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hollyethecurious · 10 days ago

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CS AU: Sleeps Ten, My Ass (1/2)

Summary: It's become tradition for Emma Swan to spend the holidays with her brother, their cousins, and their families. This Christmas was no different. The group booked a four night stay at a cozy mountain cabin to celebrate. The listing said it sleeps ten, but upon arrival they discover a small issue. The listing was wrong and now Emma and Killian Jones, the only two single people within their group, have to spend the next four nights sharing a bed. Fortunately... they've shared a bed before.

A/N: @eastwesthomeisbest it is I, your CS Secret Santa! Thank you for being so patient and understanding! I'm sorry I couldn't post this sooner, but between the normal busyness of the holidays and my entire family coming down with Covid, finding time to write was a struggle. I hope you find this worth the wait. It was lovely hearing about your traditions and I hope you had a fantastic holiday!

Thanks to @kmomof4 for looking this over for me and to the @cssecretsanta2020 for once again hosting a fantastic event. Side note, this fic also completes my Only One Bed: Holiday Edition CS Winter Bingo square!

Rated eventual E / Also available on ao3 / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!

Part One

She was late. Super late. Incredibly late. Late enough that she was certain her brother had already called the cops to report her missing. Late enough that it was already pitch black on the back mountain road, forcing her to drive at a creeping speed so she didn’t careen off the side of a cliff, which was making her even more late.

In her defense, they should all have expected that she’d be late. She was always late. Every dinner, every holiday get together, every vacation, every celebration, Emma Swan was always notoriously late.

Not because she didn’t want to spend time with her family. Far from. She just… wasn’t always in control over her own schedule. Bail bonds and bounty hunting wasn’t exactly a 9 to 5 gig, and when a mark finally crawled out of whatever hole in which he (it was more often than not a he) had hid himself away through some dumbass attempt to avoid the consequences of his own dumbass actions, well… many times it meant a change in her plans.

Was it annoying? Yes.

Did she make sure to take out that frustration on the perp? Also, yes.

Was it even worse for the offender when he made her late for the Christmas get-together her cousin Elsa had planned for them all - a four night stay at a picturesque mountain cabin big enough to sleep three married couples and two singles with amenities that would keep them cozy and content over the holiday? Oh, yes.

Big. Fat. Yes.

To go with the big fat payout she needed in order to pay her portion of said holiday getaway.

Rounding another winding corner, the soft glow of the illuminated cabin stirred a strange mix of sensations in her chest; a swirl of relief at nearly being there and panic over what was awaiting her inside. Parking her bug next to the vehicles that signalled she was indeed the last to arrive, Emma fortified herself for a moment before exiting the vehicle, grabbing her bag, and marching up to the cabin as though she were about to face a firing squad.

David, her brother, and Liam, Elsa’s husband, would likely scold her with their hands firmly planted on their hips or their arms crossed tightly over their chests. The rebukes would be drowned out by David’s wife, Mary Margaret, and Elsa’ sister, Anna, who would both rush at Emma and force her into claustrophobic hugs while they expressed their worry and relief, offering Emma a blanket, a place by the fire, a plate of food, a cup of tea, all without taking a breath between them as Anna’s husband, Kristoff, tried to tell the women to let Emma breathe and get settled.

The only one who would not be making a fuss would likely already have a drink ready for her, a knowing smirk teasing his lips as he tried to stifle an eye roll at the group’s overreaction.

Killian Jones. Liam’s brother and the only other single member of their group.

Hand on the doorknob, Emma took a deep breath and opened the door to the expected chaos. And chaos there was, but… none of it seemed to be about her and her tardiness.

Elsa and David were in the kitchen. One of their phones, clearly on speaker, was held between them as they argued with whoever was on the other end of the line. Liam and Kristoff were seated at the dining table with a laptop open, the elder Jones frantically typing and clicking as Kristoff scrolled on his phone with a furrowed brow.

“There’s nothing up here that could be used as an extra one,” Anna called out from the top of the stairs. “Mary Margaret and I have looked through all the closets and checked all the furniture.”

None of them had noticed her presence yet, and she was about to say something when heavy boot falls sounded from the porch behind her.

“Ah, Swan. You arrived in one piece then?” Killian said cheekily with an arm full of firewood.

“Uh, yeah,” she replied, setting her bag down so she could help with the load he was carrying. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No worries,” he assured her, making his way to the fireplace and stacking their logs beside the hearth. “You missed the initial excitement, but you’ve made it in time to witness the spiral everyone has since descended into.” Emma glanced around the cabin at the said spiral, wondering what had set everyone off as Killian added a couple of logs to the fire, then grabbed the poker so he could stoke it. “I told them I’d make do on the couch, or even a pallet on the floor, but--”

“Sleeps ten, my ass!” Elsa shouted as she angrily hung up the call. “They swapped out the couch and forgot to update the listing!”

“What?” Emma said, but no one other than Killian seemed to have heard her, or even realized she was there.

“That’s ridiculous!” Liam bellowed. “What do they plan to do about it?”

“Can they bring an air mattress or cot?” Kristoff asked, still scrolling through his phone. “Because none of the local stores seem to have one, and even if they did, they’d be closed by the time we got back to town.”

Killian stepped away from the fire he’d coaxed back to life and into the metaphorical one building at the kitchen island where the rest of their group - save for Emma - had gathered.

“I already told you, the couch will be fine.”

“Don’t be silly, Killian,” Anna replied. “Have you seen that couch? It’s far too narrow and your feet are gonna dangle off the end.”

“Then the floor will suit me--”

“For the amount of money we spent renting this place, you are not sleeping on the floor,” Elsa declared. “I cannot believe this! How could they make a mistake like that?”

“What did the owner say?” Mary Margaret asked, setting out a platter of food she’d removed from the fridge and encouraging everyone to eat something… as though snacking would somehow fix the issue. An issue Emma still wasn’t sure was the cause of everyone’s upset.

“He won’t do anything,” Elsa snapped. “He said they had to replace the couch, which had been a sleeper, and apparently forgot to update the listing, but didn’t see the problem since we only have eight people, not ten, and there are four king size beds.”

“Didn’t you explain that there weren’t four couples, though?”

“Oh, she did,” David interjected. “But the man didn’t seem to care about anything other than getting back to his tropical Christmas vacation.”

“So what do we do?” Anna asked. “Where is Killian gonna sleep?”

“He and I can just share the bed.”

Seven heads collectively snapped in her direction, a mixture of shock and surprise being directed her way as her family, for the first time, realized she was there and then computed her words.

Words she would later blame on the fact that although no one seemed bothered by the fact she was late, she still felt the need to make up for it and therefore was compelled to offer a solution to the problem, even if said solution meant sharing a bed with a man she absolutely did not have feelings for and no one would convince her otherwise, not even her own treacherous heart, and thereby torturing herself for the next several days.

“Are you sure, love?” Killian asked, his eyes scrutinizing her, looking for any hint that she might be regretting the offer and wished to back out. “I wouldn’t want you to do anything you weren’t completely comfortable with.”

“Are you planning to make it uncomfortable for her?” David asked in his overly protective, brotherly tone. “Because I’m warning you--”

“Warning him?” Liam braced his hands against the top of the island and leaned over it, staring David down as he asked, “Are you insinuating my brother is some sort of cad who would take advantage of--”

“We all know Killian’s reputation.”

“Okay,” Emma interjected before things could escalate further. “I think you’re all forgetting that I have a reputation, too. Of being able to take care of myself. Besides, I trust Killian. We’re both adults. There’s no reason for either of us to sleep on a couch or the floor when there is a perfectly good bed, big enough for us to share. So…” She marched back over to where she’d dropped her bag and collected it as she continued on, “If you don’t mind. I’ve had a long day and all I want right now is a shower and some sleep.” Directing her gaze to Killian she asked, “Where’s your stuff?”

“It’s uh…” he began, scratching behind his ear as he furtively cast a glance towards David. “It’s on the landing.”

“Great,” she said, turning towards the stairs. “Grab it on your way up so you can settle in while I shower.”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret called out. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat or--”

“I’m fine,” Emma answered back halfway up the stairs. “I’ll see you all in the morning.” Looking over her shoulder, she saw Killian hesitate at the bottom step. “Are you coming?”

“Aye,” he answered, following after her two steps at a time and grabbing his duffle before slipping into the room behind her.

Tossing his bag onto the bed, he glanced around the room and inquired one last time, “You’re certain you’re okay with this, Swan?”

“Yes, Jones,” Emma replied in an exasperated tone she hoped masked the nerves currently coursing through her. After gathering up her toiletry items, she straightened and faced him, a thought suddenly occurring to her. “Unless… You are uncomfortable with it and would rather--”

“No, no,” he insisted, his shoulders relaxing and his usual cocky demeanor coming forward. “It’s not that,” he said in a cheeky and slightly taunting tone.

“What is it then?” Emma asked, trying hard to not be taken in by his charm as he swaggered towards her.

“Well, I seem to remember you saying something about it being a one time thing the last time we shared a bed,” he crooned, twisting a section of her hair around his finger. “Seems you’ll have to eat those words now.”

Emma wet her lips and tried to squash the delighted feeling surging through her at the way his eyes dropped to follow the motion. “Bad form bringing up our… what did you call it?” she asked in a mocking tone as she cocked her head to one side. “Our dalliance?” He winced at her terrible attempt to mimic his accent and they both chortled as she reminded him, “I thought we agreed to never speak of that night again.”

“You’re right, Swan. Bad form indeed,” he conceded in a soft timbre. “My apologies, love.”

He backed away and retreated to the other side of the room where he made himself busy unpacking his duffle. “Go ahead and shower, Swan,” he said. “I’ll hop in after you.”

“Thanks,” she threw out over her shoulder as she shut herself in the bathroom, suddenly very eager to have a bit of separation from him. From him and the memory of that night. The night they had shared a bed - and a whole lot more - with one another after copious amounts of alcohol and hours on a dance floor somewhere in the Caribbean during the cruise they’d all taken together earlier that year to celebrate Liam and Elsa’s wedding.

A memory that stubbornly refused to be cast aside, making for a very long shower - a fitful, highly inappropriate shower - especially considering the man she’d been fixated on was in the next room, waiting on her to finish so he could get naked and wet and…

Dear God, Emma. Get a grip!

Emerging from the bathroom, adorned in her pajamas with her wet hair wrapped in a towel, Emma hoped the red in her cheeks would be chalked up to the heat of the shower and not because her fantasies had gotten away from her.

“All yours,” she said, pulling her hair dryer out of her bag and plugging it into the wall at the makeshift vanity.

She combed through the wet strands as Killian hovered at the doorway to the bathroom. Pausing her actions, she stared up at him expectantly, trying not to remember what he looked like shirtless.

“About before,” he said, his voice deep with an edge of concern. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by bringing up that night, I just…” He left out a heavy breath and ran his hand through his hair. “I was just trying to bring a bit of levity to an otherwise tense situa--”

“Killian,” she said, waving him off. “It’s fine. Really. You didn’t upset me by bringing it up.” Shrugging, she tried to give off a sense of nonchalance about the whole thing. “It happened. We’ve both moved on from it. No big deal.”

“Right,” he said with a bit of a drawl. “Well… I’ll try not to take too long, so as to not keep you up.” Glancing towards the bed, he said, “I hope it’s okay that I took that side. I didn’t know if you had one you preferred.”

Emma turned to see which side he’d taken. Not that it mattered.

“Honestly,” she answered, “I don’t really have one. It’s not like I share my bed often enough with anyone to develop a preference.”

“Aye. Same,” he replied with that adorable lopsided smile of his.

Emma’s heart fluttered for several seconds after he disappeared into the bathroom. He didn’t often share his bed? Really? Like David had said earlier, Killian had a bit of a reputation as a ladies’ man. It was one of the reasons she’d pulled back after their night together; she’d hated being just another notch on his bedpost.

How many notches had he added since her, she wondered.

She had plenty of time to contemplate that question. It wasn’t until well after she’d dried her hair, set her alarm, and settled under the covers that Killian emerged from the bathroom. The last drowsy thought Emma had was whether he’d taken advantage of the memory of them together to help let off some steam whilst he was in the shower like she had. She didn’t get a chance to dwell on the thought, though. The tiring day had caught up to her and sleep took over the moment she felt the bed dip beside her.

~/~

“Morning, Emma! Sleep well?”

Anna’s voice was far too perky for the current early morning hour, causing Emma to grimace as she shuffled past the red headed woman on her way to the kitchen.

“Oh, sorry,” Anna whispered, tiptoeing behind her. “Coffee? I just brewed a fresh pot.”

“Please,” Emma grumbled, slumping down onto one of the barstools at the island. “A fresh pot? How early did you get up?”

“Mary Margaret and I got up with the guys,” she said, pouring Emma a cup, then placing it and a tray of fixings on the counter top in front of her. “We wanted to make sure they got a good meal and some coffee before they headed out.”

Emma nodded her understanding, adding enough sugar to her cup that it would have earned her a disgusted look from Killian had he been there and not out traipsing through the woods with an axe. It was an annual tradition at this point. For the past five years - ever since the Jones brothers had entered their lives through Liam and Elsa’s courtship - the guys went out on Christmas Eve morning and cut down a tree for them to decorate. While they were out finding the perfect specimen, Mary Margaret would lead - or in Emma’s case, berate - the girls in making the decorations. The guys would join in once they got back and set up the tree, and the day would be spent stringing popcorn or dried oranges or cranberries for garland as well as attempting to avoid tiny cuts from the origami-esque construction of paper or cardboard ornaments.

There were also snacks and cocktails, the occasional break from crafting to watch a Christmas movie or play a game. Of course, every year, Emma and Killian would insist they watch Die Hard, which Mary Margaret would dismiss as not being a Christmas movie and an argument would ensue - mostly because it gave both Emma and Killian a perverse sense of pleasure to rile up Mary Margaret. Not that they didn’t love the movie or wholeheartedly believe that it was, in fact, a Christmas movie.

“Oh, Emma! You’re up!” Mary Margaret set down a stack of boxes on the island, the contents of which held various crafting supplies no doubt. “Did you get some breakfast?”

Emma shook her head and waved off the woman’s attempt to feed her. “Not yet,” she said. “I’ll get something after I’m sufficiently caffeinated.”

“Well drink up,” Mary Margaret ordered as she began to retreat back into the room she and David were using. “We need to get going on these decorations.”

A moment later she returned with several sacks and with Anna’s help, began organizing the supplies. Emma took that as her cue to find another place to enjoy her coffee.

Glancing out the French doors that led to the back deck she caught sight of a platinum blonde braid. Emma grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders before joining Elsa in the peace and quiet of the mountain morning.

“Hey,” she said, pulling Elsa’s attention away from the view. “Mind if I join you?”

“Please do,” Elsa replied, making room on the bench. “Do you want me to turn on the heater?”

It shouldn’t have surprised Emma that her cousin hadn’t already started the propane heater. The cold had never seemed to bother her like it did Emma.

“No, I’ve got it.” Emma cranked up the heat then sat down, snuggling into the blanket she’d brought out with her.

“Sleep okay?” Elsa asked. “Any problems with the room?”

“No,” Emma answered, taking a sip of her coffee before adding, “The room’s great. Very comfortable.”

“Good,” Elsa said, turning her attention back towards the snowy mountain view. “And sharing with Killian? That, uh… Did that go okay?”

Emma rolled her eyes and hid her knowing smirk behind her mug. “It was fine,” she replied.

“I mean, I’m sure Killian was a gentleman, I just hate that the two of you have to endure this awkwardness when I did my best to--”

“Elsa,” Emma interrupted. “It isn’t your fault, and we will make do. It’s fine. Really.”

The icy blonde’s shoulders relaxed and a puff of exhaled air lingered at her lips for a moment before she said, “Good. I’m glad.” With a furtive glance in Emma’s direction she muttered, “Let’s just hope David thinks it's all fine.”

“I’m a big girl,” Emma reminded her cousin. “David will get over it.”

“I don’t know,” Elsa replied in a sing-song tone. “He was looking pretty hostile this morning when Killian sauntered down the stairs with a whistle on his lips. I’m pretty sure Liam made sure to be the one who took the axe when they left.”

The two women shared a chuckle, both of them knowing full well there was no danger of the men resorting to violence, even if they did bluster a bit.

“I’m sure Killian is reveling in the opportunity to needle David, but I trust Liam to make sure cooler heads prevail.”

“And his needling wouldn’t have any elements of truth in it, right?” Elsa inquired, not so subtly.

Emma sighed exasperatedly. “No,” she stated adamantly. “Nothing happened, and nothing is going to happen.”

She shifted uncomfortably under Elsa’s scrutiny, her piercing blue eyes cutting through her assertions as she hummed a dubious sound.

“If you say so.”

Emma was about to double down on her words, but was cut off by Anna’s sudden appearance.

“Everything is ready! Come make decorations with us!”

Emma and Elsa shared a resigned look then followed Anna back into the cabin, after shutting off the heater, of course. The ladies then spent the next hour or so making handmade decorations whilst also prepping food items for the upcoming meals.

When the guys returned, Emma stayed out of the way. She’d learned from years past to just let David, Liam, Mary Margaret, and Elsa duke it out on the best way to set up the tree. While the four of them conferenced in the living room, she joined Anna in the kitchen, who was busy making everyone a hot cocoa.

“Need a hand?”

“Yes, please!”

The two women filled and garnished mugs of hot cocoa while every so often peeking outside to watch Kristoff and Killian clean up the tree. Once it was suitable for indoors - and they’d gotten the final word of where to set it up - the men brought it inside and secured it in the stand. Everyone stood back to admire the magnificent find as Emma and Anna handed out the beverages.

“Jones,” Emma said, offering him a hot cup as she came to stand beside him.

“Thank you, love,” he replied, slightly out of breath. A half-smile pulled at his lips and crinkled at the corner of his eyes when he noticed she’d adorned his in the same manner as hers - with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon. It was how she’d always taken her cocoa and slowly but surely she was converting the rest of their group to do the same.

“It’s a great looking tree,” she commented, sipping her hot chocolate nonchalantly so he wouldn’t read too much into her compliment.

“Aye,” he said, taking another long look at the fruit of his and the other men’s labor. A fruit that was quickly filling the living room with a pungent pine scent that tickled Emma’s sinuses. “And what of your efforts?” he asked, turning his attention onto her. “Care to show me what you lasses have been working on and how I might assist?”

Emma rolled her eyes and led him to the dining table where he prompted her to give him a demonstration of the crafting. Soon, the others joined them and the day went on just as Emma knew it would: completing the decorations, stringing lights and garlands, decorating the tree, gorging themselves on a big meal, partaking in snacks, then some drinks, then some more drinks, and arguing over then watching several Christmas themed movies and shows. Unfortunately, no Die Hard.

“You know, Swan,” Killian whispered in her ear as everyone began to disperse from the living room to turn in for the night. “We have a TV with streaming services in our room…”

The feel of his breath against the shell of her ear, as well as the way he said ‘our room’ sent a thrill up her spine.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice.

Was it fortunate?

“Your point?” she said, her voice a little too breathy, but maybe he’d think it was because they’d just climbed the steep steps to the second floor.

“My point,” he continued, following her into their - THE - room, “is once we’ve showered and readied ourselves, we can watch Die Hard in bed and celebrate the season properly.”

“Sounds like a plan, Jones,” she replied, even as her heart skipped a few beats at the reminder they’d both be taking turns getting naked and wet with only a flimsy door that did not lock between them.

Ever the gentleman, Killian let her go first. While he took his turn, she busied herself with getting ready for bed, queuing up the movie, and adding an extra blanket to the stack of covers. In no time, they were settled on their respective sides of the bed, enjoying watching John McClane run around Nakatomi Plaza barefoot whilst being a ‘fly in the ointment’ to Hans Gruber.

They both barely remained conscious, but somehow got to the credits before crashing. The constant recitation of dialogue probably helped.

At some point in the night, a rustling sound in the corner of the room stirred Emma. Instinctively, she reached over to feel for Killian, only to find his side of the bed empty.

“Killian?” she croaked out, his name heavy on her tongue from sleep. “What are you--”

“The heat went out,” he told her, making her aware of her own shivering and the frigid air of the room. “Elsa is having kittens over it,” he went on to explain. “Giving the owner a right earful as we speak.”

A low hum and soft glow began to fill the room. Killian stood and visibly shook himself before heading back to bed.

“What’s that?” Emma asked, shifting in bed and moving closer to the middle.

“Space heater,” Killian answered, still shivering from the cold. “The owner relented and gave us the code to the storage closet. There were a few of these in there.”

