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mayquita · 6 years ago

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Pictures of Reality - David’s Letters

A year ago today I started posting Pictures of Reality, as a participant of the Captain Swan Big Bang event. Today, a year later, I'd like to thank the @captainswanbigbang moderators for giving us a wonderful opportunity to create these stories. I'd also like to express my gratitude to my beta @jarienn972 and my artist, @imagnifika who accompanied me during the long road to turn all these ideas that flowed in my head into actual words.

As I have commented on other occasions, PoR is special for me for several reasons and that's why I wanted to bring it in some way. I thought it’d be a good idea to create a post compilation with the letters that David wrote, since these letters narrate, somehow the story of Emma and Killian.

Pictures of Reality Ao3 / Ffnet

Note: Do not read the letters if you plan to read the whole fic, because they obviously contain spoilers.

David’s Letters

Once upon a time a boy and a girl fell hopelessly in love when they were still young and innocent. They longed to build a life together, a promising future awaited them, but on the way to achieving their dreams, they must be separated for a while. When the boy left, he did it with endless promises that he trusted to fulfill. But what neither of them knew was that the product of their love had begun to grow inside her. Unfortunately, with his departure, the girl was left alone and unprotected, so the evil stepmother took advantage of her vulnerability to spread her claws and try to destroy the happiness that she would never get. The girl, sad and desperate, fell into her stepmother's trap, believing that she really would not be able to offer her daughter her best chance, thinking that she too could not destroy her boyfriend's promising future by burdening him with a responsibility he did not have requested. But luck, or fate, made the boy return to the town with enough time to meet his daughter and also to say goodbye to her, the tiny baby girl carrying part of his heart with her while he watched helplessly how she was taken away - perhaps forever - without him having the chance to hold her in his arms for even a few seconds. And this is where you appear, my dear daughter.

This tale hasn't yet reached the end, and that is why I'm hoping against hope that we will be able to write our happily ever after together.

Letters to Emma from her father, 1989-2018

My dearest Emma,

I don't know how to start this letter... but I'll do my best. I don't even know if your adoptive parents have kept the name your mother chose for you. The social worker assured us that they had accepted, but I guess we'll always have that uncertainty. Anyway, for us, you will always be our Emma.

Today is a special day, your first birthday. I would like to send you my best wishes for this first celebration, the first of many, if only in the form of this letter, with the hope that perhaps one day, these words will come to you in one way or another.

Maybe we can establish a new tradition in our lives from now on, what do you think? Maybe we can take advantage of this special day to contact you through these little missives, to express how we feel in your absence, to convey that no matter how much time passes, you will always have a place in our hearts, Emma.

It's only been a year, but we've probably missed many of your most important milestones: your first smile, your first steps, maybe your first words. I hope your parents were able to immortalize those moments in some way. And maybe one day, you can help us to remember them through those images.

I would like to talk to you a little about us now. Your mother has already turned eighteen and has finally been able to leave the house of that evil woman, the person who managed to separate us from you. Now, she is living with us and nothing and nobody will be able to separate us - ever - despite all the obstacles that get in our way.

It's hard, though, to be separated from you and have no certainty of how you are, if you are growing up happy. I truly hope so and that with our act, we have managed to offer you a future. And maybe, in a few years, we will be part of that future as well.

Until then, I can only wish you a happy and full life.

Your father who loves you and never forgets you,

David.

My dearest Emma,

Today should be a day of celebration since you turn ten! I certainly hope that wherever you are, your parents have organized a great party in your honor. Sadly, I don't have the necessary strength today to pretend that everything is perfect and wonderful, because it's not. It's far from it, in fact.

Mary Margaret keeps telling me that I should stop torturing myself, but the truth is that I can't help thinking about everything we have already missed with you. You probably already know how to swim, ride a bike, have gone camping, maybe you already know another language... And we haven't been there to help you or to be witnesses to your milestones. Sometimes I believe that having you always in my thoughts is a way of inflicting punishment on myself for not being brave enough to fight for you.

I wonder if your parents have already told you that you are an adopted child or if they have never considered telling you. I sincerely hope that they'll tell you the truth at some point, although I'm aware that it's my selfish side speaking now. The one who fervently wishes that, when you know the truth and become a grown woman, you will decide to look for your origins - even if it's simply to get answers to the infinite questions that you may have set out. I hope to be prepared to face that moment with enough integrity and not disappoint you even more.

You know - life sometimes seems to laugh at us with its irony. A little less than a year ago another child, only a few years older than you, came into our lives. He only has his older brother, who has also become a close friend of mine, and from the moment we met him, we felt a pull towards him as if our parental instinct had found a source to develop.

Killian, that's his name. Seeing that child so full of life, with a promising future ahead makes me happy on the one hand, but also makes the claws of guilt dig their way straight to my heart. Because it should be you and not him. But, sometimes life gives us a second chance in the most unexpected way, and helping Liam to raise his brother is our opportunity to be as close to parents as possible. And who knows? Maybe in the future, you and he will get to know each other and become good friends.

It's what the world of dreams and wishes offer us. It makes us achieve the impossible even for a few seconds. And my only wish will always be to meet you one day, my dear Emma, and finally be able to hold you in my arms for the first time.

Until then, I'm content to continue dreaming. Be happy, Emma.

Your father who loves you and never forgets you,

David.

My dearest Emma,

I wrote to you less than three months ago and I am already here again, holding my pen in an attempt to capture in written words the thoughts and feelings that occupy both my mind and my soul.

I would like to not be writing this letter on this occasion, or at least I would have liked its content to be as hopeful as the previous one. But unfortunately, a tragic event has hit us brutally.

My dear friend, Liam, my partner, my confidant, the person I love as a brother, passed away a few weeks ago while covering an armed conflict.

I am aware that, as you receive these letters, if at any time you do, it will be like reopening old wounds, or worse, you will suffer for someone you did not even know. But let me be selfish for a moment, Emma. Allow me to express myself through these words when I do not have the possibility to do otherwise.

I need to stay strong for Mary Margaret, who is deeply affected by the loss of our dear friend, but also for Killian, who has lost the only family he had left and with it, all his passion for living. It's as if, with Liam's departure, Killian's soul had also departed, leaving only a shell in its place.

That's why, unfortunately, I do not feel able to return home and undertake the dream of looking for you, now that you have become an adult. He needs me, Emma, and I can not let him down, I can not look the other way when a loved one is suffering.

I can only trust that at least you don't need us too, that your life is still full, that you have a family that loves you, and that you have already started the path to your dreams. I couldn't forgive myself if it was otherwise.

I hope that one day life stops playing with us and that it allows us some quiet time. Maybe then the time will come when we can finally meet. I hope you forgive me then, Emma. But if you don't, at least that will mean that we have somehow found each other and I have managed to deliver these letters to you.

Be happy, my dear daughter.

Your father who loves you and never forgets you,

David.

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.

My dearest Emma,

It's happening! We got the news a few days ago, but I still have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. No, this time it's real. You, my dear daughter, found us, or rather you found your way back home.

I still can not believe that I'll have the possibility of delivering these letters to you in person in a few months. I would have taken the first flight back home, but there are some things that we need to take care of first. We must convince Killian that he should travel with us. We can not leave him here alone, buried under layers of misery, so we will do our best to continue helping him move forward, and if he has to cross the ocean in search of a new beginning, so be it.

You can not imagine the joy we felt when we saw you for the first time in photos, when we were able to finally put a face on our beautiful daughter. You got your chin and eyes from your mother, but the blond in your hair comes from me. You are the perfect mix, the product of our deep love.

I'm aware that the road will not be easy from now on, that there is a possibility that you don't want to know anything about us. And we will understand and accept it, but now that you are so close, or at least you will be when we arrive at Storybrooke, I will settle for knowing that at least you are happy, even without us.

I want to know everything about you. What experiences you have lived, what cities you have visited, your hobbies, your aspirations, your fears, your desires. Will you let us, Emma, be part of your life?

Just a few more months and we can reunite as a family forever. Until then, be happy, Emma on this new journey you have undertaken,

Your father who loves you and never forgets you,

David.

My dearest Emma,

I still can't believe that we've finally been able to see you, actually see you, on your twenty-eighth birthday. Perhaps I could have left you this letter right there, along with the rest of the gifts you received on your special day, had the circumstances been different.

Maybe you wonder why, despite having been here for a few months, crossing paths each day with you through the streets of the town, or attending the same place for dinner, we haven't yet approached you. Or why we haven't told you the truth and we settle for observing you from a distance, to at least make sure that you are living the life that you deserve so much and that had been denied to you until now.

Well, maybe the answer is not the most satisfactory for you, or is it just a reflection of our cowardice, and I wouldn't blame you for thinking like that, but the reality is that the moment we arrived here and Regina told us about your past, we felt completely devastated and consumed by guilt.

Believe me, sweetheart, if we had the certainty that our confession would serve to alleviate your sorrows, we would willingly have bared our souls in front of you, although it would likely have meant that we would lose you forever.

But considering your traumatic experiences that have led you to run on more than one occasion and the history of abandonment and betrayals that you have suffered, we didn't want to risk ruining your life once more. I couldn't bear that because of our fault, you might lose everything you've achieved since you return to Storybrooke.

Because, as I see it from outside, you have become a strong and brave woman, ready to pursue your goals. You're also a caring person with the people you feel comfortable with, like Ruby, Graham, or Henry. And you have achieved all this without our help, so, if for you to maintain stability in your life we must stay away, so be it.

In addition, irony, or perhaps destiny, has decided to give us something beautiful and promising. We learned just yesterday that you will be one of the people who attend the course that Killian will start teaching in a few weeks.

Our Killian and our daughter, united by their passion for photography. I don't care if it's destiny or a simple coincidence, but the fact that you two are going to meet under such circumstances was unimaginable until a few weeks ago and now it has become a reality. You and Killian are going to cross paths and, fortunately, we are going to witness it even from the distance.

Who knows? Maybe Killian finds that hidden gem, that talented person that he always seeks, someone whom he can help develop full potential. Maybe I'm totally biased here, but I'm hoping it's you. Either way, you are already a gem for us, even though we aren't yet able to prove it to you.

Maybe some day...

Until then, your father who loves you and never forgets you,

David.

My dearest Emma,

Happy birthday, my dear daughter. May all your dreams come true.

I’m aware that we have already established that now that we have finally met, these letters are no longer necessary. But, since this has been my only contact with you all these years, would you allow me to write you one last time? Or maybe we could turn it into our little tradition, something just between you and me. Would you like that?

I'm honestly unable to explain in words how utterly happy I am to be with you on this special day and not just settle for watching you in the distance or writing longing letters hoping against hope that one day they would reach to you.

That day arrived at the moment when, in your huge generosity, you decided to forgive us and include us in your life, being part of your family.

I know that I will live the rest of my life trying to compensate you for all these years that we have spent separated. But today is a special day for you and also for us, it's not time to look back to the past but to look forward.

It's likely that when you read this letter you will have discovered the surprises that Killian has prepared for you. You can not imagine how incredibly proud I feel of you, of your talent, of your ability to achieve everything you set out to do.

Maybe your hand, the one that holds this letter, is wearing now something that wasn't there a few hours ago. Killian came to me a couple of weeks ago, telling me all the plans he had for your birthday and asking for my blessing to marry you.

I was aware that this would happen sooner or later, but that didn't stop my heart from bursting with happiness knowing that my family was finally going to be complete, that the person I've seen growing up, my best friend, that loyal and honorable man, will be part of our family officially.

I send my best wishes to you both, so that you are able to build that family that you deserve so much. We will be by your side whenever you allow us, helping and supporting you in this new stage of your journey in life.

I won't assume that I will be the one that walks you down the aisle, Emma, but in case you are so kind to choose me, it would be my most complete honor to accompany you on that special day and witness one of your milestones. We have lost so many throughout your life that I honestly hope not to miss a single one more.

Your father who loves you and will always be by your side,

David.

#cs ff #pictures of reality #mayquita writes #csbb

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hookedonapirate · 6 years ago

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Help Please!!!

I really want to sign up the Captain Swan Rewrite-a-thon, but I’m not sure which story to rewrite. For those of you who haven’t heard of it, it’s an event by @captainswanbigbang where you rewrite one of your own stories you may not be happy with or one that you think you can improve on since you have grown and matured as a writer. So, I need some help deciding. My thoughts are Sweet Salutations, which is the first story I’ve ever written, or On the Virge, the second story I wrote.

I would like to rewrite Sweet Salutations because the ending was horribly written and there are other things throughout the story could definitely use some revisions. On the Virge was based on a movie that I basically replicated, and I would like to maybe give it another direction, make it more my own. One of the things I would like to change is to have Emma and Killian as the actors in Emma’s movie and I would like to have them connect more as friends before they get together than I did originally. Also, I would like to have Emma’s parents in the picture instead of Elsa because I can totally picture David’s reaction when he finds out his daughter is codirecting porn. So yeah, this story would require some reconstructing and rebuilding than just a good polishing. There’s also Until I Met You which I never finished, and that could use some major improvements as well.

So, I would like to ask YOU, the readers, what story you think I should rewrite and what changes you would like to see that I have not mentioned already. Or is their another story you would like to read again as a newer, refurbished version? Please be honest, I won’t take any offense. You can send an ask anonymously, pm me or leave a comment to this post, whichever way you feel more comfortable with. But please keep it to only one answer per person. I have until September 30th to decide, and I know I should’ve posted this sooner, but I didn’t know if I would even have time to rewrite another story. But I’d rather sign up and drop out than not sign up and regret it later.

So here are the choices and the ao3 links. Please only vote if you’ve actually read the story you’re voting on. Many thanks in advance!!!!

