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jrob64 · 4 months ago

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Ghosted

Chapter 1 - Hauntings

Here is the first chapter of my contribution for this year's Captain Swan Supernatural Summer. I have many people to thank for helping me get this written and posted by my assigned date.

Thank you to my fellow mods of CSSNS24 - @winterbaby89 @stahlop @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4. I'm so glad we've had such a great response to this last event!

More thanks to Krystal for creating the absolutely amazing pic set for this story. It turned out great, didn't it? Making Neal and Liam appear ghostly was the handiwork of @motherkatereloyshipper, so she also deserves my appreciation.

Rounding out my list of thank yous is my ever-loyal beta, @hookedmom. I've been writing CS stories for nearly six years and she's been with me for the vast majority of them!

I anticipate this story being 3-4 chapters long in total. It isn't completely written yet, so unfortunately I can't provide a posting schedule, but I assure you it WILL be finished. If you're not on my tag list and would like to be informed when future chapters post, please let me know.

DISCLAIMER: All I know about ghost hunting is what I've watched on Ghost Adventures (which is worth watching simply for the entertainment factor.) I also know next to nothing about how YouTube works beyond being a viewer. Please excuse all errors and keep in mind that this is fanfic and isn't meant to be completely accurate!

SUMMARY: When Emma Swan’s ex-boyfriend dies, she’s haunted by his ghost. Her neighbor, Killian Jones, a ghost hunter who has a YouTube channel, realizes what’s happening and offers to help. However, there’s more at stake than simply helping the apparition move on. There’s also the matter of Killian telling Emma he’s in love with her.

Rating: T (subject to change)

Words (Chapter 1): 4700

Also posted to ffn and Ao3

Juggling a large Americano and a blueberry scone, Emma Swan made a beeline across the coffee shop for the small table in the corner. Whenever she stopped in, she tried to sit there because it was beside the window and was only big enough for one chair. Even when the shop was crowded, no one could join her or bother her by asking if ‘this seat is taken’. She could be left alone, which was the way she preferred it in the mornings.

Taking a sip of the near-scalding beverage, she tilted her head back and closed her eyes, savoring the aromatic flavor on her tongue. She tried not to make a habit of coming to this shop, but her coffee maker died over the weekend and she needed her shot of caffeine.

She was nibbling on the corner of her scone when she felt her phone vibrate with an incoming text. Pulling it out of the back pocket of her jeans, she saw that it was from her friend Ruby. The partial message on the lock screen said I’ve got huge news. Are you sitting down?

Emma huffed out a sound of amusement as she unlocked her phone. Ruby’s ‘huge’ news was probably that Graham Humbert, who worked at the police station where Ruby was the dispatcher, had switched to a different scent of cologne. Instead, her eyes widened as she read the rest of the message:

They found Neal Cassidy dead in his cell this morning. Apparent suicide. Guess you won’t have to worry about him stalking you again when he gets out.

It took her a few moments to digest the information. For nearly two years, thoughts of that man had never been far from the forefront of her mind. The memories of their blossoming romantic relationship, which were replaced by her suspicions and ultimate confirmation of his criminal activities, raced through her brain as she stared at the message for an inordinate amount of time.

When she finally started typing a response to Ruby, a shadow fell across the table, blocking the late morning sun. It didn’t move for several moments, so she glanced up, meaning to find the source of it on the other side of the window.

And looked directly into the eyes of Neal Cassidy.

Shocked beyond words, she squeezed her eyes closed, then blinked repeatedly before she looked up again, her heart hammering in her chest.

He was gone.

*********

Emma met Neal at a car dealership where he worked as a salesman. She was looking to trade in her yellow VW bug for something more reliable and he was eager to help. He was charming and funny, so when he asked her out on a date after the sale was made, she didn’t hesitate to accept.

They dated for six months before she started getting the feeling that he was selling more than cars. Hearing him have secretive one-sided conversations on the phone and seeing him meet shady looking characters in neighborhoods known to be frequented by crime lords made her suspicious, but the day she found a small bag of crack cocaine in his apartment was the day she was officially done with him.

When she broke it off, Neal begged her to stay, bragging about how he was in line to become very important and wealthy someday soon, and would provide her with everything her heart desired. Emma assured him she did not desire to be in the company of drug dealers and walked away, determined to put that chapter of her life behind her.

Having witnessed his sales techniques, she was well aware that he was persistent, but his persistence rapidly turned into obsession. She received dozens of texts from him every day, along with numerous calls she refused to answer. After listening to a few voicemails he left declaring his love for her, she deleted the rest and blocked his number.

That didn’t deter him, though. He continued showing up at her apartment, the gym where she worked out, and her place of employment - the swanky hotel where she tended bar. It was annoying, but she didn’t feel threatened and didn’t think a restraining order against him was necessary.

After several months of rebuffing or simply ignoring him, she was relieved when two days in a row went by without any contact from him. Then Ruby called to tell her he had been busted for drug trafficking and was awaiting a hearing. A trial followed, he was sentenced to five years in prison, and Emma hoped she had seen the last of Neal Cassidy.

*********

Emma dragged herself up the two flights of stairs to her apartment on wobbly legs. She was still trembling from the encounter at the coffee shop, unable to shake the image of her deceased ex-boyfriend from her mind.

She had finally managed to send Ruby a text, asking her if she had proof Neal was actually dead. Ruby replied that her friend Dorothy, who worked at the prison where Neal was serving his time, saw his body on the gurney as he was taken out, and talked to the guard who found him hanging by a bed sheet. He was definitely dead.

The only explanation Emma could come up with for seeing Neal outside the window was that the shock of reading Ruby’s text caused her to conjure an image of him. But that didn’t explain the feeling she had of being watched or followed all the way home, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

When she reached the third floor, she wasn’t surprised to see her friend and neighbor, Killian Jones, in the hallway between their two doors, fiddling with a metal box which was emitting a strange humming sound. As a paranormal investigator and the host of a popular YouTube channel called “Killian Jones - Ghost Hunter”, he was always trying out various pieces of equipment.

He glanced up, his striking blue eyes fastening on her before his face split into a grin. “Hey, Swan. How are you today?”

She answered vaguely as she stopped in front of her door. Suddenly, the humming sound increased in volume and pitch and Killian’s smile faded into a look of confusion. Picking up what looked like a radar gun laying beside him on the floor, he stood and held it between himself and Emma.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, too intent on circling her slowly and studying the numbers on the gadget. When he finally looked up several seconds later, he hesitantly commented, “Swan…it appears you have a…a ghost following you.”

Emma felt the blood drain from her face and her knees buckle, which was the last thing she remembered before everything went black.

Killian barely caught Emma in time to keep her from hitting the floor as she fainted. Hoisting her up into his arms, he carried her inside his apartment. This was not how he expected her to end up in his arms, but he would take what he could get.

*********

The two of them had lived beside each other ever since Killian moved into the apartment next to hers when he arrived in Boston five years ago. At first, they just exchanged pleasantries when they passed in the hall. After a few months, they began to have short conversations about the weather and their frustration with the landlord. That led to them doing favors for one another, such as taking in packages, bringing the other’s clothes upstairs from the laundry room, and picking up items one of them forgot to buy at the grocery store. Eventually, they built up enough trust in each other that they traded apartment keys to make it more convenient to drop things off.

Every once in a while, they would share a pizza while watching TV in one of their apartments. Seeing Emma so relaxed in her own home, laughing and bantering with him, started Killian down the road of developing deeper feelings toward her. He was enamored with her wit and intelligence and thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

At times, he witnessed men coming to her door to pick her up for a date, something that always left him feeling bereft. Fortunately, most of them never came around more than once. He enjoyed listening to her humorous assessments of each man’s shortcomings afterwards.

Then she started dating Neal Cassidy, and during those months, Killian hardly saw her. When he did bump into the couple, Neal treated him with disdain, looking down his nose at him and scoffing at everything Killian said. It was made worse by the fact that Emma didn’t even seem to notice. Killian was sure he had missed his chance of acting on his feelings for her.

He almost felt guilty for being ecstatic upon finding out she’d broken up with Neal. His happiness turned to concern and then anger when Emma told him Neal wouldn’t leave her alone. The two men had words several times when Killian found him hanging around in the hall outside her apartment. Then Emma told him Neal had been arrested and sent to prison, and he was beyond relieved that the idiot wouldn’t be bothering her anymore.

Still, Killian didn’t ask her out, reasoning that she’d just gotten out of a bad relationship. He continued to fall for her more and more, while she remained completely unaware of his burgeoning feelings toward her. Feelings that, by now, felt a lot like love.

*********

After laying her on his couch, Killian tapped Emma’s cheeks, urging, “Swan! Swan! Wake up! You have to wake up, Love.” When she didn’t respond, he scrubbed a hand down his face. “Bloody hell, Lass. I didn’t mean to frighten you that badly.”

He glanced around the living room, trying to figure out what to do to help Emma regain consciousness. Going into his kitchen, he took a clean dish towel out of the drawer, placed some ice cubes inside and while there, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

She was still out cold when he emerged a minute later. Concern etched his face. In all the years he lived next door to Emma Swan, he never knew her to be anything but tough and strong. Seeing her lying there so ashen and unmoving unnerved him. He lifted her head slightly to place the ice under her neck.

Convinced there was nothing more he could do at the moment, he went back out to the hallway and collected his EMF meter, noticing that it was back to a steady hum. Picking up the infrared thermometer he had dropped, he saw the temperature had returned to normal. No more cold spots. Apparently whatever spirit that had entered the hallway with Emma was gone.

Reentering his apartment, he sat on the coffee table in front of the sofa to keep vigil over his neighbor, continuing to pat her cheeks and call her name from time to time. After several more long minutes, her eyelids began to flutter, then slowly opened. Her eyes darted around, obviously trying to figure out where she was. He could tell the moment she figured it out, because she groaned and covered her face with her hands.

“Please tell me I didn’t faint,” she pleaded.

“I wish I could, but that would be untrue,” he responded, tilting his head to offer her a small, reassuring smile when she uncovered her eyes.

She started to sit up, but he put a hand to her shoulder to stop her. “Easy, Swan. Better lie still a bit longer.”

With a huff of annoyance, she laid back down, adjusting the ice pack behind her neck. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“You’re welcome.”

She lay quietly for a while, nibbling on her bottom lip. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why, uh…why did you say that I had a ghost with me?”

She was obviously trying to pass off the question as being simply one of curiosity, but the look in her eyes told him she was quite serious about it.

“The infrared thermometer showed a definite cold spot and the EMF detector…”

“EMF detector?” she questioned. “What’s that?”

He sighed in frustration. “Don’t you ever watch my videos, Swan?” No matter how many times he talked to her about his show, he could never get her to commit to watching his YouTube channel.

“You know I don’t believe in ghosts,” she said.

He rolled his eyes before explaining. “An EMF detector measures electromagnetic fields. A high reading indicates the presence of a spirit.” He paused, making sure he worded his next statement carefully. “And perhaps you had better rethink your position on ghosts, because my instruments strongly suggested paranormal activity around you.”

She closed her eyes and cursed. Killian picked up the bottle of water and held it out to her. She sat up and accepted it, taking a long drink as she propped her feet on the table beside him.

“Care to enlighten me as to why you fainted when I told you my findings?” he inquired.

Capping the bottle, she held it against her forehead for a minute or two - long enough for Killian to wonder if she was going to give him an answer. Finally, she looked up at him and murmured, “Do you remember Neal Cassidy?”

“The wanker who hung around outside your apartment for months after you broke up with him?”

“That’s the one. Did I tell you that he was sentenced to prison for drug trafficking?”

“Aye, you did.”

“Well, apparently he hung himself in his cell. They found his body this morning.”

Killian let out a low whistle. “You think it could be his spirit that was causing my instruments to spike?”

She looked down again, fiddling with the label on the water bottle. “Possibly…because…” She drew in a deep breath. “Because I saw him outside the coffee shop this morning,” she said on an exhale.

Trying not to overreact and make Emma even more uncomfortable, he swallowed hard. “Now, when you say you saw him…”

“I mean I saw him,” she emphasized. “My friend Ruby texted to tell me about Neal’s death and as I was in the process of answering her, I noticed this shadow that didn’t move outside the window where I was sitting. When I looked up, Neal was standing there, staring right at me. I blinked, then he was gone.”

Killian’s ‘ghost hunter’ mind was getting excited about the prospect of being able to investigate a spirit practically under his own nose, but his heart went out to her. Being haunted was something he was more or less used to, but he wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

“Did you see him again after that?” he asked.

“No, but I had this…feeling while I was walking home; like someone was watching me. It really freaked me out.”

“So when I told you there was a ghost following you…”

“It was lights out for me.” She buried her face in her hands. “I’m so embarrassed. I’ve never fainted before.”

Killian reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “There’s no reason for embarrassment, Love. I’ve met many people who’ve had the exact same reaction when faced with the possibility of being in the presence of a ghost.”

“Seriously?”

He rubbed his thumb against the bridge of his nose, trying to contain his impatience. “If you watched my YouTube channel, you would be aware of that.”

“No offense, but the last thing I want to do right now is watch people being haunted.”

“That’s quite understandable, considering what you’ve been through today.”

She took another swig of water, then looked up at him. “Do you think he’s gone? Moved on, or whatever?”

Killian blew out a breath. “Probably not. My guess is he has unfinished business or he would have already moved on.”

“That’s just great,” Emma muttered sarcastically. “How long can I expect him to hang around?”

“Until he accomplishes what he needs to do.”

“So what am I supposed to do until then?” she moaned.

“Just go about your daily routine. If you see him or sense he’s there, gently tell him that he has died and needs to move on.”

“So saying ‘go to hell’ wouldn’t be a wise choice?”

He bark laughed. “I’m not sure that would be very effective.”

She drained the rest of the water, set the empty bottle on the table and stood up. Killian stood too, placing his hand on the small of her back. “Alright there, Swan?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m gonna go get something to eat and take it easy this afternoon until I have to go to work.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” As she started toward the door, he added, “Uh, Emma? Could I ask a favor of you?”

She turned to look at him. “A favor for the guy who carried me into his apartment and took care of me when I fainted like a prissy debutante? Sure.”

“If, um, if Neal’s spirit does reappear, would you be opposed to letting me document it?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she tilted her head in contemplation. “What would you do exactly?”

“Use equipment to detect paranormal activity and post it to my YouTube channel.”

“You mean that ESPN detector and stuff like that?”

He sighed in exasperation. “It’s EMF, Swan. Yes, that and voice recorders to conduct EVP sessions…”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Stop saying letters. You know I don’t know what that shit means.”

“Electronic voice phenomena sessions record sounds or voices from ghosts. If he’s trying to communicate with you, we might be able to pick it up on a voice recorder.”

Shrugging, she replied, “That’s fine. I’m sure it would get lots of hits for your channel.”

He stepped into her personal space, sincerity shining in his eyes. “I hope you know that’s not why I want to do this, Emma. My goal is to help you encourage him to move on so you will no longer have to deal with him. It’s bad enough he stalked you while he was alive; doing it after he’s dead is even worse.”

She gave a slight nod. “You’re right about that.” Pushing up to her toes, she brushed a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks again for everything, Killian. If I get the feeling he’s back, I’ll call you right away.”

“Day or night, Swan. I’m at your beck and call.”