Emma hummed in response, her mind weighing whether to bring up the idea of--

“Swan?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind if we… that is,” he hedged, clearing his throat. “Until the heater manages to raise the temperature, would you be okay if we…”

“Sure,” she said, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically as she scooted closer to him.

“Thank you, love,” he murmured, his chest already plastered against her back and his face buried in the crook of her neck.

Emma moaned in relief, the heat of his body already warming her and staying the chills that had made her tense. In an effort to find a comfortable position for her legs - without entangling them with his - she rocked her hips back into his and felt…

“Bloody hell,” Killian grumbled in an embarrassed tone as he pulled away. “Apologies, Swan. I didn’t intend--”

“Killian,” she laughed, rolling over to face him. “It’s fine. It happens. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“I just don’t want you to think I have ulterior motives for suggesting--”

“I don’t,” she assured him. “I know guys can’t always control… that.”

“Well, I am usually much more in control of such things, I assure you.”

“I’m sure you are,” she said in an appeasing tone, earning her a side-eyed glare. “Seriously, though,” she continued, trying to coax him back to her. “Your morning wood doesn’t offend me, so will you please come back here.”

He relented after some not so gentle tugging, and a moment later they were once again entwined in the other’s arms.

“Mmmm,” Emma hummed, nestling a bit further into his chest. “How are you always so warm? I feel like I’m always cold.”

As Emma drifted off to sleep she was certain she heard him say, “I know, love. But I’ll always be here for you when you need to keep warm.”

Part Two - Coming Soon!

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

@kmomof4 @jrob64 @zaharadessert @laianely @booksteaandtoomuchtv

@the-darkdragonfly @undercaffinatednightmare @killianxswan @mie779 @motherkatereloyshipper

@jennjenn615 @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @superchocovian @caught-in-the-filter

@winterbaby89 @wyntereyez @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @gingerchangeling

@exhaustedpirate @cocohook38 @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda @teamhook

@jackieorioncat @paradiselady19 @snowbellewells @earanemith @ultraluckycatnd

@pirateherokillian @calmjoonie @unworried-corsair @tiganasummertree @captainswan-kellie

@soniccat @kday426 @djlbg @fairytalepretzkle @maggiegreenvt

@natascha-ronin @ilovemesomekillianjones @iamstartraveller776 @deckerstarblanche @shadowsaur

@qualitycoffeethings @idristardis @phoenix-untamed @bluewildcatfanatic @bananachickens

#cs ff #csff #cs fic #csfic #cs au #captain swan #csss2024 #cs holiday #words by hollye

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laianely · 17 days ago

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The Words

Merry Christmas @colinoeyebrows !

I'm your Secret Santa for @cssecretsanta2020 this year! I was very excited to get your name, as it was just recently when we had our introduction and conversation on IG 😉 I hope you like the edit I created for you! I tried to combine scenes and outfits that you like and make coloring with shades of your favorite color. I had to make this post again because of tumblr glitch (it just cut out quite long pert of this edit, and I don't know why it happened), but now it's complete here)

Tag people who may be interested: @killianxswan @teamhook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @caught-in-the-filter @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd @qualitycoffeethings @deckerstarblanche

#captain swan #cssecretsanta2024 #cssecretsanta #csss #csss2024 #emma swan #killian jones #laianely's edits

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eastwesthomeisbest · 18 days ago

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Swear I feel you in my memory

I think I've seen you in my dreams...

.......................................................................................

And my next gift for @cosette141 as CS Secret Santa! ( @cssecretsanta2020 )

#cs secret santa #csss2024 #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #emma x killian #killian x emma #captain killian jones #emma swan jones #cs christmas #cs xmas

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cosette141 · 17 days ago

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You, Me, and Who You Used to Be | CS Fic (CSSS 2024 Gift for BelovedCreation)

Merry Christmas!!

I'm your Santa this year!! :) 🎄🎄

Using your prompts of pining, Enchanted Forest, and angst with a happy ending, I give you:

Summary: (CS movie divergence) After getting her parents back on track, Emma’s magic returns. But before she can conjure a portal home, Killian is abducted. Alone in a world she knows nothing about and with no idea how to find Killian, Emma enlists the only person—or rather, pirate—who would be as motivated to save Killian as she is. However… Killian’s past may just be what destroys the future. CS

AO3

Words (so far): 5k+

NOTE: This is currently only the first chapter of this fic - long story short, the fic I spent weeks on just was not coming together, so I last minute changed to this one. It was an idea I had written the beginning of years ago that I remembered when I was trying to find something to align with the prompts you gave me :D so I knew it would be perfect to write for your gift!! I spent the past week working super hard on this trying to get it finished for you in time, but it was getting so rushed and you do not deserve a rushed gift!! So I decided to give you the first 5k words now, and I'll be updating it with the rest over the coming weeks! :)

Chapter One (under the cut!)

A/N: Story context: This is a canon divergence of the CS movie, which begins right after Emma gets the wand from Rumplestiltskin. (He does not send him to his vault of do-not-touch things in this version tho. We’ll pretend Elsa gets to Storybrooke some other way lol. I’ll also be ignoring Marian, which, the show pretty much did when it just ended up being Zelena anyway lol.

Emma smiled at the faintly glowing wand in her fingers, feeling the warmth of the return of her magic, lighting a glow in the vast dining room of Rumplestiltskin’s castle.

Everything was back on track.

Including herself.

Perhaps she had been trying to take the easy way out, blocking her magic from returning so she could go back to New York with no ties left behind.

But more than anything, it was Killian’s smile now that made the warmth inside her grow even more, and if it wasn’t her imagination, made the wand spark a little brighter.

“It works,” whispered Emma, staring at the wand in awe, eyes snapping to Killian. “My magic is back!”

“I knew you could do it, love.” said Killian softly, a relief in his eyes, like it was for both the possibility of getting back home, and for the fact that he still blamed himself for her powers being taken in the first place.

“Ah, the Savior, of course,” murmured Rumplestiltskin from his perch on the edge of his dining table. “I should have known you would have magic of your own.”

Emma suddenly realized just how much Rumplestiltskin knew. “Is it a problem that you know…?”

“It would be,” he agreed, but lifted his hand, where a potion bottle materialized. “However, I have spent the past few hours mixing myself a Forgetting Potion.”

Emma smiled. “Good. Well, let’s do this, then.” She then lifted the wand, about to attempt to bring forth the time portal.

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Rumplestiltskin, jumping down and pushing her hand with the wand down. “Not in here. You might bring any number of my possessions with you.”

Emma winced, eyes finding the myriad of scary-looking things in the castle, wondering just how catastrophic that could be.

She looked from Killian’s raised eyebrow to Rumplestiltskin. “So where do we—“

But not a second later, Rumplestiltskin’s castle was gone, and suddenly they were outside. Trees, greenery and blue sky replaced the walls of the Dark One’s abode. They weren’t too far from the town below, and not far off was the sea. But they were in an empty enough area of the forest that no one should see anything, and nothing should come with them.

“Well,” said Killian, giving her another smile, “ready, there, Swan?”

Emma nodded. She lifted the wand again, concentrating on her magic, on the emotion in her chest, bright and raw. The tiny flicker of a portal, like a zipper drawn in the very fabric of the air, appeared before them.

Killian grinned. “That’s it, lo—”

He was cut off with a grunt, and Emma’s eyes snapped to him, her concentration broken and the tiny beginnings of the portal fizzled back out of existence.

Emma’s heart stopped.

They were no longer alone.

A burly, muscled man had his arm around Killian’s neck in a chokehold, his other arm pinning Killian’s left arm to his side. Killian let out an angry, surprised snarl, jerking hard against the grip.

“Hook!” cried Emma, jamming the wand in her back pocket to hide it and running toward him, only skidding to a stop when three other thugs suddenly flanked the first.

“Sw—“ began Killian, his right hand scrabbling at the hold around his neck, but his airway was quickly cut off. Red rushed to his face, and Emma’s heart froze.

“Sorry, darlin’,” said the man’s raspy voice. “We got direct orders to bring Captain Hook in. He stole from us last night, and now he gon’ pay. Pretty stupid to show yer face in the open like this, without yer crew, no less.” A dark chuckle. “Shoulda sailed away when he had the chance.” To someone behind him, he shouted, “Lucky catch, men!”

Killian struggled against them, something angry and feral, landing a blow to the man's gut. The man growled and stumbled, and Killian reared back to hit him again until the man snapped, “Stop fightin’ or the wench dies!” That made Killian freeze, staring at her with icy horror.

For a moment, Emma and Killian stared at each other, and it felt like time stood still.

Panic rushed through Emma's chest.

Magic.

But she had no idea how to use her magic.

And if she took even a step forward, she'd get a sword through her in seconds.

Killian grunted as a second thug grabbed him on his other side, ripping Killian's sword from his sheath.

Panic rose even sharper in Emma's chest.

Killian swallowed, eyes locked onto her. “Go—home,” Killian managed, his eyes pleading and broken, with something in them that looked like goodbye, only making Emma’s eyes burn.

“Hook—!” breathed Emma, running for him, but froze when three swords pointed in her direction, so close to her it made her stumble back, falling to the ground.

And by the time she made it back to her feet, they were gone.

-.-.-.

Dark had fallen.

The air had chilled.

But none of it gave her the cold dread inside her chest.

She’d searched for hours.

But those men obviously knew this forest better than she did, and it was easy to get lost in it.

Too easy.

She let them take him.

Emma kicked herself.

She should have done something.

She should have been spending all the time back in Storybrooke learning magic instead of shoving it away.

Because now Killian was gone, and it was all her fault.

She got them stuck in the past.

She was the reason Killian stopped trying to free himself from those bastards.

She was the reason that they may never see each other again.

Emma couldn’t stop seeing his eyes.

The resignation.

The defeat.

The horrible, utter sadness.

She was now alone, and she’d never felt this alone in her entire life.

It was one thing to grow up being alone.

And it was another thing entirely to find people, to fall for people, and to have them ripped from you.

It was an entirely different thing to know what it felt like to not be alone.

And ever since meeting Killian, more or less after he decided to become a part of something , he’d been practically glued to her side. He’d voluntarily gone back to the land he hated more than anywhere, he’d given up his revenge, he’d found her in freaking New York City —an endeavor Emma still didn’t know how he managed to do—and how he managed to find her in a world he knew hardly anything about?

Emma stopped on the path, feeling the chill of the air.

Even the air felt different in the Enchanted Forest. It felt… unearthly, which, wasn’t exactly off point. The magic in the land seemed to crackle like a charged atmosphere. The animal sounds, the nightly coos and caws were different, and all this different was unsettling and…

She really, really didn’t want to admit she was scared.

But Emma didn’t have Mary Margaret with her this time. She didn’t have a princess squad to help her through. And, she didn’t have Hook.

Killian, who was god knew where.

He might even already be—

No , said a firm voice in her head, trying to quell the hair that raised on the back of her neck at the thought. They wouldn’t have kidnapped him if they were going to be quick about it.

The idea of him suffering at all…

Emma swallowed, hard, trying to shove down the rush of panic that shook her fingers.

How the hell was she supposed to find him?

She was a complete outsider.

She not only wasn’t from this town, she wasn’t from this world , and she wasn’t from this time, not by a long shot.

She was trapped thirty years in the past, and Killian could be anywhere.

“Go home.”

Emma shut her eyes at Killian’s echo.

Go home.

He wanted her to go home.

He wanted her to leave him here, conjure the portal, and go home.

The very fact that he thought she would made her chest hurt, because how could he think she’d leave him here?

But…

“You really thought I’d let you drown?”

“Given our history, can you blame me for being uncertain? ”

Here she was thinking how he could possibly think she didn’t care about him, when…

“Do you even care about them? Or anyone in this town?”

He said anyone.

He meant me.

And replaying it all, how could she think he’d know she did?

All she’s done since he saved her in New York, was walk away from him.

But she did care.

She more than cared.

And now, she may never —

No.

Emma opened her eyes, ignoring the burn in them.

Determination set into her face, Emma made up her mind without hesitation.

There was no way she was leaving here without Killian.

The thought of returning to life without him, living without him…

It felt wrong.

Something about him in her life just made sense. Even now, she felt like something was missing, and suddenly she was wondering how she ever considered leaving her family, leaving him, to go back to New York.

“Go home.”

She couldn’t go home when he already became her home.

But…

How on earth—or, how in the Enchanted Forest—was she supposed to find him?

And before they did something terrible and irreversible to him?

“He stole from us last night. Now he’s gon' pay.”

Emma blinked.

Killian didn’t steal anything from anyone; she knew he hadn’t. He’d been too concerned with messing up the time continuum.

He hadn’t stolen.

But Emma had a pretty good feeling who had.

And Killian was currently paying for his crime.

Emma smiled grimly, a plan unfolding in her head.

She started walking, faster this time.

She just hoped the Jolly Roger was still in port.

-.-.-.

Emma clung to the shadows when she entered the town.

Thanks to Rumplestiltskin returning her clothes, she was no longer wearing the ragged dress and cloak that they had stolen, and was back in her jeans and leather jacket. Something that, Killian’s voice reminded her, hasn’t come into vogue, ever. So… she had to be careful. They just fixed the timeline; they cannot ruin it all over again.

But Killian was worth that risk.

As she clung to the dark areas of town, Emma was reminded of a younger her, living on the streets, dodging shadowy corners to pitch black alleyways. It was evening, the sky blackening with an array of stars, but the town still bustled with life, mostly around the taverns.

Emma passed the tavern she and Killian had found his past-self in, and Emma risked a look inside, but he wasn’t there.

Her heart quickening, Emma suddenly worried he wasn’t even in town.

She picked up her pace, following the path past-Hook had led her down when he’d been her inebriated guide.

Emma emerged from the cover of an alley, looking up to see the sea, and ships of all sizes moored at the docks. And among them—

Emma felt relief flood her.

The Jolly Roger.

She smiled despite herself, picking up her pace. As she got closer, she could see the crew retracting the anchor—

They were leaving.

Her heart pounding, Emma began to sprint.

With grunts of heaving, two members of the Jolly’s crew were lifting the gangplank.

It was halfway up when Emma got to it, flinging herself off the dock and onto it, barely making the jump. She slid down the wood, landing in a heap on the deck.

“What in the blazes—?!”

The two men nearly dropped the gangplank, but managed to finish shutting it, faster, as if worrying that someone else was going to attempt Emma’s jump.

Her entire body throbbing from the mistreatment, Emma slowly picked herself up from the deck. She quickly noticed at least a dozen pirates were staring at her in shock.

But a voice broke through the din, and Emma would recognize it anywhere.

“Well, you don’t bloody see something like that every day.”

-.-.-.

Despite her protests, Emma had been manhandled by two of the crew members and dragged into the Captain’s Quarters a moment after she’d seen him. He’d witnessed her reckless jump onto his ship, but hadn’t said a word to her yet.

She was currently in the chair opposite his desk, two burly hands on her shoulders keeping her pinned down, and Hook was in his chair behind the desk, staring at her in silence.

“What are you doing aboard my ship?” he said finally.

Emma flicked her eyes to the pirate holding her down, then back to Hook. “I’ll tell you, but only you.”

Hook sighed, then flicked his eyes to the man behind her, giving a minute nod and a slight roll of his eyes. Then, when the door clicked shut, he gave her a pointed look.

Emma let out a breath, her heart beating in a frenzy. This Hook was not half as drunk as he was when they last met. His gaze on her was cold and measured and there was no trace of the softness Killian had now. It unnerved her, this air of danger he held, sitting before her. Waiting.

But Emma swallowed, trying to remember, this is still Killian. Just… buried under two hundred years of pain and resentment.

It didn’t make her feel better.

“I need your help.” said Emma at last, holding his gaze.

His brow lifted, like that was the last thing he’d expected her to say. “My help?” he echoed, lips twisting a little in amusement. “I’m a pirate captain, lass. You’ve mistaken me for someone who gives. Pirates take.”

Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the irony that all he’s done the past two years was give.

Worry fluttered in her stomach, suddenly wondering if her Killian was all right.

And when did he start being ‘her’ Killian?

Emma let out another breath. “Yeah, that’s actually what brings me here. All I need to know,” said Emma slowly, “is who you stole from last night.”

She’d thought it through; if she could just get the name or the place of the person who he’d stolen from, she could go find Killian without Hook ever needing to know she was from the future.

Hook paused.

Suspicion suddenly gleamed in his eyes.

He stood, and rounded his desk until he was standing before her.

The suspicion only deepened in his eyes.

Emma could feel the danger radiate off him like a cologne.

She was trying not to shrink under his intense gaze when he leaned even closer, his face inches from hers. He searched her eyes.

“You,” he whispered. “I remember you.”

Emma’s heart skipped. “You do?” she breathed.

She should have known it was irrational to think he meant he remembered knowing her.

Because his eyes narrowed, coldness in the blue. “You owe me a nightcap, love.”

Emma froze. “Oh,” she said, biting her lip. “Didn’t blame the rum, huh?”

He leaned back slightly, but looked no less predatory. “I’m guessing this is from you as well,” he said, brushing the metal of his hook to his cheek where Killian had hit him.

Emma winced. “Not exactly—“

He was suddenly in her face again, eyes narrowed, colder than ice. “You were trying to get me drunk. To get on my ship,” he muttered. “Why?”

Oops.

Emma tried to think fast.

She did not like a version of Killian that scared her, and this one did exactly that.

As if to prove the point, he raised his hook, tracing her jaw until the tip was underneath her chin, forcing her head up. Emma gasped reflexively, suddenly realizing how bad of an idea this had been. “Tell me,” he hissed, “or this will be rather unpleasant.”

Emma swallowed, trying to stem the rush of fear. To hell with the timeline. “I’m from the future.”

His brow rose sharply, surprise and a little confusion slipping into that cold expression. Clearly time travel was not one of the things he’d expected her to say.

It was the second time she’d surprised him, and Emma knew he wasn’t an easily surprised man.

Before he could interrupt, she went on, wincing as the sharp tip of his hook stung. “I’m telling you the truth,” she said quickly, fear sending a shiver down her spine. “I’m from… about thirty years in the future. I think. It’s really hard to keep track with all the curses," she finished, which even to her ears sounded like she was crazy.

“Time travel is unheard of.” said Hook, dismissing her whole story.

"You spend two hundred years on an island where time doesn't even exist and this is too crazy for you to imagine?" snapped Emma exasperatedly.

He ignored her. “Now, what are you really doing on my ship? Clearly if you’d gotten what you wanted, you wouldn’t have been daft enough to return.” His eyes looked her up and down, his brow lifting when his eyes reached hers, and Emma glared at him. “And if I had gotten what I wanted, that night would not have ended with you injuring me.” A cold smile. “Well, not in the traditional way, anyway.”

Emma huffed out a breath, almost forgetting just how innuendo-clad he once was. “Look, I’m telling the truth . I need your help to—“ She gasped, the tip of his hook digging slightly deeper.

“You will tell me what I want to know,” said Hook quietly. He removed his namesake, and Emma winced. “I’ll give you the night to think it over. Lie to me again," his voice lowering, dipping into the personification of danger as his gaze bored into hers, and she tried not to shrink under it, "you’ll be walking the plank in the morning.” He moved away from her, and Emma realized she'd forgotten how to breathe.

“Hook—“ began Emma, but Hook simply barked, “Jenkins!”

The door opened, and one of the men who had dragged her down here walked inside.

“Take her to the brig.”

Emma’s heart pounded. “No— Hook,” she said quickly as he sat nonchalantly back at his desk. “I need—“

Emma was grabbed from behind and forced out.

He didn’t look up as they took her.

But when he thought she was out of sight, she saw him briefly touch his fingers to his lips, something unreadable stirring in his eyes.

-.-.-.-.

Emma waited until she was left alone, and the ship had quieted down enough to suggest the crew was asleep.

They’d bound her hands in front of her, which was their first mistake.

Feeling a sense of deja vu, Emma felt along the ground until she found something useful. Finding something sharp and thin enough to work, she quickly got to work on the lock to the cage.

The trouble was opening the door without it creaking, which took her plenty of precious minutes.

Once free, she left the brig, and quietly made her way to the armory.

It was good that she was familiar with the ship after Neverland. Plenty of hours on the water had her nervous energy getting the better of herself and she’d done some extensive exploring. She’d paced the ship enough to know where its creaky boards were, so she was inside the armory in silence quickly.

Emma grabbed the first blade she could find—a knife—and freed her hands, then took the gag from her mouth.

Gripping the knife in her shaking hands, Emma left the armory, walking down the hallway to the door at the very end.