1. Sweet Salutations

2. On the Virge

3. Until I Met You

4. Another story - tell me what story and what I should change about it (be honest please)

#captain swan rewrite a thon #csbb #decisions decisions #cs ff

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lenfaz · 6 years ago

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Sea Squad, ch. 14 (14/14)

This is it... this is the end of the road, thank you for everyone who read this and the incredible @sambethe and @clockadile for everything they did to make this fic happen!

Summary: Killian Jones has always managed tough spots in his con life… but never like this one. His brother is out of jail and convinced the only way to win his name back is to heist the casino of a major Vegas mogul, leaving Killian to do the planning. He now has to deal with a half-brother desperate to gain a name of his own, an ex-fling that carries her own torch against the casino mogul, his brother losing his mind over his ex-wife, his former mentor’s depression and the one woman he can’t get out of his mind giving him chase. Ocean’s Eleven AU

Rating: M

Content warnings: semi-explicit sexual content, law-breaking (they are thieves, liars and con men), mild violence (someone will get punched), mention of former relationships (for the main pair) and cheating (but not for the main pair)

Banner (link to banner post) and art by the amazing @clockadile Go check her art tag for the fic here!

This fic would never exist without the wonderful @sambethe who convinced me to do over hot chocolate on one cold Chicago afternoon and virtually held my hand and betaed this fic for months. thank you SO much for everything you do.

A/N: A long time ago there was talk about Hook & his sea friends and a few collective posts shaped the idea of a Sea Squad. This fic is the attempt to bring that creativity to life. Tagging @queen-mabs-revenge @thesschesthair and @jvosketches as they were part of that initial thinking back in the day. If a few things sound familiar, it’s because they are based on the movie.

Link to FFnet & AO3

on tumblr: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

More incredible art under the cut

Chapter 14

It was done. It was bloody done.

And they had succeeded.

Liam took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp night’s air. The money was secured back in the warehouse, they’d discarded their SWAT gear and were heading to the rendezvous point. He reached for LJ and clasped his little brother’s shoulder.

“You did well, kid,” he said, his heart bursting with pride. He looked at Henry, who was walking along beside LJ. “You both, did.”

LJ’s smile was brief and small, but it was a start. Leaving the two of them to enjoy the high of their first big heist, Liam fell behind with Nemo and Poseidon.

“Well done, boy.”

Liam smiled. “Admit it, Poseidon. You didn’t think we would pull it off.”

Poseidon shook his head. “I had my doubts, but they had nothing to do with the job, Liam. I simply wondered if you’d forgotten the things that truly matter in life.”

An image of Belle rushed through his head and Liam held Poseidon’s stare with solemnity. “I hadn’t.” They’ve reached the fountain near the Baelfire, the place where they were supposed to meet. Liam ran a hand through his hair, his nerves finally kicking in. “I just have to hope she hasn’t either.”

Nemo reached for him, engulfing him in a fatherly hug that Liam hadn’t realized he needed until he sank into it. Liam held on, finally letting every bad moment of the past few years go. He was ready to start a new life.

“I’m still mad at you, Liam Jones.” Belle’s voice pulled him from his thoughts and he stepped out of Nemo’s embrace. Turning around, he found her standing next to Ursula, only a few feet away from him.

She was still dressed elegantly, a blue halter neck dress that went above her knees, four-inch black heels and a caramel coat. The flash in her eyes confirmed her anger was real, but there was also a hint of a smile curving her lips. When he glanced back up her eyes were sparkling with mischief and that was when he noticed there was a small travel bag sitting at her feet. One could only hope… and Liam Jones really wanted to hope.

He opened his arms and gave her that smile he knew would melt her. “Think about it this way - I have a lifetime ahead of me to make it up to you.”

She ran into his arms, crashing her lips against his. Liam caught her, lifting her from the ground as he let himself go, kissing her with everything he had. From behind them there were sounds of throat clearing, wolf-whistling and a few ‘get a room’ comments - the last of which sounded suspiciously like Milah - but Liam didn’t let go. He couldn’t even if he wanted to, as Belle was holding onto him as much as he was.

When they finally broke their kiss, he gently lowered her down to the ground and rested his forehead against hers. He took a moment to simply breathe her in.

“Liam...” Belle started, her voice laced with concern. “You know he probably called the cops, don’t you?”

“Aye… I’ve already called my parole officer. I need to go back and face the music for a while, and Nemo has arranged for some legal advice.” He pulled her closer to him, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “But he understands…”

“Understands what?”

He kissed her again.

“That I had to get you back”.

/-/

Killian adjusted the cuffs of his shirt and ran a hand along the lapels of his suit jacket. His shirt was wrinkled and his suit was covered in dust. The beginning of a bruise was visible on his cheek and his ribs were sore. He ran a hand through his hair, wincing slightly at the pain as he tried to put himself to sorts. He was going to have to accept that he wasn’t going to be more polished than this tonight. It would have to do.

He stepped out of the police station with his hands in his pocket and a small spring to his step. They had foreseen this - there was little they hadn’t predicted with this job, with the exception of Emma Swan - and Nemo had already placed a couple of calls while Killian was being taken into the police station. There was nothing on him - nor would there be. Plus it didn’t hurt that Nemo was more well-liked than Gold by pretty much everyone in this town, including the police.

Killian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. While the night was still too warm for his taste, there was a soft breeze that brought a chilled edge with it. It felt wonderful to fill his lungs with it, as if a new life was starting. When he opened his eyes, it seemed that new life had conjured before him, because Emma Swan was walking towards him. Her blonde hair loose and down, its wavy curls resting on her shoulders. She wore no makeup, tight jeans, a battered t-shirt, and a red leather jacket.

She was a vision… and he could only hope she was real.

He let a soft smile come to his lips as she approached him and he could confirm that she was, in fact, very real.

“Swan…” he couldn’t help the cheeky tone or the wistful smile. “What brings you to this fine establishment on this of all evenings?”

She tilted her head, her lips twisting in what he thought was an adorable way. “I was coming to bail you out.”

“Would you do that for me? Really?” The questions left his lips without prompting, and he bit his lower lip to refrain for making more of an embarrassment of himself. But oh well, in for a penny, in for a dozen million dollars. “While I appreciate the gesture, as you can see, love, I had everything under control.”

She took a step towards him, and stood just a hairbreadth’s away from him. “Do you, Jones?”

He lowered his eyes to her lips. “I’d like to think I do.”

Her lips brushed his, soft and warm, and with one single movement, she’d upended his world again. Without hesitation, he brought her flush against him, his hands cradling her face and angling her head so he could kiss her with abandon.

A minute, an hour, a decade later, he finally pulled away, reaching to put a strand of hair behind her ear and tucking Emma at his side. Killian knew the moment had come and he couldn’t hold back the truth from her anymore.

Besides, he didn’t want to.

Taking a deep breath for courage, he started walking, his eyes on the street. “You know, pulling a job like this one is not easy. It requires a lot of planning, careful execution, and selecting the perfect associates.”

“Are you trying to get into my pants by impressing me with your knowledge of criminal activity?” She cocked an eyebrow at him, her lips twitching. “I have to say, I’m not impressed.”

“Of course not, but hush. I’m trying to make a point.” He cleared his throat as he picked his words carefully. “We had a lot of friends coming to help with this, but we were still missing a greaseman. Lucky for us, I found one.”

“You did?”

“I did. Wonderful kid: smart, fast, talented. He’s a bloody marvel.” He stopped, turning to face her. “His name is Henry Mills, he’s sixteen years old and he ran away from the foster system a few years ago. He’s been pulling jobs here and there while performing in a circus.” From the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he pulled the stack of paper he’d been carrying with him all night. He handed them to her with shaking hands. “He has a past that I think you’ll find interesting.”

She shot him a puzzled expression as she took the papers, her eyes scanning the first one. Killian swallowed, shuffling his feet as he waited for Emma to read them all. She did. Three times. She scanned one page and then another, and then back to the first, over and over again. It was killing him, but he didn’t want to push her.

When she finally lifted her head, her eyes had a haunted expression and her voice was barely above a whisper. “Are you sure - absolutely sure?”

Killian nodded. “One hundred percent, Emma. I wouldn’t be showing you those if I wasn’t. I had Smee looking into it. You haven’t met him, but he can get his hands on anything, and he always gets it right.”

There was a moment of silence between them as he watched the information finally sink in.

And then she punched him in the stomach.

The breath went out of him, the pain of his already sore ribs spiking back up. He coughed and winced as he bent over in pain, holding onto his ribs. “Careful, darling. I’ve already taken a beating tonight.”

Emma punched him on the shoulder without missing a beat. “You turned my son into a criminal!”

She had a point here. Almost. Straightening to full height, he caught her next punch with his hand. “He already was one, Swan. I just made sure he pulled a job where he was protected by people who would treat him like family, and got enough money to retire…”

That seemed to bring Emma out of her violent streak and into a different state. Her hands started to shake and her eyes filled with tears, the sight of it breaking his heart. Reaching for her, he pulled her into a tight hug, and let her sob into his shirt. “It’s alright, love. It’s alright.”

“Was he- was he there that night? The night I tailed you?”

“Yes, he was… he’s surprisingly not bad at blackjack, considering you’re so terrible at it.” She smiled against his chest and he placed a soft kiss on her head. “He’s a wonderful lad, Emma. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

“Does he know?”

“Smee is probably breaking the news to him right now. Since I wasn’t sure I would make it out in one piece tonight, I took precautions.” She pulled away to meet his eyes and he wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “If I didn’t make it, Liam would have found you.”

She pressed into him, her kiss both sweet and furious at the same time. “Damn you, Killian Jones,” she whispered against his lips.

“Come, Emma, let’s go meet your son. He’s waiting for you.”

/-/

The Vegas Strip was still bustling with activity at this time of the night, but, much like New York, it was a city that never slept. Emma fidgeted next to Killian as he pulled his car into a fancy driveway, her heart beating a mile a minute. He reached to squeeze her hand. “He’s going to love you, Swan.”

She waited for him to open the car door before stepping out and leaning into him. “You don’t know that.” It was the first time she’d ever voiced that fear out loud. Tonight was the first time she’d ever mentioned the son she’d given up to any living soul. She’d come close to confessing her deepest secret once upon a time, and it was to the same man she was now pressed against as they walked into the entrance of the house. In the end, it all began and ended with Killian Jones and her quest to find her son. Funny how those two people were now intertwined with each other in a way Emma was only beginning to comprehend.

“I know he will.” Killian stopped and turned to face her, his eyes scanning her face. “After all, what’s not to love?”

His words cause a catch in her throat, leaving her speechless. Killian gave her a soft smile before he grabbed her hand, lacing her fingers with his and pulling her towards the house and into the patio inside. A few people were scattered around in groups, making small talk and drinking glasses of champagne. In the corner she saw Belle standing next to Liam. Belle caught her eye and gave her a small wave.

Emma was about to wave back but her hand stopped mid-way at the sight of the brown-haired boy who was talking with Liam. He was flanked by a young man who looked slightly familiar, and Nemo.

Emma stopped breathing. “Is that him?”

“Aye, right next to LJ, my half-brother,” Killian confirmed, his hand anchoring her to the moment.

She didn’t know what to say, or what to do. Should she just go to him and introduce herself? Her heart beat a staccato rhythm against her chest as she stood there frozen. But at that moment, Henry looked in their direction. His eyes widened and he hastily made his way towards them. His lips curved in a tentative smile and Emma held her breath.

“Mom?” he asked tentatively as he reached her, and Emma lost the battle against the tears that were coming to her eyes.

“Hey, kid.” Her voice sounded as small and tentative as his. She only barely noticed Killian letting go of her hand and stepping away to give them privacy, because she couldn't take her eyes away from the boy standing in front of her, looking at her with awe.

Suddenly, he was speaking a mile a minute. “I wanted to find you... but when I ran away before turning eighteen, I couldn’t get my hands on my files. I tried to hack the system a couple of times, but I’m not that good.” He averted his eyes for a moment, but he soon was looking at her again, as if he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Emma could understand the feeling. “I was - I was waiting to get more into this crew to ask Smee to do it for me… but-”

Emma’s hand rested on his arm, the move slow and hesitant. “It’s ok, kid. You don't’ need to explain anything. I- I should be the one explaining things to you. I’m sure you have so many questions…”

Henry rested his hand on top of hers and he gave her a beautiful smile, bright as Vegas’ neon lights, before throwing himself into her arms.

“You found me, mom.”

Emma hugged him tightly, fiercely, letting the tears pour down her cheeks. “Killian found you - for me.”

/-/

He ached to go to her. Letting go of her hand and stepping away had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done, and yet Killian knew this wasn’t his moment to intrude. This moment belonged only to Emma and Henry. Still, he hovered nearby, at a polite enough distance, but not really able to walk away completely.

LJ came up beside him, his hands crammed into his pockets. “Well, they really let you out quickly.”

Killian shrugged. “They had nothing on me, and Nemo was gracious enough to make a couple of phone calls.” His eyes darted once again to Emma and Henry, now standing closely, heads bent, whispering to each other.

LJ followed Killian’s stare. "So... the kid is the lost son of the woman you’re desperately in love with. And she was working with Gold - against you - for a chance to have his records. The records she couldn’t get her hands on the last time because you ruined it for her in Tuscany."

The amusement in his little brother’s voice was hard to miss. Killian smirked as he reached to clasp his brother’s shoulder. “I think that is a good summary, yes.”

“Oh boy, there’s never a dull moment in this family, is it?”

“I’m afraid not,” Liam called behind them and they both turned to find him, Belle, and Nemo standing there. “But I do foresee some quiet times in our near future. Gods know we need them.” He pulled Belle even closer to him, and his eyes met Killian’s. “What I’m dying to know is… how come she didn’t maim you when she found out you got her son into the business?”

“She did,” Emma answered, her voice carrying a clear hint of mischief. She and Henry had made their way towards them. Killian turned to meet her eyes and held out his hand.