“Good to know,” she smirked. “I’ll see you later.”

He watched her walk out the door, reaching up to rub his cheek where she kissed him. He was going to have to do his best to remain professional around her, but potentially having Emma as his next subject was going to be quite the challenge.

*********

Emma entered her apartment, quickly flipped on the light switch, and glanced around nervously. Not seeing or sensing anything out of the ordinary, she moved into the kitchen.

After heating up leftovers and eating lunch, she climbed into her worn, comfy recliner to scroll through Hulu. She tried to concentrate on her selected show, but her eyes kept darting around the room. “Fuck you, Neal,” she muttered. “Making me paranoid in my own home.”

Finally giving up on watching TV, she went into her bedroom to select her clothes for work that evening. Then she decided to take a long, relaxing bath. The longer she soaked in the tub without any sign of Neal’s ghostly image, the more she relaxed.

By the time she left for work three hours later, she was nearly back to her normal self and very hopeful that he had indeed moved on.

*********

After Emma left his apartment, Killian tidied up - dumping the melting ice cubes into the sink, hanging the towel to dry, and throwing the empty water bottle into his recycling bin. Then he checked all of his ghost hunting equipment, setting the batteries to charge if they were a little low.

Plopping down on the couch, he pulled up the message app on his phone and clicked on the group text with his technical director, Belle French, and his assistant, Will Scarlett.

K: We may have a new gig right here in my apartment building.

As expected, he got an immediate response from Will. The man’s eyes were practically glued to his phone screen most of the time.

W: Got a haunter right under your nose, do ya?

Belle’s answer several minutes later was a little more refined.

B: Can you provide us with any details?

K: My neighbor’s ex-boyfriend committed suicide in prison and she’s experiencing some paranormal activity. She says she saw his ghost outside a coffee shop and when she got home, I was in the hall with the EMF meter and thermo. Both of them spiked.

B: Oh, wow! That’s incredible! Sad for the guy and your neighbor, but what an opportunity!

W: Is this neighbor the hot blonde you’ve been crushin’ on for years?

Killian dropped his head back and groaned. He should have known better than to have confessed his unrequited feelings to his assistant during a boring all-nighter in an old warehouse in Portland, Maine last year.

K: That’s a very crass way to put it, but yes, it’s Emma.

W: You mean we might actually get to meet her?

K: Not if you’re going to be an ass about it.

W: I’ll be on me best behavior, I promise.

K: Why doesn’t that reassure me?

B: What are your plans, Killian?

Leave it to Belle to be the peacemaker of the conversation, Killian thought. If he was feeling vengeful toward Will, he could mention the crush his friend had on the auburn-haired beauty. How she never realized it, Killian would never know. Will was the very definition of heart eyes whenever he was around her.

K: I’ve got my equipment ready to go. If she senses anything, she’s going to call me. If it’s a recurring thing, we’ll set up an EVP session. I’ll let you know if anything happens. Just wanted to put you on alert.

B: Sounds good. I’ll be editing tomorrow. The new episode should be ready to post by Thursday.

K: Thanks, Belle. You’re the best!

W: He’s right, ya know. You really are bloody brilliant.

Seriously - how could she not see it when Will was always falling all over himself to proclaim her perfection?

Once Killian ended the conversation, he wandered into the room he used as his office.

“Hello, little brother.”

*********

From a very early age, Killian had been able to sense paranormal activity. He was confused by it for many years, but as he grew and began to read about ghosts, he realized he had a gift, albeit an unwanted one.

When he was twelve, his mother passed and he was there to witness her soul departing her body. She only stayed long enough to declare her never-ending love for her boys and bid him goodbye, before she moved on to her eternal reward.

Eight years later, when Liam died in a naval training exercise, Killian expected him to join their mother. However, his brother’s apparition began appearing to him from time to time. At first, his appearance was simply a mist, barely recognizable, but as Killian did more research into the paranormal and practiced tapping into his abilities, it became more discernible. Still, he was frustrated that he could see his brother, but was unable to speak to him.

He purchased several pieces of equipment used by paranormal investigators, hoping to enhance his encounters with Liam. They turned out to be very helpful, but Liam soon learned to communicate with his brother well enough that the tools weren’t necessary.

On a whim, Killian posted videos of himself explaining the use of equipment to make contact with ghosts on YouTube, and soon he was in demand as a paranormal investigator. People were willing to pay large sums of money to be able to make contact with their departed loved ones, or to encourage ghosts to move on. He quit his job as a dock worker and began traveling, taking his friend Will along with him, and when the technical aspects of editing and posting to YouTube proved too daunting, he hired Belle.

Even his closest friends were unaware that Killian’s deceased brother appeared and spoke with him on a regular basis; he wanted to keep that part of his life to himself.

*********

It still startled Killian whenever the apparition of his brother appeared, but it wasn’t ever an unwelcome intrusion. His visits never lasted long, but there was always enough time for a nice chat.

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten I’m a grown man and therefore your younger brother,” Killian reminded Liam, for at least the fiftieth time.

“I’m not sure that’s technically true any more, since you’ve now lived past the age I was when I died.”

Killian hated it when Liam talked about his own death. “You were born before me, so you’ll always be older.”

“Hmm…” Liam responded, giving his brother the maddening little nod that meant he was right and Killian was wrong. “So, the lovely lass you’re pining for was here today, aye?”

“How did you know that?” Killian asked unnecessarily. Obviously Liam had popped in and, being a tad preoccupied taking care of Emma, he hadn’t noticed.

“I’m not doing the job of watching over my little brother very well if I don’t know what’s going on in his life.”

Killian had never come right out and asked Liam about the unfinished business that kept him from moving on, but having been his guardian for years before his death, he was sure it was to continue taking care of him. Not that he needed it, but he wasn’t complaining, as long as he had a chance to have his older brother with him in some shape or form.

“She, uh…she fainted so I brought her in to lay her on my sofa. I couldn’t very well let her lay on the floor in the hallway.”

“What caused her to faint?” Liam asked, his playful tone giving way to concern.

“Seems she was visited by the ghost of her departed ex-boyfriend. You didn’t see him hanging around, did you?”

“You know spirits seldom bump into one another, unless they were associated with each other while they were living.”

“I just thought I would ask. It spooked her badly - no pun intended.”

“Have you agreed to help her?”

“Aye, if I can. The guy made her life miserable when he was alive. She shouldn’t have to put up with him after his death.”

Liam studied his brother for several moments. “Perhaps this will give you a chance to get closer to her. Maybe you’ll even work up the nerve to finally ask her out.”

Killian sighed. “I’m not going to do that when she’s so vulnerable, Liam. I simply want to get the tosser to move on.”

“And after that?”

“I don’t know,” Killian conceded.

“You’ve had feelings for that lass for ages, Killy. When are you going to act on them?”

“I’m afraid she’s only ever going to think of me as a friend. If I ask her out and she turns me down, I might lose her friendship, and I don’t want that to happen.”

“You’ll never know unless you try.”

Killian didn’t answer. He’d had this conversation with his brother before and Liam always pushed him to ask Emma out. He didn’t understand why his love life was so important to his brother, but whenever he asked him, Liam was evasive and refused to answer.

“Just think about it, Killian. I have to go. I love you, Brother.”

“Love you, too, Liam.”

He watched his brother’s translucent form dissolve, leaving him sad and lonely, as always. He didn’t know when Liam would complete his unfinished business, but he did know that when he finally did, Killian would be left alone once again.

Unbeknownst to him, Liam’s unfinished business was to see his brother happily married to the love of his life, but it was up to Killian to take the first step.

*********

Thanks very much for reading. Be sure to check out the other great stories in the CSSNS24 collection!

Tagging:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4 @hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda

@pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426

@julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones

@zaharadessert @lyssapup27 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90 @apiratewhopines

@hollyethecurious @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @caught-in-the-filter @stahlop @veryverynotgoodwrites @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie @beckettj @cssns

#cssns24 #ghosted #chapter 1 #jrob64 #art by krystal #captain swan supernatural summer #paranormal investigators #youtube #cs modern au #neighbors to lovers #csff

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everything-person · 3 months ago

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Captain Swan SuperNatural Summer

I was looking so forward to this event. I had so many ideas and concepts. But real life happened and my muse ran away so i was unable to write any of my ideas no matter how hard. But with this being the last event I will not turn up empty handed so I made art for all the ideas. @cssns

TRIGGER WARNING under cut has 9 art pieces they are numbered the 9th piece contains images of blood

1.) Sands of time based on the movie/video game Prince of Persia. King Nemo ruled with his brother and right hand Jafar. The King already had sons but one day while wandering the market he found two orphan boys that showed grant potential and took them in. After invading the sacred oasis of MistHaven Killian is framed for the murder of his adoptive father. With the help of Princess Emma he escapes and finds there is more to the dagger and plot behind his fathers death then he thought.

2.) Phoenix Diamond Based off of Onward. Henry never knew his father Graham. ON his 16th birthday his mother gave him a gift from his father it was a magic wand powered by a phoenix diamond to bring Graham back for one day. He tried the spell himself but it didn't work. But when his mother touched the wand it began to glow. The spell went a miss and now they are in a race against time to find another phoenix diamond to bring him back unbeknownst to them the dangers that lie in their quest.

3.) Living in the Dark inspired by Being Human. Killian is a vampire that has stopped drinking from fresh blood. Graham is a werewolf. They get an apartment together and be roommates. They wind up renting from Emma but there's something strange about her son who randomly pops in on the guys. Everyone trying to get a sense of normal life but how can they living in the dark.

4.) Wrong Ship inspired by Doctor Who episode. Jolly Roger magically tranforms into a human woman and goes to find Killian. Confusion and misunderstanding puts a rift into Emma and Killians relationship.

5.) Sandcastles and Riptides Liam and Killian are mermen raised under their grandfather King Triton brother to King Poseidon. Emma is the princess of misthaven raised under her well meaning but over protective parents. Each of their worlds forbidden from each other but fate demands them together.

6.) The Swan and the Hook is a pirated themed story with lots of twists and turns. I know doesn't appear supernatural but trust me there was/is supernatural undertones.

7.) Witches of Storybrooke loosely based on Hocus Pocus. After Henrys mother dies he goes to live in the sleepy town in Maine. He learns the legend of three witches that used to live there and of a candle that was to bring them back to life. Hoping maybe he could find some magic to bring his mother back he ventures into the woods. But he finds there is are two sides of every story when the witches do come back.

8.) Dance with the Devil Killian succeeded in his revenge against Rumplestiltskin and turned into the Dark One as a result. For centuries he stayed in the dark ones castle until one night he heard of princesses coming of age ball. Unable to turn away the temptation he slipped into the ball and had a hypnotizing dance with a beautiful blonde before barricading himself back into his castle. What happens when he finds the same blonde battered and abused in his forest years later?

9.) How a got a pet vampire was a supernatural comedy that came about from a discord discussion of a prompt.

Those were my ideas and maybe some day I can actually write them the titles might change if I do these were just the best I could come up with.

#captain swan #cs fanfic #cs ff #cs fic #cs art #cs aesthetic #cs fanart #cs fan art #emma swan #killian jones #henry mills #ouat #once upon a time #cssns24 #captain swan supernatural summer

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kmomof4 · 4 months ago

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Self-Promo Sunday

On this Self-Promo Sunday before the last Captain Swan SuperNatural Summer kicks off, if I may beg y'all's indulgence, I decided to highlight the four fics that I've written for the event over the years.

Of Darkness, Vampires, and Soulmates - My first contribution to my very own event! So much fun, but also SO HARD to write, I am very very proud of how this turned out! @hollyethecurious and @wistfulcynic very nearly earned co-writer status with everything they did to make sure I actually finished the dadgum thing! Absolutely MAGNIFICENT artwork for EVERY chapter by @spartanguard. MC, 41k words.

Summary: The Dark’s minion’s downfall is foretold When True Love’s Kiss doth unfold Between soulmates unbound by time The blue eyed prince and his golden haired Swan Their True Love will break the hold And Dark magic will be no more

The Moon... Tells the Sea - inspired by this GORGEOUS aesthetic @caught-in-the-filter was working on for CSSNS20. OS, 7100 words.

Summary: Nearly a century has passed since she became what she is when a new figure enters her lonely world. Who is he? And more importantly, WHAT is he?

Hotel Neverland - Inspired by The Eagles Hotel California. OS 6600 words. LITERALLY BREATHTAKING artwork by @thesschesthair

Summary: A ghost story for CSSNS22

And finally,

Into the Light - Inspired by the 1987 movie The Lost Boys. Artwork that left me a giggling flailing MESS by @motherkatereloyshipper. Two shot with 16,600 words.

Summary: The move to Storybrooke Maine might have been intended as the beginning of a new life for Killian Jones and his older siblings Liam and Belle, but there's a darkness over the town that threatens the small family's happiness, as well as the girl and small boy Killian has taken a liking to from his school. Killian is determined to help Emma and Henry get out of the situation they are in, but those dark forces in and around the town have another plan altogether.

Thank you all for the love and support you've given me, my fics, and this event over the years. It's been an INCREDIBLE run and a REALLY FUN ride!!! I hope you enjoy this look back and join me in eagerly anticipating everything waiting for us these next two months!!!

#self promo sunday #krystal writes #cssns #captain swan supernatural summer #of darkness vampires and soulmates #the moon... tells the sea #hotel neverland #into the light

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cs-rylie · 1 year ago

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My first CSSNS fic, The Journal! A ghost story based on Native American mythology

Updates every Thursday

Taglist below the line - lmk if you want to be added or removed!

@jrob64 @kmomof4 @teamhook @undercaffinatednightmare @booksteaandtoomuchtv @herhookedhero @chronicallybubbly @elfiola @zaharadessert @tiganasummertree @hookedmom @djlbg @stardreamer28 @tequedarasavinon @stahlop @gingerchangeling @middlemistcs13 @csadmire @deckerstarblanche @xellewoods @anmylica @huntressandlioness1 @insanelydeadlybookcollector @lfh1226-linda @motherkatereloyshipper @dashingpiratesandswans @momontheice @rapunzelsghosts @paradiselady19 @a-faekindagirl @eddisfargo @julesep3026 @caityrayeraye @bluewildcatfanatic @kday426 @winterbaby89 @jonesfandomfanatic @charmed101 @bg12sofia @ouat-the-hell @xarandomdreamx @zippoluv @flslp87 @captainswan-shipper88 @grimmswan @laschatzi @jennjenn615 @darkshadow7 @pygmypufftattoo @bizquake

#rylieoriginal #captain swan #cssns23 #ouat #ao3 #captain swan supernatural summer #killian jones #emma swan #once upon a time #fanfic #ouat fanfiction #cs #emma x killian #fanfiction #killian x emma #silverhook #ghost story #Native American Mythology #the journal

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spartanguard · 1 year ago

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sons of love and death, 13/13 {CSSNS 23}

Summary: After the Final Battle, Killian Jones had finally settled into his happily ever after with his wife and family. Until a new foe arrived in Storybrooke: the infamous Dorian Gray, who looks rather familiar—one might say identical—to the pirate, and he’s on a mission: to claim the powers of the Dark One for himself. There’s only one problem: the Dark One no longer exists. What follows is a journey of vengeance, revelations, magic, and finally facing down the darkness within himself that Killian thought he’d finally put to rest. [roughly canon divergent from 5B, though set post-canon] A/N: Here we are at the end of my @cssns story for 2023!! Hope you like how I've wrapped it up! Thank you all for following along this adventure! (As always, thanks to the best beta, @optomisticgirl !) rated M | 1.3k words | AO3 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

Several weeks later

Storybrooke’s harbor was just a few bobbing lights on the horizon, almost disappearing into the glare from the setting sun behind it. It was a clear, cool evening—perfect for a sail.