The Captain’s Quarters.

Feeling plenty of uncertainty, but needing to know where Killian was, Emma slowly reached for the door handle, glad the ridiculously loud chorus of snoring from the crew covered much of the noise she made.

Slowly and without breathing, she opened his door.

Emma shut it just as quietly, and the noise of the snoring was muted.

Emma turned.

The cabin was dark.

And there, lying on his bed, was Hook. Asleep.

She could see him breathe beneath the blanket.

Carefully, and avoiding every creak in the floor she knew of, Emma crept up to his bed.

Then, she held the knife an inch from his throat, opening her mouth to wake him.

“Do I need to explain what a nightcap is to you?”

Emma jumped a mile in her skin.

Hook’s eyes were open, and he looked from the knife at his throat to Emma. A raised brow, he deadpanned, “You escaped.”

“You underestimated me.” she countered. He lifted his brow as Emma continued firmly, “I need you to help me.”

“Help me?” he echoed. His eyes flicked from the knife to her eyes. “You’re taking your life in your hands threatening me, lass.” he said dangerously.

“I’m trying to save your life!” snapped Emma.

His brow hitched higher, again flicking his eyes pointedly to the blade, then back at her.

Emma sighed, removing the knife from his throat.

He still didn’t move, eyeing her still suspiciously. “How is it you think you’re saving me?” he asked.

Emma sighed shortly. “Look. I told you I was from the future. I am. I’m from your future. And I didn’t get sent to the past alone.” She took a breath, hoping telling him wouldn’t implode the timeline. But she was scared, she was alone, and without his information, she would never be able to find Killian. She could only hope that after she saved Killian, he’d still exist when they returned to their time.

Emma sighed. “When I got sent here, you came with me.” she said finally.

Confusion kneaded his brows with honest puzzlement, and for the first time he looked almost like her Killian. “I… what?” he managed.

Emma sighed shortly. “You— future you,” clarified Emma. “You’re here, in the past, too.”

Hook looked lost in thought for a second. Then— “That was bloody real?”

“What was?” asked Emma.

He sat up, regarding her with both suspicion and shock. “The dream I thought I had of you, up until you foolishly returned.” Emma glared at him flatly as he went on, “I saw…”

“Yourself,” finished Emma impatiently. “Yeah. You punched yourself.” At his very perplexed expression, she went on, “I told him—you—it was a bad idea. So, blame yourself.” He blinked in utter confusion. But, at least, he seemed to believe her story. “Look,” said Emma, “we were on our way back to the future when some huge guys kidnapped him because they said he stole something and he needed to ‘pay for it’.” she finished in a bad facsimile of Killian’s abductor’s voice. Her eyes burning into Hook’s, she said, “What did you steal? Who are they and where did they take him?”

“You’re telling me,” said Hook slowly, “that there is a future version of me out here?”

“Yes,” said Emma through gritted teeth. “Now what did you—“

“Tell me, love,” said Hook casually enough, though the coldness in his words was back. “What is my future?”

“I can’t tell you that,” she said exasperatedly. “Already I need to get you a Forgetting Potion to make sure you get to that future.”

He stared at her for a long moment, a million things happening behind guarded eyes. But finally, his brow lifted a fraction. “And I’m just supposed to believe this?"

Emma groaned. “What proof do you want?” she said impatiently. “Your father abandoned you and Liam; you used to be in the Royal Navy; you became a pirate after what happened to Liam in Neverland; you’re currently on a suicidal mission to kill Rumplestiltskin for taking your hand and Mila—“

“Stop!”

Emma froze, having been angrily ticking off the trivia on her fingers, to see Hook’s eyes with more emotion than she’s seen from this version of him yet.

“How do you know all that?” he breathed. For once, his voice lost Hook’s edge, and he sounded like Killian. The danger evaporated from him in seconds, replaced with something almost... lost. “It’s—it's been centuries since—"

“You told me.” said Emma simply.

“I… told you,” repeated Hook flatly, words rolling off his tongue like something foreign. The edge in his voice swiftly returned as he demanded angrily, “And why the bloody hell would I do that?”

“How should I know?” snapped Emma, her anxiety getting to her and sharpening her own tone.

He rose to his feet, and Emma did not like the feeling that he was attempting to use his height over hers to intimidate her. He leveled a look at her, with something different in his eyes, something dangerous in a new way. “Tell me one thing, lass," he began, voice casual-sounding, but underlined with something that sent a shiver down her spine, "and maybe I help you.”

“Why wouldn’t you help me?” exclaimed Emma, standing her ground. “You’d be helping you!”

“That remains to be seen.” He stepped toward her, and damn it he didn’t even need the hook to be imposing. “Tell me, lass.” Another step, and Emma felt her back hit the wall, not even realizing she’d been retreating. His gaze bored into hers. “Do I get my revenge?”

Emma swallowed, suddenly feeling a familiar sense of dread as to when the past version of Rumplestiltskin had asked about whether or not he found Neal.

When the silence spread a little too long, she whispered, “Hook—”

“Do I, or not?” he demanded, voice clipped. Cold.

Dangerous.

Emma felt paralyzed.

The Hook—the Killian —standing before her was completely hellbent on getting his revenge. He’s been at it for centuries, and the anger and pain in his eyes overpowered the blue in them, so much so it was hard to remember that Killian and Hook were the same person.

And here, Hook was his vengeance right now.

There was hardly a spark of him.

If she told him the truth, that he not only doesn’t kill his crocodile, but chooses to live peacefully in the same town as the monster? Gives up not only his quest for vengeance, but turns into a hero?

And worse yet, that he lets go of Milah?

For her?

From the amount of anger she’s eliciting from him right now, she doubted he’d be happy to know that information in particular.

So, she decided to tell him the truth.

Or…

Part of it.

“No,” she said finally, watching his brow shift dangerously. “Not yet.”

He searched her eyes, his face like stone. “Not yet?” he repeated, voice low, almost threatening.

Emma swallowed the fear slipping down her spine, hoping she was still as good of a liar as she once was. “Not yet,” she confirmed, which, still, wasn’t a complete lie. She took a breath, holding his gaze, preparing herself.

And she lied.

“I’m helping you get your revenge in the future,” she said smoothly. “The Dark One is currently living in a realm without magic. He’s vulnerable. I’m helping you get there.” She swallowed, her entire body rigid. Hook was pin-silent as Emma finished, “We accidentally got sent to the past on our way there. That’s why I need you to help me. If you don’t, you will never get your revenge.”

Emma fell quiet, holding her head high, clinging onto confidence she didn’t feel in the slightest.

Killian could read her like an open book.

If this version of him was as perceptive as he comes to be…

If he found her lying to him…

Again …

Emma tried to ignore the fear prickling in her veins.

He held her gaze, pinning her to the spot with his eyes alone. Watching her eyes carefully, his narrowed.

Finally, he said, “Why are you helping me?”

Emma tried not to flinch at the obvious distaste in his voice. She thought fast, and found something that held nothing but truth. “Because,” she said, “you did me a favor. I’m repaying a debt.”

His brow lifted. “Quite the debt.”

Emma felt something stir in her chest, thinking of all that Killian has done for her. “It was quite the favor,” she said quietly.

His brows kneaded with question, like he wasn’t sure why he would bother to do her a favor.

Emma was quickly becoming irritated with this version of Hook.

“How are you helping me?” he asked then, gaze boring into hers, almost as if he was trying to poke holes into her story to see if it would leak. “Why do I need you?”

It was spoken so carelessly.

And it hurt.

Emma was surprised at the sudden burn behind her eyes.

She’d brushed off Killian’s affections, his obvious devotion to her, more times than she could count.

And here he was, looking at her like he couldn’t have cared about her less.

How could she have wasted all the time she had with him?

Getting him back now was the longest of long shots, for—and it made sharp fear race down her spine— he could already be dead.

Blinking away the emotion, Emma huffed out a breath, trying not to appear as hurt by his words as she was. “I’ve got Light Magic,” she snapped, making surprise lift his brow. “You’re trying to kill the Dark One. Do the math.”

He stared at her for a long moment, eyes narrowed, danger rolling off him in waves.

Finally, he spoke.

“I help you, and, him,” he muttered, uneasily over what to call his future self, “get back to your time,” he said slowly, “and then I will get what I want most?”

Emma felt the ghost of a smile touch her lips, for she didn’t have to lie for this one. “Yes.”

He most definitely will.

-.-.-.-. TBC

@belovedcreation-kitr-headcanon @cssecretsanta2020 @belovedcreation

#csss2024 #captain swan #secret santa #emma swan #killian jones #captain hook #emma and hook #cs #cs ff #cs fic #fanfic #fanfiction #once upon a time #ouat

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snowbellewells · 17 days ago

Text

CS Secret Santa 2024 Gift Fic: "Christmas Getaway With You" for @stevebcks

I am sorry that it is so late on Christmas night for your present @stevebcks! But yes, I have been your Santa this year. I have really enjoyed chatting with you and getting to know someone I hadn't ever met or gotten to talk with yet in this fandom. I hope you will still enjoy this, even though it is later than I had hoped. I also hope that this Christmas has been a great one for you and that you've truly enjoyed the warmth and joy of the holiday.

You gave me so many great ideas in your answers to my asks, and I tried to work in several of them - giving Emma and Killian more time together in their happily married everyday life, giving a glimpse of them raising their daughter, getting to see them celebrate the holiday, and to visit New York again together. I even attempted to sneak Merlin into the story (at least a playful nod to him!)

Without further hesitating, here's your story!!

“Christmas Getaway With You”

By: @snowbellewells

“Emma, for the last time, Love, you’ve checked everything twice! We’re all ready to set sail.” Killian’s gentle tone of affectionate exasperation finally served to snap Emma from ducking back into the kitchen to be absolutely certain that the door into the mudroom and their backyard beyond was secure and that the coffeemaker was indeed unplugged from the wall for what was at least the third time. Shaking her head at her own anxious dithering, she leaned into his side when he wrapped his arm around her, bringing her to a standstill in the entryway. Killian’s steadying presence soothed her frazzled nerves, just as he always did - no matter what the problem, and she thrilled at the sensation of the smooth curve of his hook rubbing back and forth lightly over her hip, the simple gesture somehow lulling in its familiarity.

“You’re right, Babe,” Emma breathed out as she looked up at him with a grateful smile. “I’m acting crazy and I’m not even sure why.”

“Nonsense, I wouldn’t necessarily call you crazy. Any pirate worth his - or her - “ here he waggled an eyebrow and gave his wife a knowing wink, “salt, knows well enough to properly safeguard the treasure.”

Emma snickered at that and pulled away, but this time she finally moved toward the door, as had been her original intention. Reaching to the coat rack whether her favorite leather jacket and beanie hung waiting, Emma grinned at her own worried expense before speaking to him over her shoulder, “Still, enough’s enough. We’re only going to be gone a few short days. Henry comes in on Friday, plus he’ll have Hope here then, and probably Violet too once she gets back to town, and we’ll be back on Monday.”

Killian’s eyebrows both rose up to disappear under the dark fringe of hair hanging over his forehead as he feigned shocked surprise. “You’re allowing the lad and his lady love to cohabitate under your roof when we aren’t here to chaperone?”

Her husband’s playful pretense of being scandalized had Emma putting her hands on her hips in equally mock consternation. “Oh, don’t pretend your delicate sensibilities are overcome. If you think I don’t know you gave him some tips on successful wooing of said lady love along the way, you’d better think again, buddy.”

Killian chuckled in return at that, dipping his head in a slight bob of agreement to show that he knew she had him there. Taking his own jacket from the peg next to his Swan’s, Killian swung his own outerwear over his shoulders and then waited at the door for Emma as she patted her pockets and made certain she had her keys, phone, badge, and cards before following her out onto the porch and locking the door behind them.

“There,” Emma said, pleased to feel the weight of everyday concerns falling from her shoulders with the closed door. Taking Killian’s offered hand, she added, “Let the holiday adventure begin.”

~~~~**

The next afternoon found them snuggled in a corner booth at the charming Serendipity’s in the Upper East Side of New York City itself. Not only was the frozen hot chocolate heaped with whipped cream and toppings decadent enough to induce guilt all on its own, but sitting there cozily tucked into Killian’s side had Emma almost feeling selfish for escaping from her family and friends in Storybrooke, not to mention her little girl to steal a few days - and nights - alone with her pirate husband. Nevermind that Hope had her Grandpa David completely wrapped around her tiny fingers and would be dragging him around with the dogs, goats and sheep on the farm until dark and then she and Grandma Snow would probably create the most intricate and icing-frosting gingerbread castle known to man; suffice it to say Hope was in little girl heaven being spoiled by her grandparents at present, and would get to spend a whole day with her adored big brother right before Emma and Killian returned; she was hardly pining away feeling left out. Maybe she should feel ashamed of herself for counting it almost a luxury to canoodle with her handsome husband in public without interruptions from well-meaning neighbors (or parents), Ruby winking at her knowingly from behind the counter at Granny’s, or one of the dwarves bursting into the middle of the date to proclaim some new emergency, but she felt incredibly spoiled and pleased at pulling it off all the same.

A pleasant rumbling chuckle from Killian’s chest vibrated through her as he licked the last of his own dessert from the spoon, making Emma’s heart rate triple and her cheeks heat at the image of his lips enveloping the utensil and thinking of how deliciously they felt sampling her bare skin as well when they were behind closed door. “You seemed pensive, Darling,” he murmured low in her ear, voice sounding mild and innocent, though Emma could clearly see otherwise when she shot a sideways glance at his twinkling eyes and mischievous expression.

“As if you don’t know exactly what you’re doing,” she countered with a huff, pushing away slightly to sit upright, sip the last dregs of her melty treat, and rise to stand before him determinedly. “Enough stalling, Captain,” she added with tart certainty. “You aren’t going to get me addled enough to forget what you promised. I may drag you back to our room, but…”

As she paused for a shaky breath, Killian ran his tongue salaciously over his lower lip, eyeing her intently and taking her internal temperature up another few notches. Still, Emma arched her brow right back at him in return and leaned in to meet his teasing look with one of her own. “But not before you take me ice skating, as planned,” she finished.

Shaking his head at her antics, Killian rose to his feet as well, leaving a generous tip for their server - with dollar bills, not doubloons, as Emma had reiterated he must do to blend in properly in the Land Without Magic - and offered her his arm as gallantly as ever while they made their way back out into the frosty night. Once they were back on the sidewalk, shoulders hunched against the chill air as they turned their steps toward Central Park, Killian spoke up again with resigned knowing, “Though I suspect you largely wish to see me at disadvantage and looking foolish, you wish is - as always - my command, Emma.”

The wide, dazzling grin she gave him in return sent any hesitance Killian had felt at the strange activity fleeing to the furthest back corner of his mind. His lovely wife beaming so open and joyously was still entirely too rare in his opinion, and it made any upcoming embarrassment well worth it. Emma, for her part, could see that decision in his adoring gaze, and blinked back the tears that beaded her eyelashes, loving him all the more for his dedication to her happiness.

~~~**

Upon reaching the crowded space sent aside as an ice-skating rink within the acreage of Central Park, not only did Emma gain a bit of an eager spring to her step, her shining golden hair swinging mesmerizingly over her shoulders, but Killian felt himself charmed too, in spite of his reluctance. The borders around the frozen surface were looped and festooned by a wealth of twinkle lights glowing cheerily, and at some point during their stop for dessert at Serendipity’s, snow had begun to fall lightly, giving the entire scene just the sort of pretty white dusting that added the perfect festive look to the atmosphere. People were scattered all around the busy clearing - as they were all throughout this major city, Killian was coming to understand, almost packed atop each other really. There were couples skating hand-in-hand and parents helping their children put on skates interspersed with teenagers weaving in and out of the slower skaters on the ice and laughing over their cocoa in clumps at the picnics tables; humanity of all ages and races converging here in holiday cheer. It truly was something to witness.

Emma led the way to the rental stall with confidence, causing Killian to wonder with blatant curiosity if she and Henry had come here often in that lost year when they were separated and her lad was still just a youngster yet. That time had dragged and tormented her unendingly, thinking Emma was lost to him forever, just when she had begun to see him for the man he wished to be, the man she had restored in him. All the same, for his Swan, it must have been such a sweet, simple respite in many ways. She didn’t remember the family, or the pirate, she had lost. Henry was hers alone, and had always been so. Returning to the constant battles and demands, to sharing her son with the woman who would have gladly seen her dead - or in a cursed sleep forever - could not have been the easy choice. Killian knew that - and yet, it struck him anew in moments he least expected it.

Turning to see the slightly pained expression on his face, Emma’s brow puckered in confusion. “What’s wrong, Babe?” she asked worriedly, tugging the hand she held to get his attention fully. “You know I’m mostly kidding you, right? If we skate a couple rounds and you hate it, we don’t have to keep going.”

Killian shook his head with a light scoff at that, waving off her concern before bending to press a kiss to her forehead in reassurance. “Don’t you worry, Love,” he soothed. “I was only lost in thought for a moment.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, leaning in to rest a hand over his heart as she often did, ever since his time in the Underworld, it having become a bit of a habit to assure herself his heart was beating with life once again.

“Aye,” he nodded decisively, without a moment’s pause, not about to keep her guessing or make her feel he wouldn’t wish to join her in whatever she truly wished to do.

By this time, they had reached the front of the line and turned from conversation with each other to face the attendant renting skates to all the bravely bundled up visitors of the outdoor rink. To Emma’s surprise, the young man smiling back at them had an oddly familiar glimmer in his deep chocolate-brown eyes and soft affection to his smile. It was completely at odds with her certainty that she’d never met him before, nor could she begin to guess his name, but the way he greeted them with such friendliness and - she could have sworn - a playful wink, made it seem as if he somehow knew them. He was a handsome and eye-catching guy, his close-cropped black hair, mocha latte skin, and lean height made him hard not to notice, all the more reason Emma suspiciously felt she ought to know him, though her mind offered no further clues. “How can I help you fine folks?” he spoke then, bright and completely innocuous right words. “A couple pair of skates?”

“Right you are,” Killian answered, giving Emma a curious look to show he found this effusive welcome strange as well, but carrying on normally. ��Two pair for an hour’s rental, if you please.”

With a nod, the attendant turned to reach behind him to the shelves and retrieve the skates in their sizes which Killian had requested. Emma offered him the rental fee money, as Killian had taken both pairs of skates in his good hand and didn’t often choose to extend his false wooden hand to strangers, even if he did concede to wear it when they ventured outside Storybrooke. However, when her gloved hand touched his to give him the money, a shivering flash ran through her, nearly knocking Emma back on her heels.

Glancing up at the man sharply, Emma drew in a quick gasp of surprise, even as she felt Killian’s touch at the small of her back in silent support. All she got in return was a subtle bow of the head, acknowledging what she had felt, and the lowly murmured, “It’s lovely to see you happy for the holidays at long last, Savior.”

“What - ? Wait, who are you?” she sputtered, floundering for a response. “How did you - ?”

“Emma, Love, maybe now is not the time,” Killian whispered at her ear, nodding subtly toward the line of people behind them, beginning to shuffle and grow impatient when they didn’t move on with their skates and make way for the next customers.

“To answer your question, I’m Melvin Emrys, skate shop employee extraordinaire,” the enigmatic young man broke in with a smile. “Though I doubt that helps you, as I am sure even now you are thinking that name does not quite fit.” He winked again. “Both of you enjoy your time on the ice. It truly can be magical this time of year. But I’m afraid that now I must see to the rest of my customers.”

Killian ushered Emma over to a bench nearby, she still looking back over her shoulder uneasily, trying to understand what had just happened. Her pirate was hovering a bit more protectively than usual, but nothing overtly threatening had actually happened, and so they soon attempted to shrug off the odd encounter, see to their skates, and were soon gingerly stepping out onto the ice.

To her utter delight, Emma found that the gliding movement came back to her easily, her feet moving almost as if on auto pilot, her muscle memory seeming to sustain her, even if it had been years since she’d last been on skates. Swirling around she faced Killian, who was still on solid ground, looking dubiously at the frozen surface and then her as if again trying to gauge if she only wanted to see him land on his arse.

Holding out her hand, Emma cocked her head to the side and gave him a playful pout before wheedling, “Come on now, Pirate, don’t tell me the scourge of the high seas is afraid of a little frozen water. Don’t you trust me?”

