply couldn't resist it."

"Regina told me that you canceled the flights when I left for work."

"Aye. It was a stupid decision that was only going to cause more damage than had already been inflicted." He averted his eyes, unable to hold her gaze.

"Well, that stupid decision got us here, and although this week has been downright awful, look at me and you, finally having a sincere conversation."

"If you put it that way..." He admitted, casting a sidelong glance at her and catching a soft smile on her face.

They fell silent for the next few seconds, Killian gently stroking her hand while he kept lost in thought, wondering where this conversation left them from now on. Emma's firm voice brought him back to reality. "There can be no more lies or secrets between us if we want this to work, Killian. I mean it."

Killian's eyes snapped back to her face. "You do?" He mumbled, still in awe at the possibility that Emma could forgive him just like that.

"You don't?" She challenged, a special glint in her eyes.

"Aye, with all my heart, Emma." He assured as he finally released her hand and reached out to stroke her cheek, his heart hammering in his chest.

Both held their eyes for a few seconds, her bottom lip catching between her teeth, while she kept a thoughtful expression. "I..." She licked her lips as she lowered her head before continuing. "I also wanted to apologize for everything I told you the other day. I'm aware that my words might have hurt you."

"Emma... no." His hand traveled to her chin, his thumb brushing gently at her dimple as he pushed lightly to force her to lift her head. "You have nothing to apologize for. I deserved each and every one of the words that you addressed to me."

They rested their foreheads together while Killian closed his eyes and let himself be enveloped by the sensations, her warm breath caressing his face while her intoxicating scent penetrated his nostrils causing his head to spin. "Gods, Emma. I want to kiss you so desperately." He breathed out, unable to avoid a hint of urgency in his voice.

"There's nothing stopping you, Killian." She whispered, her lips only a few inches away from his.

Killian shortened the distance between them until their lips finally met and everything around them vanished. At the moment when the longed-for kiss began he was absolutely certain that, just as he had set himself as a New Year's resolution, he was never going to stop kissing this woman.

But now, without any secret lurking, without any lie between them that clouded his thoughts, the sensations were even more intense. Her lips seemed softer, her scent sweeter, her taste even more exquisite.

After that first soft and tentative kiss, he ran his tongue along her bottom lip to seek entrance. Her lips parted slightly offering him the invitation he needed. When their tongues began to dance together, he felt electric shocks of pleasure up his spine and down to his toes.

Feeling Emma's lips against his again was as if he had found an oasis in the middle of the desert. He devoured her mouth while she moaned against his own, angling her head to allow him deeper as he pushed himself against her.

They continued kissing, alternating languid kisses with others full of passion, for what seemed like hours. At some point, Emma ended up straddling his lap, her mouth sliding down his neck, her tongue leaving a wet trail in its wake as it traveled back up looking for his mouth.

He was so intoxicated by the sensations, lost in a sea of lust and bliss that he didn't even realize at the beginning that the sensual movements she had initiated had a clear purpose. Slowly, his mind cleared enough to break the kiss, and look for her gaze as he tried to catch his breath.

"Emma, love, what are we doing?" Killian asked, his voice raspy.

"What do you think we're doing, Killian?" She arched an eyebrow suggestively.

"But..." He was unable to prevent a groan from sliding between his lips, when the deliberate movements of her hips became more intense causing a delicious and at the same time tortuous friction against his arousal.

"Emma..." He tried again, his voice sounding still hoarse. "We... we just... we never... we just made peace." He trailed off in a breathy moan.

"Have you never heard of make up sex?" She asked before catching the lobe of his ear between her teeth, earning another groan on his part.

"But it would be our first time..." He alleged weakly. Something was definitely not working well in his brain.

"So..." She shrugged. "It will be a first time-make up sort of sex, then." Her brow furrowed slightly, as she searched his gaze. "You want this, don't you, Killian?"

He saw it clear then, the faint hint of vulnerability in her voice, her expression of ill-concealed frustration. He remembered all the times he had rejected her in a certain way during the last months. The mere thought of having his way with her when there was that secret beating between them was too repulsive. But now, there was nothing to prevent further progress in their relationship and yet he was still impeding her advances.

"Of course I do. I want it so badly that it hurts, literally." He directed a look full of intention to his crotch.