Killian had navigated them to a spot just far enough away for privacy, but close enough to get back to town quickly if needed—not that they were concerned with anything happening, but mostly out of habit. That, and he didn’t want to get too far into open water until he was more comfortable with his new prosthesis.

It had taken him a week or so to recover from what happened with Dorian—more mentally than physically, though the stab wound had left a scar over his heart—but once he got through the thick of it and started getting back into a normal routine, he realized he needed something better than the old wooden hand. Surely in a realm with the technological advancements of this one, there had to be better options?

There were—probably too many, if he was being honest. They’d had to go outside of Storybrooke to meet with a specialist (as well as come up with a cover story for his original loss of limb and the subsequent primitive surgery on his wrist), but he was quickly on his way to having a more modern prosthesis.

(A more expensive one, as well; Emma’s eyes had gone wide when she heard the estimated cost, but Gold had been surprisingly generous and offered to pay for it. Killian had first assumed it was Belle’s prompting, but was shocked to find she had done no such thing. It wasn’t quite turning over a leaf, but perhaps it was the final nail in the coffin of their rivalry.)

The following weeks of physical therapy were rough. When learning his magic, he’d compared it to flexing a muscle in a new way; this was similar, but far more literal—and rather more painful, as those in his left forearm had seen little action in the last centuries. Now, though, he was finally getting used to using them, as well as his new hook.

He had debated getting something a bit more hand-like, but after two hundred years, a hook was what he was used to. This one was far less intimidating, though, and far more dexterous; it actually opened and closed! He was still perfecting his modified grip, but the fact that he had one was thrilling.

(And he particularly liked practicing by using it to remove Emma’s bra straps. He was still working on unclasping, though.)

It was smaller than his old one, but still fit against the spokes of the Jolly Roger’s wheel perfectly. Weighing anchor was still a minor challenge, though, so he had Emma help him with that, and then waited for her at the railing.

“You’re sure about this?” she asked for the umpteenth time as she joined him.

“Aye; it’s time.”

From the deep pockets of her winter coat, she produced the dagger. It was still as sharp and wicked-looking as it had been all those weeks ago, and knowing their blood sat in the enameled design was off-putting��even worse that it was forged from the steel that had so long been his companion. So it was high time to say goodbye to it, and all it represented.

The portrait had already been taken care of—buried in a small plot in the cemetery, with an unassuming stone bearing Dorian’s name. (Belle had protested simply entombing such an iconic artifact from literature, but no one felt right about trying to display it anywhere, especially with it being both damaged and cursed.)

He actually had come to terms with the loss of his brother more quickly than he anticipated. Despite all the drama, they had still come from the same womb, but he realized—after some more late nights fueled by slightly more beer than necessary on the back porch with David—it was more the what-ifs he was lamenting. Again, no one understood that better than his father-in-law. (And, in the process, he realized perhaps what he’d thought he was missing was already right there: regardless of what their relationship might be on paper, David had long since filled the brotherly role Liam left empty, and he admitted that Killian held a similar position in his own life. They could only partly blame the subsequent tears on the booze.)

And now they would put to rest the last bit of Dorian, and part of Killian’s past.

Emma handed the dagger over to him, and he took it gingerly. Despite the emotional weight it carried, it just felt like any old dagger—no hum of magic, no din of dark whispers.

He glanced down at the railing, where the burn mark from Dorian’s cigarette was still a blight on the wood. It was a scar it would always carry, just like the one on his chest from the blade’s edge, and so many others from his past.

But it was just a mark—a memory, one from which he had learned and was moving on.

A line from Dorian’s namesake novel stood out to him: “What fire does not destroy, it hardens.” In a way, it applied to both of them. Dorian had spent so many years burning in the embers of his own ego, entitlement, and anger that it had hardened his heart even against what love it had let in. Killian, though—he’d walked a similar path, but the fires of the Underworld had only hardened his resolve to fight for the things he loved, no matter what.

He didn’t need a piece of metal to remind him of that; the woman at his side was more than enough.

“Fare thee well,” he said, and without further hesitation, dropped the dagger into the ocean.

As long as they could, they watched it fall through the water, the setting sun glinting off its edges, until it slipped into the depths and out of sight. And with it, a weight that Killian hadn’t realized he’d been carrying also fell away.

He took in a long breath of the sharp sea breeze and slowly let it out, then pulled Emma close to his side. “How do you feel?” she asked.

For a moment, he mused on it; how did he feel? It was a complicated set of emotions to sort through, and he’d probably spend some extra time discussing it in his biweekly session with Archie, but one thought swam to the forefront: “Free.”

His dark history would always be there, but he was no longer going to let it hold him back. It took him coming face-to-face with an even darker turn his life could have taken to realize that it was, but now—he was ready to face the future unburdened, and eager for it to start.

“Good,” Emma said, smiling as she rested her head on his shoulder. “So what do you want to do now?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, then took her hand in his and led her away from the rail. “There was one thing I wanted to do with my magic, but never got a chance to.”

“Which was?”

“Remember that delicious red dress you wore to your father’s engagement ball?”

She rolled her eyes, but nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“Think you could conjure that up?”

She smirked. “I’ll do you one better.”

The soft, warm breeze of her magic surrounded them, leaving them both dressed as they were that night, the hem of his long tan jacket swishing against her voluminous scarlet skirts. “Perfect,” he murmured, and pulled her close.

And as the sun finally set, revealing a sky full of stars overhead, they danced under the lights—and into whatever lay ahead.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・🗡・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

thanks for reading! tagging some peeps (let me know if you do/don’t want a tag!) @kat2609 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @wistfulcynic @pirateherokillian @colinoeyebrows @wingedlioness @word-bug @thisonesatellite @killianmesmalls @thejollyroger-writer @ineffablecolors @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubblesandwich @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis @scientificapricot @searchingwardrobes @donteattheappleshook @jrob64 @the-darkdragonfly @stahlop @klynn-stormz @resident-of-storybrooke @bluewildcatfanatic

#cs ff #cssns 2023 #captain swan supernatural summer #killian jones ff #sons of love and death #my ff

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killiansprincss · 1 year ago

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A Court of Vines and Shadow - for @cssns ‘23

SUMMARY: When Dark One Killian Jones makes Faerie Princess Emma of Misthaven spend 3 moon cycles a year with him to break a curse, Emma never expected to fall in love with him. Now she was walking down the aisle, meant to marry a man she doesn't love because she can never be with the one her heart wants. Or can she?

An ACOTAR Inspired fic written for Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 23. Also on A03

Also it’s July 9th and Speak Now Taylor’s Version just came out I feel like Speak Now is the perfect song to accompany this fic!!

Huge thanks to @cssns for this amazing event which allowed me to bring this to life! And special shoutouts to @hollyethecurious for the amazing art and also to my awesome beta @blonde-of-sherwood 💙💜

White dress. The Spring fallen gardens filled with flowers upon flowers, petals scattered all the way down the aisle and vines spiralling the chairs and arch. Flowers Emma had grown herself with her magic, snowbells and lilies, her mothers favourite flowers, the ones she first learnt how to grow using her magic when it first manifested all those years ago.

Her mother was who she was doing this for. Marrying someone she doesn’t love. Her mother worked so hard to arrange the various meetings with suitors, all noble Fae men, only the best for the Princess of Misthaven. Her mother never got to have a big wedding, she met Emma’s father and fell in love almost as quickly as she fell pregnant. As newly appointed King of Misthaven, they had to elope quickly so the Kingdom would be more accepting of their new Queen, who also happened to be a demi-fae. Her mother, who Emma dearly loved, so much so that she was marrying someone she had had just 3 conversations with all to appease the Kingdom and not go to Civil War because of the man she does love.

Killian. That’s who her mind wandered to. The Prince of Darkness as the rest of the Kingdom saw him. It had taken a while to see past his shadows and darkness, which she now understands was built from the loss of his family and the only people he had ever loved. But she loved him fiercely, anytime they were apart it broke her. Having to say goodbye for the final time was the closest Emma had felt to heartbreak.

So here she was, standing in her white dress, flowers in her hair and bouquet in her hands, where she would meet her father, take his arm and walk down the aisle to marry Lord Walsh. Pushing thoughts of Killian to the back of her mind as she walked towards the aisle to all the smiling faces of her Kingdom. She had to do this, she loved Killlian but they both knew they would never be together in the way they wanted. She just wished she had allowed herself to see past his darkness sooner and they could have had more time together.

“Emma.” An all too familiar voice calls her name from behind the aisle. He uses his power to bind the shadows to him, making him appear in a sort of smoke of darkness as he steps towards his lover. One of his other talents includes stopping time, just for a few minutes, but those few minutes were all he needed.

“Killian. What are you doing here?” As much as she loved him, it pained her to see him here. They had said their goodbyes a few nights prior. Seeing him here, in a white dress about to marry someone else, it wasn’t right.

“I have tried, Emma, truly I have tried to stay away. If it made you happy I would stand by and let you marry someone else, but I can feel your pain all the way in Neverland. It’s causing me pain too, and I think I understand now, it’s why I was so drawn to you the very first time we met, why, even when you hated me you could never really stay away.”

“Killan, you’re not making any sense, what are you saying?” It was painful seeing him, she was hurting, thinking of their time together and how fate was so cruel to not allow them more time.

“You’re my mate.”

His mate. Mates in this world were rare, her parents were never granted that luxury. She hadn’t known of anyone in the last 200 years who found their Mate. So why her? Why now?

Mates were equal in power and status, perfectly matched by the universe. A one true love, a soulmate. She never denied she loved Killian, but being his Mate was a whole other experience. It made sense in a way, they were drawn together at the ball when they first met. He could sense she was powerful, he recognised her untapped powers, something even her parents were unable to do. And she was never scared of him either, she had heard the rumours of course, and knew what he was capable of, but that didn't scare her.

_______________

Emma had been to hundreds of balls in her lifetime, even when she was a little girl, she would sneak into the ones at her palace, and watch everyone dance. They all shared a unique beauty about them, from the way the light reflected on the dresses worn or the chandeliers making rainbows across the walls, they were a thing of otherworldly beauty. But this ball in particular was nothing like those she was used to. It was hosted just outside Misthavens borders, an old castle known to be taken up residence by a Fae many years ago known as “The Dark One”. Rumours began to spiral that the Dark One was back. It had been years since he had been seen and random killings had stopped, but who knew. The invitations went to all the noble folk in Misthaven and surrounding kingdoms and the signature was empty, leaving more curious minds. There were many debates surrounding whether they should go or not, but the Royal Family of Misthaven had to attend to keep peace.

As she grew older the balls became a chance for her parents to find her a suitor to marry, she was now 21 and it was considered uncouth for the Crown Princess to be unmarried, even by Fae standards. So in an effort to avoid dancing with a Duke, she would practise her magic. Every Fae was gifted a power linked to the four elements, and Emma had inherited Earth from her mother. At times she thought it was a boring element to have, her younger brother Leo had water, which was useful for everyday life as well as pulling pranks (to which she was victim of lately). But as she got older she learnt to appreciate it, she enjoyed seeing what she could make grow, especially in situations like right now.

There would always be potted plants, pretty flowers surrounding the tables, she breathed into her powers and with a single touch could double the petals or even change their colours. Sometimes she would paint the pink flowers blue, or the white ones black just to test what she could do. Of course, her mother didn’t approve of using it for this. She was also gifted with the power of earth, but she preferred to make things grow or inject life back into a sunken plant, rather than mess with existing life.

“Not enjoying the festivities I see?” A voice from behind Emma startles her, she didn’t recognise him, dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Dressed in an all black leather suit, not the typical style the men wore. His pointed ears stick out from his dark hair, Emma had always felt self conscious of her ears, so made an effort to hide them, but this man, whoever he was, was the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on.

“I come for the faerie wine and food only I’m afraid.” She tells him with a playful smile.

“Well if you’re here for the wine why aren’t you dancing? Most people get drunk off a few sips then don’t leave the dance floor all night.”

She leans in close, “I’m not like most women.” What was the harm in flirting, he was gorgeous and her parents would never approve which made him all the more exciting.

He holds out his hand to her, “Dance with me, I insist.”

Dancing with a handsome stranger was not how Emma expected the night to go, but he was a great partner, unlike some of the suitors her mother had forced upon her in the past. He led her around the room with grace and it was as though they flew through the dancefloor together, no stepping on toes and he even spun her around a couple times, feeling the wine go to her head a little more. “You’re really good at this.”

“There’s just one rule, pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.” He whispers into her ear as he dips her. “You’re very powerful, you know Emma.” He tells her as she comes up.

“How do you know my name?” Sure she was the Princess, and most people recognise her at these things, but it was strange the way he said it so casually.

“I know a lot of things Emma.” He whispers, his breath close to her neck, making Emma feel a sense of arousal. A moment later the mystery man turned into shadow and darkness, disappearing from her hold and reappearing out of shadows at the top of the staircase.

“Welcome to my lovely guests. I guess it’s time I introduce myself?”

All eyes were on the mystery man now, they all saw his shadow power. That wasn’t one of the four elements, this was some other worldly magic. Then, for Emma at least, it clicks. The charming lustful energy coming from him, his ability to know things he shouldn’t, and his shadow and darkness powers. He was the Dark One.

That should have made her terrified, but for some reason, it didn’t scare her. Who was he?

“My name is Killian Jones. But I believe your people have a few different names for me, Dark One, Wronged Fae, Prince of Darkness is a personal favourite-though I bore no royal blood or status.”

_____________

And that’s where it began, he said he held this ball because he was supposedly cursed and needed someone with light magic to resolve it. Not just any light magic though, a very specific kind. And of all the Fae in the land, he decided Emma, after one conversation and dance that she was the Fae he was looking for, only she could break the curse.

“All I request are 3 moon cycles with her every year until I decide otherwise, or my curse is broken, whichever comes first.” This was his deal, his bargain. As the Dark One, you would be a fool to refuse or dispute a bargain.

Her parents were outraged, and tried everything in their power to stop them. They were a royal family, if he were anyone else maybe that would have been enough, but as the Dark One, he bore no allegiance to royalty. So for 3 moon cycles, she was to live with him, in his castle, doing who knows what.

____

The first moon cycle was absurd, The Dark One didn’t mention a single thing about his supposed curse. He made her practise her magic every single day. Barely spoke to her. Her main source of contact was with one of the servants, Belle. She would show her to her room, which wasn’t a prison or a dungeon like she was expecting, but it had lush carpets. velvet curtains and the most gorgeous and comfortable king size bed in the centre of the room. She would also take her down to the grand dining room where she was to eat all meals. The food was exquisite, the spices used were unlike anything she’d eaten before, it made Misthavens cooks look like a child in the kitchen.