Resolve seemed to crystallize in Killian’s bright blue eyes, the determined bob of his chin seeming to solidify his decision. “That’s hardly fair, Sweetheart. You know I trust you as I would no one else.” He took first one, then another cautious step forward, until he was, wavering only slightly, standing fully on the icy surface. “I simply wonder if you might also wish to see me looking as ridiculously uncoordinated as you sometimes do.”

“Hey!” Emma blurted out, almost jerking her hand back to cross her arms over her chest in feigned affront.

He had hold of her already, and rather than slipping and losing his balance, he pulled her into his unexpectedly solid embrace, grinning down at her with a face so full of mischief that she knew immediately she’d been had.

“You already know how to ice skate just fine, don’t you?” she asked, the answer having already dawned on her without much of a doubt.

Waggling both eyebrows at her in a way that made her want to both giggle and smack him simultaneously, Killian nodded in confirmation of her words, not willing to string her along any further.

“Why didn’t you say so?” she asked curiously.

“All that time on the seas, traveling to so many different lands and times, I would have had to have picked it up somewhere. There are parts of the sea that turn so cold, even that much water can freeze solid,” he offered simply. “But you seemed to eager to show me something from your world, to teach me something that you loved to do, that I hated to spoil it for you. And I wasn’t completely sure that after so long in Neverland, I would still remember how…”

“Hmm…” Emma grumbled a bit, but it was half-hearted, seeing that his heart had been in the right place, and also eager to skate with him, to feel the breeze in her hair and the snowflakes on her face and enjoy the feeling of almost flying with him at her side.

