Summary: AU College student Killian Jones finds out an amusing secret about his girlfriend Emma. It involves something called fanfiction?
"Swan! Swan, open this door!" Killian's voice boomed.
Emma sighed, her fingers ceasing their movements. She had told him she was busy. She slammed the laptop shut in frustration, stalking towards the door. Honestly, it was bad enough her roommate Snow was usually always around- she was kind of clingy- and this was probably the one afternoon she would have alone in her room and her stupid boyfriend couldn't leave her alone for a few hours.
She secretly loved him, though.
"What, Jones?" Emma said harshly, angling herself between the door and her room. There was no way he was getting inside. If he got inside he'd never leave. He'd eat her pretzels, incessantly play with her hair, kiss her neck while she swatted him away, and then get his (adorable) scent all over her bed (not that she minded). But she couldn't afford any distractions right now.
Killian smiled brightly at her. Normally it would have made her crack, but not today. She was determined.
"Oh, no, no, no." Emma said sternly, telling herself she meant it. There were several students in the hallway, glancing at them in curiosity. Killian had been out in the hall for at least ten minutes, causing a ruckus the whole time trying to barge his way in. He seemed to have attracted an audience.
"I said no," Emma kept going, tightening her grip on the door.
Killian pouted, "I haven't seen you in forever."
"We had breakfast together," she said pointedly.
"That was-" he paused, counting on his fingers. "Six and a half hours ago! It's practically forever."
"That is the complete opposite of forever!" Emma shouted, though she was smiling. It was impossible with him. She quickly remembered she was supposed to be firm and squeezed her lips together to contain the smile.
They had been together for seven months and most of their conversations went like this. Sometimes she argued with him when he carried all of her books, plus his, but Killian would simply roll his eyes at her and whistle, while she launched into a long speech about feminism and her own personal strength. When she was done, he'd glance over at her and say, "Just let me do something nice for you, love,"
That always shut her up.
Because he said it so plainly. So honestly.
But now was not the time to fall for any of his moves, and he had a lot of them. He had the whole school in love with practically. She had always thought that college would was supposed to be different, that there was no popular boy that all the girls wanted to be with. But Killian Jones was that man. And somehow they had ended up in the same Classic Fairy Tales Reconsidered class at the start of the fall semester. Emma had taken the class to get her advanced English credit, while Killian seemed to have taken the class because he wanted to.
He was one of the only guys in the class.
He didn't care.
He had slid into the seat next to Emma three minutes before class was due to start, and when it was announced they needed a reading partner, he turned to her before their professor had finished speaking. She had shrugged. And then seven months later there they were.
"Just let me in," Killian laughed, reaching out and touching her cheek softly.
She should have pulled away. Because the moment he touched her she was putty in his stupid hands. It was like when they studying for their first exam, a month into the semester. They were in the library and Killian had been flirting with her nonstop for weeks. Emma had tried to play it cool, act like she was mildly interested. Some of the buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned and she could see a sliver of his chest, dark hair that seemed more inviting than it should have. When he'd casually leaned over and brushed some of her hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear, she had launched herself at him.
That was how they had gotten banned from the library.
So now they either had to study outside or in one of their rooms. Killian always pushed for the room option.
They didn't study much.
And there he was now, after she explicitly told him she needed to be alone all afternoon so she could write something important. And his hand was warm. It was soft. You'd think after seven months the spell would have worn off, but for Emma it seemed to get stronger every day. Every hour, actually.
He was still wearing the same clothes he'd been in that morning over breakfast, except now he had a school sweatshirt. She sighed, leaning into his hand and Killian smirked victoriously.
Relenting, she leaned back, pushing the door open. Killian whooped (adorably. Honestly he sounded like a toddler) and floated into the room. He was kicking his shoes off in seconds, his schoolbag on the floor. In seconds he was lying face down on her bed, his nose smelling her pillow.
"Smells like you," he said, smiling at her.
She rolled her eyes at his antics. He wanted a reaction from her. He always wanted a reaction from her. It was like he was in middle school, not his second year of college, and wanted to rile her up. "It smells like you," she told him, going back to the desk.
The dorm room was so small that when she sat at her desk and Killian occupied her bed, there was only two feet between them. He looked at her and smiled, "It smells like us."
She crinkled her nose, pulling her legs up to her chest as she opened the laptop. "Gross?"
"Of course not," chided Killian, indignantly. As if to prove his point, he buried his head in the pillow, making Emma shake her head. How had she gotten stuck with this idiot?