"So..."

Killian took a deep breath, locking her eyes with his, his hand tracing delicate patterns on the patch of skin exposed under the hem of her shirt.

"I wouldn't like this to be just a way to release the tension accumulated during this week. I don't want you to regret the next morning, darling."

"I won't." She stated categorically.

"You can't know that, love." He almost implored, desperate to do things right this time.

"Do you trust me, Killian?" He simply nodded. "I want to have sex with you and I promise I'll be here the next morning."

"Well, since we're in your own apartment..." Killian arched a brow playfully. The tension that he had felt, slowly fading away.

For all answer, she captured his lips again with hers as her hands began their exploratory path under his shirt. They continued kissing and caressing for a while until the pressure he felt was almost unbearable. He pushed himself up while holding Emma, who wrapped her legs around his waist.

"What are you doing?" She murmured against his lips.

"I don't want our first time-make up sort of sex to take place on a bloody couch." He growled as he started walking towards her bedroom. The giggle that escaped her lips sounded like music to his ears.

She did not make his way easy, causing him to almost stumble, too distracted by the sensations, her demanding mouth never leaving his, one hand gently pulling at his hair, while with the other one she clung to him for dear life.

Once in her bedroom, he forced himself not to be blinded by the passion of the moment and took things more calmly.

He had come to her apartment with the sole purpose of apologizing and being honest with Emma. Not even in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that the night would have ended just like that, with her vibrating in his arms in anticipation of what was about to happen. Despite the unexpectedness of the situation, that did not mean they could not make that first night together something special and unforgettable.

Killian lowered Emma until her feet touched the floor, both facing each other, their bodies only separated by a few inches. He allowed himself a few moments to observe her carefully, reveling in the effect their activities were having on her.

Her swollen and slightly parted lips were a perpetual invitation to be kissed. Some strands of her hair had escaped from her braid, framing her perfect face. Her cheeks were colored a soft pink halo, betraying her level of arousal. There was a fire in her gaze that made his blood run hot.

They began to undress each other in slow motion, without urgency, his gaze never leaving hers. A gasp escaped his lips when his eyes finally settled on her delectable, creamy skin, his fingers tingling, longing to brush against her perfect curves.

There was only a moment of hesitation when she laid her hand on his prosthesis, asking him, without needing to speak if he wanted to take it off. He shook his head slightly as his lips drawing a weak smile. He was not ready yet.

"I... I haven't remained celibate after losing my hand, but with all those one-night stands I never felt the desire to take off my prosthesis." He tried to explain himself.

"But I'm not one of your one-night stands..."

You're everything. The words died on the tip of his tongue before leaving his lips. Instead, he offered a soft smile. "Aye, I'm well aware of that, or at least I hope so. Let's say this is a promise of a future. The next time I won't need the prosthesis to be with you."

"Good." She nodded almost imperceptibly and continued with her task of undressing him.

"You're so beautiful, Emma." He rasped, while reaching out his hand to caress her exposed skin.

She closed her eyes at his touch, while she bit her lower lip in a failed attempt to suppress a moan. "You're not so bad yourself." She breathed out, opening her eyes again.

He couldn't resist it anymore. Cradling the back of her head with his hand, he settled the prosthesis at the small of her back, his lips finding hers again. He pushed her gently to the bed, getting her to lie on the sheets, his mouth never leaving hers as he covered her body with his.

"You can't imagine how much I've wanted to do this for the past few weeks. It's been torture, love. But I just couldn't, not like that." He mumbled before forcing himself to put his mouth to better use, traveling from her neck to her collarbone and back to her mouth, his tongue leaving a wet trail in its wake.

"I guess you had your punishment, cold showers, manual jobs and all that." Killian raised his head, his eyes searching for hers, finding a playful glint in her gaze as she bit her lower lip in that way that drove him crazy. He was amazed at the lightness with which she was taking everything that had happened to the point of even joking about the situation.

His skin hummed, feeling her body vibrating beneath his. He needed more, but before continuing, he needed to be sure that they were in this together.

"Tell me what you need, Emma."

"You. Only you."

"You have me." He assured, willing to demonstrate with his actions the devotion he felt for her, worshiping her body the way she deserved.