“Now, now, Darling,” Killian crooned, taking her hand and pushing off gracefully, both of them setting off in a smooth glide that curved gently when they reached the end of the rink. “Don’t pout, just because you won’t be getting to see this arse you love bumped and bruised and frozen from landing on the ice.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see about how much I love it once you probably show me up at this,” she said, but her cheeks were heating pleasantly just watching how smoothly he moved beside her. He was as graceful in this as he was everything else he tried.

~~~**

By the time their few days in the city drew to a close, it was Christmas Eve. As they packed up the Bug for the trek back to Storybrooke, Emma couldn’t help reflecting on what a difference a few days away could make. She and Killian hadn’t had this much time to themselves since they were married, quite possibly even since their inadvertent trip to the Enchanted Forest of the past. She couldn’t claim to read her pirate’s mind, but they did understand each other, just as they always had. It was clear enough that he felt as renewed as she did, and anxious to get home again to their loved ones, especially their little girl.

She knew Killian was also thrilled to have found gifts fit for his pirate princess at FAO Schwarz and couldn’t wait to give them to Hope the next day. He’d found a huge, ostentatious, feathered pirate hat worthy of his showy old nemesis Blackbeard, but he knew his daughter would love it. Along with that, he’d purchased a shining miniature toy cutlass which looked as much like his as he could have possibly imagined without being an actual weapon. Emma found herself grinning even more at the thought of the large, squishy-soft stuffed octopus she’d found herself to add to the haul. After being spoiled by her grandparents and then her older brother the last several days, Hope would be on a sugar high and bouncing off the walls with excitement already. Seeing all her presents from the big city would have her beside herself.

And Emma wouldn’t want it any other way. There was something incredibly healing about seeing her own child get to have the sort of Christ mas she herself had always dreamed of - surrounded by belongings and love - and getting to be a part of it herself at long last.

So when they drove past the Storybrooke sign some hours later, snowflakes still sparkling in the chill air and Killian’s solid warmth at her side, nearing the rest of their family and a Christmas celebration sure to be of royal proportions at her mother and father’s farmhouse that night, Emma smiled at her True Love and let herself savor that extra little thrill of Christmas magic.

#cs ff #cs fanart #csss2024 #cssecretsanta2024 #gift fic for @stevebcks #ouat post s6 future fic #cs future family fluff #cs christmas one shot

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i-will-sing-no-requiem · 17 days ago

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Merry Christmas @jrob64 I'm your @cssecretsanta2020 gifter!

youtube

I made you a video to Take It To The Limit by The Eagles, because you said you liked them and this song always reminds me of emma and killian :)

I hope you like it! I tried to include as many of the scenes you said you liked as I could

(also since I posted it on youtube, let me know if you have a youtube account you want me to tag!)

#csss2024 #otp: you traded your ship for me #captain swan #cs #my edit #fanvid #emma x killian #killian x emma #emma swan #killian jones #ouat #once upon a time #the eagles #take it to the limit #Youtube

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csgiftexchange · 2 months ago

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This event will again not be taking place this year.

I am focusing on my, and possibly the, last year of Captain Swan Secret Santa. Which does currently have sign ups live right now. You can find that post HERE

But I want to make it clear though this event has only happened one year this event is not abandoned. The one year it did happen it was very fun and I enjoyed running it. I do hope that this event can run next year maybe we can even do a Christmas in July gift exchange so we don't have to wait for the winter season.

#captain swan #cs fanart #cs fanfic #cs fandom #csge #csss #cssecretsanta #csss2024 #cssecretsanta2024 #killian jones #emma swan #ouat #once upon a time

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middlemistcs13 · 9 days ago

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Gingerbread Houses and Plays and Christmas! Oh My!

Second and Final Chapter!

Here is the second chapter! Sorry for the delay! This is the second installment of my fic for Captain Swan Secret Santa 2024 @cssecretsanta2020 and this is my gift for @whimsicallyenchantedrose. Thank you so much for being so patient with me! You are seriously one of my very favorite authors, and I hope this has been an alright story! I've been very worried about making this good enough for you!

Any and all feedback is much appreciated! I'm still continuing to learn to be a better writer, and would love any thoughts you might have. Thanks so much for reading! I hope you all had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! (Or a Happy Holidays if you don't celebrate Christmas!)

Rated: G

Word Count: 4K

“Pass the frosting, love,” Killian said, holding together two pieces of gingerbread. Emma passed him the pipping bag full of white frosting. The Swan-Jones household was busy making their gingerbread houses. They had cleared off the kitchen table and were all in deep concentration making their houses. Well, their gingerbread things. Emma and Hope were working on a gingerbread house together. Hope directed Emma and helped when possible. Henry had decided to make an AT-AT from Star Wars out of gingerbread. Killian had, as Henry predicted, decided to make the Jolly Roger out of gingerbread.

“They are so going to vote for my gingerbread being the best!” Henry said, confident in his artistic ability.

“Lad, don’t get too overzealous. I am creating a mighty fine ship over here.” Killian responded. The boys decided to display their gingerbreads for their family to judge and pick a winner tomorrow morning on Christmas Eve. Everyone would spend Christmas Eve over at Emma and Killian’s for breakfast before more gatherings would occur throughout the day. The loser of their friendly competition had to do the winner’s chores for a week.

“Mama! We need more gumdrops for my roof!” Hope interrupted her father and brother’s playful banter.

“Okay, relax. I’ll grab them.” Emma responded, shaking her head slightly at her toddler’s enthusiasm. She jumped up and down for five minutes when Henry told her they would make gingerbread houses this Christmas season. “Do you want more of the pink and purple ones or all the colors?”

“Purple! And pink! And all of them!” Hope said, practically bouncing in her chair. Killian laughed quietly at his daughter.

“Hey! Stop eating those candy pieces, little love. We need them for decorating. You can have a snack after we finish,” Killian chided Hope.

“Sowwy! Candy is dewiscious!” Emma handed the little girl some more gumdrops, and she quickly went to work adding some on the roof of their gingerbread house.

“Do you guys want some hot cocoa? I’m craving some,” Emma asked, getting the milk out of the fridge to boil on the stove. A chorus of “yes”es rang out in their kitchen. Emma got to work preparing four cups of hot cocoa while the milk boiled. This time next year they would have an infant, and everything would be hectic and crazy in a different way. Emma and Killian won’t be getting any sleep, and they had just gotten to the point that Hope would sleep through the night about a year and a half ago. They are still working on Hope staying in bed until at least 6:30 on school days, and 7 on weekends and breaks. Hopefully, Henry can come home from college for the winter holidays next year. Emma didn’t think it would ever feel like Christmas if all of her kids weren’t home.

The bubbling of boiling milk snapped Emma out of her thoughts, and she poured the glasses of milk into mugs before finishing making the hot chocolate exactly as they all liked. Emma took a minute to take in her family just the way they were- Henry laughing at something Killian had said, some flour in his hair; Killian putting a dab of icing on Hope’s nose, causing her to burst out into a fit of giggles; her husband entertaining their kids, his smile lines showing in the cold, winter light streaming through the windows. She hoped their home was always filled with love and laughter like it was in this perfect moment.

-------CS-------

“My AT-AT was better than your ship,” Henry grumbled as they walked up the steps to Regina’s mansion.

“Lad, just admit that you lost. Fair and square as they say,” Killian replied with a smirk.

“It’s only because the kids don’t know what an AT-AT is yet. Everyone loves the Jolly Roger. And you!” Henry snapped.

“Everyone loves me?”

“Killian, stop. It’s Christmas Eve. Stop antagonizing him,” Emma hushed. They greeted everyone at Regina’s house. They were evidently the last ones there. Zelena practically lived with Regina and Robin, and young Robin also lived with them and Roland. Emma’s parents and siblings were already there, and so were Belle and Gideon. Gold was apparently home with the flu. Not that she wished him ill, but she was certainly glad Gold was not there for Christmas Eve to prevent any possible feuds between him and Killian. Granny was also spending Christmas Eve with them since Ruby had moved to Kansas with Dorothy.

After greetings, they gathered around for their feast. It was a potluck of Christmas dishes, with a little of everything anyone could want to eat around the holidays. Emma was thankful her morning sickness was pretty much gone, because she was hungry and wanted to enjoy the food. They had brought Emma’s new found favorite dessert: a chocolate peppermint ganache brownie deliciousness. Emma was craving all things chocolate and peppermint right now, and she had made these brownies at least once a week for the past month. Most of their company seemed to enjoy the brownies as well, complimenting the couple. When everyone had finished eating, the adults helped clean up the kitchen and dishes, while Henry took the children to prepare for their play. Henry had his camera set up to film the play for his senior project. The children got into their costumes, and before long, the adults were settled and the play had gone underway. Emma and Killian sat on a loveseat together, his arms protectively draped over her shoulders. She laid her head on Killian’s shoulder as Henry began narrating the play.

Henry was a natural storyteller, and his job as the author only strengthened his skills. Henry had chosen to reenact Emma and Killian’s journey to the past in the Enchanted Forest, when Emma and Killian got to watch Snow and Charming fall in love. The children were playing different people, with Gideon playing his father, Neal as David, Margaret Ruth as Snow, Hope as Emma, Robin as Regina, and Roland as Killian. Henry weaved them through the story, with Hope and Roland going back in time, and arguing in the forest about getting back to the present. There was a costume change, and Hope was then wearing a cloak reminiscent of the Enchanted Forest. They then meet Gideon, who did an excellent job playing his father. Gideon even perfected Rumple’s voice he used before arriving in Storybrooke 30-some years ago. Hope and Roland had another costume change, and Hope was wearing a red satin dress she had worn for Christmas last year. Roland got down on his knees to help Hope dance during the “ball’. Robin, playing Regina, suddenly interrupted their dance and takes Hope prisoner. Roland and Neal converse before going to break Hope out of prison. Before they get there, Hope has escaped herself and delivers Emma’s famous line of “Sorry. No one saves me but me!” and winks at their audience. There’s a brief jump ahead and Hope and Roland help to ensure that Neal and Margaret Ruth meet for the first time. Hope and Roland once again talk with Gideon, before they discover that Hope has her magic again, and they return from their adventure into the past. They all hold hands and bow, finishing out their little play.

The adults burst out into applause, and congratulate the kids on their great performance. Every adult in the room embraces Henry and praises him for a job well done. Despite everyone speaking highly of Henry’s hard work, Henry can’t help but grumble.

“It would have went a lot smoother if they had actually bothered to practice!”

-------CS-------

“Mama! Papa! It’s Chwistmas! Get up! Get up! Get up!” Hope shrieked, making her way down the hallway to her parent’s bedroom.

“Ugh, already?” Emma mumbled into her pillow, pulling her husband's arms closer around her. His hand was firmly planted on her baby bump, thumb rubbing circles into her bare skin where her shirt had slid up in sleep. Killian kissed her shoulder before snuggling his face in her long blonde tresses. Hope opened their door and skipped to her father’s side of the bed.

“Papa! It’s Chwistmas!” She repeated, trying to climb up the bed. Killian relented and helped her up, tickling her in the process. “Papa!” Hope giggled, crawling on the bed to her mother for protection. Emma enveloped her daughter in her arms, kissing the little girl on her hairline.

“Good morning, baby,” Emma said, snuggling Hope closer to her.

“Morning, Mama. It's Chwistmas!” Hope said, her blue eyes shining in the early morning light.

“You’re right. It is Christmas morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Good! I had dweams that Santa bwought lots of presents! Maybe he bwought me a baby!” Hope said, suddenly remembering her dreams.

“A baby?” Emma questioned.

“Mhmm. I want a baby. Like I’m Henwy’s baby. I want a baby.” Hope explained.

“Like a baby brother or sister?”

“Yeah! Henwy says he likes being a big brother. I want to be a big sister!” Emma looked at her husband. He smiled at his girls, before nodding his head to his wife. This was their perfect opportunity.

“Well, Santa didn’t bring you a baby, but Papa and I have a surprise for you, sweet girl.” Emma began.

“A supwise?!” Hope perked up, her riotous blonde curls falling down her back.

“Your Mama has a baby in her tummy right now, little love,” Killian said gently, stroking his daughter’s hair as she looked intently at her parents.

“In your tummy?”

“Mhmm. Do you want to see?” Emma asked.

“Yeah!” Emma pulled their comforter down to reveal her baby bump. Hope probably also hadn't noticed because she’d been wearing baggy sweaters and coats to hide the baby bump from her parents. Hope placed her tiny hands on her mother’s stomach, curiously observing Emma’s breathing. “There’s a baby in your tummy? When does it come out?”

“The baby will come out of my tummy in the spring. In May, right before you get out of school for the summer,” Emma replied, placing her hands over Hope’s tiny ones.

“Is it a brother or a sister?”

“We don’t know yet, baby. We will get to know so soon at the next doctor’s appointment.”

“The baby has to go to the doctor?!” Hope asked incredulously.

“Well, kind of. Mama has to go to the doctor. The doctor has to check on Mama and the baby,” Killian chimed in. “We had to go to the doctor when you were in Mama’s tummy, too.”

“I was in Mama’s tummy?!”

“Yep. And your Papa would sing you lullabies every night to help you go to sleep.” Emma smiled at her little family.

“Just like you sing me lullabies now Papa! Did you sing to the baby yet?” Hope asked, hands exploring Emma’s stomach and pushing her shirt up over her bump. Hope was too young to remember Snow being pregnant with Margaret Ruth, so she hadn’t really ever been exposed to pregnant women before.

“I’ve sung a little bit, but the baby is still little, so it hasn’t been keeping your Mama up yet. When the baby gets a little bigger, it moves around. When you were big enough and moving around, you sometimes kept your Mama up at night. The only two things that would calm you down enough for Mama to sleep were for me to sing lullabies or for us to sleep on the Jolly Roger. You calmed down because of the waves gently rocking the ship.” Killian explained.

“I moved in your tummy?”

“All. The. Time. You loved kicking me all day long. And sometimes all night long.”

“Has my baby kicked you?” Hope asked, finally tearing her eyes away from her mother’s stomach and looking at her face.

“Your baby?”

“I’m Henwy’s baby, so this is my baby,” Hope said matter-of-factly.

“What about my babies?” Emma questioned the four-year-old’s logic.

“We are all your babies, Mama!” Hope giggled in response.

“Ahh, I see. And no, the baby hasn’t kicked yet. Maybe in a few weeks it will.”

“But if the baby is not kickin’ you, why you so sweepy?”

“Because that is just what happens. The baby has to grow a lot. It starts out smaller than the nail on your pinky finger and it gets as big as your baby doll. Then once the baby is out of my belly, it will get as big as Margaret Ruth, and you, and Neal, and Henry and even bigger, just like you are going to get bigger. But the baby is growing a lot, so I have to eat more for the baby, and it makes me tired when the baby is growing,” Emma attempted to explain. Hope nodded in understanding before sliding herself down so her face was right in front of the baby bump.

“Hi, baby! I’m Hope! I’m gonna be a big sister! Don’t make Mama too tired today, it’s Chwistmas! And we are gonna see Henwy and Grandma and Grandpa and Neal and Ruthie!”

“Hope, Grandpa and Grandma and Neal and Margaret Ruth don’t know about the baby yet. We have to tell them. Do you think you could help us tell them in a little bit?” Killian asked.

“Gwandma doesn’t know?! She knows everything!”

“Tell me about it, kid,” Emma said.

“I wanna tell them! I wanna tell them!” Hope exclaimed, before beginning to jump up and down on the bed.

“Be careful!” Emma and Killian said in unison.

“We have to be very careful with Mama because of the baby right now, little love,” Killian said gently.

“Sowwy Mama!”

“It’s alright sweet girl. Do you want to wake Henry up so we can get ready to go to Grandma and Grandpa’s?” Emma asked. Hope practically leaped off the bed and ran for the door, a “yes!” coming from her before she rounded the corner towards Henry’s room.

“Well, that went well,” Emma said sleepily, curling herself into Killian’s arms. Killian embraced his wife, blunt arm going around her back and his hand finding its place on her stomach once again.

“Aye, love. I told you there’d be nothing to worry about. Our girl loves her baby dolls and is practically your sister’s older sister. Everything will be fine. And I think your parents will be pleasantly surprised later,” Killian replied. They snuggled together in the stillness of the December morning for several more minutes, until Hope could again be heard down the hallway talking animatedly to Henry about babies and tummies.

-------CS-------

“Alright remember Hope- the baby is a secret until we tell you. Then you can tell Grandma and Grandpa,” Henry said, reminding his sister of their plan once more as they pulled up to the Nolan’s farmhouse. The house was decorated for Christmas with lights and garland lining the massive covered front porch.

“I ‘member!” Hope said, eagerly looking out the window at her grandparents’ house. “And it's a secret from Neal and Ruthie, too!”

“That’s right. It’s like how our play was a secret. We can’t tell them until Mama or Papa tells you. You did so good keeping the play a secret.”

“I’ll be good! I pwomise!” Hope said as Emma parked their car. When they were pregnant with Hope, Emma, and Killian had ventured out of Storybrooke looking for a newer and nicer car for their growing family. They decided on a new Subaru Outback, with 5 seats and plenty of safety features for their icy and snowy winters in Maine. The family got out of the car and made their way up the front steps before knocking and entering the warm house.

“Mmmm,” Emma said, smelling the aroma of spices and freshly baked goods in the foyer. “Mom, I have no idea what you’re making, but it smells so good.”

“Thanks, sweetheart! I just took the sourdough out of the oven! Should be perfect with the eggs your father is finishing up.” Snow replied, not leaving her spot in the kitchen. Emma, Killian, Henry, and Hope removed their boots and coats in the mudroom before venturing further into the house. Neal and Margaret Ruth came down the stairs in nice clothes, ready for the inevitable family photo. The children greeted each other before Neal made his way to his sister.

“Ems! Merry Christmas!” Neal greeted, giving Emma a big hug. Because he was ten, Neal’s head was at Emma’s abdomen height. In the tight hug, Neal realized something was impacting his ability to hug his sister. “Ems?” Neal questioned quietly, looking up from her shirt to Emma’s face. She just smiled before quietly telling him she would tell him later. He nodded before smiling at his older sister, going back in for a second hug. Snow finally made her way out of the kitchen to greet her daughter’s family, giving everyone hugs. Emma made sure she didn’t get too tight of a hug from her mother. She desperately tried to make it until Hope told her parents their little secret after breakfast.

They ate breakfast together in the dining room, talking animatedly about different things going on in their lives, specifically, about Henry’s play from the previous night.

“Henry, you just did such an incredible job. I have no idea how you pulled it off. I know we all loved it. We got to relive my love story with your grandfather, and a part of your mother’s love story. It was just really special. There’s a reason you are the writer,” Snow complimented.

“Thanks, Grandma. I thought you would like it,” Henry beamed. After breakfast, the adults helped clean up before they moved into the living room to open presents from each other.

“Alright, Hope. Come here,” Emma said after over an hour of opening presents. All the presents had been opened, so it was the perfect time for Hope to make their announcement. Hope followed her mother’s directions before Emma whispered in her ear.

“Okay, Mama,” Hope whispered back, grinning at her parents and Henry. She turned around to her grandparents who were sitting on another couch before skipping over to them.

“Gwandma and Gwandpa, there’s one more present!” Hope excitedly shared.

“There is? There’s nothing else under the tree sweetheart,” Snow said, looking from their vibrant Christmas tree to her granddaughter.

“It’s not under the tree silly!” Hope giggled. Snow and Charming looked more confused, but let Hope finish. “It’s from Mama! There’s a baby in her tummy right now!” The little girl shrieked. It took approximately 1.3 seconds for Snow to catch on before she jumped up off the couch screaming in excitement.

“I knew it! I knew something was going on! OH! I’m SO excited for you Emma! Another baby?! How wonderful is that!” Snow squealed, forcing Emma to stand before embracing her in a very tight hug.

“Mom. A little tight,” Emma muttered.

“Oh! Sorry! I’m just so excited! And you!” Snow said, turning to her husband. “You have to do the dishes for a month. I told you!” Snow bragged triumphantly.

“You made a bet that I was pregnant?” Emma questioned.

“Of course! You were just being so suspicious! The weird appetite? Wanting to eat more? The tiredness? Dear, you were a classic case!” Snow babbled. “And you weren’t telling me anything whenever I asked. That was a surefire sign!” Snow embraced her eldest again, before hugging her son-in-law.

“I’m so happy for you both!” Snow gushed. David had gotten over his initial shock, sure Killian would have told him earlier that they were pregnant again, and gathered Emma in his arms. One hand went around her back, and his other hand held her head like he always did when giving his daughter a comforting embrace.

“Congratulations, Emma. I don’t know how you continue to make me proud to be your father, but I am so happy for you, and I am so proud of you. I can’t wait to have another grandchild.” David said in Emma’s ear during their embrace.

“Thanks, Dad. It means a lot, and we’re both really excited,” Emma replied. David let go of his daughter before turning to his son-in-law (and best friend).

“I’m a little hurt you didn’t tell me earlier, especially when I specifically asked you how Emma was doing. But, I understand, and I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks, Dave. We wanted to present it as a surprise for Christmas,” Killian said, hugging his mate. David quickly wiped tears from under his eyes trying to appear strong in front of his family.

“Dad? Are you crying?” Emma asked, perplexed.

“Yeah, I just-. It’s something special to see your daughter growing up and being happy, Seeing you happy with Killian and with your growing family, it’s everything I wanted for you and more.” David’s comment brought a fresh layer of tears to Emma’s eyes, and she burrowed herself in her father’s arms once more.

“I’m glad you are in my life, Dad. You too, Mom. Merry Christmas. I didn’t realize I was going to get so emotional,” Emma said, wiping the tears from her eyes as she looked towards all of her family.

“Love, you’re four and a half months pregnant. Of course, you were going to get emotional.” Killian said, face broken out in a permanent smile.

“Four and a half months?!” shrieked Snow. Emma was never going to live down the fact that she hid her pregnancy from her mother for over four months, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. Her parents were emotional soon-to-be grandparents for the third time. Her siblings looked excited and were already talking with Hope about “her baby in Mama’s tummy”, and Henry just looked proud. She sure was proud of her kid, and thankful that he was so supportive of her and Killian growing their little family. Then there was her husband. Killian had rarely looked happier, except maybe when she told him she was pregnant with Hope or the day Hope was born. Gone was the rough-around-the-edges great pirate captain. A loving, kind, generous, and supportive man stood in his place, and Emma couldn’t ask for a better friend, husband, or father for her children.

It was a Merry Christmas, indeed.

#captain swan #emma swan #killian jones #once upon a time #ouat #captain swan secret santa #csss2024 #cs fic #cs family fluff #middlemistcs13fic

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stubblesandwich · 13 days ago

Text

Slice Of Life

A Captain Swan & Captain Cobra fanfic, written for @pirateprincessofpizza for @cssecretsanta2020.

Rated: General

Words: 6,000+ (I knoowww, I'm sorry 🙈)

Author's Note: Merry Christmas, Pirate! I'm SO SORRY this is a few days late. 🙃 Forgive me. I hope the fact that it's so darn long helps soften the blow of its lateness. This is actually going to be part one of a series I'd like to do, completely inspired by your username/enduring admiration for pizza, as well as your desire for more "slice of life" scenes, surrounding different points in Emma and Killian's relationship as it grows through the seasons. Each story will feature pizza in some way or another, because pizza is great, despite what other pirates might think to the contrary. 👀

Anyway!! Merry (belated) Christmas, my dear! I loved getting to know you through our long messages, and I hope you find this fic to be at least semi heart warming. I had fun writing it, and I look forward to continuing it with a second chapter set in the 6-week era of peace in S4. 👀👀

This one is set during season 3B, with Emma trying to juggle having a good relationship with her son and make an attempt at normal in the times of the Wicked Witch--by having a shared dinner with Captain Hook, obviously. Set some evening post-Neal's death but before poor Killian has his lips cursed.

AO3 link here if that's easier ✌🏻

+++

Life is made up of moments, her father had once told her. Good ones. Bad ones. But they're all worth living.

And this, right here? This is a good moment.

The town, for once, is quiet.

No new flying monkey bite victims. Nothing from the Wicked Witch. And while all nefarious villains are undoubtedly planning and plotting more nefarious deeds, tonight, Emma Swan does not care about any of that. (She doesn't even sort of care.)

What she cares about is the black-clad, self-proclaimed scoundrel sitting across from her whose more nefarious days seem to be tucked away behind him for safe keeping. The black-clad scoundrel currently looking at her like a confused puppy, slight head tilt included.

"And what, pray tell, is pizza?" he asks, as he reaches for his mug of beer. Granny's been trying out a few new brews on tap (that Emma is pretty sure some of the dwarves have been concocting illegally, but she doesn't have the mental capacity to check into that any further at present) and has roped Killian into taste testing one of them for her. Killian, never one to see a lady in peril, needed no arm twisting and was happy to oblige. "I gather it's valuable in this realm, if you would stoop to homicide to attain a slice of it."

Sometimes she truly can't tell if he's messing with her, when he talks like that. The internal lie detector she'd developed as a child to tell when another foster parent or sibling was bullshitting her, then honed as an adult to tell when even worse people were bullshitting her, sometimes gets a little fuzzy around this particular man. (Or she quite possibly gets distracted by his face and the way he tends to stand so close to her. Who’s to say, really.) It's what she would blame, if pressed, for why she left him up on that beanstalk oh so long ago.

(Which is something she is very grateful he has never brought up again.)

It's definitely not the fact that he stands so much farther into her personal bubble than literally anyone else on the planet, or the fact that he watches her with those insanely intense eyes of his, gaze fixed on her in that knowing way like he not only sees her, but he gets her, reads her like a book sitting out and open on a coffee table. It's incredibly unnerving. But what's even more unnerving is how she is finding that the longer she knows him, the less she really seems to mind.