Not that it bothered her in the slightest. She went back to typing, trying her best to tune him out. Opening up her iTunes, she played a song, hoping it would get her back into her story. She was tired of getting frantic messages from strangers shouting at her in caps lock: HURRY UP AND UPDATE! WRITE FASTER! I'M GOING TO STOP READING! I NEED MORE!
"Why don't you play Pearl Jam?" suggest Killian, unhelpfully.
"Because they suck," she said, not raising her eyes.
Killian gasped dramatically. You'd think she'd just broken up with him. "Take it back,"
"You sound like a five year old."
"Swan, you know that isn't true! You like 'Better Man.'"
"Yeah, because you wouldn't leave me alone until Iliked one song. All the rest are crap." She typed methodically, the words appearing on the screen in front of her. This part of writing always thrilled her. Creating something out of nothing, making it appear.
"I think we have irreconcilable differences, Swan."
She bit her lip to keep from grinning. "Really, Jones?"
"It pains me to say this, Emma,"
"Oooh, her first name basis now?" She giggled, hearing her bed creak. Suddenly he was right behind her, which only took one step since the dorm room was the epitome of tiny. He easily slid himself into the chair behind her, wrapping his arms tight around her waist.
Everywhere he touched her blazed to life as he pulled her back flush against him. His chin was on her shoulder, his stubble tickling her. And then his lips were on her neck, soft and wet and amazing.
"I'm trying to write, mister," she said, seeing their reflection in the screen. She kept typing. She couldn't stop now. She'd already written two thousand words and knew exactly where this chapter was going.
"You're always trying to write," Killian said into her ear. Then he stopped and Emma realized what was about to happen. She tried to close the laptop, but Killian was too fast. She squeezed her eyes shut.
He was reading it.
She felt her face turning red. She never blushed. She hated it. She hated the mere word. Blush, what a stupid, ugly word. A vulnerable word.
"Are you... is that... Jamie Lannister? He's from Game of Thrones." Killian asked her, gently grasping her hips. She stayed silent, wishing she could disappear. "Hey," he said softly, but she could hear the amusement in his voice. He shook her hips. "Emma?"
And he was calling her Emma? It was like he was trying to kill her.
"Emma" always felt too intimate. Too close. And she never really minded, but to use it now when he was uncovering another part of her freaked her out.
"He's from A Song of Ice and Fire," Emma huffed. "Some of us read."
"I read plenty," Killian said, his eyes staring at the screen. They were moving rapidly, reading everything. "Is he with Brienne? Wait... is this... what's that word... fanfiction?"
Emma muttered something.
Killian was smiling brightly now and he swiveled her hips in his excitement. "Emma, I can't hear you, love."
"Emma" AND "love" in the same sentence? He was trying to do her in.
"Yes," she said, only slightly louder.
"No way! This is what you're always writing? Are there dirty scenes-" He reached for the mousepad, but Emma quickly swatted his hand away.
"Stop it!"
"There are!" Killian grinned triumphantly. "I want to see!" But he didn't lunge for the mouse again, he just held her tighter. "This is kinda hot."
"Oh my God, shut up," Emma moaned, mortified. Her face was still flaming red, she could feel the heat. She was surprised there wasn't smoke rising from her.
Killian didn't seem to get that he should stop smiling. "Will you let me read it?"
"No!" she cried, wishing he would stop holding her.
(She really wasn't wishing that.)
"Why not?" he pouted, one hand letting go of her waist. It cupped her chin, turning her to face him. His eyes were so blue, they pulled her in. She could see herself reflected in them. He held on tightly, keeping her attention on him. "Don't you love me, Swan?"
She rolled her eyes. "Of course I do, you big moron."
He was still smiling. "So I want to read it."
"Tough luck,"
"Emma," Killian said, like he was teaching her an important lesson. "When you love someone, you must put their needs above yours."
She laughed loudly. "I don't think so, buddy."
He pouted, "Why not? I'm sure it's amazing. And kinky. But amazing."
She blushed again. He smirked, kissing her cheek sloppily. She pulled away playfully, laughing as he squeezed her again.
There was no way that he was going to let this go until he read it, she knew. He would concoct schemes, try to steal her laptop, try to bribe her all until he was able to read what she had written. He might even try to goad Snow into helping him on his crazy mission.
Regina, Snow's best friend, would probably help him. She hated Emma.
"Emma, my beautiful, sexy, nerd girlfriend-"
"Save it. Flattery will get you no where, Jones." Emma grinned.
Killian smirked. "I have other ways."
The smirk scared her and before she could contest, he was tickling her. She squirmed. She laughed. She shrieked. In seconds he was lifting her off the chair and they were falling onto her bed. Killian had a leg on either side of her as he assaulted her stomach, a smile as bright as the moon on his face.
He would read that damn story, if it was the last thing he did.