His mouth and hand began to explore her body in search of those places that would make her melt. The delicious sounds that escaped from her mouth and the way her body reacted to his touch caused his heart to flutter with satisfaction. He acted like a thirsty man who had just found a stream of crystal clear water. His thirst was only satiated at the moment in which she came undone by his ministrations.

He watched her features intently, her eyes still closed, her breathing shaken, a sated smile gracing her lips and causing his chest to swell with pride, as he wondered what he had done to deserve such a blessing in his life.

Waiting for her to come down from her high, he lay beside her, his fingers drawing delicate patterns on her bare stomach. He noticed she was catching her breath slowly until finally, she opened her eyes, a wicked grin adorning her lips. "I think it's my turn now." She muttered as her hand traveled south, until her fingers closed around him, causing a sharp intake of breath coming through his teeth.

She took the reins then, so he had no choice but to surrender to her, and follow her path.

After so many years of one-night stands, he wasn't used to that level of intimacy that could be overwhelming in some way. But he was completely consumed by her and by the power she had to make him shake only with the most subtle brush of her lips on his skin as the fire in her eyes made his blood run hot, his mind clouded by pure bliss and lust.

They ended up emulating the previous position on the couch, she straddling his lap while he rested his back on the headboard of the bed, their bodies almost fused with each other. If he was surprised by her choice of position, he didn't have time to express it out loud. The moment their bodies joined and began the first of — he hoped —many dances together, all rational thought left him. She had managed to bewitch him in such a way that he was now under her mercy. She was going to be the death of him - but what a sweet way to die it would be.

Emma Swan. Storybrooke - March 4, 2018

The first thing Emma noticed when she opened her eyes was the familiar feeling of an empty space beside her. Her brain still dragged the vestiges of the sleep, making her doubt if what had happened the night before had been nothing more than a sweet dream from which she had just awakened.

No, she still felt sore in the right places, noticing a slight burn on her skin while the sated sensation lingered in her system. Still, she couldn't help a wave of disappointment washed over her. She had imagined a warm body wrapping her when she woke up. Instead, she found the other side of the bed empty and cold under her touch.

"Good morning, love." Her body shuddered at the sound of Killian's voice coming from the other side of the bedroom. She remembered then that at some point in the night she had removed her contacts and now, when she rolled on her side, following the direction of the sound, she only found a blurred figure sitting in her armchair.

“See? I'm still here." She jocked, her voice slightly husky, as a reminder of her veiled promise from the night before. "Are you stalking me?" She added as she reached out a hand and fumbled blindly for her glasses on the bedside table.

He chuckled. It was a beautiful sound, something rare in the last weeks but that she hoped to hear very often from now on. "On the contrary, Swan. I was simply watching your sleep."

Much better, she thought as she put on her glasses, getting the vision she needed to see Killian in all his glory. She swallowed hard, the image of him sitting there wearing only his underpants and holding her camera causing a tug of desire settling into her gut.

"With my camera? That's sort of creepy." She teased, using a weird way to show her curiosity. In her defense, her brain wasn't functioning properly yet.

He rolled his eyes, smirking at her. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she observed his relaxed features, not a trace of tension in his body. He just seemed happy.

"I woke up early. I had never seen the sunrise from this corner of the town so, since I didn't bring my camera with me, I borrowed yours and took a few pictures from your window."

As he spoke, he got up, approaching the bed, still holding the camera in his hand. "And now I was just waiting for you to wake up and ask you to pose for me. The light is wonderful, here, Swan."

"Really? You want me to act as a model? Are you aware that I just woke up, I wear glasses and my hair is a mess?"

"Nonsense." Killian cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "That light has a fabulous effect on your skin and your eyes, and you always look beautiful, love."

She wasn't going to deny it, she had a weakness for the way he always praised her and for his passion for photography, causing her admiration for him to grow at times. After letting out an exaggerated sigh, she agreed, posing for him for the next few minutes, feeling like a model under the scrutiny of the camera.

"Are you happy now? Come back to bed, it's still early." She sued once the photo session ended.

“As you wish.” To her delight, he complied quickly, leaving the camera on the nightstand and crawling into bed, wrapping his arms around her.

The sensation of his body against hers brought to her memory their previous activities, causing a new wave of desire to take over her. She caught his mouth with hers and allowed herself to immerse in the incredible sensation of being kissed by such a skilled mouth. She could spend hours just like that, sharing languid kisses as Killian's arms cradled her.