Sometimes, she feels like he stepped straight out of a Jane Austen novel, when he talks like that, and she can't tell if he's hamming it up on purpose. She's very well aware he's not from this time, or realm, or whatever. She never actually forgets that—how could she?—but she almost forgets, sometimes. Until moments like now, when he's staring at her like a quizzical puppy. A puppy who apparently doesn't know what pizza is.

There's a little bit of beer foam on his upper lip, caught in his mustache, which she's always noticed is just a little darker, just a little more pronounced than the rest of the stubble dusting his jawline. She's wondered before if that's where the silly mustache comes from, on the cartoon version of Captain Hook from the Peter Pan cartoon. (Not that Emma has spent an inordinate amount of time admiring the artfulness of his facial hair, God no. And there's definitely no intrusive thoughts of licking said beer foam off his upper lip, no, definitely not. That's never happened to her before and it's definitely not happening now.)

All she'd said, grumbled beneath her breath as she stared at the menu she had memorized, was that she'd kill for a decent slice of pizza right about now. A perfectly normal bit of hyperbole.

His bright eyes dance, trained on her as they so often are, but the hint of a smirk pushing at his lips is masked by his mug as he takes a sip of his beer. He licks his lip, and just like that, the foam is gone, and takes with it the distraction it was causing her.

"Wait, hold on, back up,” she says, as if finally registering the words he’d actually said. “You've seriously never had pizza before?" She's not sure why it surprises her, really. Nothing should surprise her by now. But pizza? Come on. Everybody’s had pizza.

He just raises his eyebrows at her. "It's some form of food, I gather?"

She huffs a little laugh. "Yes, it's food."

It's at that moment that Henry reappears from his trip to the bathroom and slides in next to her. Something in her heart clicks back into place as he tucks in next to her. "What's food? Did you order something yet? I'm starving."

"You heard the lad," Hook says, and something in Emma's heart tugs like a bite on a fishing line at the way his eyes soften as he looks at her son. "What will it be, Swan? This pizza that has you so up in arms and calling for blood?" He says "pizza" like he's trying the word out, two distinct syllables that sound foreign to him.

Henry just blinks up at him, and Emma explains, "He's never had pizza before."

Her son's eyes bug out in unfiltered shock. "What?"

"I know," Emma says, in a what-can-you-do sort of tone, as she reaches across and snags Hook's mug of beer from him. She can feel him watching her, and she pointedly does not look back at him as she takes a sip from it. The home brew is thick, and hoppy, and.... Emma smacks her lips a few times. "That's actually... not bad."

Hook shrugs with one shoulder. "I've certainly had worse."

"I've never seen you drink something that wasn't out of your flask," she comments wryly.

With one fluid motion, he reaches across their table and steals his mug back from her, taking another sip. Kissing, her brain blurts out for thankfully only her to hear. Share a drink and it's like you're kissing was the old playground tease from her childhood. Eagerly and yet very unhelpfully, her brain then supplies her with an image of the first time she'd kissed this particular man, in a hot, sweaty, evil magic jungle, and something low in her stomach bursts open like a big, hot balloon. Get it together, Swan, she chides herself.

Thankfully, Hook doesn't seem to notice that she's having an internal error of some kind, and simply says, "Contrary to popular opinion, Swan, I'm actually a fairly well traveled and well rounded individual with many refined tastes."

"If you say so.” She finds herself leaning a little closer to him as his foot bumps hers beneath the table.

"But you've never had pizza before?" Henry asks, still so very very confused about how on earth someone can just go about life never having eaten his favorite food before. Stumped, Killian just stares at the boy, frowning slightly. Emma comes in for the save.

"Well, then, let's change that tonight, shall we?" she says, with a can-do attitude rivaling that of her mother. "That settles it. Let's order a pizza." Her flicks to Hook. "Unless you had other plans for dinner?"

"I am at your beck and call tonight, my lady," he says, and though the innuendo in his tone is only mildly implied for the sake of her son sitting across from him, Emma still can't help but roll her eyes.

"Can we get fries?" Henry asks hopefully, and Emma can't help but smile at him.

"I was thinking onion rings. But sure, kid. Fries it is."

"Get both," Hook suggests casually. "Dinner's on me."

"No, it's fine," Emma insists, "I got it."

"It makes no difference to me, love."

"Do you even have money?" She's never stopped to think about it before, how he's getting around, how he's been paying for a room here or what he's been using to buy food. It's such an obvious question, and yet she's never thought to ask him.

"You have no idea what the exchange rate is for gold in this town," he says simply, as he takes another sip of his beer, and she raises her brows at him.

"Okay, well, that's a question for later," she says. "Good to know." A better sheriff would look into that further, all the presumably stolen gold and other treasures he has in his possession, and the people in town so willing to turn a blind eye and take it as payment, but it's literally the least pressing problem in her life at this point. It's not even a problem; she has no way to prove he's stolen anything, and even if she did, she finds she just doesn't care. The fact that he has any number of gold pieces and random treasures on him at any given point in time with which to pay for goods and services is… oddly endearing.

But, she probably should pay for her own dinner. Otherwise, he might get the wrong idea about what this dinner is. "I've got it," she says again, a finality in her voice with which he decides not to argue further.

"If the lady insists."

Henry, bored of their conversation, has been staring down at the laminated menu in front of him. "What do you like on your pizza, Killian? Well, I guess you wouldn't know that. What do you think you'd like on it? Pepperoni, bacon, Canadian bacon–which is just ham–mushrooms, extra cheese--" he rattles on a list of all the available toppings, still staring at his menu, and completely misses the look that comes over Hook's face when Henry uses his given name. Emma, blessedly, had looked over at him at just the right moment, just when Henry had said "Killian", and beheld for herself the way Hook's whole face had softened.

"Pardon?" Killian says, clearly confused. "I'm still not quite sure what it is we're ordering."

"All right, Henry, help the poor guy out," Emma says. "Define pizza. Go.”

Henry shakes his head, incredulous as he stares at Hook. "Wow. You're like, Amish or something."

At that, Emma can't help the laugh that bursts out of her. Killian Jones could not possibly be further from an Amish person if he tried. For his part, Hook just frowns, mouths Amish? to himself.

"Okay," Henry goes on, "You have the crust, which is basically like bread." He holds out a hand horizontally, then stacks his other hand on top of it, alternating them with each layer he describes. "Then the sauce. Then a bunch of cheese, melted. Then whatever you want on top. Mom and I usually get the supreme, no green peppers, extra bacon, extra mushrooms. But we can get whatever you want. What do you like?"

Killian just looks at him, flabbergasted. "Supreme is fine, I'm sure," he finally says. Emma would feel a little bad for him if this wasn't so damn funny.

"Cool." Henry snaps his menu shut and sets it aside before turning back to his mother. "Can I get a milkshake?"

"Definitely not," Emma says. "You had that donut at the station earlier, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Henry mumbles, disappointed.

It doesn't matter though, because when it comes to her son and sugar, no one in this town seems to listen to her. Ruby automatically brings out a hot chocolate with cinnamon on top and sets it in front of Henry without even asking permission. "Sorry," she says off Emma's look, sounding distinctly not sorry, "On the house. Granny insisted."

"Thanks," Emma says wryly, sounding distinctly not thankful.

"How's the beer?" Ruby asks Killian, who smiles up at her politely.

"Very good. My hat's off to whichever dwarf concocted it."

"That would be Bashful. Though he's too shy to take credit for it."

"I imagine so," Killian says with a smirk.

"Dwarf?" Henry asks, confused.

Crap, Emma thinks, and tries to think on her feet, "Uh, the mining crew in town gave each other funny nicknames. Right, Ruby?" She shoots Killian a look, and he has the good sense to look abashed at his slip up.

Ruby's eyes are wide, as if she also completely forgot they were supposed to be a completely normal town in front of Henry. "Right! They're funny that way. Anyway, I'll tell him you liked it. And I'll tell Granny to keep it on tap." She pulls out an order pad from the half apron at her waist. "What'll it be, folks?"

"Well," Emma starts, "Killian's never tried pizza before..."

"So we're going to change his life tonight," Henry finishes for her.

Ruby, expectedly, shares in their shock. "Never had pizza?" She stares down at the pirate like he's suddenly grown an extra head. "What are you, lactose intolerant or something?"

"Excuse me?" Hook asks, as the mountain of his confusion just continues to grow ever taller.

"He's just not from around here," Emma reminds Ruby pointedly, and a look of understanding washes over her.

"Ah, right," Ruby says, "I forgot. Okay, yeah, let's change a life tonight! Pizza it is. What'll you have on it?"

"Supreme is fine," Emma says, and Henry pipes up to add, "No green peppers, please. Extra mushrooms and bacon.” Ruby writes it down, along with the side orders, and promises to be back soon with a batch of fresh onion rings for the table.

A comfortable silence befalls them. Killian seems relaxed, Emma notices, as he lounges against the wall, and she's surprised to find herself settling comfortably into the booth, as well. This is... nice. They haven't really had a chance to do this, her and Henry, and just hang out with someone else from her life. She's had to dance around so many things with her son, dodge so many questions, hide things and explain (read: lie) things away, with his memories gone. It's been exhausting, frankly. But, since he already knows Killian, spent an entire road trip from New York to Maine in a small car with him, this has felt fairly easy. And Henry seems to like Hook. A lot.

But Emma should have known that this was going too well.

"So, Killian," Henry says after a minute, having sampled his hot chocolate and found it satisfactory. "You're not from around here?" Emma's chest clenches in anxiety at whatever he's about to ask next. Please don't ask him how he lost his hand, Emma begs from behind the bars of her brain. She's not sure she can handle the amount of ducking and weaving THAT particular conversation would take.

“That’s right,” Killian hedges, eying Henry closely, though he still looks completely at ease and prepared for whatever might possibly fall out of her son’s mouth next.

“Are you from Great Britain? Like, England?”

It’s almost imperceptible, the way Hook’s gaze darts to Emma before he takes another swig of his beer, and she steps in with an answer.

“Uh, yeah,” Emma says, affecting a tone that makes her sound semi-sure but also looking to Killian for clarification, “London, right?”

He takes the answer she hands him on a silver platter and nods easily. “That’s right. What gave me away?”

Henry rolls his eyes, but any rudeness behind the gesture is dissipated with the smirk he attaches to it. “Uh, the accent, mostly.”

“Ah,” Killian says with a wink. “Well, guilty as charged.”

Emma’s not sure if they even have a version of London in the Enchanted Forest, or whatever part of that realm Killian is actually from. She vaguely remembers the Peter Pan film being set in London—probably?—but that’s about it.

There’s a little wooden peg game hiding behind the napkin dispenser on their table, pressed up against the wall. One of those little pieces of wood with holes drilled into it, with little pegs you’re supposed to jump over each other until there is only one left. Emma knows for a fact that each of the booths has one, and that they were each hand carved by Marco. Henry watches as Hook toys with it, jumps a few pegs over each other, and Emma’s heart gives a little squeeze as Henry asks, “Do you know how to play that?”

Learning to play that simple, weirdly addictive little game was one of the staples of their Granny’s dates, in the first year she lived in Storybrooke. Every time they would sit and eat together, without fail, Henry would pull out the little piece of wood from behind the napkin dispenser and move the little pegs around. Emma caught herself doing it a few times, too, even when Henry wasn’t with her. Just stabbing the little golf tee picks into their tiny holes while she waited for her food. It was weirdly satisfying and oddly addicting.

And now Henry has forgotten it.

For all the memories they share of their “pretty good” life back in the big city, she knows there are a dozen more here, in this quiet, strange, terrifying little town. And while she wouldn’t trade that year she had with just her and Henry for anything in the world, she can’t help but grieve the loss of the memories she made with him here, in Storybrooke.

Hook’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts. “Aye. Want me to teach you?”

Of course he knows how to play the silly little peg game. She watches as he explains, simply, the right strategy to win in the fewest moves. Hook slides the piece of wood over to Henry, who takes it and flips it around, eager to try for himself.

Perhaps emboldened by the fact that he doesn’t have to look at Hook when he asks, and can instead stare down at the little wooden pegs, Henry asks, as casually as possible, “So, how’d you lose your hand?”

“Henry,” Emma starts. She can’t help the sound of a scold that wraps around her tone.

“It’s fine,” Killian says easily, though this time he doesn’t look at Emma to give an answer for him. His left arm had been relaxing across his lap; he shifts, and brings his forearm up to rest on the table. For the most part, he had taken to wearing his prosthetic hand around Henry, in lieu of the hook. Emma and her son both can’t help but stare at it as Killian rests it on the table.

If she’s honest, Emma misses the hook. If she’s honest, she never really actually thinks of Hook as an amputee. She’s seen him make a few creative alterations to movements more able-bodied people would traditionally use two hands for, sure. Using his teeth to pull a cork from its bottle, or to sexily tie a scarf around her bleeding hand, for one.

She knows he’s missing a hand. Logically, she knows this. She called him “Hook” 99.9% of the time, until she had to stop when Henry was around. It rolled off her tongue so easily, and several times, she’s had to stop herself from blurting it out in front of Henry. But it’s almost as if half the time it doesn’t even register in her brain that there are some things he can’t do as easily or as quickly as other people.

Now, as she stares down at the leather-wrapped prosthetic on the table in front of her, she finds herself missing the namesake to his more colorful moniker. To her utter horror, when she realizes she’s been very obviously staring, she glances up at Hook’s face, and she finds he’s been watching her for a while now. Emma feels heat pool in her cheeks instantly, and she leans back. But graciously, Killian only smiles softly at her, seeming, yet again, to read her thoughts easily. As if he knows she misses the hook. The bastard has the audacity to wink at her.

Oblivious to the unspoken conversation happening right beside him between his mom and the strange man across from him, Henry pipes up, “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.” He sounds nervous, like he realizes the gravity of his social blunder and suddenly wants to give Killian an out. “Really. I… I’m sorry I asked.” He shoots an apologetic look to Emma, who tries her best to look stern.

There’s a moment of silence that stretches out between them where Emma genuinely doesn’t know what Hook is going to say next. So many directions this conversation could go, so many versions of the truth, the unbelievable truth, that he could go with. Emma is very aware that she’s holding her breath, but she can’t seem to let it go until Killian says something. It’s the one thing in this moment she feels like she has control over.

“Truth be told, lad,” Killian finally says on the end of a sigh, “It happened so long ago, I hardly remember what it’s like having two hands.”

Emma releases the air she’d been holding captive in her lungs, and in place of the tightness in her airway comes a little pang in her heart. She knows this story, but she’s never asked him about this story. They’ve never talked about that moment, just the two of them, when Milah was murdered right in front of him, and then he had his hand cut off. It’s horrible, truly. She takes the horror of it for granted, and she suddenly very much does not want Henry to hear this story, even in whatever veiled shape Hook wants to tell it. It’s Killian’s story, his hand that was lost, and it’s his right to tell Henry whatever he wants about it. Emma’s heart grieves for this man before her and the tremendous losses that have shaped him. But she does not want her son to hear this story. She’s not even sure she wants to hear this story.

Life has softened Emma too much, she fears, because while she imagines herself as being quite tough and immune to the awfulness of the world, she knows these feelings are showing quite clearly on her face and in her eyes, which are shining just a little brighter as she watches Hook. He looks up abruptly, meeting her gaze, and her heart leaps like she’s just been jump scared.

“So you were just a kid when it happened?” Henry asks, and Hook huffs out a little laugh through his nose.

“Not exactly, no.”

Henry frowns. “I don’t understand.”

Emma doesn’t envy either of them in this moment, but she especially does not envy Hook, whom she watches with nothing but sympathy.

And in the end, Hook goes for the blunt, almost-truth of the matter. “Lost it to a Crocodile.” When he looks up at Henry, it’s with a smirk playing across his features. One that Emma sees right through.

Henry’s mouth falls open in shock, like that was literally the last thing he was expecting Killian to say. “No way! Seriously? A crocodile bit your hand off?”

Even Hook can’t disguise the smile—a genuine one, this time—that comes over his face at Henry’s utter, boyish exuberance at this answer. Emma’s heart swells an extra size, watching them. Of course Henry would think that was awesome, the idea of someone’s hand getting bitten off by what is essentially a modern-day dinosaur. “Aye,” Hook says, shooting Emma a knowing glance. “As I said, I lost my hand to a Crocodile.”

“What, like in Australia or something?” Henry asks.

“Something like that.”

The beauty of this moment is that Hook doesn’t even really have to lie to Henry. He seemingly doesn’t have to do anything more than slightly bend the truth; Henry’s too amped up to even listen to the full answers to his questions, and Killian can continue to dole out the most vague answers on the planet.

“Did you live there?” Henry asks. “When you were a kid?”

“Lad, I’ve lived in and seen more places than I care to count,” Hook says, with a gleam in his eyes, “And none of them, I assure you, are more interesting and alluring than this very town.”

Emma doesn’t imagine his gaze flitting over to her when he says the word “alluring”. She knows she doesn’t. And yet, he’s so quick about it, keeping his focus entirely on her son, that she can’t be sure.

“Really?” Henry asks, dubious. “This town? Storybrooke?”

“Aye,” Killian says, “I promise you, my boy. There’s more to this place than meets the eye. You just have to be willing to see, for yourself.”

It’s the kind of answer an old, wizened Santa Claus would tell a kid in a Christmas movie about a town that was secretly the North Pole or something. It’s probably the corniest thing she’s ever heard him say that wasn’t a pickup line. And yet, Emma is surprised to find warmth prick her eyes at his attempt to make Henry feel more at home here, more interested in this town that her city boy son has written off entirely as Boringville, USA. And she gets that—she really does. She didn’t exactly think Storybrooke was hip-hop and happenin’ when she first rolled into town, either.

Then again, she also didn’t think it was full of fairytale characters. Literal royalty from another realm. Evil queens with magic. Humanoid crickets, for God’s sake. Henry’s family is here. Whether he knows it or not, everyone in this town knows him, and so many of those people love him, would die for him in a heartbeat. And while she can’t pretend she isn’t ready to take him back to New York City the second this is all over, it hurts her heart that he doesn’t even remember those people.

All talk of special towns and missing hands cease, however, as Ruby returns and sets a massive, loaded pizza in front of them.

Emma has the satisfaction of watching Hook’s eyes go wide. And whatever she expected him to say, it isn’t the ineloquent, “Whoa,” that falls from his mouth. Emma and Ruby both can’t help but laugh at him.

“Looks pretty great, huh?” Henry says, already grabbing himself a plate and eying the slice he wants.

“One life-changing pizza, as ordered!” Ruby says with a grin. “Prepare to be dazzled, Captain.”

Henry looks over at Emma, mouthing Captain?

“Navy,” Emma whispers, thinking quick on her feet. Henry shrugs and starts piling his plate up with pizza. He carefully positions his chosen slices to make room for the fries that Ruby sets in front of him.

“There we go, folks,” Ruby says, leaning back with her hand on her hip to inspect the table. “Anything else we need? Refill on that beer, Killian?”

Emma gives a mental tip of her hat to Ruby for how easily the name Killian rolls off her tongue, like she’s said it a thousand times. Hook, for his part, looks momentarily taken aback that she even knows his given name. “Uh, yes,” he says, “Sure, I’ll take another.”

It’s a true delight, Emma finds, to see one of the most eloquent, loquacious people she knows (next to Gold, probably, which is a noticed similarity she will not be sharing with Hook) so continuously dumbfounded. It brings her great joy, actually, to keep seeing him rendered speechless by such average things.

“Sure thing.” Ruby nods and reaches over to snatch up his empty mug. “Coming right up.”

Ruby leaves, and Emma shakes her head at the absurdity of it all. A werewolf, giving a refill to a pirate of a beer that was illegally home brewed by a dwarf. What even is her life anymore? These are the things she didn’t even know she was missing in New York. Not for the first time, there’s a pang in her heart as she wishes she could share in the joke with Henry. She looks over at her son, watches him squirt ketchup over his fries like he’s trying to torture information out of them. Something of these thoughts must show on her face, because after a moment, she feels a little bump on the toe of her boot. When she looks up, Killian is looking at her, his expression soft, and he offers her a small smile.

It’ll be all right, Swan, his eyes seem to say, and she feels herself relax a fraction. She smiles back at him, thankful.

Whatever moment that’s happening between them is interrupted by Henry. “Killian,” he says, though the name is turned to absolute mush by the food in his mouth, “Pizza!”

“Good Lord,” Emma says, shaking her head at him, “Who raised you, kid? Don’t talk with your mouth so full.”

Henry takes a few gulps from his Sprite, swallowing it all down. “Ah, sorry. I said, ‘Killian, pizza.’”

Hook, for his part, looks thoroughly amused. “Yes, lad, I’d gathered that.” He looks down at their gigantic round entree with what can only be described as suspicion. “Do I just dig in then? No forks with you savages?”

Emma huffs a laugh. “Only weirdos eat pizza with a fork.” Though, as she watches Henry hang onto a particularly large piece with two hands, she adds, “Unless that’s easier for you. Then be as weird as you want.”

Killian waves off any concern on her part with a flick of his hand. “When in Storybrooke, eat as the Storybrookians do and all that.” He slips a slice of pizza off the stand, letting it fall onto a plate with an audible plop, which he frowns down at.

“Storybrookians?” Emma laughs. “No way. There’s got to be something better than that out there.”

Hook shrugs, quirking a brow at her. “I’ll have to check with the mayor.”

“She’s nice,” Henry pipes up, mouth blessedly less full this time. “She took me out for ice cream.”

Emma and Hook, for what feels like the thousandth time this evening, swap glances. Henry, too engrossed in his pizza, doesn’t seem to notice. Moments later, when Ruby returns with Killian’s beer, being the spectacular mind reader she apparently is, she also comes bearing another Sprite for Henry and a second iced tea for Emma.

“You’re amazing,” Emma tells her.

“I know,” Ruby responds with a wink. “I’ll come check on you guys in a bit. If you need anything, just give a whistle.” She turns on her heel and heads back toward the kitchen, leaving them alone with their life-changing pizza.

“All right,” Emma says, and her tone sings time’s up, buddy. “Eat up or shut up.”

Killian chuckles, shaking his head at her. “That the saying, is it?”

“Yup,” Emma says, popping the “P” on the end. “Sure is. Pizza time. Time to really become a man of the times.” Hook eyes the loaded slice of pizza on his plate skeptically, and Emma thinks of young Simba right before he tried a grub for the first time. “Hakuna matata, pal.”

Henry, immediately getting the reference, laughs loudly at her side, and Emma beams. Hook looks between the two of them, once again a confused, eyeliner-wearing puppy. The poor man shakes his head, as if he’s just completely done trying to understand everything they say, and as they continue to snicker at his expense, he reaches down, scoops up his slice of pizza with his hand, and takes a bite of it. The thing is so loaded up with toppings that a few black olives abandon ship and fall back down to the plate with a soft tink.

They both watch him expectantly. Hook, being the good sport he is, lets them stare at them while he eats. He swallows, then washes the rest of it down with a swig of beer.

Emma and Henry give him a solid three seconds before they say, simultaneously, “Well?”

“I’ve certainly had worse, by way of sustenance.” Hook says, shrugging, and they both groan.

“Are you kidding me?” Emma says. “You try pizza for the first time and that’s all you have to say about it? You’ve had better?”

“I believe what I said was that I’ve had worse food, Swan,” Hook clarifies, pointing at her with the prosthetic hand, “Which is a compliment.”

“In what realm is that a compliment?”

“He’s right,” comes Henry’s sigh. “This pizza is mid at best.”

Mid? Killian mouths to Emma. She shrugs, for once just as lost as he is.

“The pizza back in New York is way better,” Henry says, and Emma can’t argue with that.

“He’s right. New York City does pizza like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Yeah,” Henry says, “Remember the cart guy by our apartment that would sell it by the slice?”

“Yes!” Emma cries. “Pizza Phil!”

“You bought pizza from a man in a cart?” Killian asks, looking truly befuddled, clearly envisioning some kind of horse and buggy roadside pizza situation in the congested streets of New York City.

“Not that kind of cart,” Emma clarifies with a smile. “Like a little… stand, I guess. He’d make it there, in this brick oven on wheels thing he had, and then he’d just sell it by the slice.”

“It was awesome,” Henry says emphatically. “Best pizza in town. Sometimes Mom would let me have it for breakfast on our way to school.”

“Yeah, well,” Emma says wryly, “Those weren’t exactly my best mothering moments. Sometimes we overslept, and pizza for breakfast it was.”

“I disagree,” Henry says around his straw, as he finishes off the last of his second Sprite. Another not great mothering moment, Emma thinks to herself. But tonight is a special night. Henry goes on, “I think those were actually your best mothering moments.”

“And this cart man’s pizza was better?” Hook asks, slowly, making a very valiant effort to keep up with them. “Back in New York City?”

“New York pizza has a thinner crust,” Emma explains. “So you get more of the cheese and toppings. It’s pretty great.”

“The best,” Henry asserts. “I wish we could have had you try it before we came here.” There’s something wistful in his tone that hurts Emma’s heart. She knows full well the bagels, pizza, and honestly food in general in Storybrooke leave much to be desired, and that her son misses the big city. She wants to make it up to him, somehow. He’s been so patient with her, through all this, and so trusting, and her heart swells with affection for him.

“Alas,” Hook says, with a wry look to Emma, “My experience with New York City cuisine leaves much to be desired.” Vaguely, she remembers something about barbaric brigs and being force fed something called bologna. She shakes her head at him, though she doesn’t even bother trying to hide her laughter.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emma says with a roll of her eyes. “All right, so we’re not as well-traveled as you are. Sue us. We’re simple folk. We like our pizza.”

“And I will not begrudge you for that, Swan.”

“Are there any other pizza places in town?” Henry pipes up.

“I don’t… actually know,” Emma says, glancing at Hook, who shrugs.

“We should definitely find out,” Henry says. “We gotta try everything this town has to offer while we’re here, and compare it to back home.”

Emma’s heart squeezes. She can feel Killian’s eyes on her, but she knows if she looks at him, she’s going to lose the battle against the tears suddenly pricking her eyes. Her voice is a little husky when she answers with, “Yeah, kid. Sure thing.”

“You’ll come with us?” Henry asks, looking to Hook. “Be brave again, try some more pizza?”

Hook chuckles lowly, but nods and says, “I think I can be brave, Henry."