There was no sign of him for the first couple of days, he left Belle with a page of instructions for Emma to get on with while she was here. The only thing on the list:

Read: The Complete Earth Elemental Magic Volume I

Read about her magic. That was the only thing she would do all day. For the first two moon cycles this is all she does, she sees him in passing, at mealtimes mainly. He is pleasant and they make small talk.

When she arrives home, her parents pounce on her, needing to know everything. What she witnessed, who she spoke to and if he hurt her in any way. They were terrified, and it made Emma realise she wasn’t afraid of him the way others were.

“We have suitors lined up.” Her mother would tell her, desperate to get her married off in the strange fear the Dark One would whisk Emma away to be his bride before she could marry a noble born. She would play along and speak to the princes and lords her parents picked out for her. She tried, really tried to find something good in any of them, but her mind would wander back to the blue eyes and dark haired villain she would be seeing again very soon.

The next moon cycle comes along and her task is to again, read the magic book which she was now on volume III of. Enough was enough, she needed to know her place and what exactly he intended to do with her.

“I have read these volumes cover to cover. If I have to learn about the different ways a flower can be grown I think I will die of boredom. You mentioned a curse that first night. Tell me everything and I can look in those stupid books for something that might actually help.”

He smiles at her as she rambles on about being a useful Fae and powerful if he lets her see. He admired her courage and her passion. “Very well Emma.” The way he says her name makes Emma feel something inside her that she’s not sure is good or bad.

“Contrary to popular belief about the Dark One, I did not choose this power willingly. It was forced upon me by a former Dark One. You see, only one can exist at a moment in time, and the only way to steal the power is to steal the life that holds such power.” He then goes on to explain how many years ago, his brother’s wife had fallen sick from her pregnancy and they were not sure if the baby would survive, the three of them searched for a cure around different lands, different royal families, they had to find something to save her but had no such luck. “One night, we had grown tired and stopped to find shelter for the night, when Elsa, my brother's wife began to bleed, she was losing the baby. Liam cried out and an old man came to our aid, asked if we would do anything to help to which I naively responded yes to. He kills them both using a type of magic I didn’t know existed.’ He can barely get through his story without stopping every few moments, and it's clear he still has a heart. “He then tells me if I take the dagger and stab him in the heart, they will be revived and the baby safe.”

“He forced you to kill him so he would be free of his curse, and in turn it then cursed you?”

“Aye love. That night has haunted me for nearly 200 years, I was desperate and if I could go back and change things I would. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to free myself that doesn’t involve trickery. I also do not wish to burden another innocent life with this curse.” He then takes Emma’s hand and looks into her eyes, “That is where you come in, Emma Darling. I saw a seer and she shared with me a vision. A golden haired demi-fae with an earth element bearing an unyielding amount of light magic has the power to free me without hurting either party.”

“And of all the demi-fae with an earth element, you believe it's me because?”

“That’s why I held the ball. I wanted to see who I was drawn to, and as soon as I met you Emma, it was clear you were the one. You are special” The way he looked at her as she said this, made her feel warm inside. For a split second Emma also thought he was going to kiss her, and that if he did, she would let him.

That was the changing point. The more time they spent together going over her magic the more confident she felt. She learnt more things about her magic that she had known were possible. She could end life as quickly as she could revive it, well, the life of a flower anyway. She could drain the life from a lily and then when it was wilting, press life back into it. Emma guessed the more she practised this, maybe she would drain the darkness from Killian.

“Have you ever experimented with other elements, Emma Darling?” He asks one day, it was the last day of the moon cycle and she was to return home. She hadn’t realised how much she would miss his company.

“I was only gifted with the earth element, my mother shares it too. My brother inherited water from my father.” She explains, “I haven’t heard of any Fae who were gifted more than one element, wouldn’t that disrupt the power balance?”

She would also miss the way he would sit there and smile at her when she rambled, he really wasn't as bad as people said he was. They didn’t know him the way she did. “Emma, you’re special. You hold the element of earth, well all elements are connected to the earth, are they not? Why don’t you try to conjure fire?”

All Fae were granted one element, fire, air, earth or water, it was unheard of for someone to hold a double or even triple elemental magic, every scripture and teacher would tell you too much power would disrupt the power balance of the universe, and everyone would suffer. But then again if she were truly the Fae in his prophecy, she was already disrupting the power of the universe.

“I wouldn’t know where to start, I don’t know anyone with that power and even if I did I-.” He was already moving towards her before she could finish her train of thought.

“All power lives inside you Emma.” He stands behind her and places his hand on her shoulders, moving down to her abdomen, “you can feel it inside you, reach deep inside and find that extra source of power.” Emma had to focus on keeping her breathing normal, he was touching her and she was feeling very strange things at the moment. Still, she does as he instructs, she feels where she knows her earth power lies, she taps into it daily. But then she tries to focus on where that power was, and if she could feel anything else. At first she could only feel her earth, but then she felt something different, she wasn’t sure what it was but it was similar to the way her earth felt.

“That's it, love.” Killian says, hand still resting on her abdomen, “hone in on that. And think of something that makes you angry, feel the fire before you conjure it.”

Pushing the way his husky breath felt on her neck aside, she thought of her mother and how she orchestrated all these suitors that were supposedly so ‘perfect’ for her, how she never listened to what she wanted and how angry she felt when she would come home from her studies to see a Prince or a Duke in her sitting room.

“Open your eyes Emma.”

Fire. A small flame coming from her palm was the sight Emma was greeted with when she opened her eyes. It didn’t burn for very long once she realised what she had done and couldn’t figure out how to control it. But she did that.

“I conjured fire.” She says with a mix of shock and excitement plastering her face.

“I told you you were powerful Emma.”

He was still standing behind her, so she turns to see him grinning at her and his gaze fixed on her, in awe of her. They’re both silent for a moment, clearly having the same internal battle inside their head. Their heads moved closer and closer until their lips finally met and Emma felt her magic on fire. Every sense was heightened with this kiss, a merge of power and lust building up from their shared time together. Killian deepens the kiss as his hand settles on her cheek while Emma’s hands find his hair. She’s being pushed up against the wall after a while, and Emma leans her head back and moans as Killian pressees kisses onto her neck and then back to her lips.

Their time together was never the same after that. Being apart from one another became harder. Every time Emma would practise her newfound powers, her thoughts would wander back to Killian and how he made her feel.

When they were together, they were rarely apart. She possessed all four elements, and took the time to learn and explore what she could do with them. Of course she had to keep this quiet when she was away from Neverland and from Killian. Her family and her court would be wary of her newfound powers, likely brand her as dark as her ‘captor’ as they referred to Killian.

“I wish you would stop calling him that, he has a name.” She finally snaps back at her mother upon her return after listening to her rattling her newest ideas on how to get out of the contract.

“He forces you to be away from your family for a whole moon cycle. He is darkening your mind with his power if you do not see what is wrong with that my sweet child.”

That taught her to keep her mouth shut. They didn’t understand. Yes, as part of a bargain she was to spend time with him, but she looked forward to those moon cycles, he understood her, listened to her, she felt he was the only person she could be herself around. Worst of it was, she was falling in love with him. No, she was in love with him. And she had an inkling that he felt the same.

The next time she comes home, yet again there is a suitor sitting in her living room. She didn’t know who this one was and frankly, she didn’t care.

“Emma. I’m glad to see you’re home in one piece.” Her mother says, and Emma rolls her eyes, pretending she wasn’t practically seething that comment. She would never understand Killian or how she felt safe with him.

“Hello mother. Who is our guest?” She asks with a fake smile, knowing full well this was another suitor she was not interested in.

The suitor offers out his hand and bows, “Lord Walsh of Oz. it is a pleasure to finally meet you, your highness.”

He was an older man, older than she was, which was not uncommon for suitors as they had to be to have a title. He was average height, nothing particularly interesting about him was jumping out at her. Her mother clearly chose this one from the same place as all the others, he was polite and overly grateful to the Queen for inviting him. They would all sip on their tea whilst Emma made polite conversation with them and they would express their interest for children and make an awful comment about being the more powerful Fae and Emma would thank them for their time as she busied herself with something else to get away. She wondered how long this one would take to get rid of.

“Lord Walsh is to be your husband. We have been setting arrangements whilst you were being held hostage.” She rolls her eyes at the hostage comment and was about to argue, until it hits what she just said.

“I’m sorry, we’re to be married when?” This was a new low, even for her mother. “Mother, may I speak with you in private?”

“Excuse us.” Snow tells Walsh as she guides her daughter into the drawing room.

“I can’t believe this. I’m away for one moon cycle and you have me married off already? I keep telling you, I want to marry for love.” She didn’t know what to feel right now, angry yes, upset yes, and also confused, why now, when the topic of suitors had never felt imminent.

“Emma, every day you spend with the Dark One is a day closer to us never seeing you again.” She tells her as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“If this is still about him corrupting my mind, you have to know I’m still the same person as I was before the bargain.” As the Crown Princess, Emma didn’t have many choices in terms of clothing, free speech or political opinion, but she deserved the freedom to choose and to marry whoever she liked.

Her mother touched her cheek, a way she did when Emma was younger. “Emma, the fact you don’t see it worries me. This is for the best. If we send a message you’re getting married, you can convince him to call off the bargain. This is a good thing Emma, things will go back to the way they were.”

She may have spent more moon cycles with the Dark One than planned, but she sure as hell was not dark herself, Killian couldn’t corrupt her when he was only trying to heal. She was different, she admits that, but it was a good different. She was powerful, confident in her abilities and her magic. Something that only came from being with Killian.

But she was the princess. Her parents, the King and Queen. She could fight with them about many things, but this was orchestrated by them. She could try to refuse this marriage, but she would need a valid reason, another prince or duke to replace Lord Walsh. It was a horrifying thought, but she didn’t have a choice. She was going to have to marry him.

What she wanted was to run away with Killian. She wanted to free him of his curse, help him heal. She did not want to be bound to him for a moon cycle at a time, she wished to spend as much time as she wished. But if she did that then her parents would come looking, they would send armies to search for her, it would cost the kingdom more money than they have. Running away would cause a civil war.

All because she fell in love with the wrong Fae.

________________________________________

“I know you feel it too. Please Emma, don’t deny it.” He pleads, keeping the shadows clouding around them for a little while longer.

“I don’t deny it. I’m just in shock.” She admits. Having a mate in this world was rare, but those who were lucky enough to be granted one would be damned for all eternity if they chose to reject their mate. She had grown up with a legend of a male who loved another for years before meeting his mate, they chose to be apart and he died of heartache. She isn’t sure how much of that was true, but there was a reason they were chosen to be mates by the universe. She couldn’t marry Lord Walsh, no matter how hard her mother worked, marrying someone she had no love for knowing her mate, her true love was just out of reach would be too painful a life to lead. “Killlian, if we’re doing this, it has to be right, we have to follow the rules. If I run away now, it will only start a war.”

Killian nods in understanding, “We do this the right way. I claim you in front of everyone, and if you claim me back there is nothing they can do to stop.” He gives her a quick kiss before disbanding the shadows around them and hides from onlookers until it's time.

The crowd are unaware anything happened as she begins her descent down the flowery aisle. She spies her family in the crowd, her mother looking so happy, her brother next to her smiling brightly and her father trying not to cry as she takes his arm. He was meant to be giving her away to Walsh, but he was indirectly handing his daughter over to the Dark One. This was going to break their hearts, but she hoped they would see that Killian made her happy, the life she was choosing for herself was far better than the one her family were choosing for her.

Walsh stands at the end of the aisle by the arch, his family were noble and would prosper from this union, more land and a grander estate. All of that was meaningless though, he didn’t love Emma either, it was his family pushing this marriage as much as it was her own. She was leaving a lot behind, her brother would become Crown Prince, and her mother would likely push a marriage for him too, likely to Princess Alexandra of the Western Kingdom to save the Kingdom from too much heartbreak of a runaway Princess. But it was worth it, the time spent with Killian made her feel alive for the first time in her life, she discovered things about her she didn’t know she could do.

“We are gathered today to witness the marital union between these two people. Lord Walsh of Oz, and Princess Emma of Misthaven.”

Emma spies Killians shadows from just beyond the arch, waiting for the right time.

“If there is any reason why these two should not be married, Speak Now or forever hold your peace.”

Silence from the crowd. Until shadows grow and at the other end of the aisle, Killian transfigures. “I object.”

The crowd begins to stir, chatter arises, some people even scream. “Under what grounds?”

“I have come to claim Emma. As my Mate.”

Shock horror from the crowd once again, she hears her parents cries and pleads not to go through with this, but she had no choice, this was for her own happiness, she was putting herself first for once.

“Do you claim me as I claim you?” He asks, knowing her answer.

“I claim you, Killian Jones, as my mate.”

Neither were sure exactly what would happen when they said those words, legend said mates had to claim one another in words, whether that be in public or in private. Considering mates were rare and neither had met or heard of anyone that had a mate, they were unaware if anything were meant to happen after they had claimed one another, whether it be lighting from the sky or if they would feel it in their hearts.

Neither were prepared for their right arms to suddenly have ink appear and spiral into a tattoo, matching with one another. Confirming their mateship and that they were now bound to one another, there was nothing anyone could do about it.

With a last look of pity and sorrow at her family, she runs into her new mates arms, and they disappear in a cloud of shadow.

Emma was going home.

#captain swan #captain swan fanfic #cs ff #cs fic rec #my writing #cssns23 #captain swan supernatural summer

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caught-in-the-filter · 1 year ago

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CSSNS 2023 - @cssns

She's dead. He's undead. They're making it work.

#captain swan #cssns #captain swan supernatural summer #cssns23 #vampire!killian #idk y'all. I saw the skeleton bride photo and the spooky cake and haunted bedroom.#and I love vampire!killian. so. they're getting married and we'll pretend it's a late 90s early 2000s romcom tagline or something.#kayla's art #kayla's aesthetics #cs aesthetics #kayla's cs aesthetics #what even are my tags for these anymore. it's been a while.

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ohmightydevviepuu · 2 years ago

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fanbinding: the sword and the heart

and the last but certainly not the least of what i've been calling the masha collection, after the incredible inspiration that is @mariakov81 and her support and talent and fandom: The Sword and the Heart.

full season 5 divergence written for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2020 (@cssns) by me and by @thisonesatellite.

half-letter folio--binding method: coptic covers with coptic/french link stitch combination. black thread for the ~aesthetic~

paper: neenah cougar cream vellum 70# text weight covers: giclee print on hahnemuhle william turner 310 gsm, sealed with archival modpodge

title page by @mariakov81 (hand drawn pen and ink) title graphics by me, using art from medesulda cover calligraphy by @thisonesatellite

#cs fic #cs canon divergence #season 5 #fanbinding #renegade bindery #door of time books #captain swan supernatural summer #cssns2020 #cssns

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grimmswan · 1 year ago

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Dracula in Storybrooke 4

Captain Swan Supernatural Summer

Once Upon A Time/ Emma Swan/Killian Jones

“Dracula has powers that give him an advantage. One of which is the ability to create his own army.” David pointed out.

“Those he turned only inherited strength, speed, and of course, the hunger for blood. Very few have more abilities than that.” Smee said.

Emma thought of some of the vampire movies she had seen.

“Reading minds? Controlling people? That’s not typical?”

“Those who manifest other skills usually have a hint of such talent as a human. The turning allowed them to tap in and strengthen such skill.”