"Any plan for today?" She managed to ask, her lips barely leaving his.

"In fact, I do." He admitted as he parted from her slightly, while scratching behind his ear, his cheeks flushed. "It's Sunday, remember?" The way he addressed her, in a soft voice and a tentative attitude, made her stomach tighten into knots. "I have lunch with... David and Mary Margaret."

"Oh." Suddenly, everything she had experienced throughout the week came to her memory, hitting her hard. She had managed to forget all those worries for a few hours of pure joy, but reality fell on her again.

"I can cancel it. They'll understand." Killian offered, clearly worried about her reaction.

"No." As much as everything about the Nolans still hurt, if she was willing to let her relationship with Killian prosper, and she really was, she must learn to accept the important role they played in her boyfriend's life. "I haven't yet forgiven them and I may never get to do it, but they're your friends, your family, Killian. I'll do my best to not interfere with your relationship with them."

Killian nodded and stared at her for a few seconds, that special glint in his eyes causing the butterflies in her stomach to flutter furiously. "We still have many hours ahead of us, Swan. What do you think if we make them worth it?" He offered, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Before she could answer, though, he added, "Just for the record. They may be my family, but you are, at least I hope you are, my future, Emma."

The emotion she felt at that moment was so intense that her throat closed, preventing her from forming any sound. Instead, she demonstrated how she felt with actions, pulling him towards her and capturing his lips, hoping to convey with that kiss how grateful she felt for that promise he just had offered, to which she was going to cling with all her strength.

TheLadySwan I know, I know. This is not a food photo account. But sometimes a plate of pancakes is much more than a simple food. Sometimes it means the beginning of a promising day, or a moment shared with that special person. Or sometimes it's just pancakes, a sweet and fluffy breakfast that will put a smile on your face :)

KJones This is a message from that special person (I hope), I'm looking forward to sharing more pancakes with you, in every way ;)

Thanks for reading. As you may have noticed, I'm not a smut writer, but I tried, sort of... Also, I just couldn't leave them separated for much longer. Let me know what did you all think :)

What to expect from the next chapter? If I'm not mistaken, I think the next chapter is the shortest in the whole story. We'll see how the relationship between Emma and Killian develops now that there is no longer any secret between them. Besides, will Emma be able to forgive The Nolans eventually?

#cs ff #cs au #csbb #captain swan #captain swan ff #pictures of reality #mayquita writes #my cs writings #csbb 2018 #cs au ff

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dear-dr-kenzo-tenma · 5 years

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Doctor Kenzo Tenma - TV Tropes

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Characters/Monster

An Aesop: In-universe, he gives some of these.

Action Survivor: Dr. Tenma is initially an average person, insofar as a well-known brain surgeon can be average. The series' circumstances force him to become a hardened survivor.

Adaptational Attractiveness: In the manga, he starts off plain and downright funny-looking. The anime takes its cue from the later chapters' more adorable Tenma◊.

Adorkable: Before his badass upgrade made him stop being a doormat.

Adrenaline Makeover: Ahem.◊

All-Loving Hero: This is both a large advantage and similarly a large disadvantage to him because of the complex location on the Sliding Scale of Idealism vs. Cynicism that Monster inhabits.

The Atoner: As kind-hearted as he is, he sees his absolute biggest mistake as being something he alone can fix. And despite numerous opportunities he gets where he could abandon his self-set mission, he refuses every time. Johan: (Seconds after killing Junkers in front of Tenma) I was supposed to die that night. You're the one who resurrected me, doctor.

Badass Pacifist: He can take a beating, jump off a bridge to avoid confrontation, and save people's lives while avoiding the police and criminals alike.

Beware the Nice Ones: Tenma is kind and righteous, but false accusations force him on a path to become much more assertive.

Barbarian Longhair: Subverted, he's not, by any definition, a barbarian. But by most persons in the series, his long hair is perceived as ugly.

Beard of Sorrow: He is normally beardless, but after he learns about Johan's true colors, he attempts to grow a beard and overly disregards his appearance.

Beware the Honest Ones: Tenma's idealism turned out pretty bad for his money-grubbing boss.