She took it and he pulled her closer to him. “Everyone, this is Emma Swan, the one from Tuscany.”

Liam and LJ nodded their heads and Belle beamed at them. LJ, sensing the mood and Killian’s need for a quiet moment with Emma, broke the moment by nudging Henry with his shoulder.

“Come, Henry. Now that we’re practically family, I’m going to play nice and teach how to bluff at poker.”

Henry didn’t rise to the bait. Instead he picked an invisible fleck from his jacket. “Thank you for the offer, but the best brother Jones - that is Killian - already taught me.”

LJ snorted. “Oh, burn. You’re going to pay for that one, circus kid.” He started walking towards the inside of the house. “Come, I’ll bet you a million that you cannot beat me.”

Henry trailed behind him. “You’re on, nimble fingers.”

“Wait a minute! I want in.” Liam said, following them inside and pulling Belle with him by their joined hands. “I’ll show you all who the best Jones is.”

“And me,” Nemo walked leisurely towards the inside, his confidence clear in every slow, sure step. “I’m going to show you all how this is done.”

Killian shook his head with fondness. “As you can see, Emma, nothing excites this family more than a poker game…”

Emma was studying him, her lips curved in a soft smile. “So… now what?”

He brought her into his embrace, his arms circling on her waist as he swayed on his feet. “Well, there is this Tuscan town I’ve been meaning to go back to. After you and Henry get acquainted, are you interested in taking a trip with me?”

“What kind of trip?” Her voice had risen an octave. “Those people were amazing to me as I got drunk and cried my eyes out over you. Please don’t tell me this is a recon to pull another job because I swear to god…. “

She was endearing, and infuriating, and was totally missing his point. He placed a finger on her lips and stopped her tirade.

“A honeymoon, Swan. “

#csbb #sea squad #lenfaz fics #cs ff #cs au

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searchingwardrobes · 6 years ago

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Natural Opposite: 16/16 (Epilogue)

Are we really here at the end? It’s definitely bittersweet to say goodbye to this fic and to the @captainswanbigbang. It’s hard to believe that this time a year ago I was just setting up my tumblr page and had zero followers. Now, I have made so many new friends, and a big part of that was doing this event. Thank you to everyone: mods, fellow writers, artists, and betas. Our chats on discord and all the sprints helped me finally write the thing. I had this idea for so long, but I wasn’t sure how many people would even care about a Dancing With the Stars AU. The response has been overwhelming, so thank you everyone for your comments, kudos, and reblogs. I especially thank my beta @distant-rose, my temporary beta @wellhellotragic, and my hard working artist @optomisticgirl. Being able to call all three of you my friends because of this event is even greater than the hard work you put in. Thank you!

And now, for that short, fluffy epilogue . . .

Summary: Dance is more than Emma Swan’s career; it’s practically saved her life on more than one occasion. But when it comes to reality TV shows, she’s always danced in the shadows of her twin brother David and her sister Elsa. Her first season as a pro on Dancing With the Stars was a disaster, and she enters her second season determined to prove herself. All she needs is a good partner. Hollywood bad boy and ladies’ man Killian Jones isn’t what she had in mind.

Rating: M for mature themes, steamy dance routines, and sexy times (But NOT smut)

Trigger warnings: discussions of online solicitation of a minor, bullying, statutory rape, and emotionally abusive/controlling relationships; stalking; anti-Rumbelle, anti-Neal

Can also be read on Ao3

Tagging: (let me know if you want to be added to my tag list) @snowbellewells @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @snidgetsafan @kday426 @thislassishooked @bethacaciakay @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @followbatb @onceuponaprincessworld @hollyethecurious @ohmakemeahercules @let-it-raines

Chapter Sixteen: Epilogue

Ten Months Later

There was a crash and a muttered “bloody hell” from the kitchen behind her, and Emma half rose from her place on the living room couch. “Are you sure you two don’t need my help?”

“No, Mom!” Henry answered. Was that panic in his voice? “I mean, um . . . of course not.”

Killian chuckled, and the sound of it made Emma relax. “Sorry, love, just dropped the bowl of popcorn. We’ll just pop another.”

“You two really don’t need to do this,” she argued. “I’m fine not being there, really.”

“But it’s also a celebration,” Killian argued, coming around the kitchen island to lean over the couch, “one year ago, we were on the show. Little did I know how much it would change my life.”

She accepted the kiss he gave her with a smile.

“Hey!” Henry admonished. “Remember my rule about the kissing?”

“Never agreed to that rule, kid,” Emma laughed.

“Yeah, well,” Henry told her, “Killian’s gotta help me with this tray.”

“Be right back,” Killian told her with a wink, “get the show queued up, okay?”

Emma searched for the Roku remote on the coffee table, groaning when she looked across the room to find it neatly lined up with the other remotes on a shelf of the built-ins. Killian never seemed to understand why she and Henry got so frustrated with this neat habit of his, no matter how many times they tried to explain that storing the remotes right next to the TV defeated the whole purpose. She got up and walked over to retrieve it, her eyes lingering on the top shelf where the Dancing with the Stars mirror ball trophy sparkled in the light shining through the window. Right next to it sat the Emmy she had won for her choreography to Heart Shaped Box. Emma had argued with Killian about it when the three of them moved into their London flat. It was the first thing he unpacked, and he insisted that this was where it should go. Not only that, he had already pointed it out to every person who walked through the front door, even the guy who delivered their Chinese order a few nights ago. She pretended to be embarrassed, but his pride in her accomplishments honestly took her breath away. He had never even been nominated for an Emmy, and yet he displayed not a shred of insecurity or bitterness for hers, only wholehearted support.

They had made the move to London at the beginning of the summer so Henry could adjust to living in a new country before school started. The movie shoot would be a long one, not wrapping until February, if things stayed on schedule. It would make no sense to pull Henry out of school at that point, so they signed a year’s lease on the flat and threw themselves into making London their new home.

Rehearsals for the movie had started last week, and Emma was glad to have Killian at her side. At the first read-through of the script, she had shaken with nerves. She had worried that the rest of the cast wouldn’t accept her; that they would think she had won her role just because of her relationship with its star. But it turned out that the producers had intentionally gone with a largely unknown cast, except for Killian, and the feeling amongst everyone was largely one of excitement instead of ego and competition.

Emma loved the script, too. She played a naïve girl from a Midwestern town who moves to London to follow the punk band she idolizes. Killian played the equally naïve young man from the English countryside trying to make it as a musician, pining for Emma’s character while she chases her self-absorbed rock idol. It was a completely different role from Captain Hook, and she couldn’t be happier for him.

The theme for Dancing With the Stars was playing on the TV when Killian and Henry came in, the latter carrying a tray laden with popcorn, sodas, and boxes of movie theater candy. Henry set the tray down, and Killian pulled his hand from behind his back with a flourish to produce a bouquet of buttercups and forget-me-nots and presented them to her.

“M’lady,” he told her with a wink.

Emma accepted the bouquet, frowning in concern when his hand shook slightly as she took them. “Are you okay?”

“Of course? Why wouldn’t I be?”

He sat down next to her on the couch, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. She didn’t press him despite the telltale scratching behind his ear. Henry plopped down on the floor by the coffee table, but kept glancing back at the two of them. On the TV, the couples had all been introduced, and the judges were being brought out.

“Is it weird to see your brother as a judge?” Killian asked, reaching over for some popcorn.

“A little, but I think he’s going to do a great job,” Emma answered, snatching some popcorn out of Killian’s palm. “Hey, kid, hand me that bowl and the Milk Duds.”

Henry’s eyes grew wide and caught Killian’s as he handed her the bowl. Then he lifted the box of Milk Duds slowly and carefully. Emma narrowed her eyes as her gaze toggled between the two of them.

“What is up with you two . . . “ she trailed off as she accepted the candy. “This is already open! Is there even candy in here?”

She opened the box and peered inside. Something sparkled. Her mouth fell open as she looked first at Killian and then at Henry. Slowly, she tilted the box and shook the contents into her open palm. Instead of Milk Duds, the box contained nothing but a simple, elegant, princess cut diamond ring. Speechless, she looked up to meet Killian’s eyes, which shone with emotion.

“Emma,” he said softly, “I love you. This past year has been the best one of my life. Dancing with you, now making this movie with you, it’s shown me one thing with startling clarity. No matter what comes in our lives, I wish to always, always be by your side.”

Emma blinked and swallowed, but she couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in her eyes. He took the ring gently from her hand. “Emma Swan, would you marry me?”

She nodded, the tears spilling over and making tracks down her cheeks. “Yes!”

Killian slid the ring on her finger, and Emma admired the way it caught the light. Then she surged forward, grasping his face in her hands and kissing him tenderly. Fittingly, the Dancing with the Stars theme music played from the TV as they kissed. When she first met this man, Emma thought he was her exact opposite in every way. Now she couldn’t think of anyone who understood her better, anyone who so naturally complemented her. She had finally found the perfect partner.

#csbb #csbb fic #2018 csbb #cs ff #modern au #dancing with the stars au #enemies to friends to lovers #natural opposite #searchingwardrobes

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clockadile · 6 years ago

Photo

Her lips brushed his, soft and warm, and with one single movement, she’d upended his world again

-Sea Squad, chapter 14

And so another year of the @captainswanbigbang comes to a close making this my last piece for the last chapter of @lenfaz ‘s amazing fic. So I leave you with a kiss that certainly doesn’t do justice to Captain Swan’s passionate reunion after all the action.

AO3 FFN Tumblr

More Sea Squad Art

#csbb #cs ff #captain swan #cs fanart #ouat fanart #ouat #my arts #ouat art #sea squad #SSCS art #my animation

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noahreids · 6 years ago

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Beauty in the Aftermath (CS FF) | 14/14

Summary: Confronted with the sudden appearance of her birth parents, Emma, in a moment of panic, runs. She flees the diner, Storybrooke, the country. She finds herself a day later in the Dublin, Ireland Airport terminal wondering what the hell she has gotten herself into. With some fear, a little determination and a considerable amount of faking it along the way, she sets off on a trip she never planned on taking but needed more than she ever knew. She finds herself, she finds a Brit adrift on his own journey and finds out what home really means.

Rated: M (Sexual content & some Irish whiskey along the way).

Also on: AO3 | FFN Tumblr: [ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 ] Art!: Cover | Ch.1 | Ch.3 | Ch.5 | Ch.7 | Ch.9 | Ch.14

A/N: I can’t believe we're here, the final chapter. This has been an absolutely amazing experience, beyond anything I could have ever imagined. And it’s honestly because of everyone that’s read, liked, reblogged, left comments, tweeted and just really simply being awesome amazing people. I know I’ve said it before but I appreciate the heck out of each and every one of you. You have no idea. So thank you, thank you, thank you. I wish I could take each of you out for a Guinness or hot chocolate, your choice ;) xoxo

So much love to everyone at @captainswanbigbang your encouragement, patience and work to put this event on is out of this world. Thank you. Thanks to @shippingtheswann, @imagnifika for amazing collaboration and to @halobxist & @meanderingcaptainswanmusings for everything xo.

And last but not least, please keep supporting all the other CSBB authors and artists. We are one lucky fandom!

And now will Killian find Emma?

Chapter 14

Emma tightly grasps the arms of her chair, whitening her knuckles and holds on until the tips of her fingers begin to hurt. Her heart pounds wildly in her chest as she turns her head, eyes wide. And there, just across the room stands Anna in all her spirited grandeur, hair damp and frizzing from the rain, cheeks pink and eyes bright with elation, like she’s just come in from a race.

Emma isn’t sure if she wants to throw herself into Anna’s arms or collapse into her chair and cry in relief. She’s momentarily frozen, simply trying to find her voice that is currently nowhere to be found. The how and the why and the do you know where he is are all clamoring hard to come out first that they get stuck in her throat, forcing Emma to remain silent instead, blinking at her friend, a new tear escaping.

“Oh, Emma. It’s okay!”

Anna rushes to her side and grabs hold of her hands.

“Yeah?” she squeaks out her question.

Anna squeezes her fingers and her expression gentles from excitement to understanding.

“So, okay. I promise. Let’s call Killian right now, he’s sporting the same expression you are, although with a little more self-loathing.”

Emma’s face scrunches in confusion.

“But he doesn’t --”

“Have a phone? I know, what a dummy! But listen to this, Kristoff and I were on our way to grab a bite to eat at the Brazen Head, and there was Killian, pacing outside a coffee shop. He was trying to figure out how to connect to the Wi-Fi on the phone he’d just bought, muttering over and over that he must have missed a hostel as he looked for you. So anyway, I run over to him and--”

“Anna,” Emma interrupts, eyes pleading. “Why didn’t you just call me?”

“Uh, we only called you about a thousand times,” she says, shaking her phone in front of Emma’s face.

“What are you talking about? My phone never rang.”

Emma fishes her phone out of her pocket, only to find the screen dark. Her stomach drops. She presses the home button and the dreaded dead battery image flashes across the screen.

“Oh look, here’s Kristoff.”

Kristoff’s grinning face fills Anna’s screen and all Emma wants to do is steal the phone away, she wants to ask more questions, she wants Killian to suddenly appear directly in front of her.

“Kris, are you with Killian? I found her. At Abrahams on Lower Gardiner. You’re where? Oh!”

Emma tries to follow the conversation, she really does, but when she hears that Kristoff is with Killian, all she wants to do is be where he is, now. She frantically stuffs everything back in her pack, unaware Anna has stopped talking or that the front door has opened once again.

She just needs to get to him and everything will be alright. She’s sure of it.

“Anna, you need to tell me where he is.”

She is met with silence.

She looks up to find Anna watching her with that same soft smile. One she doesn’t have time for.

“Swan.”

She drops everything. Her bag lands with a loud thump, falling precariously close to the end table, rattling the tea cup and saucer but she pays no mind because he’s there. Killian is in the lobby, eyes a little wild and hair even wilder. His chest heaves with quick breaths as they stare at each other.