“So let's hope that if Dracula does create an army, that none of them develop special powers.” Killian sighed.

“Princess Emma has powers of her own.” Leroy reminded everyone. “She’s got magic. All she has to do is send beams of light at the vampires and they can’t get near her. Or anyone that’s with her.”

“You’re forgetting how fast they are. We don’t want a horde surrounding Emma and draining her dead before she has a chance to conjure her magic.”

“Dracula won’t allow any of the other vampires to feed on Emma. He’s kind of selfish and possessive in that regard. No one touches a potential bride.”

“That works in our favor. If he won’t want anyone laying a hand on Emma, then he will most likely always be alone when he goes after her.”

“Not exactly. He’s done it before. He sent some of his female minions to distract the hunting party after him while he seduced Mina.”

“That hunting party was entirely made up of men.” Snow correctly guessed. “We’re not going to be as easily distracted.”

“My, my, my, you have quite the spirit. It would be most enjoyable, I think, to have you as my bride as well.”

Everyone turned, in shock, in the direction of the voice. Drake emerged from the shadowed back hallway of the diner.

“What’s with all of the pretty boys of this town being overly dramatic?” Leroy gruffed with a roll of his eyes.

Ignoring the dwarf, Drake stepped closer. “Immortality would ensure that your loveliness never fades away.”

A ball of white light hit the vampire, causing him to hiss and step back.

“Stay away from my mother, you prick.” Emma warned, holding up her hands that held balls of white light.

“Oh, don’t be jealous, my love. I am fully capable of pleasuring many women.”

But as crooning and seductive as he made his voice sound, he was still hit with multiple beams of light.

“I am not your love. I’m his.” Emma tilted her head toward her pirate. “And even if you were the last man in existence, I wouldn’t be with a creep like you.”

“I warned you. Your pursuit of the savior is ill advised.”

Dracula shot a glare toward his former minion. “I have no choice in the matter. I require a bride. And only a special type of lady will do.”

His gaze traveled to Emma. His eyes slowly moved over her form. Certain that if a pirate had been able to seduce her, then a powerful vampire noble could seduce her away from the pirate.

He just needed to show her he had more poise, elegance and class then a dirty drunken pirate.

"Her scent is warm and sweet, like fresh honey on a summer's day. It calls to me like nothing else has."

“Such a shame you’re wearing that silver necklace. Your throat is lovely enough without something around it.”

Emma noticed Draked tongue slip out slightly, wetting his lips as his eyes focused too intently on her neck.

Killian understood the draw to Emma’s scent. And a man would have to be blind to not appreciate her beauty. But while Dracula wanted to own Emma, Killian wanted to cherish her.

“Come near her lovely throat and your’s will be severed in half.” Killian growled, pointing his saber at The Count.

Drake was growing frustrated. Not only did the savior not seem at all interested, but she actually seemed to be getting annoyed with him.

The pirate was making things more difficult by insisting on talking.

Seeing that he wasn’t going to get anywhere with so many people around, he took his leave, but with one more word he hoped would entice the savior.

“Think of what I said. Eternal beauty. You will never grow old. You will never die. And you will remain powerful. Forever.”

But Emma was not someone who would allow fancy parting words.

“I think I’d rather die.”

Letting out a huff of irritation that his exit had been ruined, he sped away.

Charming looked at his wife. “I know we’re usually supposed to help and at least try to redeem the villains we face. But right now, I would much rather just drive a stake through Dracula’s heart.”

Snow, moving closer to her husband, thinking of the perverted things the vampire implied, surprised several people when she said, “I was just wondering if several silver tipped arrows shot at him would do the trick.”

“His pale chest would be an easy target. I don’t know why he keeps his shirt unbuttoned. It’s not like he has any chest hair to show off.” Killian grumbled.

Fighting back her laughter, Emma wrapped her arms around her foolishly jealous lover’s neck, soothing him with a wide grin. “I know, baby. He just doesn’t understand a vampire could never be as sexy as a pirate.”

“I know when you’re mocking me, Swan.” He growled.

But he still smiled at her good natured teasing.

Dracula grew more irritated. He stuck to the shadows as he made his way to his hidden home.

Emma Swan was as hard headed as she was beautiful. Nothing he had said seemed to have any affect on her.

Drake was determined to have Emma for himself. But seducing her away from her pirate was proving more difficult then he had anticipated.

None of the other brides had given him so much trouble.

He realized that he needed a different technique to obtain the powerful beauty.

An Idea came to him that maybe the best way to capture the savior was to turn her lover into a vampire.

#captain swan #once upon a time #cssns23 #emma swan #ouat #killian jones #emma and killian #emma x killian #captain swan supernatural summer #grimmswanfic #dracula in storybrooke

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cssns · 10 months ago

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It’s That Time of Year Again!!!!

Time to see if there’s still interest for another year of the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer!!!

We the mods have had a chance to discuss, and if there’s enough interest in another round, then we are willing to go again. So let us know by replying to this post and please help us spread the word!! We can’t do it alone! We need your help!! We’ll be making a decision sometime next week!!

#cssns #captain swan supernatural summer #cssns24?#is there enough interest?#let’s go y’all!!!

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thejollyroger-writer · 2 years ago

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These Are the Risks - Chapter 3

SUMMARY: Special Agent Emma Swan has been working with her partner, world-renowned forensic anthropologist Killian Jones, for just under five years. Together, they have solved hundreds of murders, brought criminals to justice, and found a family in their coworkers at the Hyperion Research Institute. Their newest case sends them to the small town of Storybrooke, Maine, where they must go undercover as newlyweds in hopes of solving the eerie, unexplainable recent deaths. When they find something that science cannot explain, they only put themselves in more danger, and a final situation that makes them face the feelings they’ve been hiding since day one.

A/N: Welcome back to my 2021 Captain Swan Supernatural Summer entry! It’s a combination of a BONES au (with Killian as Bones) and supernatural dark magic – I hope you enjoy it! Special thanks to @eastwesthomeisbest for her AMAZING art, the other mods at @cssns for making this event happen, David Boreanaz for being one of the nicest humans, and my faithful readers. (If you’re not on my tag list and you would like to be, please let me know!) Yes, okay, I know it’s taken me a whole year to get here. Life happened – and believe me, no one is more upset than I am about the time it took to get here. Anyway, here’s chapter 2!

Read/reread chapter one here / on AO3

Read chapter 2 on AO3 / tumblr

Read ch 3 on AO3

"Ruby," Graham breathes, then takes off through the forest. A silent beat passes, Emma and Killian sharing a glance.

Killian shrugs.

Emma takes a small breath, her shoulders rising and falling, and then she takes off, dipping between the trees. For a moment — but no longer than a moment — she wonders if leaving Killian with the body was a terrible idea. And then she half-trips over a branch and catches herself, losing the thought with her footing.

"Graham?" she calls, cresting the hill, but calling out isn't necessary. She sees him right away, the crisp white of his dress shirt standing out against the dark colors of the forest. And there with him, his arms wrapped around her shoulders, is Ruby, still sobbing. Beside them, an older woman with a head of white curly hair stands with her arms crossed, the shake of her head visible to Emma even from yards away.

"Goodness, Ruby, all of this crying is unnecessary. It's not like I'm dead."

"But you could have been! You've been missing for days, no word from you, nothing!"

"So why are you so upset?"

"I'm not upset, Granny. I'm thrilled."

Ruby slips out of Graham's arms to smother this woman — Granny — with a hug. Now that she is only a few steps away, Emma sees the roll of Granny's eyes — but also sees the smile that the woman allows to appear for only a moment.

Her glare when she notices Emma for the first time, though, is something that she does not even try to hide. "And who the hell are you?"

Emma is more than used to being talked to in this manner, but hearing the words come out of the older woman's mouth take her aback, if only for a moment. But that is long enough for Ruby to supply an answer.

"Granny, this is Emma! She and her husband are here on their honeymoon, they know Graham."

She hums, like she can see right through Ruby's lie, narrowing her eyes at Emma. "And where is your husband?"

Emma gestures towards the top of the hill, the direction she came from. "I left him up there, he was looking at the—" She stops herself from saying dead body. "View.'

Granny still doesn't believe her, she can sense it with her whole body, but she thankfully drops it.

"Well, let's get back to my restaurant. I'm sure you've taken very good care of it while I've been gone."

"Actually, Mrs. Lucas, if you don't mind, I would like to ask you some questions about where you've been." Emma is thankful for Graham at this moment, asking the question that she so desperately wants the answer to. But the daggers she shoots Graham through a half-lidded glare are sharp enough that Emma feels them in her chest.

"I'm not going to give you answers you're satisfied with, so you might as well just drop it."

Emma watches his mouth open, the words caught in his throat, but he says nothing. Instead, he nods at her.

"Yes, ma'am," he says.

Satisfied with his response, she turns away, taking off through the woods in the direction of the town.

"Would you like a ride, Mrs. Lucas?"

She grumbles something, not even turning around, and continues through the trees, Ruby half a step behind her.

For a moment, the only sound around them is broken sticks and fallen leaves under Ruby and Mrs. Lucas' feet. Once the sound subsides, the silence that sits between them is almost deafening.

Emma so desperately needs to break the silence, something about the silence of the forest seeping deeper into her bones with each passing moment. There is something eerie about these woods, something that Killian would try to explain with science and logic, but she somehow knows that no such explanation exists.

"So that's Mrs. Lucas." She remembers a little from the thorough packet of information Graham sent them, plus the bits and pieces she has picked up since then. Beverly Lucas, owner of Granny's diner, has certainly been around long enough to know the darkest secrets of Storybrooke. Whatever is going on here, Granny at least knows something, Emma is sure of it. But getting the old woman to tell what she knows is not going to be easy, especially given how she responded to Graham trying to question her.

Graham just laughs in response. "Yeah, that's Granny."

"She knows something."

"She knows everything."

"She's been missing for, what, six days? That doesn't just happen. Whatever is going on here, she's either in on it or knows about it."

"I have no doubt you're right, Agent Swan, but it's going to take more than a gut feeling to get Granny to talk."

"And you're okay with that?"

"You really don't know much about small towns, do you?" He chuckles softly but doesn't give her a chance to respond. “We should go find your husband — uh, partner, and my mortician before there's another murder on our hands."

She knows he is trying to be funny, but the idea of another death in this small town, a place already so affected by loss, sends a shiver down her spine that has nothing to do with the breeze coming through the trees.

Thankfully, Killian and Dr. Whale seem to have taken to silence over arguing, but she can tell from the look on Killian’s face, from his posture as he sits on a nearby rock, that he is none too happy about this development. When his eyes met Emma's, the incredulity on his face grows, dark eyebrows raising farther up his creased forehead,

Emma just smiles, moving to sit beside him on his chosen rock.

"Any news, Victor?" Graham asks, standing behind the man as he continues his examination of the body and the scene around it.

Victor doesn't even look up from the body. “I’m not going to call it for sure until we get a blood test done, but I am fairly certain this is Isaac Heller. Hard to tell with the exsanguination and mummification, but as far as I can remember, he’s the only one that’s missing that fits this body type.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, I mean, he’s frozen. And not even trying to thaw, which is, of course, incredibly odd.” Nothing in Dr. Whale’s voice makes it sound odd, though; his voice is a steady monotone, an accent that Emma cannot quite place.

She doesn’t like him. She can’t say what it is, but there is something about the doctor’s countenance that tips her off just a little.

With a small smile, she sits down beside Killian on his rock. Playing his part, he wraps his arm around her, moves his lips close to her ear, but instead of pressing a kiss against her cheek, he whispers, “There was a weapon, which seemed to throw the doctor off.”

Not sure what to do with this information, she turns her attention back to Dr. Whale, turning the body back onto its stomach as it was found.

“How are we getting him out of here, sheriff?”

“Do you not think a regular gurney will work?”

“Of course it’ll work, but how do we push it through the forest?”

“You carry it,” Killian says, needing to be a part of the conversation — plus, it's the obvious answer. “Not a gurney you can roll, but one you carry like a pall.”

Both Graham and Dr. Whale turn their eyes towards him, Graham already trying to figure out how he is going to explain this knowledge and Whale’s eyes burning with anger.

“You expect me to help carry a mummified, frozen body out of these woods?”

“Why wouldn’t you help? It’s part of your job as a coroner.”

“How do you know anything about my job here, Mr. Jones?”

Doctor. Emma can feel the words catch behind his teeth, begging to correct Dr. Whale, but with a flex of his jaw, he stays silent.

“There is nothing to argue about, gentlemen,” Graham says, trying his hardest to diffuse the situation.

Killian is absolutely right, of course: once the coroner’s van manages to get as close as it can via an access road, the only option left is for four of them to carry the gurney between them, moving slowly and together to avoid tripping on roots or otherwise harming the body. They only have to move it a few hundred feet, but it’s rough, rocky terrain.

Sweat drips from Killian’s brow and through Graham’s dress shirt by the time they reach the van, and the other two young men helping haul the gurney are just as exhausted.

It's easy enough to convince Dr. Whale to let Emma and Killian follow them to the small morgue: they came to the woods with Graham and would otherwise be stranded. Emma can tell he isn't thrilled by it, though; in fact, he barely tries to hide his displeasure with their presence.

"Why did you say you're in Storybrooke again?" he asks, pointing his camera at a wound on the body's left arm.

"We're here for our honeymoon!" Emma replies, trying to sound as upbeat as possible, but it just draws a raised eyebrow from Whale.

"Don't see many people attending autopsies when they're supposed to be celebrating their marriage."

She's sure they're a sight: Whale in his scrubs and apron, slowly photographing the body as it sits, still frozen, on the table in the middle of the room; Emma and Graham seated by the counter on the only two chairs in the room, each with their own notebook on their lap; and Killian, standing on the opposite side of the gurney as Whale, watching his actions like a hawk, all while pretending not to be engrossed. His hands are clasped behind his back, a too-small white apron tied over his torso, and Emma is certain that there is not an action done by Whale that Killian will not be able to describe in full later that evening.

His attention to detail has always been astounding to her, especially watching the specific way he combs through a crime scene or senses the smallest change in someone's countenance. She could spend hours watching him work, the sleeves of his sweaters pushed up to his elbows, bright eyes collecting every piece of what is happening around him. It is the same attention that she has seen him pay to numerous autopsies during their time together, but this is the first she can remember that he is paying just as much attention to the man performing it than to the body itself.

"I have always been a thanatologist," Killian replies, taking slow steps around the table that mirror Whale's, always keeping as much of the body as possible between them. "A passion like mine does not disappear just because I'm celebrating."

Whale looks up, narrowing his eyes at Killian through his glasses. "What the hell is a thanatologist?"

Killian chuckles, finally raising his eyes to meet the doctor's. "I study death in all forms. Historically, medically, forensically."

They're getting awfully close to revealing what Killian actually does, which Emma wants to avoid at all costs — but Whale just laughs.

"No wonder you think you know more than I do about all of this. I am so far out of my league here, it's not even funny. I was never trained for death, I went to school for pediatrics. But here I am, doctor, surgeon, and mortician in this town."

"Have you always lived in Storybrooke?" Emma asks, hoping to veer away from the subject, and Whale turns to face her.

For a moment, he seems angry about her question, but then his face softens. "No, I moved here as an intern in medical school. The hospital is small enough that they only take two or three, and I was one of the lucky ones. Then something kept drawing me further in and it was almost like I couldn't leave."

