I originally posted this on tumblr a few days ago and since then I've had several requests that it be posted here as well! :)
I wanted to write Emma and Hook's angry and angst-filled first kiss and I came up with this. Takes place in Neverland some time after they have arrived, well into their search for Henry. ENJOY!
Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT
Review please!
Thunder rumbled in the distance, the air hung heavy with the threat of rain—the atmosphere was humid, the tension thick.
"We're lost!"
The venom in Emma's tone was unmistakable as she spat the words, narrowing her eyes darkly as Hook spun on his heel, turning towards her with an infuriating expression of condescension flashing across his features.
"Well aren't you the quick one princess."
"We're lost and separated from the group because of you!" She could clearly hear the anger wavering in her voice, her tone dripping with blame.
They had been trekking through the jungles of Neverland for hours, the lead they had received from the mermaids a few short days ago had gone cold—the trail of the lost ones they'd been tracking vanishing. She was tired, sore, and irritable…she just wanted nothing more than to find her son and get the hell out of the godforsaken enchanted place. But seeing as though her current guide looked as if he couldn't exactly ascertain which way was north and which was south, what was left and what was right, she had the nagging feeling that their nearly impossible task had just become that much more difficult.
"And how, pray tell princess, is our current predicament my fault?"
"Will you quit calling me that!" her voice rose heatedly with the nearly shouted request, her eyes continuing to stare daggers into the pirate who stood before her. His body was tense, a dark brow raised high on his forehead—the look on his face would have appeared bored and nonchalant were it not for the rage of emotions swirling in the deep blue of his nearly flashing gaze.
"Princess? Well that's what you are sweetheart now isn't it?" he took a step towards her, a knowing smirk crossing his features as she scowled at his inquiry.
"God will you just stop…just…" she trailed off, shaking her head as the chirping and cricketing noises that surrounded them drifted to her ears, her eyes darting around uncomfortably as she realized that she was once again completely out of her element—the feeling all too familiar since they had arrived in the dark place.
"If I recall correctly you chose to follow me."
Bringing her gaze back to meet his, her frown deepened, "I thought you knew where you were going." she muttered softly, knowing the explanation sounded somewhat forced and undoubtedly lame.
After traveling across the rough terrain, exhausted and weary, the group had stopped in a clearing, intent on resting for a bit—the need for food and water too great for them to continue any further. And as they had indulged in the plentiful fruit Hook had gathered, he had mentioned something about scouting ahead, muttering about how much Neverland had changed since his last visit, a look in his eyes revealing that perhaps he wasn't as confident with his knowledge of the place as he had originally led everyone to believe. And unable to sit around any longer, despite her parents vehement protests, she had followed him—the urge to keep moving flowing hot in her veins.
It wasn't long before something had changed within the trees, the area around them shifting slightly.
It was like the jungle had repositioned itself, nearly swallowing them whole.
When he had turned to her, with a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes, she had known they were in trouble.
Lost.
"If you had just bloody stayed with everyone else—"
"Then what?!" she yelled at him stepping closer, pushing away the sinking feeling in her gut as she thought of him lost and alone, trapped in the shadows of the trees. "Then what…you'd be by yourself in this hellhole!"
"And why would care? Why does it matter?" he shouted back, his cool composure gone—following her lead, he took a step towards her.
She opened her mouth, the words stuck in her throat as she sputtered uncomfortably.
Why did it matter?
Why did she care?
She wanted to shout something about how it mattered because they needed him to be their guide; they needed his help in order to find Henry…
But it was a small voice, whispering in the back of her head that had her pausing. One that had her thinking about how she hand unknowingly been looking to him for guidance and strength since they had arrived in Neverland. One that had her unwillingly admitting to something she'd been trying to deny since what seemed like forever.
She needed him.
"Dammit Hook because…because…"
It was a low deep growl just over her shoulder that had her stopping abruptly, her eyes widening big and round and her mouth dropping open slightly as the sound resonated between them. Staring up at him, she watched as a flash of fear sparked in his eyes before, in a move so quick and fast she could barely keep up with his actions, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her forward, pushing her behind him as he unsheathed his sword.
Everything after that was a bit of a blur.
She saw a flash of black fur and gleaming sharp teeth. The sound of a low snarl followed by a menacing roar had her throat closing in on her as fear prickled hotly up her spine.
She had never seen anything like the large dark beast that was hunched before them; its muscular back legs crouched down as it stared at them with nearly glowing yellow eyes, waiting for the right moment to pounce.
"Hook…" she whispered softly, stepping towards him slowly, her gaze never leaving the creature as her hand went to the dagger at her belt.