“Good,” Henry says, and the grin that lights up her son’s face makes Emma’s breath catch in her throat. He has the best smile, and she hasn’t seen it enough lately.

They finish their pizza, or as much of it as they can eat, with Henry making the biggest dent. Hook, brave as he is, finishes his slice, and then dares to go for a second, which Emma counts as a win. She doesn’t keep Henry up too late, but they stay late into the evening, much later than Emma had originally intended when she took her son to Granny’s for a hot chocolate and offered to buy Hook a beer.

And for the first time in a long time, with wicked green witches, curses, her son’s missing memories, and flying monkeys abounding, a peace settles into Emma’s heart. And for the first time in a long time, at least for this moment, she truly feels like everything really is going to be okay.

#captain swan #csss2024 #captain swan secret santa 2024 #cs ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan fanfiction #emma swan #killian jones #henry mills #captain cobra #IDK what else to tag this #PIZZA

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im-up-to-shenanigans · 15 days ago

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Rating: T

Summary: Henry needs a dad. That's fine. Emma can deal with that.

The problem? Neal wants more.

The second problem? Emma keeps running into Hook and, despite trying to keep it friendly between them, finds herself falling in love.

Merry Christmas to @stubblesandwich !! I'm your secret santa!! Hope you enjoy some season 3, post-Neverland pining :)

Written for @cssecretsanta2020

#csss2024 #captain swan secret santa #my fic #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan

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cssecretsanta2020 · 1 month ago

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Check IN

Hi Hello everyone! SO sorry i have been away for a moment and lost track of the days. I am getting back to everyones asks and messages now so please check and get back to me as soon as possible.

This is a the check in point please follow the instructions below

LIKE if you have been contacted by your secret santa.

REPLY to this post with a sad face :( if you have not been contacted by your secret santa.

REBLOG to signal boost this post so all participating can respond.

#captain swan #cs fanfic #cs fanart #cs gif #emma swan #killian jones #csss #cssecretsanta #csss2024 #cssecretsanta2024

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killiansprincss · 16 days ago

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Nobody gets me like you - a CS Secret Santa gift

Merry Christmas @captainodonoghue , I am your @cssecretsanta2020 2024! It's been great getting to know you and I hope you enjoy your fic! It’s filled with sad angsty killian!

Thanks to @brucethegirl for being an incredible beta, for your intense editing on Christmas Eve night and also being there to listen to my rambles about my ideas and what would make most sense!

Summary: Emma Swan is single again for the holiday. Sick of her brother trying to set her up she enlists the help of best friend Killian Jones to be her fake boyfriend. What happens when the liens between friendship begin to blur and Emma begins questioning their relationship

Rated E for smut

Link to AO3

Emma turned 30 two months ago. She was in no rush to be married by now. So why did it bother her so much when she opened up her Instagram and saw yet another girl she went to high school with announcing her engagement, ‘Best christmas present santa ever got me’ ugh. The holidays were going to be a nightmare for cringey announcements like this.

“So I had a really great time, you uh wanna come back to mine?” Emma forgot for a second she was meant to be on a first date, this one from another app she spent far too much time on.

From his profile, he was nice, he had a good job, and nice hair. No holding a fish which was always a bonus. But he was just so, well, boring. He talked about his job non stop, something to do with either finance or consulting or business management. He worked at one of the largest firms in Manhattan as if that was meant to mean anything to her. But in the hour they’d been having drinks, he’d not asked a single thing about her or her life, and Emma doubts it’s because he knows everything about her already considering she keeps her dating profile pretty basic.

“Sorry I would but I have an early shift tomorrow. I’ll text you.” She has no intention of texting him, he’ll probably have forgotten her name by the time he gets home.

She opens her uber app once she’s outside the bar and of course there are no drivers nearby for 40 minutes. Great. As she’s about to go down the subway her phone lights up and her plans for the night change.

‘How fast can you get to O’Malleys?’

‘Give me 15 minutes. Make sure there's a martini with my name on it.

Killian. Her best friend since she was 14. The two of them both moved to the city after high school, Kilian went to NYU and is a high school history teacher, Emma tried college for a semester but dropped out, and now works in bail bonds. They’ve kept up their friendship for so long and Emma can’t imagine her life without him. Tonight was one of the many times they’d meet up after a horrible first date, they were both extremely unlucky in the romance department.

“Swan.” Emma gets to the bar in less than 15 minutes and sees Killian sitting at their usual spot with her drink waiting for her.

“So, what was wrong with her tonight? Vegan?” She guesses, “No gotta be a catfish, her profile said she was a scandinavian model but her photos were taken from some random instagram model?”

Killian smirks at her guesses. “She wasn’t…” He pauses to take a sip of his beer, “She was nice, but something was missing, I don’t know. And she was funny about my hand I guess.” Killian lost his hand a few years ago when he was in an accident with his brother, Killian was lucky to get away with just a missing hand.

“Well she’s a jackass. She might have gotten on with my date he was shallow as fuck too. I should’ve gone home and binged the rest of Love Island, given that Austin seemed only interested in talking about himself.”

Killian shakes his head, “rookie mistake, letting a beautiful girl sit there whilst you talk about yourself incessantly.”

Killian was a notorious flirt, he could get any girl he wanted. Dark hair, blue eyes and a hot accent, Emma never understood why he had such trouble with dating.

They chat about their failed dates some more, and talk about work. It was nice that she didn't need to be anyone uber successful around Killian, she could just be her normal broke self with a crappy apartment and a junk food addiction.

“So I got my invite to your brother's annual Christmas party the other day.”

Emma groans, “Don’t remind me of that please.” Emma’s older brother David was the epitome of perfect white picket fence life. He married his childhood sweetheart in an adorable backyard wedding and is sheriff of their small town. She loved her brother dearly, but hated how much his life was perfect and that he expected the same of her. Every year he throws a huge Christmas party and invites all their friends and family, which is a large percentage of their small town. But every year except one she has turned up single, and her brother would ask why and try and set her up which she always turns down.

“At least you still have a brother.” Killian mumbles under his breath. Killian had never really been the same since the accident, they’d had a huge fight with their alcoholic father and the roads were icy. Liam shouldn’t have been driving, he was in no state to drive and unfortunately they got hit.

“Well if you need me to help you fight your dad, I can do that.” Emma offers with a smile, she saw first hand how broken Killian was when Liam died. Liam practically raised Killian with their dad being an alcoholic who resented Killian, Liam was the perfect son and for some reason when their father would get drunk, he’d take his anger out on Killian.

“Thanks Swan, but I don’t know if I’m going to come this year.” Christmas was hard for Killian, especially given Liam died on Christmas Eve.

“No. Killian you have to come.” She grabs his arm and gives him her best puppy dog eyes. “I can’t survive the holidays alone with my brother trying to set me up.” Emma pauses for a second debating if she should share her sudden thought.

Unfortunately Kilian could read her like an open book, “Swan. I know that look.”

‘Hear me out.” She says and Killian groans at whatever this new idea was. “You be my fake boyfriend for the holidays. Think about it, it means my brother won’t be setting me up with anyone, and people will leave you alone and not ask you the dreaded ‘how are you feeling’ questions because you’re obviously happily moved on with your girlfriend.”

“Swan, you’re a bloody lunatic.”

“It’s only until New Years. It can work in both our favour. Think about it.” Emma had a way about her that made it so difficult for Killian to say no to her.

“I’ll think about it.” He promises and Emma smiles knowing she’d won.

____________

Emma’s in her apartment a couple days later, she’s just finished work and has changed into her comfiest pair of sweatpants that may or may not have a stain on them from when she was eating Chinese food last week. It’s been a long day and she was in no mood for drinks after work. She’s about to open up doordash when she hears a knock on her door.

She opens the door to find Killian on the other side, a massive box of pizza. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your fake boyfriend.”

Emma smiles brightly as she takes the pizza from his hands. She knew he would do this for her.

“We need some ground rules.” Killian tells her.

“I agree. We also need a story of how this happened. I’m thinking we ran into each other after we both had a bad first date, got talking and drinking and one thing led to another-“

Killian interrupts before she says any more “I’m gonna stop you there Swan. I’m not letting your brother believe I got you drunk and slept with you to trick you into going out with me. He’ll come for my head.”

Emma rolls her eyes, taking a sip of wine as Killian continues. “How about we simply decided we hated being single and went on a date and realised we’d been missing out by just being friends all these years.”

“You’re brilliant and I hate it.” She says. Her stubbornness couldn’t fault his idea. Her phone rings and she realises it’s her brother facetiming her. “Speak of the devil, now’s your chance to fake it, Jones.”

“Hey Emma, how’s my baby sister?” David says as she answers, she hated that he called her that.

“Your little sister is doing just fine.” She corrects, “I have food.” She holds up her slice of pizza. Her brother was a bit of a health nut, he and his wife were trying and failing to get pregnant so they were both trying all the remedies under the sun.

“Pizza? Really? I knew living in New York was rotting your brain.” He teases.

“Hey don’t blame Emma, mate.” Killian says from beside her and he pulls Emma’s phone to face him, “I’m the enabler. She’s had a shitty week at work and pizza is a comfort food, it’s healthy when you think about it.” For whatever reason her brother always liked Killian, saying he was a good influence on her.

“Killian! How are you man? Keeping my baby sister out of trouble?” It’s not unusual for Killian to be at her apartment, or for her to be as his, so David doesn’t question it at first. They catch up for a while, Killian tells David about his job and the kids he teaches, David’s wife is an elementary school teacher so they chat about the holidays and how some kids are off the rails this time of year.

“Is there any way I can convince you to come back for the holidays?” David asks and suddenly Emma is ready to spring back into action.

“Already convinced him. We’re coming home so you can expect a great Christmas Eve Party.” Emma snatches her phone back and puts her head on Killians shoulder for effect.

David doesn’t realise the implication at first and starts going on about how great it’ll be to see Killian again and how he can prepare the other guest bedroom. “No mate, Emma and I are together, so we’re coming together to your place.”

David is slow once again, “I heard. It’ll be so great. Oh Emma, I know you say you don’t want to but there’s this teacher Mary Margaret works with and he seems like a really great guy.”

“No. David, Killian and I are together, so we’ll be coming together.” She says once more.

“I heard you. I think it’s great you’re both coming.”

“Mate, she’s my girlfriend is what we’re trying to say.” Killian eventually interrupts, putting them both out of their misery.

“You’re serious? This isn’t a prank?” Her brother asks.

They both shake their heads, “I wouldn’t joke about dating your sister, mate.

Emma is worried about what he’s going to say, but eventually he’s gushing with happiness, “I’m so happy. I always thought you two would be so great together, but it never happened and I’d given up hope.”

Emma wasn’t shocked by his reaction. He would always pester her about why she and Killian were never together during high school, and when they went off to college together the pestering questions began again. Part of her wondered if this was a mistake. If her brother was so invested in their relationship, what would happen once they broke it off in the new year?

_________

Their flight from JFK into Maine gets them in at just after 3pm, they’d spent the hour flight going over ground rules on their relationship.

PDA - Emma was never a huge engager in PDA but they would also get suspicious if they barely touched one another. So small cheek or forehead kisses were okay. They weren’t horny teenagers.

No need to share a bed. Emma was always hosted in the large guest room, it was her room until she moved out and David would never dream of anyone else sleeping there when Emma was in town. In the room was a sofa by the window, they would alternate who gets the bed and who gets the sofa each night.

Keep the relationship casual. They haven’t been dating for too long so they don’t have plans to move in, get engaged or have kids. They’re having fun being together and that’s all it needs to be.

“You need to put your arm around me.” Emma whispers just as they’re about to go through the arrivals gate. “We need to look like a couple or else he’ll see right through the lie.”

Kilian wraps his arm around her waist and uses his free hand to carry both their suitcases as a good boyfriend would and Emma looks at her fake boyfriend with a smile. They had to get this right.

They walk through the gate like this, smiling at one another so they don’t even see David at first.

“Emma, how is my baby sister?” He asks, wrapping her a hug , “Killian, I’m glad you decided to come.”

“Hey mate, thanks for the invite. I couldn’t really say no to this one.” He says wrapping his arm around Emma once again.

“So, how long has this been going on? And why is now the first I’m hearing about it?” David asks as they walk out towards the car.

Emma glances a look at her fake boyfriend, he’s taken the bait. “It’s still kinda new. I thought you’d be happy. You keep asking me when I’m gonna meet someone and you like Killian.” She tries to keep it casual, she doesn’t want to make out like Kilian is the love of her life and break her family's hearts when she tells them they broke up.

“I am happy Emma. I’m thrilled actually! You two together, gosh it’s perfect. Mary Margaret was so excited when I told her.” Part of her wanted to believe her brother was happy about this relationship because she’d found someone, but part of her knew it was because it was Killian.

The drive from the airport to Storybrooke takes just over an hour, David asks questions about their new relationship, but he seems happy with the few details they provide. His main concerns are with Emma and how her job is going, if she’s eating well and her rent, he’d always been her big brother but a lot of the time he acted like a father. But Emma didn’t really mind. Soon enough they’re parked up in front of the house that Emma first felt at home in.

Walking through the doors into the familiar scent of Mary Margaret's cinnamon cookies baking in the oven, she’s reminded of the first day she walked through these halls, 14 years old, gangly and skinny with greasy hair and hungry. She’d never had a home that lasted more than a few months so as much as she wanted it to feel like home, she wasn’t going to get her hopes up. But then a few weeks turned into months and months into years and she was adopted when she turned 16. But Ruth and David loved her from the moment she turned up and she owed everything to them.

“Emma! There you are, come here I missed you” a voice from the kitchen says and out walks Mary Margaret with her pixie cut and warm heart that would make anyone feel calm. Mary Margaret and David were childhood sweethearts, so when Emma was around so was she. She was like a big sister, teaching her how to do makeup and helping braid her hair and was also a listening ear when she got a crush on a guy in her class, and then when Ruth got sick, she became like a mother.

“I missed you too.” Emma says as she hugs her, and she means it. This small town she grew up in was always going to be home.

Mary Margaret’s eyes land on Killian and she gives him a soft smile, her own mother died on Christmas when she was only 7, so she understands how difficult the holidays are for him. “I hear you’re joining our family at last.”

Killian looks like a deer in headlights, “I- uh- It’s still new with Emma. It’s not like I’ve proposed marriage.” He stumbles, “Not that marrying Emma would be a bad thing, she’s a great girl and I care about her.” He was struggling and Emma kind of enjoyed watching him suffer.

“I’m just teasing you, don't worry.” Mary Margaret says as her husband comes in the door. “You’re always welcome here and always a part of the family, whether you’re dating Emma or not. This one has a special knack for picking up strays.” She puts her hand on her husband’s chest, it was obvious to anyone the two were in love, had been since they were kids. Mary Margaret spent most of her time at David’s, especially when her father married a 20 something year old after her mother’s death.

Mary Margaret shows them to the guest room. Emma knew the two had been renovating the house and getting brand new furniture but what she wasn’t expecting was instead of the usual sofa by the window, there were now two armchairs and a bookshelf. The large queen sized bed in the middle of the room looked a lot smaller, too.

“I thought you said there was a sofa.” Killian says once Mary Margaret had left the room.

Emma sighs, “they’ve been redecorating. Guess they decided a sofa was unnecessary.” Rule 2. Damn it.

“I’ll take the floor.” Killian says.

“Absolutely not. It’s a big enough bed.” She tells him trying to convince herself more than him. “We just stick to our sides. No reason for it to get messy.”

—

Killian takes a shower first, leaving Emma to unpack and get her head screwed on. Dinner was just going to be the family, so it wasn’t going to be a huge event like the Christmas Eve party. It would just be the four of them and the grilling over their relationship would begin. She could handle it, they would work together.

“Sorry love, but do you know if there's a spare toothbrush anywhere? I thought I’d packed mine but it seems I forgot.” She turns around to tell Killian to check the drawer under the sink and is left speechless at the sight of Killian in just his towel, bare chest on show and the towel wrapped around his waist.

She’d seen Killian shirtless before, they’d been to the beach and she’d seen him running a few times with no shirt but something about this was different. His hair was still wet from the shower and she was very aware how naked he was under the towel, one wrong move and it could easily fall off and Emma’s mind wandered to what was underneath. She knew he was an attractive man, you’d be blind not to notice that, but he’d always been Killian-her best friend who had braces when she first met him and who had acne until he was out of his teens. He wasn’t meant to be, well, hot.

“Earth to Emma.” He says waving a hand in front of her face, hopefully unaware of where her mind was headed.

She managed to snap herself out of it, “right. Sorry, uh-bottom right cabinet under the sink.”

It was going to be a long week.

_____

Dinner was just the four of them at the house. It’s not a big deal, they’ve had dinner with her brother and sister-in-law many times over the years as friends. Except this time Killian presses a kiss to her cheek as they sit down and he pours her a glass of wine without her even asking. As far as fake boyfriends go he was pretty good.

“So how did you finally wear my sister down?” David asks, this conversation was inevitable, but they were prepared.

Killian smiles as he takes the lead, “Emma’s been my best friend for years and I don’t know what I’d do without her in my life. I mean I hope she thinks the same of me. I don’t think I’m ready to settle down just yet, but I’m so sick of dating apps, the girl seems nice but then I never hear from her again or I get stood up. I think Emma felt the same. So we went out on a practice date I guess to see how it went, and it wasn’t weird, it didn’t feel wrong, it felt like we were late to the game in just dating each other.”

Leaning into her role Emma adds, “He’s Killian. I’ve been on a ton of awful dates lately, but I know where I am with Killian.”

“It reminds me of when me and David started going out. Granted we were 14 and had no idea what we were doing. But being best friends with the person you spend your life with is the best thing.”

“We’re not getting married, this is still new. Don’t freak us out.” Emma scoffs, really hating how much they we loving this conversation.

“Maybe not. But we might be sitting here in a few years with a different situation.” Emma can only roll her eyes, this was a bad idea.

___

“I’m sorry about them. If I had known they’d be so excited about the thought of us together I would never have suggested it.” She says to Killian once they’re back in their room for the night.

“It’s fine, Swan. We make a good team, you and I. It's no wonder they love the idea of us together. Now are you sure about sharing as I can happily take the floor?”

It’s not that sharing a bed with Killian would be a bad thing, it’s that she’s not shared a bed with anyone when sex wasn’t involved. Even with Graham they were dating for about a year but she never just slept over in his bed. She’d done one night stands but she’d never woken up the next morning, she would get out there as soon as she was done. Sex wasn’t intimate, but sharing a bed, that was about as intimate as she could get. “It was my idea for you to be my fake boyfriend, I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.”

That night they go to sleep on their assigned sides and Emma sleeps well knowing their plan was working, her family believed their relationship and they just had to get through the next week. It was going to be fine.

Except it isn’t fine. When she wakes up Emma is aware of being warm, and becomes aware of two things:

Emma had managed to get herself entangled in Killians hold during the night, she was aware of his arm draped across her pulling her in close, so close she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck

He was hard….

This was bad. Very bad

It was a natural reaction, it was just likely that Killian hadn’t gotten any action recently and his body just became familiar to a female body nearby, it didn’t mean anything, Killian wasn’t hard because of her.

Emma shifts herself slowly, not wanting to wake Killian. She just needed to move his arm from around her. She stops for a moment when she hears a soft grunt. “Mma.” Thinking nothing of it, she manages to move his arm and shift herself so she’s now facing him rather than being spooned by him and pretends to be asleep.

But that’s when the muttering begins again, “Emma.” It’s clear as day this time. He was dreaming about her, and he was hard. This was fine, again maybe he wasn’t having a sex dream maybe it was a perfectly normal, pretty platonic dream about her fighting an ogre or something.

She’s aware of Killian waking up but she keeps her eyes closed and pretends she’s still asleep just to avoid any awkwardness when he realises his situation. But then she feels his hand on her face and is aware of him pushing a piece of hair aside before she feels the bed dip where he’s gotten out. It was a strange thing to do but she doesn’t question it as he walks into the bathroom and she hears the shower.

Her mind is betraying her as she thinks about the past 5 minutes. Killian, her best friend and fake boyfriend woke up hard, was saying her name in his sleep and now the shower was on and there was a high chance he was letting off steam in the shower. Was he thinking about her when he rubbed his dick? Was he imagining it was her hand instead of his own? Did that get him off, thinking about her?

No. She shouldn’t be thinking like that. He was Killian, her best friend. She didn’t think about him like that, and he didn’t think of her like that. Unless he did and then Emma was royally screwed.

Breakfast is fine, maybe Emma is a little skittish when Killian hands her a mug of coffee and a bear claw but she claims she didn’t sleep well and he doesn’t question it. She needed to get laid in the new year, that was all it was.

The two are tasked with setting up the barn for the party tomorrow. David and Mary Margaret don’t have any animals, they always say it’s their long term plan, so for now they use the barn for parties such as this. So the flooring is fine, they just have to pick up some space heaters and finish up the decorations.

“I’ll go pick up the heaters, they’re at Granny’s and I want to catch up with Ruby so we’ll meet back here in an hour?” Emma suggests, she knows Killian would want to be alone and spend time at Liam’s grave since there won’t be much time tomorrow on the actual anniversary.

Granny’s diner was run by an old lady who somehow defies aging, it had the small town charm that a chain didn’t have and she missed it when she was in the city. Her granddaughter Ruby was one of Emma's closest friends when they were both in high school, Emma keeps in touch but it's never the same as seeing her in person.

“Emma Swan, you come home for Christmas and you don’t think to tell your best friend about your boyfriend?” Ruby was always one for dramatics.

She pulls her friend into a hug, “Hello to you too, Rubes. And I’ve been here less than 24 hours. How does everyone know about my relationship?” If it were a real relationship, Ruby would be one of the first people to know.

Ruby rolls her eyes, “You’ve become too accustomed to city life, you forget how fast news travels in a small town.”

“I was going to tell you, but then it all happened so fast and-“ she stops as she notices her friend couldn’t stop smiling. “Why are you smiling?”

“I’m happy for you Emma. I just can’t believe it's taken you this long to figure shit out with Killian. What happened that made you finally realise what you’d been missing?’

“This is why I didn’t want people knowing, my brother keeps acting like we’re going to get married. It's still new, I don’t know if it's because I didn’t tell my brother the truth that we actually got drunk and slept together and he was like really good in bed, like so good. We decided to test dating rather than an awkward friends-with-benefits situation. I don’t know what's going to happen to us in the future, but for now it's fun and not too serious.” Emma’s story was getting a little out of hand, but since this morning she had tried to stop thinking about Killians hard dick and how good it would feel inside her. She’d never given much thought to having sex with him until this morning.

“You and Killian are the opposite of fun and not too serious. He’s been in love with you since your first day here. He’s not going to run away unless you-”

“What do you mean? He hasn’t been in love with me since he was 15. That’s crap.” He wasn’t in love with her, she was determined.

“Killian was applying for Ivy Leagues, he probably got offers from Yale and Harvard, but he chose NYU because that’s where you wanted to go.”

“He told me NYU had a better history programme.” She remembers their conversation, she knew he was applying for a ton of schools and knew he was good enough to get into an Ivy League-but Killian was never about getting into the best school he just wanted to get away from his dad. “He’s not in love with me, he would’ve told me.”

Would he have told her though? They never seemed to be single at the same time. When Emma was 16 she started hanging around Neal, he was older and he seemed so cool to a foster kid who was used to stealing food to survive. He had his own studio apartment just outside of town and he always wore fancy clothes and bought Emma expensive gifts. He made her feel special, that was until he got caught stealing watches from a department store. Then when she was single during her first semester in college, that's when Killian got involved with his TA, she was older than him and Emma’s pretty sure she was married but she knew he was going through a pretty dark time in his life so she was not one to judge.

Then Emma started dating Graham, he was an NYPD cop she met doing bail bonds and for the next few years Killian was at college working on his degree, so they didn’t interact much. Their friendship took a back seat when they weren’t around one another every day or living 5 minutes from another. Emma was in a shitty studio apartment in Queens whereas Killian’s NYU residences were in Manhattan. Graham was nice but it just didn’t work out and when Emma got promoted and earned enough money to move to a nice one bed apartment in Brooklyn, Killian was burnt out after almost 5 years of studying and moved back to Storybrooke. That didn’t last long as he turned up at her apartment one night with a black eye and Emma didn’t have to ask who did that to him.

Their friendship could’ve easily taken a turn for something else that night, but it didn’t. Killian just broke down about losing Liam and how his father can’t stand the sight of him. That’s when Emma opened up about feeling alone and unloved until she was adopted and she finally had a family. They both had had a lot to drink but nothing happened, they fell asleep on the couch. So if it were going to happen, if Killian was going to admit how he felt surely it would be when he was pouring his heart out to her, right?