"Do you have family around here?" All basic questions, but all helping Emma get a better idea of who Whale really is.

His face darkens again. "I had a brother, but I lost him a few years ago."

"I'm sorry," Emma says. And she is. Even though she has never really had a family, she has grown close to some people that she cannot imagine living her life without: David and Mary and Belle — and Killian, though her feelings about him are much more complicated.

"Yes, well," he mumbles, then turns back to the body. For a few minutes, the room is silent, save the sounds of Whale working: the scraping of his shoes against the linoleum floor, a small metal crash every time he sets the camera down on the steel table. Graham begins to flip through the crime scene photos, newly printed from the computer behind them, and Emma glances over his shoulder at them, taking notes on the pad she keeps in her jacket.

Finally, Whale clears his throat, untying the apron around his waist. "I won't be able to perform an autopsy on the body in this state. It needs some time to thaw, so I'll just keep it here — locked up, of course — and come back this evening."

If he wasn't sure the body was frozen solid, Killian would have found this decision suspicious; but after watching Whale attempt multiple instruments and fail to break skin with any one of them, he agrees that he would have come to the same decision. As much as he would prefer to be present for this autopsy — especially after seeing the pictures from the others — there would be no feasible reason for them to return that evening without blowing their cover.

So, instead of pushing, Killian nods his head, grabbing his jacket off a hook by the rear door, then wrapping his hand around Emma's as they exit the basement morgue, all the while hoping that this man can prove useful enough to provide some helpful information for their investigation.

“You’re here late,” David says, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible. If he hadn’t known she was still here, he never would have noticed the single desk lamp in their workroom shining over the desk furthest from the corner. Despite his attempt to be quiet, Mary Margaret still jumps, the book in her hands almost falling on the floor. David can’t help but chuckle. “Sorry, I was trying not to scare you.”

The hand pressed to her chest just proves that he didn’t succeed. “There’s something eerie about being here once the sun goes down,” she replies, closing her book and setting it on the desk in front of her. “You’re one to talk, though, you don’t even work here. What brings you here past sundown?”

“I had a meeting with Rob, a short video chat with Emma and Jones, and then we just got caught talking about—” He literally has to bite his tongue to keep from telling the truth: they were talking about her, his plans to propose, ask her to move in with him. “Some things.”

“Have you eaten yet?” she asks, either missing his almost-trip-up or choosing to ignore it as he crosses the room to stand beside her desk.

He smiles. “Lucky for you, I was waiting for my overworked girlfriend to call me.”

“Great,” she mumbles, letting him help her to her feet before turning off the light above the desk, the only light in the room spilling in from the hallway.

They share a quiet moment, a soft kiss before Mary presses her cheek to David’s chest. And that’s when they hear it: shoes against the linoleum of the hallway floors, the very sound that Mary Margaret failed to hear as David approached.

And a voice.

“Yes, they said they’d be sending my resume to Dr. Jones today, but I have the position already.”

“Who do you think—” Mary Margaret starts, but David puts his finger to his lips, shushing her.

He needs to hear this.

“I signed the paperwork this afternoon then spent some time acclimating myself to the space, just like you suggested.”

David recognizes the voice vaguely but he can’t place it. Thankfully, between the lack of light in the workroom and the lights in the hallway, they can see perfectly through the window-wall without fear that the owner of the voice can see them.

“Yes, as long as it doesn’t happen for a few days, I can intercept the package when it arrives from Storybrooke.”

Mary Margaret gasps. She’s read the case files — the smaller, condensed version that Robin put together for the team.

David stares down at her, eyes wide. She pinches her lips shut, pressing her face into his shirt again.

He recognizes him through the window. Devin Skyler, the newest intern. He has to tell Robin, once they’re not hiding in the shadows. Devin Skyler is working with someone — they just have to learn who.

��He's been here before, Killian realizes, looking around him. Recently. He can't wrap his head around what day it is, nonetheless how long it has been since he was last in these woods, but they have a sense of urgent familiarity that he cannot shake.

He puts his hand out ahead of him, as if something were going to stop him from entering the clearing just on the other side of the tree line. With his hand still ahead of him, he takes a step towards the clearing, then another — but stops in his tracks when he focuses on a movement beyond the trees.

His father. That's impossible, he knows. Because even if the man were still alive — which he doubts — there is no way he would ever come here.

Storybrooke. That's where he is.

Lowering his hand, he slowly moves his foot to take a step back, but freezes when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

"Where are you going?" the voice asks — a voice that he recognizes immediately. Another that he knows to be only a ghost. Seven impossible things, a small voice in the back of his mind mutters, remembering a line from a book his mother used to read them.

His mind is full of ghosts today.

“What is he doing here?” Killian asks, ignoring the fact that he knows the man he is speaking to is dead.

“I don’t have the answers, little brother,” Liam answers, his voice echoing in the forest in a way that shouldn’t be possible.

“Come here, boys,” his father calls, and he turns away from Liam to glance at his father. But when he turns back, Liam is a boy again, younger than when they left England. Killian somehow knows that he, too, is also a boy.

“We can’t.” Killian finally remembers his last experience in this forest, but Brennan smiles and holds out his hand.

“You can now,” he says, and Killian somehow knows he is right. He looks down at the ground as he steps through the tree line and notices a dark line on the ground, his whole body shuddering as he steps over it.

“What was that?” Killian breathes, simultaneously excited and terrified.

Liam is the one who answers: “Magic.”

Killian shakes his head. “There’s no such thing as magic.”

“What if you’re wrong?” a voice — a female voice that he knows he recognizes — whispers in the back of his mind.

“I’m not wrong,” he insists, and feels himself growing, feels the years pass as he crosses the clearing to Brennan, who holds out his hands to embrace his son, except they’re stained with blood.

No, they’re dripping blood.

“What if you’re wrong?” the female voice asks again, and he feels pulled away from Brennan, like he should turn and run.

“The rarest kind of magic.” This time, it’s his father who speaks, his words having the same eerie echo that Liam’s had before as he reaches out to take Killian’s hand. “You know this, son. Why are you running from it?”

“No!” he yells, pulling his arm out of his father’s grip, though he loses his footing and falls to the ground.

Keeps falling.

And jumps awake, sitting up in bed with a gasping breath, trying to pull himself together.

Storybrooke. Mummified bodies. Science. All things he can understand, all things with explanations that he and his interns will find through their inquisition.

“Jones?” Emma asks, looking up from her cell phone from where she is sitting in the corner of their room. “Are you okay?”

He nods, running his hand over his face. It was just a dream. Just the first dream he has had about his father for years, though every part of it felt so familiar. “Just a bloody weird dream,” he mutters — then shudders at his word choice, remembering the blood dripping from his father’s hands. “Just a dream,” he says again, this time only to himself, as he pulls himself out of bed.

#these are the risks #cssns #cssns 21 #captain swan #captain swan supernatural summer #bones au

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jrob64 · 2 months ago

Text

Ghosted (Now a complete story!)

Chapter 5 - Moving Forward

Well, the 'short' epilogue I intended to write turned into a 9300+ word final chapter for this story. This chapter does contain two smut scenes (I only planned for there to be one, but these two idiots couldn't keep their hands, and other things, to themselves.) Both my beta @hookedmom and my artist @kmomof4 requested there be smut, and since I owe them so much for their work on this story, I couldn't refuse. If smut is not your thing, look for the double asterisks for when it begins and ends.

STORY SUMMARY: When Emma Swan’s ex-boyfriend dies, she’s haunted by his ghost. Her neighbor, Killian Jones, a ghost hunter who has a YouTube channel, realizes what’s happening and offers to help. However, there’s more at stake than simply helping the apparition move on. There’s also the matter of Killian telling Emma he’s in love with her.

RATING: M (for smut in this chapter)

WORDS (Ch. 5): 9327

Previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4

Also posted on Ao3 and ffn

*********

Emma and Killian kissed, cuddled and talked into the wee hours of the morning, before the exhaustion from the events of the day finally overtook them. When Killian’s eyes finally blinked open, bright sunlight was shining through the opening between the curtains in Emma’s bedroom. He was unwilling to wake her by trying to reach her phone on the nightstand to check the time, so he decided to be content holding her in his arms, reflecting on everything that happened between the two of them in the last two days.

Now that Neal’s ghost was hopefully gone for good, they could go on the date they discussed - was it really only a day ago? A lot had happened since then. No wonder the two of them slept so late.

Slowly, he brought his hand up to brush Emma’s hair away from the side of her face. Since she was lying on her side facing away from him, he was unable to see her features, but he could tell she was relaxed and sleeping peacefully. After watching her experience nightmares several times without being able to help, he was very happy he had a hand in helping her find that peace.

As his mind began to wander, he considered how things were going to change. Now that their feelings were revealed, he and Emma would obviously be spending more time together - going out on dates and frequenting each other’s apartment more often. Belle and Will started dating, which might affect the dynamics of the work environment.

Liam would move on.

Sudden tears burned Killian’s eyes. Liam’s unfinished business was making sure Killian had someone to love, and now he had Emma. It was only a matter of time before he would be saying goodbye to his brother again.

While visits from Liam’s spirit weren’t the same as having him there physically, at least he could speak with him and feel his presence. Once he was gone, Killian wouldn’t even have that comfort anymore. He had faith that one day he would spend eternity with Liam in Heaven because he and his brother were both believers in Jesus. At least they wouldn’t meet the same fate as Neal, but his time with his brother on Earth would be over

Suddenly, a thought struck Killian for what he was ashamed to realize was the first time. Liam had stayed because he needed to make sure his ‘little brother’ was going to be okay, even at the cost of his own peace. The fact that Killian never considered that before made him feel like the most selfish person in the world. Of course it would be difficult to say that final goodbye, but if anyone deserved to be at rest, it was his loyal big brother.

With his mind so totally engrossed with thinking about Liam, he failed to recognize that Emma had awakened and turned to face him. It wasn’t until he felt her fingers on his cheek that he shook himself out of his thoughts.

“Killian?” she asked, a furrow of concern across her forehead. “Are you okay?”

He briefly considered telling her he was fine, but didn’t want to lie to her. “I, uh, I was just thinking…about Liam.”

“Did you get another visit from him?”

“No, not this morning. It’s just, I…I’ve been incredibly selfish,” he admitted.

“You? Killian Jones, you don’t have a selfish bone in your body. Why would you say that?”

“Because,” he started, then closed his eyes and took several breaths, trying not to get emotional. “Because he…he’s stayed here with me for six years. Six years, Emma! He could have been enjoying his eternal rest for six years, but hasn’t because he’s been too worried about watching over me.”

“But that was his choice, wasn’t it?”

“The last thing Mum told him before she passed was to take care of me,” he said, tears falling unbidden from his eyes. “And Liam is so stubborn, he wouldn’t move on without making sure I was going to be happy and…”

“In love?” she finished.

“Aye.”

She brushed away his tears, first from one cheek, then the other. “Now that we are,” she said quietly, “his unfinished business is done, isn’t it?”

He nodded, dropping his eyes.

“And he’ll be moving on,” she stated simply.

“Aye, and even though he’s put that off for so long because of me, I still don’t want him to go. Which proves that I’m the most selfish person alive.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Emma said firmly. “You love your brother and don’t want to lose him. Again.” When he still wouldn’t look at her, she took his face between her hands. “Killian, my love, I know it’s going to be hard for you to say goodbye to him. Wanting to hang onto him is natural, but you’ve had more time with him than most people who lose someone they love. Just think of it though - he’ll be in Heaven watching over you. Someday, you’ll be reunited with him and you’ll never have to say goodbye again.”

He attempted to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it. She gathered him in her arms, holding him tightly and rubbing comforting hands along his back and through his hair.

“Thank you, Love,” he whispered hoarsely, emotion clogging his throat.

She didn’t answer, but gave him a gentle kiss on the lips and continued to calm his racing mind and aching heart with her gentle, loving touch. Just when he finally felt like he had his sorrow under control, her stomach rumbled loudly, causing both of them to laugh.

He reluctantly pulled himself away from her embrace, cocking an eyebrow as he asked, “Would you like some breakfast, Swan?”

“What time is it?” she asked, stretching her arms over her head.

Killian spotted her phone on the nightstand, picked it up and tapped the screen to see the time. “Eleven-seventeen.”

“In the morning?” Emma gasped. “Why did you let me sleep so late?”

“I woke up just a few minutes before you. It was an extremely eventful and exhausting day yesterday, so I believe we earned the right to sleep in. Is there somewhere you need to be today?”

She thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think I have anything going on - today is my day off.”

“In that case, I vote for being lazy all day.”

“You don’t have anything to do, either?”

“No, except to call…shit! I’m sure Will and Belle are wondering what happened last night.”

“Why don’t you call them while I take a shower, then we’ll get something to eat.”

“Sounds like a plan, if you think you can survive without eating for that long.”

“Hey, I survived being haunted by a ghost who was intent on killing me, I think I can go a few more minutes without food.”

He chuckled as he threw back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Fair point, Love. I need to find my phone. I don’t remember where I put it.”

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t bring it into the bedroom last night. I saw it on the coffee table while you were reading to me. And speaking of coffee…”

“I’ll start the coffee maker while you shower.” Twisting his body around to look at her, he asked, “Will you be okay? The last time you took a shower was pretty traumatic for you.”

She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “How sure are you that he’s gone?”

“I’ve never experienced something like that before, but after what we witnessed last night, I’m almost positive. However,” he smirked, “if you’re afraid to take a shower alone, I could join you.”

She playfully nudged him with her shoulder. “Thanks for the very generous offer, but I think I can manage.”

He grinned. “Well, if you’re sure, I’ll go find my phone.” Leaning in, he gave her a kiss, then stood up and left the room.

After switching on the coffee maker, he found his device right where Emma said. Swiping his finger across it, he saw several notifications on the lock screen. When he unlocked it, his messages icon announced nine texts.

As he sat down to begin reading them, he heard the bathroom door close. He sat frozen until he heard the water begin to run, then let out a relieved breath. Turning his attention back to the messages, he saw six of them were from Will and three from Belle, all asking what happened with increasing degrees of intensity. He laughed at the final one from Will, which simply said, “ARE YOU FUCKING DEAD????”

Quickly dialing his number, he wasn’t surprised when Will picked up after less than a complete ring. “What the fuck, Kil?” he exploded. “You said you’d let us know what happened last night. Here it is, middle of the day and not a bloody word from ya! We’re on pins and needles over here.”

“We?” Killian questioned. “Does that mean Belle is there with you?”

“Aye. We were texting back and forth this mornin’, seein’ if you’d bothered to contact either of us, so she just came over to my place. That way, if a police officer showed up at my door to tell me my best friend had been found dead because of an attack by a ghost, at least we’d be together for the news.”

“Dial down the dramatics, Scarlett,” Killian said. “I’m sorry I didn’t contact you, but we just woke up a few minutes ago. And before you start making remarks about what kept us up so late…”

“Why would ya think I would do somethin’ like that?” Will interrupted.

“Because I know you.”

“Will,” Belle piped up, “let Killian tell us what happened.”

“Sorry, boss. Did Cassidy show up?”

“He did. I was able to enter Emma’s dream and wake her up from the trance…”

“How were you able to do that?” Belle asked.