Big Good: This is particularly evident in arcs where he is offstage or not the main character. In keeping with his nearly messianic role, by the end, nearly all the characters would do anything to protect him.

Break the Cutie: By all accounts, he's sweet and adorable, but his entire life was ruined by the actions of a former patient.

Care-Bear Stare: He frequently does this, illustrating his initial idealism.

Celibate Hero: Post-Eva, although there is some subtext involving Nina that may avert this. In Another Monster, it is explained that he was still quite the celibate during his high school years and even purposely didn't get together with a girl who liked him (and the feeling was somewhat mutual) merely because he was friends with her (cheating) boyfriend.

Character Development: He begins as a well-respected, compassionate doctor. Over the series, he becomes more driven and relentless.

Cheaters Never Prosper: Averted, though not soon enough for poor Gillen's complex. He cheated on a test in medical school, which made him excel, and caused jealousy in one of his classmates. This acquaintance later becomes an important character.

Chronic Hero Syndrome: Despite his goal of hunting down Johan, he'll never turn down helping a stranger, even if the person's a criminal.

Clear My Name: Averted. His reason for hunting down Johan isn't to clear his name, but rather to correct the error he made in keeping Johan alive.

Combat Medic: "This is the carotid artery. Even a ballpoint pen could kill him, if you pierce it in the right spot."

The Drifter: Justified, since he was a murder suspect and has to be on the run from the police.

Expository Hairstyle Change: Starts off clean-cut, but gets progressively more disheveled.

Extreme Doormat: He used to be very submissive to his boss and his fiancee.

The Fettered: His beliefs frequently make him question his mission.

Forgets to Eat: Quite frequently. At other instances, he'll bemoan the lack of soy sauce in Western cuisine.

Friend to All Children: The good doctor loves children, and he is perfectly willing to help them. He even formed an Intergenerational Friendship with Dieter, a kid.

Friend to All Living Things: He saved a hurt bird in the time he was training as a gunmen. Later, when he was talking with a former friend to all living things, a finch landed in Tenma's arm.

Gentleman and a Scholar: He is a highly-accomplished brain surgeon and an incredibly caring and selfless man.

Good Is Not Dumb: Well, he's good, and intelligent. Heck, he's a brain surgeon. Beyond fitting the literal trope title, however, Roberto underestimates him at one point because of his goodness and pays for it by losing the use of his right arm.

Good Is Not Soft: While a genius neurosurgeon, he is nice, humble and compassionate. When Johan becomes a threat, he takes a level in badass and takes a journey to stop him. Also, he doesn't hesitate to threaten people with his pistol if their actions endanger one or more lifes.

Grew a Spine: He decides to stop being the doormat of his fiancee and his boss after seeing the immorality of both (the fiancee is not that evil, but this counts).

The Heart: Tenma is the moral center of a morally complex series.

The Hero: He is inarguably the protagonist, and he's very heroic, motivations and rumination aside.

Heroic Resolve: Kenzo has one in his battle against Roberto.

Hero with Bad Publicity: Wanted for the very murders that he keeps trying to stop.

Honor Before Reason: Though he cares about the "right thing" rather than any type of personal honor.

Hospital Hottie: He has a cute appearance, be well-groomed or not.

Humble Hero: He never takes credit for his good deeds and maintains that all people are equal despite conspicuously being better than everybody else in every imaginable way.

Hurting Hero: He's haunted by the actions of a former patient, who destroyed his life.

I Can't Dance: According to Eva, Tenma claimed to not be able to dance. They stood and held each other on the dance floor instead.

I Just Want to Have Friends: According to Eva in Another Monster, he was chronically lonely and thanks to his workaholic tendencies, he was unable to make friends other than Dr. Becker.

Intelligence Equals Isolation: His medical capabilities make him isolated among peers.

I'm Not Hungry: When he was captured by the police, he refused to eat for so long they had to put him on an IV. Which doubles as Fridge Brilliance, as he was trying to end up in the infirmary in order to get in touch with Gunther Milch.

Inconvenient Hippocratic Oath. All the more so (or not) for being an integral part of what he comes to be about after the first episode.

Incorruptible Pure Pureness: One of the rare examples of this trope being pulled off successfully. No matter how complicated things get, he retains his idealistic views on humanity.

