entitled; a kiss with a fist
summary; She'd be lying if she said she hadn't been momentarily contemplating the cheesy movie-type kiss after those words left his lips; her gaze had fallen to his lips for that brief moment before she snapped herself out of it and brought her knee up to his most sensitive spot just as she slammed her free hand down on his chest and shoved.
rating; t
disclaimer; i own this lovely empty bottle next to me, and nothing more.
notes; do not write when you're drunk... you will write shitty fanfiction... and DIE.
a kiss with a fist
.
There was that initial wave of shock coursing through her veins like wildfire when she first laid eyes on him. Questions - so manyquestions - flooded her mind so quickly she was sure she would have stumbled had she not been clutching the railing of the front steps to the Sheriff's office so tightly. "You..."
The cold, bitter smile that made its way onto his lips sent shivers - and not the good kind - running up her spine. "Aye, Sheriff." he muttered, holding his arms out as he gave her an exaggerated bow.
Emma winced; if there was any indicator that he was upset, it was his lack of use of any of his pet names for her. On any normal day, they would have annoyed the shit out of her, but at this moment, she kind of wished he'd spew one out. "Hook..."
"Don't." He hissed, the facade quickly slipping and the grin slipping from his lips, "I don't need anything from you." He slowly started backing away, his icy blue eyes giving away the pain Emma really hadn't expected to see. "I'm done with you. Keep a better eye on your lad next time."
Emma bristled at that, all shock forgotten as she slammed both palms on his chest and shoved him back, "Don't you dare tell me how to look after my own son. Not when you tried to skewer me for putting him before you on top of that damn beanstalk."
His nostrils flared, but he didn't make a single move against her, even though she very well knew he could if he really wanted to. "Turn around and walk away. Don't start things you aren't going to finish."
"Start what!?" she shrieked, paying no mind to the soft drizzle that had started. "You're the one acting like-"
His brilliantly blue eyes grew gray - a gray the likes of an oncoming storm - and his fingers wrapped around her wrist as he pressed her back into the hard wall of the Sheriff's station, "Acting like what, Emma? Please do enlighten me."
Emma glared up and him and banged her other fist down on his chest, gritting her teeth as she carefully worded her response, "Like I owed you anything. You were two-timing both Cora and us from the get go. You didn't give two shits about either side as long as you got to Storybrooke to get your fucking revenge on Rumpelstiltskin. Nothing else mattered to you, nothing! So stop acting like me stopping you, like me refusing to acknowledge you after you kept on your little vengeance mission was some kind of betrayal because I didn't owe you anything!"
But she did. She knew she did. Because he could have killed her. He could have killed Snow. He could have gone straight for Henry the minute he arrived in Storybrooke to get back at her. Instead he was here, standing in front of her after safely delivering her son to her, having pried him from Cora's clutches and attempts to get back at Regina through him.
"You don't owe me anything?" His voice had gone deathly quiet, and he was leaning in so close Emma couldn't even bring herself to put her other fist to his face, "Without me, you would have known nothing about the sodding compass and Cora would have been here long before you even figured out what she was planning to do. Whether I had vengeance in mind, I was helping you. I choseyou!"
Something in his voice made Emma's eyes widened; the conversation was suddenly headed in a direction she was not at all ready to go towards. Unfortunately, "Shut up," was the only thing that flew from her lips as she started to squirm under his hold again. "Shut up, shut up!"
He took a step back, but held her wrist firmly in his hand as his hooked hand slammed down on the wall right next to her head. "Make me." He hissed, stormy blue eyes still narrowed quite dangerously.
She'd be lying if she said she hadn't been momentarily contemplating the cheesy movie-type kiss after those words left his lips; her gaze had fallen to his lips for that brief moment before she snapped herself out of it and brought her knee up to his most sensitive spot just as she slammed her free hand down on his chest and shoved. It wasn't her best move, but it was relatively effective considering he did fall to his knees for a moment, giving Emma the chance to take off in the rain that was quickly moving from a drizzle to a full out downpour.
"SWAN!"
There was that stupid shiver again; it was the bad kind. The terrified kind. Not the 'I'm enjoying this' kind, or even the 'I'm cold' kind. But it also wasn't exactly the 'I'm scared for my life' kind. Which, if Emma was thinking logically, it should have been.
But of course it was those rather distracting thoughts that kept her from getting as far away from the fucking pirate as she could get, because the next thing she knew, he had his fingers wrapped around her arm, turning her and yanking her towards him.
"LET ME GO!" she shrieked, kicking and screaming, and slamming her fists against his chest repeatedly, "Damn you! I said let me go! I hate you! I fucking hateyou!"
It was all so trivial and childish that Emma couldn't even recognize herself; when did she ever throw these tantrums? When did she ever do less than putting a man firmly in his place for trying anything with her? Never. Yet here was this stupid, annoying, piece of shit pirate making things so fucking wrongin her life from the moment she first laid eyes on him.
She should have left him to the ogres.
"No, you don't." he growled at her, making her squirm even more, but he had her in a vice like grip. "You want to, you know that you should, but you will neverhate me, Emma."
Emma's head jerked up, bright eyes growing dark as she opened her mouth to tell him wrong but she never got the chance. Because at that moment, in the middle of the fucking street in the pouring rain, the man called Killian Jones kissed her.
Eyes wide and blood boiling, Emma shoved him back and socked him square in the jaw.
He let her go, staggering back and cursing under his breath as he reached up to rub at the sore spot. While Emma wanted to say so much to him at that moment though, nothing came out. She was frozen, eyes glued onto his form and when he finally looked back at her, he gave her that stupid smirk and muttered, "Can't say I wasn't expecting that."
That did it.
Not quite thinking, Emma reached out and grabbed onto the lapels of his coat, yanking him towards her as she slammed her lips against his. It was painful and uncomfortable at first - Emma'd surprised him, no doubt - but he was quick to respond and Emma was positive that his lips moving against hers was the most natural thing in the whole world.
[end.]