"Stay back. You make one more move Swan…and I swear to the gods I will bloody throttle you." He never took his eyes off the beast. His voice hushed, barely above a whisper, carried unmasked authority—the tiny sliver of fear laced within it causing her stomach to churn with terror.
Emma swallowed thickly, tried to even her unsteady breathing, her fast beating heart. But it was all for naught, because within the next moment he was pushing her away from him again and charging at the growling beast with a speed so surprising that she was left doing nothing but gasping in shock.
As the animal lunged towards him, she didn't realize that the piercing scream that rang throughout the trees was her own. Her legs firmly rooted into place, she watched through a thick haze as beast and man collided—the sound of a rough yelp and a shout of pain ringing in her ears as they fell to the ground in a heap of limbs and fur.
Shaking herself out of her shock, she moved towards him fast—her dagger drawn, her heart in her throat.
Rolling away from the creature, Hook stumbled to his feet. His sword bloodied, his breathing heavy; he frowned deeply as she came to a halt beside him. And when he shook his head, the movement quick and irritable, she scowled back at him, noticing when his eyes flashed with anger and a glimmer of something else she couldn't quite place.
"Bloody hell! I said stay back!" And spinning towards her, he managed to somehow grab her dagger roughly with the hand that also held his sword, before pushing her to the ground hard—the air whooshing out of her fast as she made contact with the unforgiving forest floor.
Dimly through the ringing in her ears, she heard brutal and horrifying sounds behind her—grunts and growls, muttered curses and animalistic yelps.
Hook.
Swearing softly at him under her breath, she pushed herself up, searching for something, anything to attack with—the urge, the need, to help him coursing through her strong. And as she spun around, intent on using her own two hands if necessary, she let out a terrified gasp as she faced the scene before her—her eyes widening as a scream lodged itself in her throat when she saw the injured beast, only a handful of feet away from her, focus in on her before rushing towards her fast.
Defenseless and frozen, she closed her eyes, waiting for the impending attack—thoughts of Henry, her parents, Storybooke…Hook…flashing before her closed eyelids in a fast array of taunting scenes and cruel images.
But she felt nothing; the sharp painful digging of teeth she had anticipated never came.
An agonizing howl, a smattering of something wet and hot splashing across her shirt, the rumble of thunder above her, the sound of heavy breathing and a violent curse next to her, invaded her senses instead.
For a moment she remained unmoving, her body stiff, her mind racing with too many incoherent thoughts for her to truly think properly.
But somehow, as silence slowly enveloped her, she knew she was safe.
"Emma."
She shook her head once as he spoke her name softly, unable to function, still needing a moment as what had happened, what had almost happened, punishingly bombarded her brain.
"Emma…"
His voice was raspy, tinged with pain and the slightest hint of desperation and unable to avoid him any longer she took in a deep breath and opened her eyes.
Glancing down she saw a bright red stain splashed across the front of her blouse, the damp sticky feeling nearly causing her to gag as the wetness seeped into her overheated skin. And allowing her gaze to slowly flit to the ground, she winced as she saw the beast laying in a heap in front of her, a deep wound slicing across its middle, her dagger stuck between its eyes.
"Are you alright lass?"
Bringing her attention to him she blinked once, her eyes opening and closing rapidly, before, almost as if through a thick fog, she walked over to him slowly—her legs heavy and weak. Still unable to speak, her heart still pounding rapidly, her pulse still racing harshly, Emma stopped in front of him, ignoring the sudden light drizzle of rain that had begun to softly fall from the sky—a small part of her welcoming the feeling, needing something to wash away the blood that marred her skin and the fear that still lingered heavily upon her.
Her eyes roaming and somewhat unfocused, she took in the sight of him—his good hand was gripping his sword, the tip dripping with dark blood—the same blood that was splashed across her shirt. Her hands coming up of their own accord, without thinking, she placed them gingerly on his chest, noting the way he tensed immediately with the gentle contact. Slowly, she began to check him for injuries. Running her fingers across him delicately, she made a mental note when he winced or hissed in a sharp and shuddering breath—a broken curse of pain falling from his lips.
Her mind was turning; a nearly frantic voice was asking her what she was doing, why she had her hands on him. Red warning flags danced in front of her eyes.
But she disregarded them easily.
She needed to make sure he was okay.
"Emma?"
"Are you hurt?" her voice came out husky, the tone raw and urgent.
"I'm fine."
Moving her fingers down to the bleeding gash on his arm, her lips nearly quivered as she took in the sight of the torn skin. And silently, almost angrily, she chastised herself; blood was never something that had made her queasy before.
"You're bleeding."
"Aye…tis' nothing but a scratch darling."