“Killian,” she says with relief, with a small gasp before her feet are moving her across the room. He keeps them both upright when she reaches him, wrapping her arms around his neck, lips meeting in a hard desperate kiss.

His arms come around her, and hold her tightly, as she changes the angle of the kiss, wanting more, breathing him in. She only pulls a breath length away, hands gripping the collar of his jacket, eyes closed, words rushing out.

“How, how did you find me?”

“I’ve been to every hostel in the city, some twice and when I found Anna and K--” his explanation breaks off on a laugh as she peppers his face with kisses.

“You really found me,” her voice comes softer, surprise tinting her words and she watches as he turns pensive, eyes searching hers for the words she isn’t using.

He cups her face, thumb catching fresh tears on her cheeks, gently wiping them away.

“Of course. I will always find you. Did you doubt I would?”

She doesn’t want to say yes, or to admit to all the fears and worries that had threatened to overwhelm her, not when he had been looking for her as frantically as she, but he must have read it as clear as day on her face. He has always teased her about being an open book.

“Emma, where did you think I went?”

She opens her mouth but how does she explain such a thing? Her grip on his jacket tightens and she tries again to explain that there is a little voice that whispers to her when she is at her most vulnerable. One that tells her she isn’t good enough to keep anyone around for very long, one that tells her she doesn’t deserve him, but the words don’t come. She also wants to tell him how badly she wants to fight that little voice, how she didn’t want it to be true with him.

The front door opens and a group of young women tumble in, carrying with them their giggles and a current of cold air.

Emma shivers, tucking herself against Killian. His hand drops to her back, running up and down.

“Emma, you soaked through, sweetheart. Let’s get you dry.”

She buries her nose into his shirt, breathing in the warm, familiar scent of him.

“I’m fine.”

Another shiver and he tuts in disapproval, and she is grateful for the distraction from his question, for him not pushing it further, for now.

“We have to find a place to stay. They might have rooms here, we can ask,” she whispers as the girls pass and disappear up a staircase, dropping them into silence once again.

“I’ve booked us a hotel, with an ostentatiously large comfortable bed, eternal hot water, and room service. Come on,” he explains, finding her hand against his chest and giving it a squeeze.

“But? Why?”

He shakes his head and leans down to capture her lips in a slow, sure kiss. She chases after his lips when he finally pulls away, and looks up at him with heavy lidded eyes.

“I never want you to wonder where we’ll be sleeping again. We’ll keep it for as long as you want.”

“Killian,” she whispers, a touch of awe.

His lips brush her forehead before dropping her hand and walking over to wear she left her bag. He hikes it onto his back and comes back to join her, lending his hand out to her.

“Let’s set sail, love.”

She grabs on tightly but takes a last glance around.

“Wait, where’s Anna?”

“She slipped out with Kris. We’ll meet up with them tomorrow.”

Emma nods to herself but glances quickly towards the front desk. She finds the clerk, watching her over his book.

“Thank you, so much. Especially for the tea.”

He smiles and nods.

“Any time, the door is always opened.”

She leaves him with a last smile and lets Killian guide them to their hotel, never once letting go of her hand.

The room is only dimly lit by the small bedside lamp, casting a golden glow across the white duvet. The curtains are drawn tight, blocking the outside world from intruding in and muting the late night sounds. The quiet calm, only disrupted by the central air kicking on in a cyclical fashion. Emma takes it all in with long, slow looks and deep even breaths.

She sits crossed-legged in the middle of the king-sized bed, comfortably sinking into plush blankets. Her skin is pink from the hot water, fingers a little wrinkled from the generous amount of time she took in the shower and her hair sits in a messy bun a top her head. She is wrapped in a thick terry cloth robe, practically disappearing into the soft cotton and in no hurry to get dressed.

She spots her bag across the room, slumped on a chair and knows she could find something dry to sleep in but she doesn’t want to. All she wants to do is to crawl under the covers, feel the warmth of Killian’s skin against hers and sleep for days, but that would require Killian being back by her side.

She listens and hears the water still running in the bathroom, he too choosing to luxuriate in the first real shower they’ve had in a long time.

She’d tried to convince him to join her, but for once he stood his ground.

“If you’re in there with me, my mind will only be focused on one thing.”

She’d pouted but followed him into the large bathroom.

“But,” she’d tried but he simply silenced her with kiss.

“Most importantly, we need to warm you up and then we can have a nice chat.”

He turned the water on and the bathroom slowly filled with steam. Satisfied he’d turned and helped rid her of her wet clothes. Each layer he’d peeled away, he’d kissed a new spot. Her shirt came off, a kiss to her shoulder. He knelt while pulling her leggings down, he’d pressed his lips to the jut of her hip, warm breath lingering as he looked up. He’d given her a little amused head shake as she whispered please.

“Come here, just for a second,” she’d tried a new tactic and pulled him up. Her naked self, deliciously pressed to his clothed front.

She’d kissed him hard, feeling him hard. She’d sighed and it had been his turn to shiver.

“Emma,” he’d warned. “This is why,” he’d added, closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath before pulling away and pulling back the shower curtain.

“In you go. I’ll call for room service so it’s here when you get out.”

She’d finally reluctantly agreed and here she is now, waiting for him.

She spies the plate of goodies besides her and while she really isn’t that hungry, she can’t resist the hot chocolate, a sprinkle of cinnamon still decorating the top of the whipped cream.

And that’s how he finds her, in the middle of the bed, hands wrapped tightly around a mug, mid-sip.

When he hesitates at the edge of the room, clad only in boxer briefs, she finishes her sip and drops the mug on the end table, licking her lips and encouraging him to join her.

It doesn’t take much convincing before he’s pulling the covers back, settling against the headboard and before he can protest or explain why it’s not a good idea, she’s straddling his lap, her shy smile quieting any words of concern.

Her fingers trace his features, tucking a damp lock of hair behind his ear.

“You’re sure you won’t eat anything?” he asks, eyeing the barely touched plate.

She shakes her head slowly, finger tips running along the shell of his ear, down his neck and resting over his heart.

She likes that it beats just as wildly as hers.

“And you’re warm enough now?” he asks, hand running up under her robe to rest on her thigh.

A nod.

He gives her a wry smile.

“So am I going to have to guess why you were so surprised I found you? Or was it that I was looking for you at all? Or are you going to tell me?”

Her eyes leave his lips and look up, worried she is going to find a trace of anger or disappointment but what she finds is a smile and patience and something that might be love. She thinks of the words on her postcard.

And thinks it might be time to be a little brave.

“I -- for a moment I thought maybe you left. That you realized what a mess I was. That you’d had enough and it was the perfect out.”

“Emma, I’m not going anywhere.”

She looks for the lie and doesn’t see any.

“We could teach surfing in Doolin and eat fish and chips at that little diner every night,” he offers with a squeeze to her thigh.

“You were terrible at surfing.”

He shrugs, not offended.

“Eh, I was improving by the end.”

That gets a laugh out of her and a thought pops into her head, her own suggestion.

“We could run boat tour in Dingle.”

“And visit with Fungie every day,” he finishes for her, inciting another laugh.

But soon she falls quiet, eyes on her hands in her lap.

“Or,” she starts and stops.

He parts her robe just a bit and rest his warm hand over her frantically beating heart, her next suggestions on the very tip of her tongue.

“Or? Or what, Emma? Your heart is racing. Tell me.”

“Or we could go back to Storybrooke?” she finally asks, voice small, full of nerves, eyes downcast but his hand leaves her heart and trails up her neck, tipping her chin up.

“Okay.”

Emma blinks, the word barely registering. It couldn’t be that easy, could it?

“Just like that?” she asks.

“What did you think I was going to say?”

“You just -- you’ve never mentioned it.”

“Neither have you.”

“Killian.”

“Emma.”

She huffs and attempts to move off but his hand and wrist fall to her hips, keeping her in place.

“You just, you talk of all these exotic and extraordinary places that you’ve already been to and all these new places you want to see. But you’ve never once mentioned anything in the US, never mind Storybrooke.”

Now he does look at her like she’s at least a little crazy, so she forges on.

“I know Storybrooke may not be as glamorous as Rome or Bali or wherever, but I need to go back.”

“Emma, those are all places we can visit someday if we want to, but now? I just assumed I’d be going back with you. Did you not think I would be by your side? I’ll follow you anywhere, if you’ll have me.”

He looks away and seems to contemplate his next words.

“And perhaps I’ve been a little reluctant to talk about leaving because in one way, it means saying goodbye to Liam but--”

“It doesn’t!” she interrupts, cupping his face, passionate, sure of her statement and he smiles, turning his head to kiss her palm. “This is definitely not goodbye. This trip felt like a beginning and he’ll always be with you and any trip we take.”

“Thank you, I hope that’s true but that’s only part of what I need to explain. Perhaps you aren’t the only one with fears, Emma. I’ve quietly held onto my own worries, that you may not want me--” before he can finish his statement she covers his mouth with her hand.

“Take that back.”

And she doesn’t move her hand away until she sees the smile reach his eyes and the rumble of a chuckle in his chest.

“So does that mean you’ll have me?” he asks, hand slipping down to the knot in her robe.

“Of course.”

His fingers deftly undo the loose knot, warm hand parting her robe further, slipping it off her shoulders to pool around her waist.

“When do we leave?” he asks, moving closer, mouth finally, finally, moving along the curve of her neck, bringing goosebumps in its wake.

“Not right now.”

She feels his smile as his lips reach her jaw and move to her ear.

“How long do we have this room for again?” she asks, her voice grows softer with each press of his lips. She arches as he cups her breast, fingers finding her nipple, teasing, pinching and making her gasp.

“As long as you like.”

“A few days then, just you and me.”

Her hips rock slowly.

And she feels his groan against the curve of her shoulder before he flips them, hovering over her.

“As you wish,” he whispers as she helps him with his boxers, lowering them over his hips.

He moves against her, where she’s wet and aching for him, they both sigh.

“I’m sorry for running,” she whispers, voice tight with emotion.

He shakes his head, before capturing her lips, grounding her.

He pulls back, finding her eyes before sliding home, they both groan.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry. We’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

He pulls out before sliding back, stealing her breath and taking them late into the night, together.

The next few days tumble into a week, and while she would like to say they visited all the sights, explored Dublin, got lost in history and legend, in reality they barely left the room. They rarely got dressed for that matter and it was more than okay.

They did manage to see Anna and Kris once, where Emma pulled Anna aside and thanked her for everything.

And they did get dressed to taste some whiskey at the Jameson Distillery before tumbling back into bed, a little warm, a little drunk and full of laughs that melt into moans.

But catching her breath on her final days in Dublin, Emma thinks that she might remember those days and nights caught up in each other, just as clearly as some of the most beautiful cliffs and ancient castles.

She’ll remember the comfort she felt, waking up each day, knowing there was no end no matter what happened next.

It’s this comfort that allowed her to finally pick up the phone and reach out to David and Mary Margaret. With Killian by her side, nodding encouragingly, it had been easier to not hang up when someone picked up after the first ring. It was his hand in hers that helped her apologize for taking so long to call and when Mary Margaret had protested immediately, telling Emma to take all the time she needed, it was his smile that had her asking if they could and meet and talk when she got back home.

“Any time, any where, anything you need. Oh, thank you, Emma,” Mary Margaret had whispered and Emma had known it was finally time.

They booked their flight the next day.

And as their plane climbs higher and higher into the sky, and Dublin slowly disappears from view, she knows they’ll be back again one day.

“Okay?” he whispers as they reach cruising altitude. Emma casts a last look out the window before pulling down the shade.

“Perfect. Just tired.”

“Sleep then, I’ll be here when you wake.”

She drops her head to his shoulder and does just that.

“So this is where Emma Swan calls home,” Killian says as she lets them into her little apartment, flicking on a light and breathing in the familiar smell. She glances back to him as he drops his bag and kicks off his shoes.

“I think wherever you are is home.”

She says and quickly retreats further into the house, shaky hands holding the flowers that were on her doorstep when they arrived. She had told Mary Margaret and David when they were getting in and they had kindly sent a welcome home gift.

It was surreal. She couldn’t believe things were going this smoothly, that maybe she was allowed to be this lucky.

“Swan, are these all the postcards you wrote?”

His voice is distracted, far away. She freezes as she fills a vase with water but then after a beat she lets out a slow breath.

“Unless someone else was sending me post cards.”

“Will you allow me the honor of reading them?”

She smiles at his words and then thinks of what saying yes would mean.

Should he? So many of her truths are on there. So many words to him. Now that she thinks of it, they weren’t so much postcards as love letters to Killian.

“Now?”

“Mmm,” comes his distracted reply, maybe already glancing at the back. Although she knows if she says no, he’ll drop it. It’s that truth that makes her say yes.

“Sure, go for it. I’ll just be in my room, second door on the right,” she finally responds, not like he won’t be able to find her in the small space.

She thinks maybe she can unpack, maybe she should shower, maybe -- maybe she can’t do anything until he comes to find her or she hears the front door slam shut after he runs away. She shakes the image right out of her head. She knows he won’t do that but what will he think?

Minutes pass and she settles at the edge of the bed, lying back and letting her legs dangle over the edge. She counts her breaths in an attempt to stay calm. After awhile she hears his quiet footfalls down the hall, until they come to a stop in her room.

“Emma,” he whispers but she can’t bring herself to move. She closes her eyes and he walks in further. She feels him standing at the edge of the bed, knees brushing her bent ones.

“Is it too much?”

She peeks up at him through one eye.

“You’re impossible,” he mutters in the most loving way possible and then he tells her to wait and disappears. She hears him unzip his bag and rummage around.

He comes back, still only her postcards visible in his hand.