“I, uh…I kissed her,” Killian admitted.

“So screamin’ in her face didn’t work, but kissin’ her did?” Will asked.

“How romantic,” Belle sighed.

“Anyway,” Killian said, eager to move ahead with the story, “as soon as Emma was awake, she yelled at Neal, telling him she didn’t want to die and spend eternity with him because that would literally be hell for her.”

“Bravo, blondie!” Will interjected.

“She was bloody brilliant, but of course Neal didn’t give up. He kept trying to pull her away from me, until she screamed at him to go to Hell.”

“Then what happened?” Belle asked, obviously on the edge of her seat.

“I don’t know how I’m going to be able to describe the next events to you. I’ve never seen anything like it and I hope I never do again.” Killian took a few moments, picturing the chaotic scene in his mind. “A huge, black opening appeared and a Hell beast came out of it, along with a bunch of its minions.”

“Oh, my word!” Belle exclaimed. “What did they look like?”

Killian described the beasts the best he could and could hear Belle gasp, while Will muttered, “Bloody fucking hell.”

Killian paused the story when he heard the shower shut off, listening intently for several seconds. “Can you hold on for a minute?” he asked his friends.

“What? You’re leavin’ us hangin’ at this point in the story?” Will protested.

“I’ve got to go check on Emma. She’s getting out of the shower, and after what happened yesterday…”

“Go ahead. We’ll wait,” Belle said.

Killian quickly moved to the bathroom door and tapped on it gently. “Swan? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m not being harassed by a ghost this time,” she replied.

“Okay,” he chuckled. “Just checking.”

“Thanks. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“I’m in the middle of updating Will and Belle, so take your time.”

He went back out into the living room and picked up his phone. “Alright, where was I?”

“The Hell beasts just entered the picture,” Will reminded him.

“Right. They started coming after Neal and he screamed for Emma to help him. Then they just turned and left him, going back into the abyss.”

“They didn’t take him with them?” Will growled.

“No, but shortly afterwards these spikey, fiery ropes came out, wrapped themselves around him and dragged him away.”

“Wow!” Belle exclaimed.

“But it was all a dream, wannit?” Will pointed out.

“Supposedly, but I think the events actually happened.” Killian explained his theory about Neal creating the nightmares and pulling Emma into them. As he was finishing up, she walked into the living room, dressed in yoga pants and a loose V-neck shirt. Sitting down on the arm of the couch, she flung her arm around his shoulders and leaned into him.

“Hi Belle. Hi Will.”

Will called out a greeting, as Belle said, “Hello, Emma. Sounds like you had quite an adventure last night.”

“You can say that again. I assume Killian told you about everything that happened?” When Belle and Will both murmured their assurances, she continued, “We think Neal’s really gone this time.”

“I bloody well hope so,” Will said. “I hate to think of anyone spendin’ eternity in Hell, but after what that tosser put you through, I can’t say I feel very sorry for him.”

“We should be able to get the double episode on YouTube by the end of next week,” Belle said.

“Hey Kil, if ya don’t want us sayin’ anything about how you could get into Emma’s dreams, how are we gonna explain what happened to the spirit?” Will asked.

“Oh, that’s a good point,” Belle said.

“We’ll figure something out,” Killian answered, “but right now, Emma and I are going to get something to eat. We’re both famished.”

They said their goodbyes with a promise to get together the next day to go over edits for the episodes.

“What would you like to eat, Love?” Killian asked, rising from the couch and stretching his arms above his head.

“Technically, it’s lunch time, but we missed breakfast and I would really like a breakfast pizza.”

“That sounds good to me. Do you want it delivered?”

“Sure. Do you like Petey’s Pizza? They’ve got a good one .”

“I haven’t had it before, but I’ll take your word for it.”

They ordered the pizza, then Killian went to his apartment to take a shower while they waited for it to be delivered. He was relieved that Emma wasn’t worried about being left alone. Still, he grabbed the infrared thermometer and EMF meter before heading back to her place, just to ensure she had peace of mind.

The instruments didn’t register any paranormal activity then, or either of the other two times he tested for it during the day. They stuck to their plan of being lazy all day - watching three Mission Impossible movies while lying on the sofa together, putting in another DoorDash order for dinner, and sharing childhood memories, all interspersed with very enjoyable make-out sessions.

“This is nice,” Emma said, after one such session. “I almost forgot what it feels like to relax.”

“Mmm, it is nice,” Killian agreed, lazily running his fingers through her hair. “I was wondering…”

She pulled back a bit to look into his face. “About what?”

“About when we should go on our first date.”

“Did you have a specific day in mind?”

“It depends on your schedule. Mine is pretty flexible.”

She twisted around to reach her phone on the coffee table and opened her calendar app. “I work the next three evenings. Ashley and I switched shifts on Thursday because she’s going on a field trip with her daughter that afternoon. How about that evening?”

“That’s fine with me. They have trivia night at my favorite pub on Thursdays, so perhaps we could go there after going out to eat. What do you think?”

“That sounds fun. Do you know where Neal took me on our first date? To the horse races. I know some people enjoy it, but he didn’t even ask me if I liked racing, which I don’t, by the way. Then he spent most of the evening schmoozing with rich snobs, introducing them to me like I was supposed to be impressed.”

“If you had such a bad time, why did you go out with him again?”

“After we were there for a couple of hours, I told him to take me home. That’s when he figured out I wasn’t having a good time. He apologized all the way home and asked me to give him a second chance. Unfortunately, I did.”

“Does it bother you to talk about him?” he asked.

She thought for a moment before saying, “It used to, but not any more. I’m just glad I don’t have to put up with him or his ghost any longer.” Then a tiny smile quirked up the corners of her mouth and her eyes sparkled. “We won.”

“That we did, Love.”

“I’m still amazed that you woke me with a true love’s kiss. It’s like something out of a fairy tale.”

“It was a long shot. I had to try.”

She kissed him, then burrowed into his chest. “I’m looking forward to going on our date, but I hope I won’t have to wait until Thursday to see you again.”

“You can see me anytime you like. I’m right next door, you know.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to bother you when you’re working.”

“That’s the advantage to having a non-traditional job. I can set my own hours.”

“What about Belle and Will?”

“Evenings work better for Belle because she works at the library during the day, and Will doesn’t usually roll his lazy arse out of bed until afternoon.”

“But he sent you all of those texts this morning.”

“I’m sure he sent them while he was lying in bed.”

Emma giggled. “Do you ever give the poor guy a break?”

“He’s my best friend. I have to take the piss out of him now and then, and he does the same to me. It’s just the way we get along.”

“Take the piss out of him? What exactly does that mean?”

“Ah, it means to poke a bit of fun at him,” he explained. “Anyway, I don’t want to wait until Thursday to see you again, either. Being with you as much as I have, albeit under stressful circumstances, has spoiled me and I don’t want to go back to only seeing you sporadically.”

“Good,” she said simply, stretching up to begin another round of kisses.

*********

As much as he hated to leave Emma, Killian went back to his own apartment to sleep. While it was true their relationship was deepening, he didn’t want to assume he would be welcome to stay the night. The nights he spent with her were out of necessity to protect her and help get rid of Neal’s spirit. Now that it was gone, Killian was going to leave the choice to her.

He was surprised when Liam didn’t make an appearance for the next three days and, with a sinking feeling, was wondering if his brother had moved on without telling him goodbye. The niggling idea that Liam might have little to no warning for when his spirit moved on, or that he wanted to spare his younger brother the pain of saying that final farewell wouldn’t leave Killian’s brain. He kept busy going through the edits with Belle and Will in the evenings and spending several hours a day with Emma, but Liam was never far from his thoughts.

As he prepared for his date Thursday afternoon, he realized with surprise that he was nervous, even though he had spent the better part of a week in her presence. They talked about their expectations for their developing relationship and briefly touched on their hopes for the future, but actually taking a step in that direction was a big deal.

There was also the prospect of taking their physical relationship a step further. Their make-out sessions had grown increasingly passionate and it was becoming more difficult to bring them to a halt. They actually discussed the possibility of becoming more intimate and Emma informed him that she was on birth control. Following her break-up with Neal, she had gone to the doctor to make sure he didn’t give her any STDs. Killian assured her he tested clean also, and hadn’t been with anyone since he moved across the pond.

So as he straightened the collar of his royal blue button-down and examined his image in the mirror, he was trying not to get ahead of himself. He was determined to enjoy every moment with his lady love without letting the anticipation of what might happen intrude.

Checking his phone, he saw that it was five minutes before the time he told Emma he would be at her apartment. He stuck his wallet in his back pocket, keys and phone in his front pockets and headed for the door.

Standing in front of Emma’s apartment, he silently gave himself a quick pep talk, then blew out a breath and knocked. She opened the door immediately, as though she had been on the other side waiting impatiently.

Killian had seen Emma wear many different outfits. Dressy clothes for work and going out on dates, casual clothes, sleepwear, and even in nothing but a towel once, but he was unprepared for the vision she presented for their first date. He suspected it wasn’t that her attire was anything special, it was that she was dressed specifically to go out with him.

She was in form fitting, dark wash jeans, a short-sleeved cranberry colored blouse with a sweetheart neckline that gave him just a peek of her cleavage, and matching heels. Her hair was pulled up on one side, fastened with a silver barrette, while the rest fell in golden waves around her shoulders.

“Hey,” she breathed, a smile crossing her face, which was graced with just the right amount of flattering makeup. “You’re right on time.”

“Well, traffic wasn’t bad,” Killian grinned. “Ready to go?”

“Let me grab my purse and sweater.”

His nerves settled during the drive to the restaurant as their conversation flowed as easily as ever. They enjoyed a delicious meal, sharing an appetizer, then gave each other samples of their food once the dinner course was served.

Trivia at the pub proved to be a lot of fun. They laughed at some of the goofy answers they and other players came up with, and impressed each other with the obscure facts they knew. In the car on the way home, they bantered back and forth playfully.

“No men of college age should know so much about Sex in the City,” Killian groused.

“Oh, come on,” Emma teased. “They probably binge watched it during their freshman year before upperclassmen showed them the ropes.”

“Perhaps they should have looked into getting fake IDs instead of sitting in their dorm filling their heads with such nonsense.”

“You’re just upset they beat us.”

He glanced over at her with a raised brow. “As you should be, too, Swan. I know how competitive you are.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t really care about winning. I was just having fun playing.”

He reached over and took her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss her fingers. “I’m very happy you enjoyed yourself, Love.”

“I have to say this first date is the best I’ve ever had.”

“Is it, indeed?”

“Aye, it is,” she said, in a sad attempt to copy his accent.

He chuckled. “I’m glad the date was better than your British accent.”

“Hey!” she protested, swatting his arm with the back of her hand.

He laughed again as he pulled into the parking garage, wheeling the car into his assigned spot. As she gathered her things, he exited the car, rushing around to open the door for her, just as he had all evening.

They walked up the stairs hand-in-hand, still chatting about the trivia contest. When they stopped at Emma’s door, she turned toward him. “I know most first dates end a bit awkwardly, saying we had a good time and trying to figure out if there will be a kiss. I feel like we’ve moved beyond that point, so I’m going to take a bold step and ask you to spend the night with me.”

His eyes widened before a slow grin spread across his face. “That’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

“Mrs. Jones didn’t raise a fool, did she?”

“No, she did not.” He leaned in and touched his lips to hers. When she turned and unlocked her door, his hands went to her hips and he nuzzled into her neck.

They entered the apartment, quickly closing the door behind them. Then they were in each other’s arms, hands and lips roaming. Killian started backing her toward the couch, but she gasped, “Bedroom,” and changed their direction.

By the time they stumbled through the doorway to her room, she had his shirt unbuttoned and was tugging it out of his jeans. “Eager, are you?” he breathed into her ear.

“You have no idea.”

“Oh, trust me, I do.”

*****

Her hands caressed his chest and abs, sending shivers of pleasure up his spine. As she pushed his shirt over his shoulders, he accommodated her by shrugging out of it, letting it drop to the floor. She sucked a mark into the dip below his collar bone, then raised her eyes to look up at him through her lashes, biting her bottom lip.

His fingers found their way under the hem of her blouse, stroking the soft skin there while he began scattering kisses along the slope of her neck. The moan she made went straight to his groin, which was already stirring to life.

She put a little distance between their bodies, her hands coming up to frame his face, “I love you, Killian,” she said, then kissed him with abandon. He would have happily continued kissing her, but she interrupted it to pull her blouse over her head.

His breath stuttered as his eyes raked down her form, taking in the smooth expanse of skin from her throat to her chest. His hands instinctively moved up her arms to her shoulders, where they encountered the straps to her blush pink bra. Lifting his eyes briefly to seek her permission, he saw her pupils were large and dark with desire.

She gave him a slight nod and his eyes dropped again, finding a scar just above her left breast. He traced it lightly, asking, “How did you get this?”

“Burned it with hot grease when I was a teenager.”

He bent to kiss the spot tenderly, as his hands made their way around to her back. After unhooking her bra, he pulled the straps down, exposing her breasts to his sight. The garment joined their shirts on the floor, but neither of them noticed. Killian’s mouth and hands were busy licking and fondling, while Emma’s head was thrown back, moans of pleasure escaping her.

“So beautiful,” he murmured between kisses. “So bloody perfect.” Sucking a nipple into his mouth, his right hand sneaked down to her ass and gave it a squeeze. “Killian,” she gasped, her nails scratching across his back.

“Hmm?” he hummed, too busy sucking small marks around her areolas to be bothered.

Now it was her turn to squeeze his ass, and pull him against her, needing friction against her throbbing clit. As she stepped backwards, she lost her balance when the back of her legs encountered the bed. She landed on it and, unable to stop himself, he fell on top of her.

“Sorry,” he apologized, immediately rolling off of her.

She sat up and used the opportunity to start working on his belt buckle. He stopped her and she huffed in frustration.

“I’ll get mine, you get yours,” he said, making quick work of the belt and starting to remove his jeans.

She stood up and undid the button and zipper of her pants, pushing them down her legs, along with her panties. When she tried to step out of them, she realized she was still wearing her heels. As she kicked them off, one of them flew across the room, hitting the wall beside her dresser. “Oops,” she muttered, and Killian chuckled.

As she struggled to free her feet from the muddle of her clothes, he succeeded in removing the rest of his. Emma was in front of him, the perfect globes of her ass on full display. His large hands caressed them as he leaned forward, lightly biting her right cheek. She let out a surprised yelp as he licked the spot, then kissed it.

“D-do that again,” she said.

Killian obliged, moving to her left buttock. This time, she groaned and thrust her backside toward him. Realizing this was a turn-on for her, he continued nipping, licking, sucking and kissing her soft flesh, inhaling the scent of her growing arousal.

After lavishing attention on her ass for many long, titillating moments, he dipped his fingers between her legs. Finding her slick already, he slid his digits through her folds. She widened her stance, giving him more freedom to explore. He took the opportunity to find her bundle of nerves, rubbing small circles over it.

“Killiannnn,” she moaned, her hands moving to her breasts, squeezing and pinching her nipples.

The thought of her fondling herself, combined with the heady scent coming from her cunt, had him rock hard in an instant. Spreading her folds apart with the fingers of one hand, he slipped his other index finger into her opening.