And it was with the endearment, the gentle amusement in his tone, that suddenly something inside of her snapped and clicked into place—the haze lifting from her swiftly.
The idiot had nearly gotten himself killed.
The bastard had almost left her.
"You stupid son of a bitch." She murmured softly, realization lighting inside of her as she stepped back from him quickly.
His brow furrowed in confusion, slight disbelief crossed his features as she shot her gaze up to his, narrowing her eyes.
"You stupid, stupid, son of a bitch." Her voice rose with the words and she took a step backwards again only to stop and take two more steps forward. Placing her hands on his chest she pushed him hard, feeling the tiniest hint of satisfaction rush through her fast as he winced with the contact.
"Bloody hell Swan!"
Noting how the rain had begun to fall harder, soaking her clothes and cooling her skin, she swatted a wet strand of hair out of her eyes as she moved towards him once again. "You careless, thoughtless, idiot!"
He raised a brow at her, his face schooling into a look of bored impassiveness even as his eyes flashed threateningly. "Is that the thanks I get for saving your life princess?"
"Shut up!" she screamed it at him, her fear spiking through in her tone, surprise at her fast change in demeanor sweeping within her as she went at him again. Pushing him hard, she watched as he stumbled backwards, a livid curse escaping his lips as he straightened—his good hand dropping his sword before clenching tightly at his side.
"Is this how you show your gratitude Swan?" A cruel smirk lifted his lips, "then again I suppose perhaps I should be grateful you didn't try to feed me to the blasted beast yourself." he stepped towards her, glowering at her menacingly; both annoyance and confusion clear in his tone.
"Shut up!" she shouted again, the demand coming out as an almost shrilling shriek.
And before she could stop herself, she raised a hand, intent on hitting him again, needing an outlet for her frustration, for her anger as fear continued to hammer throughout her—unwanted thoughts of losing him, of seeing him ripped to pieces in front of her, swimming darkly in her head. But he caught her clenched fist easily, yanking her forward so she nearly fell against him—her emotions had made her reactions sloppy, her movements slow. As their slick and wet bodies collided together, she shivered violently, trying to tell herself it was the cool rain that had the shudder rippling through her fast.
"What the devil are you playing at?
"That thing was twice your size!" she tried to tear her hand from his grasp but he had her in a harsh and punishing grip.
"Quite right! And I stopped the sodding beast from shredding you to bits and—"
"And almost got yourself killed in the process!"
The last word came out as a muffled sob, and at the sound, her eyes widened fractionally before flying to his—dimly she registered the feeling of him tensing stiffly against her.
For a moment neither or them did or said anything. Their eyes held each other—sky clashing with sea—something electric and jarring humming between them as the rain fell heavily around them.
She wasn't sure who moved first but suddenly her lips were crashing against his and they were coming together fast in a desperate and angst-filled need—the deep rooted hunger of their movements more than a little shocking. Had she not been so intent on throwing herself into the moment, the feelings warring within her would have unnerved her completely, sending her running for the hills without turning back. But unwilling to deny herself any longer, greedily she drank him in, anger, pain, want, and passion nearly boiling over in a violent clashing of lips, teeth, and tongue as the promise of something else—something so terrifying she frantically tried to push it away—simmered between them.
Vaguely she felt his arm wrap around her waist, hoisting her up and pulling her hard against his unyielding body, drawing her, if possible, even closer as they continued to give themselves over to the kiss. Their tongues battling with each other for dominance, they both refused to give the other the upper hand, neither backing down, both demanding the other yield first. Needing to feel more of him, she snaked her hand up the back of his neck, and clasping his head, she threaded her fingers through his wet hair as she pushed herself into him, nipping lightly at his lips with the action.
More.
She wanted more.
Her free hand resting on his shoulder, she dug it into the fabric of his shirt, and unable to stop her hips from rocking gently into his, her mouth tilted upwards slightly as a low warning growl slipped past his lips. And with the sound, he deepened the kiss, taking her by surprise as his tongue stroked and swept the contours of her mouth, ruthlessly demanding she keep up with the newly set pace of his sensual and dizzying assault.
And it was in the rain, with the thunder rumbling above them, their arms wrapped around each other, and their lips fused together, that she allowed herself, for the briefest of moments, to acknowledge that somehow, someway, he had managed to break past her barriers—leaving her defenses crumbling to dust. Slowly he was making his way to her heart—he still had a ways to go before reaching it, but he was alarmingly and disturbingly close.
And it terrified her.
And it thrilled her.
"Emma." He whispered her name against her lips, his tone broken and pained, the desperate need woven through it making her stomach flip as her heart fluttered and stopped before pounding almost painfully against her chest.