“I love all of these. Thank you for letting me see a little glimpse into your thoughts but I have to admit, there is one I like one most of all.”

He holds up the last one, the one holding the words ingrained in her mind. She holds her breath.

“I do, I do,” he echoes the last line to her and she scrambles to sit up.

“You do?” she whispers, her question imbued with hope, with awe.

“I do. I love you too.”

She’s not going to cry again, she not going to -- he tosses the postcards onto the bed, scattering beside her and reaches into his pocket.

“Whoa.”

He smiles indulgently, fingers holding a small black velvet box.

Holy shit.

“Calm down, Swan. I’m not proposing but this is a promise. That it’s you and me, Emma, as long as you’ll have me. I don’t want you to worry about --”

“Yes.”

His words trail off and his eyebrow pops up, a grin she loves so much, pulling at his lips.

“Swan?”

“I’m not worried, not about you. It’s you and me.”

He opens the box and gently removes the ring, and even though it’s not a proposal, when he slips the delicate claddagh ring on her finger, she knows it’s forever.

“I’m so glad you found me.”

“Always.”

“And not just that day in Dublin.”

“I know, Swan and I’m pretty sure you found me too.”

He kisses her again and again, following her onto the bed.

She cups his face, pulling back long enough to make sure she has his attention.

“I love you.”

“And I you.”

She pulls him down again, vowing to never ever let go.

THE END.

---

My goodness. That’s it.

Thank you for reading, I loved writing these two and thank you for coming along on their journey.

It’s possible I may write a look into their future because I don’t want to say goodbye but... we’ll see.

Have I said thank you! <3

#cs ff #cs fanfic #csbb #csbb 2018 #captain swan #cs au #captain swan big bang #lana writes cs #fic: beauty in the aftermath #dear god it's done #i can't even believe it

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prongsie · 6 years ago

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ULTIMA THULE

Chapter 13: On The Distant Horizon

“I do,” his voice was low, his accent rougher around the edges. “I know we face an uncertain future, but there’s one thing I want you to be certain of - that I will always, always fight to be by your side.”

Emma felt no shame in the tear that slid down her cheek, warm was summer rain, and twisted her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. Killian met her halfway, his lips pressing against hers in a sweet touch before curling his hand in her hair and melting into her.

The sun drowned in the sky behind them, falling away in a spectacular burst of color, but all Emma saw was blue.

For @captainswanbigbang 2018 by @hooksandblakes

Summary: Emma could remember fingers tangled in her curls, the weight of a hand settling on the small of her back, a smile meant only for her eyes. To have a soft kiss pressed against her lips, tentative and sweet, to share each other’s breath. Emma knew what it was to have someone by her side, until he’d been taken away. She’s spent near to half her life watching the horizon line, waiting for the tides to bring back what the sea once took away. Killian looked down at his hands, stained crimson with his brother’s blood, before staring across the deck as the pirate ship left his shattered world in its wake, and wondered what they could possibly have stood to gain from his loss. He’s lost everything, his family, his love, even his hand. The one thing he believes he can- no, will - get back is his ship. Killian doesn’t expect to be swept up in a rescue mission with a brave (or perhaps reckless) teenage boy, desperate to find his mother. He doesn’t foresee having to choose between the life he’s crafted out of blood and vengeance, or the possibility to reclaim the man he’d wanted to be.

A Captain Swan story, based on Pirates of the Caribbean.

Rating: T Content Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Minor Character Death AO3 & Tumblr (P) (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11)(12)

OMG! Here we are, this story... GUYS asdjkhaksfef I’m so PROUD to be part of it and I wanted to do it justice with this final piece, this scene is EVERYTHING. It was an adventure to read this wonderful AU! Thanks so much @hooksandblakes for your support, ideas and being able to illustrate your world! Thanks to the @captainswanbigbang team for their job and team.

Thanks all the people who sent messages and support my work, you’re the best!

Here’s for more years of Captain Swan!!!

♥

#csbb #2018 csbb #Captain Swan #once upon a time #pirates of the caribbean #emma swan #killian jones

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shippingtheswann · 6 years ago

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Summary: Emma Swan has been married since she was five years old. Under the old oak tree, she wed Killian Jones, her neighbor. Then, he moved away, but made one final promise, that one day he would marry her for real. See what happens when he returns to make good on his promise.

Fools Rush In Chapter Fourteen

Read from the beginning here

Rating: E/M

Warnings: Smut

A/N: Thanks to @captainswanbigbang for once again organizing an amazing event. I’ve been missing Captain Swan for the past year, and having this has helped so much! Thanks to Lana @high-seas-swan and Kaitlyn @spartanguard for their beta help. Go check out Lana’s story when you get a moment as well – it’s amazing! Thanks to Rachel @ladyciaramiggles for the art she has provided. Also, thanks to Kris @sambethe for the cover art for the story and for beta help. All of you have made this story what it is! Enjoy the final chapter! On a little note, there is a part at the end that may not seem super realistic; but I thought it was cute - and hey, it’s an AU so anything is possible! Thanks for all the reviews and love you’ve given this story! A huge thanks to the Mods of @captainswanbigbang for all their hard work and dedication! I am already working on something for next year!

It was a long week without Emma Swan. Killian was pretty sure he was in hell without her; but the pain he felt when he heard her speak to her friends about the real reason she started their relationship hurt more.

He walked around in a daze without her. His bed felt too large and empty without her. He missed her breathing, her smell, her laugh. He missed the way her eyes danced with a passion when looking at him, they way they glistened when she smiled. He missed her next to him - her body touching his, causing his blood to simmer in a way no one else could.

Yet the sting he felt when he heard the words leave her lips chilled him to the bone and made each feeling her felt for her hurt more. He missed her, but his heart was broken.

Never before had he felt this way. He thought the world had ended when Milah left, but it only took a few days for him to realize that she wasn’t right for him and there was still light in his life. He thought he was in pain when his mother died, and the most important, biggest part of his life became missing; but none of it compared to what he was feeling now.

Emotions wracked his system. He was angry, and that anger would turn into pain and heartbreak in a second. The heartbreak would then be overtaken by grief and sadness. That would turn into loneliness and a feeling of confusion for how would he continue on without her.

He wanted to forgive her, wanted to go running back into her arms, begging her to forgive him for his behavior. He wanted to demand the truth on how she felt; because in his heart, he knew that she wouldn’t just propose marriage only to get Henry. She must have feelings for him. However, he still had to question everything that happened. He couldn’t help it. The nagging thought sat at the back of his head. What if she had only done this simply to get Henry?

He thought about it.

She probably only met with him that first night as just to get things over with - for old times sake. She probably only forgave him because it was the nice thing to do, something you did for old friends. When he brought up their old promise, he could see the confusion in her face. It wasn’t until later that she brought it up again. After a long period of thought, he was sure--she was probably thinking that she could get Henry quicker, without having to marry a stranger or a creep.

The whole week, that was his thought process - even after Henry came over, trying to get him to come home.

His phone had been ringing steadily on Sunday, then he just got annoyed and threw it at the wall, mad at her and himself. But, he had forgotten he had given Henry his duty phone number - only to be used in case of emergency.

He thought back to the afternoon Henry called and came by.

“Jones,” he barked out, picking up the phone, cursing whatever sailor had the balls to call him after he had called out sick.

Normally, he would have to go into work, see the on-call doctor, and then go home; but his commanding officer had been lenient. When he called that morning, his CO was surprised, but said he could just take the day, as long as his ass was at work the next day.

“Hey,” a small voice, timidly answered. “It’s me, Henry; don’t hang up,” the last part came out quickly with a nervous hint.

“Henry?” he questioned.

“I know you said this number was for emergency only; but it is,” he spit out quickly.

Panic set in - every single worry Killian ever had about Emma flashed through his mind.

“What’s wrong?” The concern evident in his tone.

“I couldn’t get a hold of you. You have to forgive mom, you have to talk to her. Please, Killian,” he begged. Killian was pretty sure Henry was at school. Things must be pretty bad for Henry to call in the middle of the school day.

“Henry…” he began, but the boy cut him off.

“Please. She’s a mess. I’ve never seen her so upset. Never. You have to talk to her, let her explain things. Give her a second chance,” Henry begged, rather quickly, which told him that Henry wasn’t in class where he should be.

“Henry, this isn’t something you can fix,” he tried to calm him down, but his words did nothing.

He heard a ringing over the phone, probably signaling the end of a class period or the start of one.

“Crap,” he heard Henry mutter. “Can I come by and see you? After school,” Henry’s words were louder now. Killian could picture him now; the boy was probably huddled in a bathroom, trying to get out the call before the change of class ended.

“Ok, I’ll text you the address,” Killian replied, not wanting to keep him, and knowing that if he didn’t, Henry wouldn’t get off the phone.

“Thanks,” he ended the call with the thought.

Later that afternoon, Henry pounded on Liam’s front door, with such a force that surprised Killian.

“Hey, lad; come in,” Killian gestured to the front room.

Before he joined him, however, he took a peek outside, a little bit worried that Henry tricked him into the meeting and Emma would be waiting for him. He wouldn’t put it past the lad. His aunt was the queen of meddling, after all. He probably learned from her. So, not seeing Emma sitting in her bug outside his house was a bit disappointing, but a relief at the same time.

“Killian, you have to go see her, listen to her,” he begged, not skipping a beat, getting straight to the point.

“Henry, what happened between your mom and I, it isn’t something I can just get over, you know that right?” Killian asked, hoping Henry would understand that even though friends can forgive just about anything, somethings were just too much to come back from.

“But you don’t even know the whole story,” his annoyance at the situation clear.

“That’s not the point though, Henry. The point is, your mother lied to me; she led me to believe one thing when the other was true. She played me,” Killian said deflated. It was the first time he was actually confessing his feelings about the whole thing. Liam had asked, but he kept it short, not wanting to think I about it - especially knowing Liam and what would surely be his insistence that Killian man up and listen to her before doing anything rash.

“But that isn’t what really happened!” Henry’s anger was evident. His fist pounded into the cushion of the couch.

Killian stared at him, eyebrow raised in question. He didn’t have to tell Henry he was being unreasonable. They both were; but Henry’s wasn’t called for. Until Henry grew up, experienced love and heartbreak, he wouldn’t understand.

That was it after all. The pain was bad because Killian loved Emma. In his heart, the love still had roots. But he wasn’t sure the love was strong enough to withstand the hurricane she brought upon him.

He hadn’t told anyone he loved her. At times, he regretted it - not telling her every chance he got, especially with his history. But, he was also glad he had guarded his feelings. His heart barely survived this blow, and he knew it wouldn’t survive being ripped out and stepped on, which is what would have happened if he told her.

The pain he was feeling would only be multiplied if he had confessed his true feelings. Especially if she had said the words back, which he believed she would.

He knew it was an internal fight he would continue to have with himself. Did the love come before or after the using; did the love change her behavior and meaning; did the love have any effect at all?

“She promised, you promised,” he heard Henry whisper to his lap.

“What was that?” Killian asked.

“You guys promised nothing would change. Before you two started dating or whatever. You guys said if you did move out, things wouldn’t change. But they have,” he replied. His eyes still down cast on his lap.

“You’re right,” he said, causing Henry to look up. “We said nothing would change, and that’s my fault. I’m not gonna lie to you - things have; but I will always be there for you,” Killian said, moving to sit next to him.

“Really? You’ll still come on the field trip with me next week?” Henry asked, his demeanor already changing.

“Of course. The CO already approved my time off. I was going to the store later in the week to find a lunchbox, too!” Killian smiled.

“Good,” he smiled back.

They chatted for a few more hours. Killian already knew that Emma would expect Henry home by seven, and time was ticking by. But he didn’t want to give it up. He missed Henry’s company, even though they’d only been separated for a few days. Killian smiled as he thought about it. Not only had he invested his life in Emma, he invested in it Henry, too.

He couldn’t picture his life without either one of them in it. Even though he was still mad at Emma, even though he still couldn’t start processing what everything meant, he knew he would need to start thinking about allowing Emma to explain and mending the relationship he had with her. If not for him, for Henry.

“I’ll think about it,” Killian said, as the TV show they had been watching ended.

“Huh?” Henry asked.

“I’ll think about talking to your mom - about mending it all - but it’ll take time. I can’t promise we will make up, but I will promise that no matter what, I’ll always be there for you,” Killian said, a smile appearing on his face.

“Thanks, Killian,” Henry smiled back.

Killian looked over and noted the time.

“I better be getting you back,” he said, nodding his head towards to door.

Before they headed towards the car, Killian turned around to say one final thing to Henry; but before he was able to start, he was met with a force against his chest.

Henry was pressed again him, his arms wrapped around his back.

The hug took Killian by surprise. But, he enjoyed it. He wrapped his arms around Henry, clapping his hand against his back.

“I hope you and mom work things out; the house feels wrong without you,” he said, smiling up at Killian.

“Aye, me too, Henry. Me too,” Killian replied.

They decided on the ride back to not tell Emma about Henry’s sneaky meeting. It didn’t surprise him that Emma had no clue Henry had come to visit him. Mostly because Henry didn’t lie - it wasn’t really in his nature. So when Henry confessed, it made Killian laugh. Henry looked so excited to be getting away with it, the meddling, that Killian didn’t have the heart to tell on him.

He was worried that Emma would come out and see him when his Jeep pulled into the driveway, but the doorway remained empty.

Since he pulled back out of the drive, his feelings had been playing ping pong.

He did think about Emma, and what everything meant; but he couldn’t decide what he wanted to feel. Or, every time he came to a decision, a voice inside his head would talk him out of it.

That is what his week was like. Walking through like he was in fog.

Each day got easier though; each day, the fight between his head and heart was starting to die down. Things began to look clearer, the fog slowly lifting. At times, he thought he could even see the distance; what was there, in the place he so longed to get to, was unclear, but he knew things would start to lift soon.