Just in Time: He saves Reichwein, who came VERY close to being killed by Roberto, just in time in episode 30.

The Last DJ: Both played straight and averted, in short succession. His integrity makes him lose his job.

Last-Name Basis: People tend to call him by his last name rather than his first name, even when they've got to know him well—including Nina and Eva (though the latter is the one that does it least).

Looks Like Jesus: His long hair and stubble look make him somewhat similar to Jesus.

Magnetic Hero: He's kind, charming, and persuasive.

Manly Tears: He does cry, but it doesn't make him appear weak; it showcases just how horrible his life gets, in spite of how much he tries.

Married to the Job: Noted constantly, one of his fellow physicians tried to hook him up with other loves, but he was more focused on his job.

Messianic Archetype: To counter Johan's Antichrist

Nice Guy: He's very nice and will help even his enemies. This is both a blessing and a curse, considering how dark the series is. It gets him a lot of friends, but it also gets him into difficult situations.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished: He helped Johan, and then he's framed for murder. Johan: I was supposed to die that night. You're the one who resurrected me, Doctor.

Parental Favoritism: It's mentioned in Another Monster that his father favored him, his youngest son, over his other brothers. However, his mother favored his two older half-brothers (who are unrelated to her) more than him.

Perma-Stubble: He grows one during his Expository Hairstyle Change.

Save the Villain: At first unknowingly, in the case of saving the young Johan from his asked-for bullet wound to the head. By the end, [spoilers] he does it again, this time intentionally, to defy Johan's point.

Screw the Rules, I'm Doing What's Right!: Thoroughly believes this, when he decides to operate on Johan's brain-bullet and disobey the director's orders to ignore the kid and work on the mayor's cerebral-thrombosis. He starts doubting himself, when he sees what Johan has become.

Skilled, but Naïve: Tenma's a surgical prodigy, but it's not his relative inexperience with a scalpel that gets him into trouble in the beginning. It's his inexperience with another aspect of being a doctor: hospital politics.

The So-Called Coward: "Tenma the Weenie! Tenma the Weenie! He peed his pants, too!" Even more so considering the full story given in Another Monster. After the first time the other boys scared him during hide-and-seek, Tenma decided to go through it again in order to conquer his fear. What ended up happening was that they couldn't find him and thought that he just went home, so when one of the mothers told them it was time to go home, they left Tenma by himself. When they found him still hiding in the abandoned yard at night, they probably stopped picking on him simply because he had the guts to do all that.

Technical Pacifist: Although he has no problem pushing, kicking, shoving, and threatening with violence, he has a hard time causing harm to others even if it is to defend his own life.

Think Nothing of It: Does not like to take credit for his achievements, e.g. denying that he'd saved the Turkish district.

Thou Shalt Not Kill: A personal philosophy that looks especially interesting when pitted against his initial tantrums of, "These people need to die."

Took a Level in Badass: Early in the series, after receiving weapons training from an ex-mercenary.

Trademark Favorite Food: Heckel notes that Tenma thinks that any recipe can be improved with soy sauce. And if the fandom on Tumblr has anything to say about it, sandwiches.

Turn the Other Cheek: Constantly, over and over again. He does this to his fellow doctors, as well as his enemies.

Übermensch: By the end of the series, although he starts out as a very clear-cut Last Man. His personal beliefs evolve over the course of the series. He becomes less conflicted, and more willing to do what's necessary.

Unkempt Beauty: He looks like a hobo and still looks very well. Even most fans think he looks better with the hobo look.

Unwitting Pawn: Used, reused, and subverted. A lot of his actions, even his goal are propelled and encouraged by Johan.

White and Grey Morality: How he sees the world.

Wide-Eyed Idealist: Determinedly and stubbornly so. Tenma is convinced that all life is equal, and that everyone can be saved. His beliefs put him at odds with nearly everyone, as he's one of the few idealists in the series.

Wrongly Accused: The whole plot is to save Johan who framed him in the first place, though he's more concerned about saving him and less concerned about being proven innocent.

source: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Characters/Monster

#just for fun #and reference #Kenzo Tenma #Naoki Urasawa's Monster #Dr. Kenzo Tenma #Dr. Tenma #Monster tv tropes #Dr. Tenma tv tropes #analysis #op

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