Suddenly everything slowed down; abruptly he halted the kiss. Breaking away, he stared down at her, his intensely blue gaze shining with something that had her throat closing up on her—a hot feeling prickling across her rain-soaked skin. His stare unwavering, his body unmoving, he continued to look at her unblinkingly, his eyes telling her everything she desperately needed and frantically didn't want to know. And then, before she could allow her mind to catch up with her body, he was lowering his head again, slowly this time, meaningfully.
And she, unable to deny him, accepted him gratefully.
When they came together again, the passion was there, still lightly heating between them, but their actions were tender, gentle, telling. His lips dusted softly against hers, brushing across hers once and then twice before, their noses touching, their breathing broken, gently he deepened the kiss. His hooked arm lightly ran up the side of her body, his good hand dug into her waist as he clearly struggled to keep his actions tender—the need to go fast still burning between them.
With a sigh and hushed moan she tilted her head allowing him better access, disregarding the way the rain was falling harder now, the storm picking up around them.
She didn't want to stop.
She never wanted to stop.
"Killian." The name slipped past her lips without thought, and with it she felt him tense—his body stiffened rigidly as a shuddering breath escaped his lips.
Silence lingered thick in the air.
"What did you say?" His voice was low, the tone unsure, lost…hopeful.
"I—"
"Emma!"
At the sound of her name shouted loudly, just barely carrying over the pounding of the rain, Emma felt her eyes widen, her body straightening. Slowly she came back into herself. Her surroundings—the drenched jungle, the dead animal behind her, Hook's arms wrapped around her—gradually swam into focus.
"Emma! Hook!"
David. Mary Margaret.
Pulling away from him fast, she quickly put some distance between them as she swallowed over the narrowing of her throat, tried to blink past the haziness in her eyes, and attempted to shake the buzzing in her ears. Watching as her parents burst through the trees, coming to a stop abruptly in front of them, she blew out a shaky breath as they took in the sight of the dead beast, their disheveled appearance, and her blood soaked clothes.
Fear, relief, concern, and suspicion flashed in their eyes as they rushed towards her fast.
"What happened?" David asked, his tone clipped as his eyes flickered behind her to Hook.
"We were so worried!" Mary Margaret pulled her in for a hug, a broken sob escaping her as she muttered about how scared she had been when they hadn't returned to the group, going on and on about how they'd been looking for them for what had felt like hours—the trees had seemingly closed in around them. "Are you hurt, are you okay?" she babbled fast, pushing Emma away from her, she began to check her for cuts and bruises, the action forcing Emma to flash back to only moments ago when she had gingerly checked Hook's injuries, the results of her actions bringing a hot flush to her cheeks.
"I'm fine." She said in a quiet slightly irritated tone, feeling uncomfortable as her mother's gaze continued to roam over her searchingly. "It's not my blood. Hook…he fought it off. He killed it before it could make us a meal." She smirked trying to lighten the mood. "Some of the blood just splashed on me. I'm fine." She forced another thin-lipped smile, desperately wishing for the ground to open up and swallow her whole—her emotions continuing to rage, she was still unable to fully grasp what had just occurred.
Nodding fast, Mary Margaret patted her arm gently, her eyes glimmering with tears. "Thank God." Her smile tremulous she gestured towards the trees. "Come on, Regina and Gold are just ahead, they've already set up some shelter so we can wait out the rain." And pulling on her hand, she began to lead her away, her grip tight, threatening to never let go.
Allowing her mother to tug her forward, Emma watched with an arched brow as the smaller woman stopped suddenly. Her back straightening, she squeezed Emma's hand once before turning her shining blue gaze over her shoulder. Leveling her eyes on the man who stood silently behind the small trio, she nodded her head once.
"Thank you." Mary Margaret's words were softly spoken, her tone filled with gratitude.
And following her stare, Emma watched as Hook nodded back, his gaze slowly drifting from mother to daughter. And as they locked eyes, Emma felt something intense and pure hit her fast and strong, the odd feeling settling low in her belly and spreading fast throughout her body as he continued to stare at her silently.
After what seemed like an eternity, both refusing to be the first to look away, the faintest hint of a smile ghosted his lips, before, in the blink of an eye, he smoothed his features back into a calm expression of indifference. And feeling another tug on her hand she shook herself. Turning away from him almost reluctantly, she allowed Mary Margaret and David to lead them through the dripping and heavy trees.
And as she walked into the barrier provided by the overabundant leaves, she closed her eyes—the feeling of Hook's kiss branding and burning her, lingering on her lips as the storm continued to rage around them, the cool and unforgiving rain doing little to douse the hot spark that he had lit inside her.
End.
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