It was getting easier for him to forgive what he heard Emma say, and the voice that told him she would never love him the way he loved her was getting smaller each day.

While he wanted to thank his own mind, he knew in reality it was thanks to Henry and Liam. Henry pulled him from the verge of a deep depression. Killian knew Henry was just as upset over Emma’s words, so if the boy could forgive Emma, surely one day he could, too. But, unlike Henry, he knew it was going to take longer for his heart to heal; for the demons that lay in his mind to rest.

Liam was patient. He knew not to pry too much. He learned his lesson after Milah. But that didn’t stop him for putting his two, or two hundred cents in. Each day, at least twice, Liam would ask if he spoke to Emma, if he was willing to give her another chance to explain herself. Each day, Killian’s answer was the same - he just wasn’t quite ready yet. He was pretty sure that Liam wouldn’t keep accepting that answer much longer.

He could hear his brother’s words repeating in his head.

You love her; so just go get her. Forgive her. You’ve both made mistakes. No relationship is perfect. Stop being such a wanker.

His brother was right, as much as it pained him to admit it.

They both made mistakes in the past. And while one angry voice in his head told him Emma’s mistake was worse, he knew that it didn’t really matter. Not really. Not in the long term.

There was only one thing that really mattered - that he loved her.

If he was being completely honest with himself, he had loved Emma - truly, madly, deeply loved Emma - forever.

By Saturday morning, his options were weighed, his thoughts fully processed, and his head and heart finally on the same page.

He knew it was going to take some work - that they had to build back up the trust they once had in each other, that their mistakes would take some time to fully get over; but he was willing to make that happen. She was worth it; they were worth it.

Emma Swan was the love of his life and he wasn’t going to let her slip away simply because of a bruised ego and a slightly sprained heart.

He readied himself quickly. When Killian stormed out of Emma’s a week prior, he didn’t return to get his things. He didn’t want to. It would make everything too real; plus, he determined it was his heart’s way of telling him he would be going back soon enough. Thankfully, he did have a bag in his Jeep with some essentials, including the letters he had written to her.

What made him pack the letters that morning, he didn’t know, but he was glad he had. He hadn’t been able to read them during the past week, not needing a larger reminder of his need to have Emma in his life. He needed to be rational about it all. Reading those letters wouldn’t be rational.

He moved through his room, throwing everything he would need in his bag. He paused though as he opened the bedside stand. The box of letters he had moved there on his first night back wasn’t there.

Panic rode through his mind, matched with a horror of losing something he held so dear. Then he thought back through the week, hoping to remember if he took the letters with him anywhere. Nothing came to mind.

He came to the next logical conclusion - Liam.

Why did it not surprise him that his brother was behind his missing letters?

Liam was a meddler - not as bad as Emma’s best friend, but he loved putting himself into Killian’s life. Killian knew it was because Liam had to take over at such a young age, becoming mother, father and brother all at the same time. Liam wasn’t sure which line to tread.

So while it didn’t surprise Killian that Liam could have taken his letters, what left Killian stunned was he couldn’t figure out why. Normally, Liam would have already prodded him about the letters, either teasing him or using them as a way to get him to apologize to Emma. But Liam had had the letters for longer than a few hours - since he hadn’t seen Liam or heard from him since he left for work early the previous morning. It didn’t really make sense to him.

Killian heard a car turn outside. An engine cut off and heard a car door shut. He glanced at the clock; Liam was due home.

He grabbed the bag off his bed and headed to towards the door.

“You git, you better have those letters; I swear to God,” he shouted as he neared the door.

Before he was able to throw the door open to confront his brother, the doorbell rang.

He reached out and opened the door, stunned at what he saw on the other side.

Emma stood there with a slight smile on her face, but fear and trepidation shone in her eyes. Her hands were white, holding a box that Killian was all too familiar with. Her hair was falling down around her shoulders. She was wearing one of his sweatshirts that he had left behind. Her favorite jeans hugging every curve of her body. She looked absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. Yet, there was a deep sadness highlighting each of her features. Her eyes, while bright, were tinted red, signs of tears that had been flowing for days. Her skin was paler than before.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know you’re pissed at me, and me showing up like this is probably crazy; but I just had to say one thing. I’m sorry. Ok? I’m sorry, Killian, for everything. Liam brought these to me. I read them. I know that probably angers you even more, but Liam told me I could find my answer in this; that I could fix everything with this. There’s something extra in there. Please read it. I’m sorry again,” she said quickly, not pausing to take a breath. She thrust the box back into his hands.

Killian was stunned to silence and frozen on the spot. He barely registered his hands wrapping around the box; making sure it didn’t fall to the ground. Seconds ticked by as he listened to her, watched her, and took in everything from her. Her words filtered into his ears and brain; but they didn’t fully register.

Not until she turned and ran to her car.

He was still standing there, the box in his hands, watching her car speed off down the road. Why did she run like that?

The words she had blurted out started to register within him.

She was sorry; he could tell she meant it, too. The pain in her voice echoed in his mind. She had also verified what he thought - Liam had taken the letters. He had given them to Emma to read.

Anger didn’t cover what he felt at that revelation. Most importantly because he didn’t feel anger at all. Not anger towards Emma at least. He couldn’t blame her for reading them, especially if Liam told her they were important. There was still slight anger for Liam though.

Instead, he surprisingly felt relief. She finally knew everything he ever wanted to tell. His words finally reached her. It may not have been exactly how he wanted her to get the letters, but he was glad she had them. His writing held more emotion than he could physically say. It was easier for him to write down his feelings for her over time than for him to confess to her his love.

The box started to feel heavy in his arms. She said something about the box holding something extra. He moved to the chairs that Liam had put on the porch. Fall was quickly setting in and the chairs would be useless in a few weeks. His hand reached up to scratch that spot behind his ear. The unknown of what she had left for him was driving his anxiety crazy.

All the letters were how they should be when he opened the box. The very first letter he wrote to her in the front. His handwriting noticeable, as was the drawings he had put on the envelope. The letters followed in order, showing his growth and feelings. When he got to the end, behind the last letter he had written to her only a month prior, there was another letter. Pretty letters wrote out his name. Like the letters he wrote to her, the address was missing. The name took up the space, screaming at him to open it. The envelope was simple, no special drawings or notes. Just his name.

He sat the box down on the table that was next to the chair. His hands came to hold the letter, raising it up for Killian to get a good look at it. He took a deep breath, a bit worried about what would be written in the letter. He knew it was from Emma, that she wrote the words that were on the pages found inside; but what they said was a mystery. A voice that he had pushed far into the depths of his mind came running back out. That letter probably tells you to take a hike, get your stuff and get out. Thankfully, another voice told him he had nothing to worry about - that the letter was something good and he should just read it and see.

There was one piece of paper inside, along with a photo.

The photo was newly printed, but held history. He instantly recognized the people in the picture: a younger version of himself and Emma. Instantly, it was like he was transported back to that day. It was the morning of their wedding. Their moms insisted on a picture of them before they left for school. They wanted to start a tradition, taking the kids pictures the morning of picture day. Also, Killian distinctly remember Emma’s mom complaining that school pictures were way too expensive, so they would take their own pictures. Emma’s hair hung the same way it did now. It cascaded over her shoulders, but the color and waves were different. Her blonde hair was more natural back then, the waves a bit more prominent. Her eyes were sparkling; the picture didn’t do them justice. Her hands were wrapped around her lunch box, holding it before her dress. His fingers traced her face, knowing that in a few short months, he would hurt that happy little girl.

He stole a glance at himself. His bow tie a bit lopsided, but it was cute. His could remember his mom yelling at him to fix it before the pictures. His hair was only slightly wild. His shoes were shiny in the sun that was already casting its morning glow over everything.

They stood in front of Emma’s house, her big blue door creating the perfect frame for the picture. His arm was wrapped around Emma’s shoulder, pulling her closer to him. Her head tilted in his direction. They both had large grins on their faces; not forced like some kids would do for their parents. Their smiles were genuine and bright.

He held the picture for a moment longer, savoring the moment of the morning. He was so happy that day. He remembered walking tall after that ceremony. Sure, he was a little kid and it wasn’t a real wedding; but Killian felt on top of the world that afternoon. One kid tried to make fun of him in the hallway when the boys had PE time, but Killian gave him a glance that told the kid to back off. For the first time, but not the last, the look did the job. No one could touch him; not when Emma was by his side. She always made everything right. Even now, even with him sitting on the porch, still a bit heartbroken about everything. Emma showed up, and instantly, everything felt right again. Seeing her made him realize that he was being stupid. Seeing her made him realize that life without Emma Swan was just shit.

Behind where the picture had laid inside the envelope was a letter. The handwriting drew him in quickly. Unlike Killian’s military, uniformed handwriting, Emma’s was stylish and beautiful.

Dear Killian,

I know that you are upset with me. I know what I did was pretty unforgivable. But, I need you to know something. What you heard me say - what you walked in on - wasn’t how I really feel.

I’m not going to lie anymore and say that the thought never crossed my mind. Because, of course it did. How could it not? I’ve been trying to adopt Henry for months, years. Of course I thought about how you could help me. And I know I’m a horrible person for asking you to marry me under false pretenses. But I was worried if I told you the truth, you would run away again. I saw the hesitation in your eyes; so I asked. What I didn’t expect was to fall for you so fast and hard. I’m also not going to lie and say that I didn’t automatically stop thinking that. But, not for the reasons you probably think. I kept thinking them, because it was easier for me to think about that then the real reason I wanted to be with you. I was scared; scared of what you returning meant, scared of my feelings for you, scared of how deep those feelings were so fast. Maybe it was me secretly sabotaging everything, because I’ve never been in a real relationship with someone that mattered. But, you matter. You matter so much.

The marriage proposal was a mistake. I should have never done that. But, that doesn’t mean what I feel for you isn’t real or that I don’t want to marry you one day.

I’m sorry for everything, Killian; but I also want you to know that I do care. I care so much about you, about our relationship that I can barely breathe. This week has been hell without you; but it’s also been a wakeup call for me. The reason why none of the relationships I had in the past ever worked out was because of you. You were meant for me; and me for you. We were made for each other; and no one would be able to fill that spot you were made for.

I read through your letters to me. I read them a few times.

I’m at a loss for words on what to say about them. I cried, I laughed, I mourned. I was angry at times, happy at others. It was like they made up for all the missing years.

I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I’m sorry I let our friendship slide.

However, it brought us both to this place; to this time.

I wanted to save these words for your ears. I wanted to tell you so bad. That is why Mary Margaret and Ruby were over. I was scared of telling you, because of the thoughts I had about adopting Henry, plus I was worried you wouldn’t feel the same way. I thought you wouldn’t feel the same if you knew I even thought about the fact adopting Henry would be so much easier if I just married you. I was scared that if I told you all of this, that you wouldn’t trust me, or my feelings for you. I never wanted my horrible, selfish thoughts to get in the way of something that I treasure so much. I never wanted them to hurt you.

I was scared to say this to you. But, reading through your letters helped me to see that there was no need to be scared. You have always been there for me, even if you weren’t here physically. Deep in my heart, I know that you were always there; that if I ever needed you, that the world would intervene and there you’d be, waiting to help at the drop of a hat. Your feelings for me never scared you the way they scared me. But, I am no longer afraid. I know what I want and need in my life, and it’s you.

I love you, Killian. I always have, I always will. It’s not the type of love that can be scared off by a fight. It isn’t the type of love that comes with strings or conditions. It’s forever. It’s deep. It’s true. I know you may still be mad at me, and I accept that anger; but I still love you. You can hate me for the rest of our lives; but I will still love you. I think I’ve loved you forever, since the day our parents brought us home from the hospital. I’ve always been yours.

I know it sounds corny now, or crazy, especially after everything we’ve been through, but our old wedding day for me sealed the deal. I am yours for life Killian Jones. I’ve been your wife for almost thirty years, and I intend on being your wife for years to come – if, of course, you’ll have me.

I know it will take time for you to forgive me. I know it will take time; but I’m willing to take that time if you are, too.

Henry will be my son no matter what; some adoption paper doesn’t tell us who his parents are. So if what you need from me is a promise that this relationship isn’t because of that, I can promise it. If you need more time apart, I’ll give it to you, even if it’s killing me inside. Because I’ve been selfish in the past, and now there is nothing I wouldn’t do to win you back.

I love you. And it isn’t because of what you can give me. It’s not because of Henry and our situation. It’s because of you, your soul. It’s because of how you make me feel each and every moment of each and every day.

I love the way you take care of me and Henry, the way you cook us dinner, even though we are perfectly content on doing takeout every night. I love the way you look at me as we lay in bed together. I love the way your voice changes when you laugh – a good honest laugh, not one just for the sake of laughing. I love the way you’ve come into our lives and turned it on it’s head. I love that Henry loves you. I love that you always know what I need when I’m upset or angry. I love that you make me laugh after a movie that made me cry. I love when you sing along to the car radio. I love it even more when you purposefully sing the song wrong or off key, just to make me smile. I love the smile you get when we thank you for dinner. I love the way your hair falls in your face if you wait too long to cut it. I love the way our bodies fit together, both as we are making love and as we fall asleep. I love the way you look at me, like you’ve never seen anything like me before. I love your hands, and how they hold me when I need them. I love your eyes and how they know absolutely everything about me. I love that you can read me the way no one else can. I love that your hand fits perfectly around mine. I love that you have an adventurous side. I love that you also have a sensitive side.

I love every single thing about you.

I hope that you can forgive me for everything. I hope that what we once had can still be found again. I hope that I haven’t chased you away forever.

I’ll be at our spot tonight, but only till 9 PM. If you show up, I’ll know you want this just as much as I do. If you don’t, well, I understand. I’ll give you your space. But I hope you show up.

Love always,

Your Emma.