“For what it's worth, whether you believe he's in love with you or not, I think he’s good for you. You bring out the best in him, and he brings it out of you. Don’t scare him off, let him in.”

Ruby’s words are ringing in her head. Killian had been rock solid in her life. He was a constant reminder that people you cared about wouldn’t leave. Before she was adopted, she was in a foster family she thought really cared about her, they would talk about the trips they were taking, how the mom was going to the mall to get new clothes, but then the minute the social worker left Emma realised how wrong she was. She was used to people lying, leaving and she learnt to not get her hopes up or be excited about things, It took nearly a year for Ruth and David to finally break the walls she had up. Killian was the nerdy guy with braces who sat with her in math class and helped her find her way around the school, he sat with her at lunch and introduced her to Ruby.

Killian was her best friend. He was always there for her when she needed him. She broke up with Graham and then Killian would arrive with pizza in hand to cheer her up. She’d never really thought of him in a romantic or sexual setting before today. David and Mary Margaret were the prime example of marrying your best friend, so maybe being with Killian wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. She couldn’t stop thinking if Ruby was right and if he really was in love with her.

_____

David lent her his truck to pick up the heaters and the last of the decorations, when she parks in front of the barn she hears the radio station Killian always has on playing from the barn. She hears him singing along to the christmas song currently playing as a smile tugs at her lips.

“Nice singing, Jones.”

He stops in his tracks and his face turns red as he turns towards her. “Swan. Don’t sneak up on a man.”

The barn was partly converted from David and Mary Margaret’s wedding a few years back and a couple other people in town had since hired it out for their own wedding. Fairy lights hung from the ceiling down to the warm wooden floors which were decked with a gorgeous red carpet and tables along the back of the barn were dressed with red and green tablecloths and two large nutcrackers adorned the entryway. It looked like a winter wonderland already and Emma knew this was all her sister-in-law’s doing.

“Ruby says hi.” She says as she puts the heaters down, trying not to keep her friend's words in her head too much. “I assume Mary-Margaret left a very detailed list, so where do you want me?”

Killian holds up a list, a knowing smirk cursing his lips, of course there was a list. “She has left us in charge of the finishing touches. Add Red and Gold baubles to the tree, candy canes in the flower arrangements on every table, blankets on the porch. And my personal favourite.” He holds up a familiar looking berry flower. “mistletoe above the entryway.”

Emma rolls her eyes at her sister-in-law's ultra detailed list, she did not like leaving anything to chance. And she bets the mistletoe was David's idea before he knew about her and Killian, likely planning to trap her in an awkward situation with that teacher he’d mentioned. “You better stay away from me waving that in front of me.”

She expects Killian to put it back in the box, but instead he moves a few paces in front of her, “What will you do Swan? You know there’s a saying that if you refuse a kiss under the mistletoe you’ll be cursed to have no marriage proposals.” He was toeing a very dangerous line here and Emma knew she could easily walk away and he wouldn’t push her, but part of her was curious to see how far he was willing to go. There was nobody around except the two of them to force it.If she kissed him, it would be her decision alone.

“Who says I want a marriage proposal?” She was toying with him, she wanted to see if he was going to do what she thought.

He waves the leaves above his head and whispers, “It’s bad luck, Swan. You don’t want to be cursed.” And he leans in ever so slightly, waiting for her to make a move.

Her mind was racing. Killian was a flirt, he always was, and Emma always thought it was just in his nature, but with Ruby’s words still ringing in her head she was curious. Was this constant flirting a game or was he trying to make a move? Her mind wanders back to \ last night, seeing him dripping wet from the shower and then this morning. Was he a good kisser? What would happen if she did kiss him?

“I don’t want to be cursed.” She decides to hell with it and leans in closer, closing the gap and all of sudden her lips are on his.

She was kissing Killian. Killian, her best friend. Her fake boyfriend for the holidays. It shouldn’t feel this good. His lips are soft and she can taste the rum from the flask she knows he would’ve been drinking from at his brother's grave. His tongue is in her mouth and of course he’s a good kisser. She doesn’t know why she never thought about it before, and she can’t help but let out a moan at the way it felt.

They break away for a second, and look at one another, both understanding this was more than just a mistletoe kiss. This was wrong, everything in her knows this was wrong but she can’t help it. Killian drops the mistletoe and his mouth is on hers once again. Emma was a sensible girl 90% of the time but his lips tasted like danger and she was ready to let herself go to the dark side. His hand tangles in her hair and she can’t deny how good it feels.

They were well beyond the line of two friends pretending to date but while she was lost in the taste of his lips she couldn’t care. Hearing the way he moaned when her tongue explored his mouth, it was the hottest thing she’d ever known.

“Ahem.” They break apart at the sound of her brother's voice. “Mary Margaret sent me to see how you were doing, I think she’s stressed it’s not going to fit her vision.” Her brother was as red in the face as they were.They’d been caught making out like a bunch of teenagers and she was 30 years old for god's sake.

“Right, the tree needs the star. It's your party you should do the honours.” She backs away from Killian and doesn’t look him in the eye as she helps her brother with the finishing touches. They barely look at one another for the rest of the afternoon, and Killian resigns himself to looking over the table coverings.

They don’t bother to explain the mistletoe to David; it was clear they were having some alone time, who knows how it would have escalated. It should’ve been wrong, it was crossing a line. They had rules, clear rules about how to get through the holidays and Emma had broken them by kissing him. But she can’t deny how good it felt to kiss him and how she badly wants to do it again.

_____

Emma was on fire the entire afternoon. She couldn’t stop thinking about the taste of his lips and the way his body moved against hers. It was exciting and thrilling and Emma so desperately wanted to do it again. But she couldn’t. This was Killian, her best friend. She couldn’t face him without going bright red in the face.

She shoots Ruby a text seeing if she was free for a girls’ night. She needed to vent and Ruby owed Emma for the many times she had vented to her back in high school. Thankfully her friend is free so she shoots Killian a text so he doesn’t worry.

“I kissed him. It was meant to be a mistletoe kiss, something light hearted and unserious but god Killian knows how to kiss. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, which is wrong because this was all meant to be fake.” She says when she shows up at Ruby’s apartment with a takeout bag and wine in hand.

Ruby rightfully looks at Emma like she doesn’t have her head screwed on, “slow down. You kissed Killian, as in your boyfriend?”

Emma pours the two of them a glass of wine as she explains everything, from the decision to fake date for the holidays to how he woke up this morning leading to the kiss and finally how her head had been spiraling ever since Ruby said he’d been in love with her since high school.

Ruby takes another sip of wine as she tries to get her head around the story. “So he agreed to fake date you, with no promise of anything?”

Emma nods. “He took a day to mull it over but yeah he didn’t argue much.”

The brunette takes another swig of wine as she digests and collects her thoughts. “Emma, when you meet up with Killian in the city, what sort of things do you get up to?”

“I’m confused. What does this have to do with my feelings?” Emma asks, not sure where her friend was going with this.

“Just stick with me. What do you guys do?”

“Uh, we go out for drinks. We talk about our bad dating experiences. We go to the gym together sometimes or he’ll bring takeout to my apartment and we’ll watch a movie together.”

Ruby nods her head with a smile, clearly what Emma was saying was going along with the batshit theory in her head, “your ex. What did you guys do together? The cop-Graham, not that douchebag Neal.”

Still not sure where this was going Emma tells her, “We’d have dinner together, he’d come to my apartment or I’d go to his and watch a movie.” Slowly Emma understood where her friend was coming from. “Oh my god. Have I been dating Killian all these years?”

It all made sense. With the whole “Killian being in love with her all this time” it made sense why he spent so much time with her. But why not be honest with her? She knew feelings could complicate things but they told each other everything. “Was I that dumb this whole time?”

“That’s a question you gotta ask him.”

_____

It’s late when she gets back to the farmhouse. She doesn’t expect him to still be awake but he’s there on the armchair reading.

“Hey, how was Ruby?”

There are a million thoughts swirling around in her head, this was why she came back late, hoping she wouldn’t have to face him.

“She's Ruby. Terrible taste in relationships. She’s pretty sure the girl she’s been dating has been cheating on her.” The lie slips out easily, Ruby was known for having terrible relationships so Killian wouldn’t get suspicious. “How was your evening?”

“I had a run in with Brennan.” Killian had stopped referring to him as his father shortly after Liam died, and he went no contact with the older man.

“What happened?” Emma knew nothing good usually came from Killian talking to his father. He was a no-good drunk and blamed Killian for Liam's death.

“It was actually a good thing. I confronted him.” Killian looked very proud of himself, “I’d bottled up everything I felt for the man all these years. Even when Liam was alive I never felt like I was good enough, I pushed myself to work hard in school to get even a smidge of his attention and he never gave a damn. Liam was his perfect son, and in his eyes I killed him. He doesn’t even care that I lost my brother, he lost his son and that’s all he cares about. He didn’t bother to ask how I’m getting on with only having one hand because he doesn’t care. I don’t exist to him anymore. It used to bother me, but I realise I don’t care. Family isn’t about blood. You, Emma, more than anyone knows that. He doesn’t exist to me anymore and I’m okay with that.”

“I know Liam would be so proud of you.” Emma tells him, grabbing his hand and smiling wide. “And you’re right. Family isn’t about blood, but you’ve got David and Mary Margaret. And you have me.”

She loved him, she loved him as a friend and if she let herself she could probably fall in love with him. She just didn’t know if opening her heart would make it worse. Killian was fragile, he’d lost his brother way too young and what if they decided to date for real, and then it didn’t work out. Could they go back to being just friends after? She knew he didn’t have any friends or people he could rely on aside from her.

_____

The next morning Emma wakes up before Killian does, sunlight not yet setting in from the curtains. It was warm considering it was December. She notices the clock next to the bed says it’s just after 6am, and she was also aware of Killian’s warm body wrapped around her, it felt nice to bask in it for a few moments. She didn’t feel his hardness against her back this morning which saved her from another awkward moment, but his legs were intertwined with hers. She felt safe with Killian. She didn’t know what was going to happen after the holidays but for now she let herself fall back asleep wrapped in his arms.

When she wakes a couple hours later it’s 8.30am and Killian isn’t next to her, so she’s forced to get out of the warm bed and go downstairs alone for breakfast.

“Happy Christmas Eve!” Mary Margaret practically pounces on her when she walks down the stairs to the breakfast nook. It’s beautiful, what they’d done with the house. A fresh lick of white paint made the small wooden kitchen feel homey and large. It was the perfect family home and Emma knew any child with them as parents would be the luckiest child in the world.

Her sister-in-law explains the plan for the day. They had a few more decorations to be added to the barn, like the fake snow David was most excited for and of course the presents for the tree because he was one of those people who loved gift giving and spending far too much time and money getting the perfect gift for everyone.

Her first Christmas with David and Ruth she had been so afraid. She’d done Christmas before with a foster family and they’d spent so much of their time and money on their own kids, she was practically forgotten about. But Christmas morning, David woke Emma up with a stocking from ‘Santa’ and they went downstairs to open it up where Ruth was making eggs and toast. It was perfect. They made her feel so included and loved.

Every year after that David would give Emma a perfect gift, the first year after they adopted her it was a framed picture of the two of them with a cute saying about the love between a brother and a sister, it made Emma cry. He’d always make the extra effort so she felt included and she loved him for it.

____

Everything was in place for the party tonight, the barn looked exactly like the Pinterest board Mary Margaret was using as inspiration. She was actually excited for once.

She had come back to the house early to get ready for tonight, but there was just the small problem that she hadn’t stopped thinking about Killian and the things Ruby had said. When she woke this morning Killian’s hardness was not rubbing against her, but part of her wishes it was. He was driving her insane. She had never been this obsessed over a guy before. What was it about his blue eyes, and his accent, and the way he was a nice guy that did things to her.

Emma’s dress is a deep red colour, it was the perfect cut, showing just enough cleavage and her makeup is smoky, with a red lip to match. There was an issue though that she couldn’t do it up herself so she puts on her brave face and texts him.

‘Need help with my dress, please assist.’

She hears a knock not two minutes later and sees his head around the door, so she gestures for him to come in. He was dressed in his suit, all ready for tonight and Emma hated to admit it, but he looked hot.

“I can’t zip myself up.” She explains turning her back to him, holding the dress in place.

“A woman usually calls me to unzip her dress, not the other way round.” He says and she doesn’t need to see his face to know he was smirking. But still he manages to zip her up all the way, his hand lingering on the top of her back. She doesn’t move, as she feels the intensity of his hand lingering and suddenly becomes undone as he presses a kiss to her neck. She releases a groan.

At the sound of that he grabs her arm and pulls her around to face him and she takes the sudden opportunity to grab his face, bringing it towards her own and they waste no time in crashing lips together the way they had done before. His lips tasted of whiskey and sugar and it was the sweetest thing she’d ever tasted. It wasn’t long before his lips moved from hers to her neck, placing a kiss down the column of her neck causing her to arch her back.

“Minx.” He whispers in her ear and she can’t help the noise that comes out of her mouth.

She needs him more than she’s ever needed or wanted someone before. Her head was a minefield of feelings, she didn’t know what to think. But she knew this couldn’t go too far before they had a chance to actually speak. It takes everything in her to pull away from his kiss for more than a second.

“Killian.” She was trying to catch her breath, trying to sort her scrambled brain together. “We can’t. We have the party.” He was still kissing her neck and it would be so easy to say fuck the party and give in her to devilish desires to fuck him senselessly but no, David and Mary Margaret were expecting them and they’d worked so hard.

“Screw the party.” He says as he captures her lips again, and again she groans as she has to pull away for good.

“Easy tiger. Plenty of time for this later.” And she plans on revisiting this before the night is through.

The glint in his eyes is unlike anything she’d seen before, “you mean that?”

Emma kisses him again, “Definitely.”

___

David’s annual Christmas Eve party was a new tradition. It started after Ruth died. David had inherited the house and the barn and had no clue what to do with it, so he did what he did best and that was spend time with friends and family. And thus the annual Nolan Christmas Eve party was born. Given that everyone in this small town rarely left the small town, the guest list remained the same each year.

Practically everyone David went to high school with attended the party, he was well loved and as Sheriff of the town he was well respected. Mary Margaret was a 2nd grade teacher so she had parents of her kids come and celebrate. Even Snow's father and his wife would be in attendance as Snow didn’t like to cause a feud on Christmas.

It was a good excuse for people to get together, drink lots of alcohol and eat good food, especially as Ruby’s grandmother Granny was catering. At what must be almost 90 she was still a force to be reckoned with in the kitchen.

The barn looked beautiful, it was covered in fake snow and the eaves were covered in wreaths while flecks of gold and red shone through. Two large nutcrackers guarded the entryway where mistletoe hung to catch some unlucky couples and in the corner there was a large Christmas tree with presents that, knowing her brother, weren’t all fake. It was beautiful, there was no other way to describe it.

“This is incredible.” She says as she and Killian walk through the doors and she sees people in the midst of conversations.

Killian nodded in agreement. “Your brother knows how to throw a good party, I’ll give him that. Though nothing can beat the homecoming after party we had when he was out of town.”

Emma smiles at the memory. It was her first party where she felt free from Neal, she let herself have fun and yeah maybe she got too drunk for a 17 year old, but she had fun. She and Ruby belted their hearts out at karaoke and Killian was there holding her hair when she threw up in the bushes. It was right before Liam died so Liam picked Emma up with Killian who was in no fit state to drive either, he gave them water and made grilled cheese to help sober them both up before they went to sleep. She woke up the next morning with a mild hangover and Liam never said anything to David.

The two mingle for a while, catching up with school friends they’d not seen in a while. The handful of classmates who managed to get away from this town were also back from their respective cities, Boston or even as far as LA. It was nice to have an excuse to actually talk to people about their lives, instead of just stalking their social media pages.

“David and I would like to propose a toast.” Mary Margaret holds out her flute and raises it in the air towards their guests. “To friends, family. Friends who have become family,” she looks to where Emma and Killian are standing, “And most importantly, to the new family member who will be here next Christmas.” She holds a hand to her belly and everyone erupts. Emma has tears in her eyes at the thought of her brother becoming a father.

“I’m so happy for you both. I can’t believe you’re going to have a baby.” She hugs her brother, the tears still flowing.

“I hope you know this doesn’t mean we’re forgetting about you. You’ll always be my baby sister.” He holds the back of her head, the way he always used to when she was younger.

“I know you’re going to be a great father, you were an amazing big brother to me and this baby is so lucky.”

Her brother smiles widely at her, “You deserve happiness too, Emma. I’m glad you’ve opened your heart to Killian, I know it hasn’t been easy. But you’re surrounded by love.” She knows her brother is slightly drunk, he definitely needed that liquid courage for his announcement. “Killian has been pining for you for years, I don’t know what he said or did to make you take the plunge and go out with him, but I’m glad it worked. I’ve never seen you this happy, and you deserve this.”

Yeah, She needed to chat with Killian.

She finds him brooding in the corner nursing what she assumes is a rum and coke and his eyes light up when he sees her. “Congratulations on the niece or nephew, Swan. I gather your brother is excited?”

“Oh he’s excited for now but I know he’s going to be shitting himself in a month or two.” She laughs. David and Mary Margaret were going to be natural parents, but that doesn’t mean they’re not going to panic like crazy.

Things with Killian were just so easy. He knew exactly what to say, and she felt comfortable around him. She didn’t need to put on an act or pretend to be interested in something she really wasn’t. It’s one of the reasons why she and Graham broke up, he was really interested in politics and the justice system, and Emma felt like every date she had to research something to impress him and be prepared if he suddenly started complaining about a judge’s ruling. With Killian he didn’t care that she was clueless when it came to history, she knew enough and he was okay with that, she also didn’t mind when he would spend 20 minutes talking about the Romans and mythology, she would listen because he made it interesting. She knew he was a great teacher because of it.

“We need to talk.” she tells him, as fun as it was making out, she needed clarity. She didn’t want to be the one to break his heart.

They head outside to the back of the barn which had been the dedicated smoking area, with outdoor heaters and picnic benches.

“Are you in love with me?” She blurts out because she doesn’t know how else to phrase it.

Rightfully Killian is taken aback at the bluntness, “I - uh. Swan.”

Emma cringes at her outburst, she was making this harder than it needed to be. “I’m sorry, I’m not good at this. It’s just, my brother and Ruby have both told me how amazing it is that we’re together. Hell, tonight David said you’ve been pining for years and asked what it was that finally won me over.” She notices Killian getting redder the more she explains. “Ruby made me realise that we’ve been dating for years without even realising it. And I want you to know that was never my intention.”

“You never looked at me in high school probably because I was an acne ridden teenage boy with pretty horrible hygiene. Your attention was on an older guy in the wrong crowd who was cool and dangerous, but he broke your heart. You didn’t see me because my brother died and my father hated me, so how could you look at me and not pity me? You were the most beautiful girl in school, Emma. And I was so lucky you decided to be my friend. If you never loved me that would be okay, because you were my friend. Maybe I was foolish to think maybe one day you’d look at me as more than as a friend. I thought ‘Maybe if I buy her flowers when she’s upset and take her to dinner when her cop boyfriend broke up with her she’d look at me.’ But you never did.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asks, voice breaking at the sudden admission.

“I guess I was afraid. I’d lost Liam, I lost my right hand. I didn’t want to lose you, Emma. After everything I’d lost, I still had my best friend and I think I’d break if I didn’t have you.”

“Killian. I’m sorry for asking you to be my fake boyfriend. It was stupid and if I knew how you felt- you must think I’m a horrible person.” She cringes, putting her face into her hands. She was a horrible person, she’d unknowingly taken advantage of a guy who's been in love with her for 15 years.

Killian takes her hands away from her face, forcing her to look at him. “Emma. I said yes because I wanted to help you, and you were right. It has stopped the pitying looks I would get. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the mistletoe stuff and earlier, I didn’t think-“

Emma interrupts before he can continue “No, no you don’t have to apologise. I’m the one who made things worse by blurring the lines. I kissed you and then I felt confused because it felt so right but so wrong at the same time.”

“Swan, you don’t have to explain. We both got carried away, but I shouldn’t have put you in that position in the first place.”

“Killian. The past couple days have been so confusing, you’ve always been my best friend but you’ve never just been that, it’s always been more. And I think after a conversation with Ruby I realised maybe I’d been missing out by not dating you for real. I’m sorry for missing the signs all these years, but I never looked at you with pity. I’m a former foster kid who was attracted to danger and I made mistakes, and you lost your brother and protector way too young. Both of us are broken, but I feel like with you everything just makes sense.” She doesn’t know why she didn’t realise it sooner.

“Can I kiss you again, Emma?” He asks and she smiles at him, a true smile she reserves for only the special people in her life.

“Please do.” And he captures her lips, softly this time. It wasn’t quick and hard like the past couple of times, it was gently asking for permission to go further rather than demand it. It’s the way their first kiss should have gone.

_________

They were back at the house within minutes, trying not to make it too obvious what they were rushing back for, but for once Emma didn’t care what other people thought.

“Too many clothes.” She comments, hands palming the buttons of his shirt, he’d pulled his jacket off and thrown it on the floor as soon as they entered before diving right into her lips.

Killian makes quick work of the zip on her dress and it quickly falls to the floor as his kisses continue, from the corner of her lips to her ear and then down her neck as she unclasps her bra, tossing it across the room.

“Killian” she can’t help but moan as the pressure in her core intensifies, she feels herself getting wetter and wetter at every kiss. She needed more. His hand cups her left breast, and his cool touch is enough to harden her nipple alone but then his fingers rub and pinch whilst his mouth makes moves on her right.

“Please Killian. Please,” she never begged when she was with a guy, they didn’t usually spend as much time with foreplay, they went straight in. Not Killian though, he was special, this was different. He was worshipping her.

“What do you want, love?” He asks and she could come alone from that sultry voice.

“You. Please. Gods, I need you.”

The devilish grin on his face appears and his lips travel south down her naval where he presses another soft kiss above her belly button before moving down to her thighs where she knows her underwear was soaked. “All this for me?”

His hand touches the soaking wet fabric and there was no use lying about how desperate she was for him, not when she was moaning like a porn star. He pulls her panties down and his touch is electricHe teases her folds, gathering her wetness in his fingers and then brings it up to his mouth and licks his fingers, which Emma didn’t realise was a turn on until that moment.

He kisses her so she can taste herself on him and then his mouth is on her core again, his tongue lapping at her increasing wetness. She grabs at his hair, pulling him closer as the pressure intensifies. His tongue licks up and down and then he finds her clit and Emma was in heaven.

He slips a finger inside and she’s on fire, finding the right angle, he pumps his finger in and out until adding a second and she throws her head back, crying begging for more as he finger fucks her.

“Right there! Harder! Please!” She begged.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He whispers and Emma knows deep down, maybe she has, too.

“Killian” she moans again, she was missing out all these years if sex with him was this good.

“You’re still wearing too many clothes.” She reaches out to unbutton his pants and she can already see pre cum leaking from his underwear. She knew he was going to be large but when she pulls his boxers down and sees him already hard and ready for her is something she was not prepared for.

Killian groans at the simple touch of her hand on his cock and she smiles knowing it was her turn to make him in pain. Her lips touch the tip, causing him to tense before she takes him in her mouth and bobs her head up and down, her hand taking over where she couldn’t fit anymore of him.

“Tell me what you want, love.” He asks in a breathy moan

“You. Inside me. Now.”

He flashes her a wicked grin and kisses her softly before lining himself up and guiding his cock into her, edging himself in slowly.

Emma feels a wave of euphoria at the feel of his cock in her, rolling her hips against him trying to find the perfect rhythm as he thrusts into her inch by inch.

“Swan, you feel so good.” He mumbles, hand in her hair and she could only groan in agreement, he felt so good.

“I’m so close.” She breathes as Killian thrusts some more and his thumb brushes over her throbbing clit and Emma can’t help but scream his name ‘Killian!’

The sound of Emma screaming his name is what causes Killian to release fully and Emma knows she’s never had an orgasm such as this before.

He kisses her softly and slowly again. A promise that this was not the first or last time they would do this to another’s bodies.

___

Christmas morning Emma wakes once again wrapped up in Killians arms and she lets herself enjoy it without the guilt because there was no going back now. Maybe her brother was right, and it had been Killian all along.

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