Emma’s POV

Emma’s hands were shaking. They had been since she got in the car and drove to Killian’s house. She was pretty sure that her nerves were caused by the lack of sleep more than the fear of seeing Killian and speaking to him again. She was nervous about that, but more because she didn’t think she could contain herself when she saw him again. She was pretty sure that the tears she had been sprouting all week would pop up again, even though she felt like her tear ducts were dry. She was nervous as to what he would say to her. Would he listen? Would he even answer the door?

When she pulled into the driveway of Liam’s house, there seemed to be an invisible force that was pulling her towards the front door. All of a sudden, right as she turned off the ignition and opened the door, all the fear and doubt left her body. She was here to get Killian back, and nothing was going to get in her way.

Her hands didn’t stop shaking though.

She held onto the box of letters tight. While she had penned her own letter to him, letting the truth flow onto the paper, she spent the whole night reading and rereading the letters in her hand. Each time the words passed in front of her, she felt a new emotion with them. She felt closer to Killian reading those letters than she ever felt with him before. She felt his soul and every single emotion. Even though he wasn’t physically there, when she read the letters, it was like he was right next to her.

She heard yelling from inside the house. The oncoming voice made her grip on the box even tighter.

Reaching out with a still shaky hand, she rang the doorbell, which opened almost immediately.

A smile crossed her face when she saw just who was yelling behind the door. It was like a light was finally shining down on her. Killian’s presence, even if he was just standing in the doorframe, a slight gap in his lips; made her feel at peace. The nerves were still there, but they weren’t something she wanted to get rid of. They were good nerves, nerves that warned her of something good to come. She blinked a few times, registering every inch of him.

His black, inky hair was pushed back from his head. His jeans tight and shirt newly cleaned; no wrinkles in the soft fabric. Even though Killian looked good, she could tell he was suffering just as much as she was. There were dark circles under his crystal blue eyes. Evidence of a lack of sleep, which she knew she was the cause of. Seeing him, with a confused and almost upset look in his eyes, was like a sucker punch to the stomach for her. She knew she hurt him, but she never expected it to be this way. For him to look at her as if he didn’t even know her.

She spoke before things got too awkward.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know you’re pissed at me, and me showing up like this is probably crazy; but I just had to say one thing. I’m sorry. Ok? I’m sorry, Killian; for everything. Liam brought these to me. I read them. I know that probably angers you even more, but Liam told me I could find my answer in this; that I could fix everything with this. There’s something extra in there. Please read it. I’m sorry again,” the words came out in a sprint, not slowing down for anything.

She thrust the box into his hands, turned, and ran off.

It wasn’t her plan, but she couldn’t stand there any longer. Not when he looked at her the way he did. It broke her to see him that way, knowing that it was all her fault. She had hoped that he would say something to stop her, something to make her stay. She didn’t plan on being a chicken and running away so soon. He didn’t even chase after her as she got into her bug and headed up the street. He just stood on his porch, in a complete daze.

The letter she wrote to him was tucked in the back of the box, and she hoped he would read it soon. It told him things she was too scared to admit herself.

There was something cathartic about writing a letter to the person you love. It was easier for her to get out her emotions on paper than it was for her to physically say the things she was feeling. Yet, she felt wonderful after writing them, knowing that he had the words she hoped he wanted to hear. She loved that he could go back and read them over and over. Maybe, if he didn’t have it in him to forgive her yet, reading her words every day could help.

In the letter, she told him to meet her at their spot. She said she would be there until 9. And she would, she would wait at their spot as long as it took. She wasn’t going to give up on them. What they had was so pure and right that she would be a fool to just throw it away without a fight. If Killian needed space, she would give it to him, if he needed time, she would give it to him. Whatever he needed, she would provide. She just hoped that he was willing to forgive her.

She paced around the tree for the hundredth time. If only she had stayed a moment longer, maybe he would have said something, something that wouldn’t have ended with her circling the tree waiting and praying that he would show up. When she left his house, she still had 6 hours until her deadline was up. She thought about going to get something to eat, or walking around the park until it got closer to the time she said in her letter; but she couldn’t chance missing him, causing him more pain. Instead, she marched around the tree where she first kissed him.

In the back of her mind, voices were telling her to give up. They said he wasn’t coming, that if he cared about her in the way she cared about him, he would have already been there. They said that she was stupid for laying it all on the line in a letter; that Killian deserved to hear her confession rather than read it. They said that she was too vague and he wouldn’t know what she meant by their spot. Every negative thought was running through her mind and nothing she could do would stop it. There was only one thing in the world at that time that could quench their booming thoughts.

An hour after she arrived, she thought she spotted him from across the pond. She got up from her spot that she had created underneath the leaves of the willow. Her eyes adjusted so that she could focus on the man across the way. Once they settled on the man, with floppy black hair and a hint of stubble, her heart died. It wasn’t Killian. The man was too short and a tad bit overweight to be him.

Twice more did she think she spotted him. Each time, her heart raced and a smile came across her face with pure joy. Each time she thought that he was ready to forgive her and things would go back to how they were, only better. But, it was never him.

As the sun began to set, worry began to set in. While she would do anything to be with Killian, there was a large part of her that hoped and prayed that he would follow her. She hoped he would have read her letter and understand, then jump right in his Jeep and come to her. Maybe he hadn’t read it? Maybe he did and wasn’t ready for what she had to offer?

Emma’s phone rang from within her pocket.

“Hey,” she answered, noting who had appeared on her caller ID.

“You still waiting for him?” Ruby asked.

Emma had called Mary Margaret and Ruby that morning to tell them what she was going to do. They told her to wait a while first. They wanted her to make sure she didn’t do something rash. So, she waited until the afternoon rolled around. She decided then that she couldn’t wait any more. But she was glad she waited, as it gave her time to add in the photo she had found of them.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to show Ruby,” her voice broke as she said what she didn’t want to believe.

“Hey, he’ll show. I know he will,” her friend encouraged her.

“But what if he doesn’t?” she asked.

“He will, there is no point thinking about something that won’t happen,” Ruby countered.

“Just, what if he read the letter and felt it wasn’t heartfelt? What if he read the letter and didn’t believe me? What if he read the letter and doesn’t care? What if he didn’t read the letter at all? What if…”

“Emma, stop,” Ruby interjected. “You have to stop. You made a mistake, you apologized. You told Killian exactly how you felt, and that’s all you can do.”

“I could have waited there,” she whispered.

“And what? Forced him to read your letter?” Ruby questioned.

“Maybe,” she responded.

“You wouldn’t have done that, and you know it. Give him some credit, Emma.” Emma could hear the annoyance in her friend’s voice, but she knew it was only because she wanted Emma to see the good that could happen and not focus so much on the negative.

“But he just stood there when I was talking; he didn’t say or do anything,” she countered.

“Probably because you took him by surprise. Emma, you know him. You two may have been separated for years, but you know him. And what he did in the past, stopping the communication, was simply because he was too young to deal with what had happened to him. He’s not that same little boy anymore,” Ruby explained.

She was right, too. Emma knew Killian. Even though time and space had kept them apart, she knew him in his heart. Ruby also knew why Emma was worried, even though she hadn’t mentioned it aloud. She was scared that he would run off again, stop all communication. It’s what they knew. Ruby spoke truth again - Killian wasn’t that same little boy. He wasn’t scared anymore of hurting her. He wasn’t going to run.

“You’re right, Ruby. I’m just so nervous,” Emma said.

“Of course you are. You are going to the dark side, my friend. I already lost Mary Margaret to it, and now I’m losing you. Love is a scary thing, Emma. It’s not all sunshine and daisies, no matter what Mary Margaret says. Love is hard. You are putting your feelings and trust, hell even your own soul, into something that means so much. But, even though it’s scary, it's worth it, Emma. I’ve never been in love, but I see the way it affects you and Mary Margaret. You are both better because of it. Killian makes your life better,” Ruby’s assurance helped her. She had never heard Ruby speak like that before.

She loved her friend dearly, but love wasn’t something Ruby was about. She used to make fun of Mary Margaret for being in love. But something told Emma that Ruby wanted love so much, that sometimes she had to make fun of it to make it bearable.

“Thanks, Rube,” Emma sighed.

“No problem. He’ll be there; just give it time. Like I said, you probably shocked him when you showed up. Then, I’m sure you ran away once you said everything you needed to say.” Emma rolled her eyes at how well her friend knew her. “Give him some time. Besides, I’m sure he is just packing up all the rest of his stuff to move into your house.”

Emma let a small giggle out. Ruby had a way of making Emma feel better. She wasn’t a crazy romantic hopeful that Mary Margaret was, but she did the job.

She had continued to pace around the tree as she talked to Ruby. They talked about nothing of importance, Emma listening on as Ruby discussed her latest adventures with Graham. On the last lap, she didn’t see a figure walking up to her. She was too engrossed with a story Ruby was telling. As she completed her lap, she noticed the figure that approached.

“You came,” she said to him, yet Ruby was still on the line.

“No. Unfortunately, the douche bag left me hanging,” Ruby quipped back.

“Not you, Ruby. I gotta go,” Emma said before hanging up on her friend rather quickly.

“You came,” she said again, as Killian stepped closer to her.

As he came into the light that was slowly making its ways down through the trees, she saw him nod his head.

There was still a look of heartbreak across his face. Her words she wrote to him didn’t do the justice he deserved. He deserved to hear everything from her directly. While the letter got him here, she was going to have to do the rest.

She took a deep breath, and walked towards him. She stopped right in front of him, barely an arm’s length away. If she wanted to, she could reach out and pull him closer to her, pressing his body against hers. But, she stayed still. Her eyes met his. She couldn’t read what they were saying. They were bloodshot, like he had been recently crying. They were timid, but held strength.

They stood there for a minute, just taking in the emotions that surrounded them. Finally, Emma spoke.

“I’m so sorry. What you heard wasn’t something I was proud of. It was a horrible and selfish thing to even think; and I’ll hate myself forever for hurting you like that. You deserve way better than me. I’m sorry for even letting those thoughts get into my head,” she said, casting her eyes down to his shoes.

If Killian had a tell, Emma did, too. He scratched behind his ear when nervous, and Emma couldn’t help but find the nearest floor and stare at it.

She felt a hand on her chin, lifting it up to look back in the face of the man she loved.

“Say it,” Killian asked.

Emma didn’t need to ask what he meant. She knew. He wanted the words she had written. He wanted the words that belonged to him. He wanted her to say what she truly and deeply felt.

“I love you. I think I’ve always have. I always will,” she said, her eyes not leaving his.

She saw the change in his face as she spoke the words. His eyes lightened. Passion returned to the shell of a man he was. He stood taller, prouder. A small smile crossed his lips. Without any hesitation, he pulled her to him, crashing his lips to hers.

The instant their lips connected, Emma let out a sob. It was the first time that week she had cried because something good happened. The kiss told her what she needed to know, what she was so desperate to know. He felt the same way she did. He was hers and she was his. Their bond was strong and could outlast just about any trial it was sent through. His lips moved against hers, slowly but filled with a promise of more. Tears that streamed down her face met where their lips were moving; the taste of salt sprinkled their kisses.

Killian pulled back, stopping their kiss. Emma looked up at him through watery eyelashes. He had been crying, too. A lone tear sat on the top of his cheek. Emma reached up and wiped it away, just as his hands came to cup her face.

“Tell me again,” he pleaded.

“I love you, Killian, I love you,” she emphasized the word, so he knew what she meant.

“I love you too, Emma,” he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss against her lips again.

“Come home, please,” she started to beg, a bit a whine came out with the request.

He just smiled and leaned down for another kiss.

They stayed like that for what seemed like hours. Every once in a while, they would stop kissing and just tell each other the words they needed to hear again. But, the real world waited and they needed to get going. Darkness fully surrounded them and Emma’s stomach was beginning to rumble.

“I’m so sorry again,” she said as they stood up from the seated position they had taken a few minutes after his arrival.

“I know love, and I thank you for the apology. I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have run out like that without getting the full story. But, like you, I have fears that I can’t always control,” he explained.

She nodded, understanding what he meant.

“I promise that I won’t hide anything from you from now on; no more secrets,” she proposed.

“Aye, no more secrets,” he winked, taking her hand in his, leading them back up the path towards the parking lot.

“Should we stop and get something to eat before heading home? I heard your stomach a few times and I’m sure Henry will be starving, too,” he offered.

Emma finally looked down at her watch. It was still early in the evening. They must have not spent as much time near their willow tree as she though. But all the time in the world with Killian would never be enough - not in her books.

“I am hungry; but Henry isn’t home. I sent him to Avery’s for the weekend,” she said, turning back to look at him as he stopped on the grass near the lot. “I thought we needed to properly make up before he got home.”

She winked and walked to her car.

“See you at home,” she yelled as she entered her vehicle. She smiled as she saw Killian race to his car to meet her.

“I’m glad you sent Henry away,” Killian groaned as Emma kissed his neck.

They had rushed back home after their reunion. Emma was thankful too; but not just because the house was quiet. She was so thankful that Killian had shown up. They hadn’t said much, Emma hadn’t fully spoken about what she had said and done; but the way Killian kissed her after she said she loved him told her that she didn’t need to explain anymore. The hurt and pain was old history already. Nothing would stop them now.

Killian had met her outside her front door. He had sped past her on the road, breaking a few laws as he did. It made Emma smile, even though she would scold him later for putting his life at risk the way he did. However, she got it. She needed him the same way he needed her.

Her hands moved up and down Killian’s chest. His shirt was so soft that she didn’t want to take it off of him; but she knew what rested beneath the fine cotton, and she couldn’t wait to see him or taste him. She needed him desperately. She needed him to be close to her, to make her know that he was real, that everything was going to be fine.

His hands gripped her hair, yanking her head back just enough to allow him access to her lips again. He was demanding, more than usual. His lips devoured her, his tongue fierce and frenzied. It was like he couldn’t get enough and was worried that he would never have her again. The need that pooled in her belly was just as strong though. As he took her lips, she jumped up and wrapped herself around him. Her legs pulled her closer against him and her arms held on for dear life. She never wanted to let go.

His arms moved her from hair down to her ass. His hands squeezed, causing her to release a deep moan. His hands against her felt magical.

It wasn’t just the missing time that made them come together that way. It was the new understanding of how deep their feelings for each other ran. The love that had blossomed and bloomed took over their senses. Every touch they gave each other, every kiss, was filled with lust and love. The confession made everything brighter, hotter, and more perfect. Sex with Killian had always been good, great even; but now that Emma knew in her heart the feelings they shared, knew that they were meant to be together, things were phenomenal. It was like each look and touch was a cure for everything that had ever been wrong in her life.

Killian walked them down to the bedroom, never breaking their kiss. Emma’s hands held him, her fingers dragging against his scalp under the strands of hair. She was panting through the kiss, desperately needing air, but not willing to stop.

As they entered the bedroom, Killian gently sat her down, her feet silently hitting the floor. They were both fully clothed, shoes still on. The second Emma had gotten out of her car and reached the porch, Killian pulled her to him, dominating her. His arms wrapped around her and didn’t let her go. She fumbled to get her keys out and door unlocked. Killian didn’t want to let her lips go, and she didn’t want him too, either, but she knew they needed to get inside. She didn’t need the cops called on her. She was also pretty sure her nosey neighbor Zelena was watching from her front window.

Killian bent down to start undressing her. He took his time, slowly undoing her boots, pulling them off so slow that Emma could barely handle it. His hands caressed her skin as they came off. Goosebumps began to form on her body with each brush of his fingers. He planted kisses outside her jeans as he made his way up, his hands coming into contact with the button of the tight pants. Her shirt just hit her jeans, leaving a small sliver of skin that Killian ran his tongue against. She moaned in pleasure, her head falling back, her hands gripping his hair. His fingers worked diligently, undoing the button and slowly working the pants off her legs. The brushed against her cheeks and his lips began to kiss down her frame, following the same trail they had taken on the way up. He still had more clothing to attend to, but that didn’t stop him from pausing at her apex on his way up, breathing her in and sending shivers down her spine. The teasing was torture, but one she loved so much.

She didn’t want him to stop, so she took care of her shirt for him. He smiled a wicked grin and yanked down her panties, quickly assaulting her clit, with his fingers. She let out a gasp, followed by a loud moan as he thoroughly kissed her. He reached around her and brought a leg up and over his shoulder, giving him extra room to play. She didn’t think she would be able to stand; her legs were already weak and wobbly from the pleasure. Her hands gripped his hair tighter. Little squeals of excitement left her lips as he took little nips against her lips. She craved more, needed him more. He was taking his time with her, wanting to get as much as he could, show the love he had for her. At least, that is what she thought he was doing. He was cherishing her, loving her truly.

As one hand held her steady, he moved the other around to join his tongue. He gave her clit a momentary break, as he moved his lips to her thigh, and his thumb began rubbing small circles against her. She was close, she could feel it. It had been too long since she and Killian had been together, and it was taking everything she had not to fall apart. She needed this to last, to be in Killian’s arms, secure in what they had. What they were doing was repairing their relationship. Making up for all the anger and broken feelings.

He finally relented, after teasing for her a while longer. His lips stopped their light kisses against her skin and moved back to her hard nub. His thumb disappeared, moving to put two fingers inside of her, moving them with such precision that she was coming before she had the chance to say what she was feeling.

“Fuck, oh fuck! Yes! Yes!” she cried.

She fell apart, her walls clenching his hands as he steadied her, planting slow kisses to her thighs and his fingers stilled. He let her come down from her high, but never let her stop feeling his presence. When her walls stopped their pulsing, he removed his fingers and stood up, taking her mouth again.

It wasn’t long before she needed him again, before the urge to push him down on the bed and take what she needed almost overcame her. Maybe it was the feeling of his shirt against her hard nipples that were pressing against her sheer lace bra. Maybe it was the way his hands were gliding against her back, just above her ass, just enough to send her crazy. It didn’t really matter what was giving her the impulse, because she acted on it.

Turning them so she was facing the bed, she pushed him down forcefully. Her arms came up to take off her bra in a fluid motion.

“Undress,” she commanded.

“As you wish,” he smirked.

He worked quickly to remove the pants and shirt he had on. Emma stood naked before him, patience waning. She loved the site of him undressing, getting to watch each and every movement his body made, fully focus on him; but she was ready to get to the fun stuff.

Finally, he was ready for her. He laid down on the bed, bringing his hand up, motioning for her to come to him. She walked to him, well, she more ran to him. Her heartbeat was already running a marathon. The second her hands found Killian’s body, she calmed. Feeling him touch her, his hands coming to sit on her hips. Her legs were splayed over his, thighs clinching together, not quite inviting him in yet. She was ready, but wanted to pause a moment to take in the wonder that was now beneath her.

His eyes were captivated by her. They bore into her, wanting to know every little thing she had to offer. His hands roamed over her lower body; hers moved across his chest, playing with the chest hair that she had come to love. She preferred his chest hair running through her fingers over the hair on his head. It was coarser, rougher, but covered what she was really after - his heart.

She looked down at him, their eyes meeting.

“I love you,” she whispered, not needing loud voices to get across her point.

Her whisper held everything they needed to know. It didn’t need to be screamed from the top of her lungs, even though she would if she had the opportunity. What they had was pure and special. It was something that had grown over the years and made stronger from the troubles they had been through. She appreciated him more now than ever. He forgave her for her selfish antics and she understood his emotions and trauma of the past. Looking down at him, feeling him twitch underneath her legs, she knew they were perfect for each other; no one would ever make her, and her heart, feel this way.

“I know,” he winked. She understood exactly. She didn’t need the words back, the I know was exactly what she needed. She needed to know that he understood her love and what it meant. She needed him to know that her love came without strings, without conditions, without force.

She leaned down and pressed a kiss against his lips. She started off sweet and kind; but he quickly changed the feel of the kiss. He was slow and in control earlier; but now, he was ready for her, needed her. There was no time to waste now.

Her hand reached down to grasp his length. He growled as she moved her hand up and down, just once, before placing him at her entrance. She lifted ever so slightly.

As she sank down on him, their passionate kisses stopped, each one of them moaning in unison. It had been too long since they had done this. She missed the way he felt inside of her, the fullness she felt. She sat on him for a moment, letting herself readjust to him. He felt different. She felt him pulse within her, begging her to move.

She pulled away from him, sitting straight up. Her hands came down to rest on his chest, fingernails scratching ever so slightly. She raised herself up, slowly riding him. His hands returned to her hips, his nails matching hers, digging into her skin.

Her movements started slow, wanting to tease him just a bit, to give him a taste of his own medicine. But, she couldn’t contain herself. He felt so good, so large inside of her. She needed to get him deeper, harder. She was unable to keep her straight upright position, but instead of bending forward, she pushed herself back against his legs, knees jutting closer to his chest, her hands moving to clutch his calves. It was during times like this that she was glad she was flexible by nature. The angle at which she moved created a deeper attack. Yet she missed the feeling of his pubic hair against her clit.

Without asking, knowing exactly what she wanted, Killian moved one of his hands to meet her nub. His palm splayed against her thigh, allowing his thumb the perfect access to her clit. He matched her rhythm, not rubbing too fast or hard, put with enough pressure to get her close to the edge again.

Right to the edge.

Before she could fall, he pulled away, his hand resting fully against her thigh.

“Not yet,” he said, as Emma whined at the missing pressure.

She sped up her pace, thrusting back against him harder than she was before. She didn’t want to stop. She needed him.

“Please, Killian,” she begged, the fullness of her belly getting too much to deal with.

“Soon,” he promised, a moan escaping with his word. She knew he was going to be nearing his edge soon. His lips were pressed tightly together, his eyes closed, head thrown back slightly. He was doing what she had tried to do early - delay what they both really wanted.

She wasn’t able to wait any longer. They had the rest of their lives to take their time, to savor each and every moment. Right now, they needed to come together, in more ways than one.

She leaned forward, righting herself against him, moaning when his hair met her clit. She pushed down harder on him, bringing him in as deep as she could take him. Instead of rising up though, she leaned forward. Her lips came to his ear. She pulled the lobe in and bit as she rocked against him. His hands came flying up to her ass, nails digging into her skin. She heard him let go the breath he had been holding; trying to hold back his release. He was closer now, and so was she. The deepness of his cock, plus the movement of his hair was sending her in a frenzy. She was also crazy turned on by the fact she was causing Killian to curse loudly every few seconds with the movement of her lips and teeth.

“Fuck, Emma,” he yelled, pushing himself up.

Her mouth stayed at his ear, but there were both sitting up. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his back. Her hands scratched down his back. She was sure she would leave marks that would drive her crazy the next morning. She loved marking him, a constant reminder that he was hers. She also loved when he marked her. The first night they spent together, he had left small hickeys against her skin.

One of his hands snaked between them. She knew he was going to rub her to her release.

His thumb met her clit again, and she grinded against him. She couldn’t move up or down, thanks to Killian’s strong arms wrapped around her, but she could circle her hips. He circled his against hers. His thumb worked her, as she kept up the nibbling at his ear. She knew it was driving him wild, because each time she took a nip, he would push his thumb hard against her hard nub.

Emma was close, her whimpers between sucks getting louder and longer.

“I’m close Killian, I’m going to come,” she mewed into his ear.

He removed his thumb, but within the second, two fingers danced across her clit, sending her over the edge. She sank deep against him, her legs closing around him, pulling him in deeper than she thought she could take him. Within seconds, he followed, spilling himself into her. Their bodies shook against one another, his fingers still playing with her and her lips still at his ear.

“I love you,” she whispered again, as she came down from her high.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, rearranging them so they were spooned against each other, under the covers of her bed.

“I’m sorry for everything,” she said, and she told herself it would for the final time. She was going to leave it all in the past and she hoped he would too.

“As am I, love, but I forgive you. It’s all in the past now. All that matters is our future,” he replied, placing a chaste kiss against her back.

She breathed him in. She loved the mixture of musk and sweat that Killian had after sex. It was her favorite scent.

He was right. He forgave her because he loved her. It was as simple as that. Their love was stronger than anything that life could put in their way. It withstood the test of time and distance; so of course, it could withstand this test.

“Tell me again,” his whispered right as she was beginning to fall asleep on his arm.

“I love you,” she smiled against him, sleep over taking her, as she finally felt at peace.

Two Months Later.

Killian’s POV

Things since the night Emma had shown up at Killian’s door had been perfect, if you asked him to tell the truth. Each moment he spent with Emma, his love for her grew deeper. He learned new things about her each day, and they were more open with each other than ever. While he wasn’t planning on asking her about what had happened when he had walked in on her and friends, he couldn’t help himself. He loved her letter, but he wanted to hear it straight from her.

It took him a month to get the courage to ask her, not wanting to break the bubble they had created, but he was glad he did. They were lying in bed after another long passionate session of love making, thanks to Henry having a date, when he asked her to tell him about it. Tears sprinkled her eyes as she relayed the entire story. She started from the moment he messaged her, and ended with her showing up at his house, the box of letters in her hands.

After hearing her speak about it, he better understood why she had done what she did. There was no more anger in his body, at least when it came to that situation. They had become closer because of it. His letters had come to the present because of it.

The letters didn’t stop there. Every few days, he would find a letter from Emma somewhere he didn’t think he would find one. One day she put it in his empty coffee mug that was waiting for him next to the coffee pot. Another day it was in his car, waiting on his seat. Another day, it was under his shaving kit. Henry even got in on it, helping Emma stash her letters around the house.

He wrote to her too, at least once a week, he would sit down and pen her a letter from the heart. He would tell her how much he loved her and how much she changed his life. Hers echoed him, with words of love and a promise of a life together.

They had discussed what their new life meant the morning after their reunion. He had admitted to her that he still wanted to marry her. Emma had other ideas. Similar to the bet he gave her at the beginning of the month, she had given him one. She bet he couldn’t go six months without marrying her. If he did, they would have a giant wedding, one that showed the amount of love they had for each other. He bet her back that she wouldn’t be able to last either. He bet a wonderful honeymoon to Ireland, to show Emma everything that shaped his childhood. But only if they could make it to six months.

Henry caught them a couple of times talking about eloping, and it had only been two months.

He didn’t think he would be able to last; but there was one surprise he knew he would need to wait for.

Henry had asked Killian shortly after he moved back in if he was planning on adopting him. It took Killian by surprise that Henry would be so open about it. Before he could answer, Henry started talking again and told him that he wanted him to. He wanted Emma to be his real mom and for Killian to be his real dad. The next afternoon he went to the adoption agency and spoke with Regina about starting the process. He knew Emma still wanted to adopt Henry; but he also knew that she was hesitant about following through - worrying that he may get upset again, old memories returning to the surface. He knew he couldn’t hide it from her; but maybe if he went and got the information, then she would be more willing to really get the ball rolling again. He thought about waiting till the wedding and showing her the papers - with his name included. All he wanted was to make Emma happy, and he knew Henry was the key to perfect happiness.

So, he couldn’t rush it. He couldn’t let her talk him into eloping.

Each night, they curled up together, her head resting beneath his, against his chest. Her legs thrown over his, her arm resting beneath her head. Each night, they spoke in hushed tones to each other. Each night, they went to bed the same way they did their first night back together.

“Tell me,” he whispered to her, planting a kiss against her head.

“I love you,” she always responded.

Looking back at their short time together, he couldn’t help but think about the old saying. Wise men say, only fools rush in. But the song was right. He couldn’t help falling in love with Emma; and she couldn’t help falling in love with him.

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