“Oh, fuck!” she exclaimed, her legs beginning to shake. Killian removed his fingers then tugged her down onto his lap, his erection sliding through her folds as he did, making them both groan.

Emma reached down to wrap her hand around his cock, lifting herself slightly to rub the head of it against her clit.

“Emma,” he gasped, wrapping his arms around her and licking a long stripe up her spine.

She continued pleasuring herself, her movements becoming jerky and her breath coming out in short pants. Killian’s hands found her breasts and squeezed them hard, which was enough to push her over the edge. She cried out his name, throwing her head back in ecstasy.

His arms wrapped around her and he rolled them into the middle of the bed, her body still shaking from her orgasm.

“Need you…inside me…now,” she pleaded. “Please, Killian!”

He pushed himself up on his forearms, looking down on her flushed, wanton body beneath him. Cradled between her thighs, he lined himself up, but first leaned down to kiss her. “I love you, Emma,” he said, then began pushing into her depths.

She was so highly aroused, he met no resistance and was soon fully seated within her still-throbbing walls. “Gods, Emma,” he groaned. “You feel so bloody fucking good.”

“So…do you.” Planting her hands firmly on his backside, she panted, “Move, Killian. Please move.”

“As…you…wish…” he responded, slowly pulling out and pushing back in on every word.

Her legs wrapped around his hips, encouraging him to keep going. Soon, they found a very pleasurable rhythm together, their movements accompanied by the sounds of sex - groans, pleas, gasps, and the wet slapping of skin against skin.

When he could feel himself getting close, he pulled almost completely out, then thrust all the way back in, the force of it rattling the headboard.

“Yes!” Emma cried out. “Yes, Killian!”

Spurred on by her shouts, he continued his actions until he could feel her core tightening around him. Her arms and legs pulled him against her tightly and she bucked up into him, chasing her peak once again.

When she reached it, her mouth opened in a silent scream, her nails raking up and down his back. The rippling of her spasming walls triggered his own release and his body jerked with its intensity.

Collapsing on top of her, he fought to catch his breath. “That was…”

“I know,” she panted.

*****

He started to move, but she wrapped her arms around him to keep him close. Nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck, he licked at the salty sweat he found there. She sighed and he could hear the contentment it contained.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“Mmm, love you, too.”

They lay quietly for several minutes, simply enjoying the way their bodies fit together. Finally, Emma broke the silence.

“You’re screwed, you know. In more ways than one.”

He laughed. “What do you mean, Love?”

“Well, it’s gonna be very difficult for you to top this date. It’s all downhill from here.”

He pushed up to his elbows to look down at her grinning face. “Is that so?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Maybe next time I’ll give you three orgasms. That would be better, yeah?”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh, I’ll be able to keep it, my love. Just wait and see.”

Her fingers moved to sift through his hair. “I look forward to it.”

*********

They awoke slowly the next morning, both tired from their pleasurable activities, which they repeated in the middle of the night. “G’morning,” Emma yawned, pressing her naked body against him.

“Good morning, Love,” Killian replied, his body reacting to her closeness. He dipped his head and began leaving small kisses behind her ear.

“Wh-what time is it?” she asked, tilting her head so he had more access.

“Does it matter?”

“Yeah, because I…fuck, that feels good.”

His chuckle rumbled in her ear. “You what?”

“I’m meeting Ruby for lunch at eleven.”

He reached over her to grab his phone off the nightstand. “It’s nine forty-five.”

“Shit. I better get in the shower. She’ll kick my ass if I’m late.”

“This ass?” he asked, his hands moving to squeeze it.

“You’re not helping,” she reprimanded, but was unable to keep a straight face.

“How about if I help you take a shower?” he asked, his eyebrows doing that flirtatious thing she loved. “You won’t turn that offer down a second time, will you?”

She threw back the covers and sat on the edge of the mattress, running her hands through her sex-mussed hair. He scooted closer to press kisses to the base of her spine. When she stood up, he could see the love bites he left on her the night before. It gave him an odd thrill of satisfaction, knowing he marked her as his.

“You didn’t give me an answer,” he reminded her.

Emma walked through the doorway as if she hadn’t heard him, then leaned back in and purred, “I didn’t say no.”

He was out of bed in record time.

*********

Killian entered his apartment with a dreamy smile on his face. Saying goodbye to Emma hadn’t been easy, especially after their highly enjoyable time together in the shower. Before leaving, she invited him to come over after she got home from work that evening. That left him with several hours to finish adding narration to the YouTube episode. After doing that and viewing it critically one more time, it would be ready to post the next day.

He had been working in his office for twenty minutes when he felt a familiar sensation. Turning his chair around, he saw Liam’s spirit hovering in the doorway. “Hello, little brother.”

Killian was so relieved to see him, he didn’t even object to the moniker. “Where have you been? I don’t think you ever went this long between visits before.”

“You seem to be away from your apartment a lot these days.”

“Aye, well,” Killian said, scratching behind his ear. “I was helping Emma. We were finally able to make Neal’s ghost move on.”

“How did you manage to do that?”

“I took your advice and used true love’s kiss.”

“Ah, that’s good to hear. Did he go to Heaven or…?”

“No. He was dragged away by Hell beasts.”

“It’s eternal damnation for him then, poor bastard, and eternity is an awfully long time.”

“Yes it is, but he made his choices. Now he has to pay the price,” Killian said. “But I don’t want to talk about him anymore, Liam. It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too. You look…different. Happier. Wait a minute, did you say you used true love’s kiss? Does that mean what I think it means?”

“It does. Even before we admitted our feelings of love to each other, the kiss worked.”

“She loves you, too,” Liam said matter-of-factly.

“She does. We went on our first date last night.”

“How did it go?”

Killian could feel the heat creeping into his face and knew the tips of his ears were probably bright red. “We had a great time! Afterwards, she, uh, she asked me to spend the night with her.”

Liam’s reaction wasn’t what Killian expected. He thought his brother would tease and embarass him. Instead, Liam gave him a slight smile that seemed a bit sad. “You’re finally with the woman you love,” he said simply.

Killian stood up and moved toward his brother’s apparition. He knew Liam wasn’t corporeal so he wouldn’t be able to touch him, but at that moment, he couldn’t bear to have any distance between them.

“I’m sorry, Liam.”

“Sorry for what, Killy?”

“For wanting to hang onto you. You could have been at rest years ago, if not for me.”

Even as translucent as he was, Killian could see Liam’s eyes soften. “If I wanted to move on, I would have, but I wanted to be with you as much as you wanted me to stay. I wouldn’t have been at peace knowing that I was leaving you alone. I love you, little brother.”

“I love you, too,” Killian said, tears filling his eyes. “Thank you for being here for me all my life. I hope I’ll make you proud.”

“I have no doubt you will. You always have,” Liam said, his voice beginning to fade rapidly. “Live a long life with Emma and be happy, Killian. Mum and I will be waiting for you on the other side. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Liam. Rest in peace.”

Liam raised his hand in a final greeting, giving Killian one last smile. Then his apparition drifted upward until it disappeared through the ceiling.

Killian stood staring at the spot for a long time, tears trickling down his cheeks. In the last week, he had watched two spirits move on, headed to very different destinations. He was beyond grateful that Liam would be in a place of golden light and eternal joy.

*********

When Killian entered Emma’s apartment that evening, she took one look at him and said, “Liam moved on, didn’t he?”

His head dropped. “Aye. He came to tell me goodbye this afternoon.”

She immediately wrapped her arms around him, rubbing soothing circles on his back with one hand, while the other softly sifted through his hair.

They didn’t make love that night. Emma realized he needed her more emotionally than physically, so they went to bed and she held him in her arms, comforting him until they both fell asleep. Although she hated how much he was hurting, she was pleased to have a chance to reciprocate all the support and help he provided while she was being haunted.

The next evening, they watched the episode he had posted on YouTube that day. Emma was amazed at the professionalism, and appreciative of how careful they were to conceal her identity. He skirted the issue of being able to enter her dreams by saying the subject had ‘an intensely emotional reaction’ that broke her out of her trance-like state.

The couple spent nearly every available minute of the next two weeks in each other’s company, but eventually, real life intervened in their happy little bubble. Killian and Will spent a week in Montgomery, Alabama, investigating a symphony hall that was reportedly being haunted by a sad flutist who wished to be reunited with the trumpet player she loved.

Both men facetimed their ladies for hours each night they were gone, unashamed to admit how much they missed the woman they loved.

When they returned, Emma peppered Killian with questions about the investigation. “Did you get any answers using the flux response device? What was the highest spike you got on the EMF meter and infrared thermometer? Were there any unexplained light anomalies? What did you collect on the digital voice recorder?”

“Hold on,” he laughed, looping his arms around her waist to tug her against him. “I thought you weren’t interested in all the paranormal stuff. Since when do you know all of the technical terms and the correct names of the instruments?”

“Since I started watching my ghost hunter boyfriend’s YouTube channel.”

“You did?”

“Well, I missed you like crazy and watching it made me feel closer to you. Seeing you do your thing was a real turn-on for me,” she grinned slyly.

“It was, huh?” he asked, nuzzling into her neck. “Tell me, Love - what else turns you on?”

“What you’re doing right now,” she gasped, as he nibbled on her earlobe.

“How about this?” he asked, squeezing her ass.

“You know how much I love that.”

He did indeed know. During their many lovemaking sessions, he discovered that she adored having him pay special attention to her backside. Nipping, licking and sucking marks into it during foreplay never failed to make her writhe and moan.

“Do you know what’s a turn-on for me?” he breathed into her ear.

“Hmm?”

“You using terms like ‘EMF meter’ and ‘digital voice recorder’.”

“Oh, really? What about infrared thermometer?” She leaned back to look into his lust-filled eyes. “Or flux…” She licked a stripe up one side of his neck. “Response…” A lick up the other side. “Device.” She pushed the collar of his shirt aside and sucked a mark under his collarbone.

He growled and hoisted her up into his arms. She giggled and wrapped her legs around him, continuing to find skin to suck and lick as he carried her to the bedroom. Dropping her onto the bed, he hovered over her, smiling down at her gorgeous, beaming face.

“I missed you, Swan,” he said tenderly, then bent to kiss her, trying to pour all of his longing and love into it.

*****

Despite being apart for over a week, they took their time reaquainting themselves with each other’s body. Killian slid Emma’s shirt up, kissing every inch of skin revealed. After he tossed it on the floor, he sucked on each of her nipples through the lacy fabric of her bra. She reached around to unhook it, slipping it off so he could lavish attention on her breasts. While he did that, she unbuttoned his shirt, her fingers uncoordinated in their eagerness.

Once his shirt was yanked free, she undid his belt buckle and slid it out of the loops. His attention was still on her breasts when she managed to work her hand inside his jeans to grasp his cock. He hissed in surprise and pleasure, quickly reaching down to undo the button and zipper to give her easier access.

His eyes closed and his head fell back as she squeezed and stroked, bringing him to full erection. “Emma,” he moaned.

She pushed him back slightly and sat up, shoving his jeans and underwear over his hips. Then her mouth was taking him in, her hands grasping his ass to give her leverage. His hands moved to her hair, lightly pressing on her head to encourage her endeavors.

The sounds she was making as she swirled her tongue over the head, licked up the shaft and sucked him into her mouth had him nearly coming on the spot. When she took him in deeper and swallowed around him, he gently but firmly pulled her off. “Please stop, Love.”

“You don’t like it?” she asked, looking up at him through her lashes.

“It feels incredible, but if you keep going, I’m not going to last, and I want to be inside you when I come.”

She smiled, kissed his tip, then helped him finish removing his clothes.

“My turn,” he said. “Lie back, Love.”

She eagerly did as she was told, her feet still on the floor. He slid her yoga pants and panties off, then knelt on the floor, pushing her knees apart and settling between them. Kissing up the inside of her thighs, he moved slowly toward her heat. The scent of her arousal enveloped him and he inhaled deeply. Her legs trembled around him as he spread her open and dragged his tongue through her folds.

“So bloody intoxicating,” he praised. He licked another stripe, then began rapidly flicking his tongue over her clit, while his fingers pressed inside her. She bucked and moaned, her fingers tangling into his hair, tugging at it.

Two fingers, then three thrust in and out of her, staying away from the spot that made her see stars. His eyes scanned up her body to see her fondling her own breasts, then further up to see the intense pleasure in her features. With his next thrust, he hit that spot and she screamed, a gush of arousal coating his fingers as they continued to stroke her through her orgasm.

He withdrew his fingers and lay down beside her, waiting for her to open her eyes. As she did, he held his fingers to her lips. “Taste yourself, Love. See how delicious you are.”

With her eyes fixed on his, she tentatively licked his finger, then sucked all three digits into her mouth. When they were clean, he pulled them free and kissed her, tasting her essence on her tongue.

“Fuck, that was hot,” she breathed.

“Mmhmm. Love tasting you like that.”

They moved to the center of the bed with Emma on top, straddling his hips. She began sliding her slick cunt up and down his shaft, his hands on her ass controlling her movements. Every once in a while, he would pinch or lightly slap her cheeks, causing her to throw her head back in pleasure.

When he felt like he would burst if he didn’t get inside her soon, he murmured, “Ready, Love?”

In answer, she lifted up then took him in, sliding down until he completely filled her. Placing her hands on his chest, she leaned back, closing her eyes and moaning, “Fuuuck.”

KIllian bit his lip, wanting to take her hard and fast, but also wanting to draw out the pleasure. “Ride me, Emma,” he pleaded.

She began sliding up and down, pulling almost completely off of him, then sinking back down. He drew his knees up behind her and started thrusting up into her, gripping her hips tightly. Soon, she was coming hard around him, shouting out her pleasure.

Before she had a chance to come down from her high, he flipped their positions. Placing her legs over his shoulders, he pumped into her frantically, the bed rocking with every thrust. Her cries of ecstasy mingled with his grunts and words of encouragement, and they quickly reached their climax simultaneously.

He rolled them again, pulling her boneless, sated body over his own. Breaths labored, hearts racing, they lay molded together until finally coming back to their senses.

*****

Emma raised her head and looked into his face, a lazy smile on her lips. “Welcome home.”

He reached up to tuck some wayward strands of hair behind her ear. “If that’s the welcome I get after being gone a few days, maybe I should go away more often.”

“Don’t you dare,” she warned. “I miss you too much when you’re gone.”

“Aye, Love. I miss you, too. I’ll just have to figure out a way to take you with me. Do you think you would fit in my suitcase?”

She giggled. “Only if it’s your carry-on so I get to stay with you.”

“I’ll see if that can be arranged. If so, I’m sure Belle will be tucked into Will’s.”

“Well, at least I would have company while you two are off doing your ghost hunting thing.”

Killian chuckled. “Now that you know so much about it, you could join us.”

He expected her to laugh, but instead, she pushed up to look at him, a serious look on her face. “While I was watching your episodes, I started thinking about something. Remember how I told you I would like to be a counselor for foster kids who are about to age out of the system?” At his nod of affirmation, she continued, “Well, a lot of the people you help really struggle with how to handle being haunted. I wonder if it would help for me to talk to them, since I’ve been through the same thing myself? I mean, I know Liam’s ghost was with you for a long time, but he wasn’t threatening like a lot of the spirits haunting those people. Neal was, so I know how it feels.”

“I think that’s a brilliant idea, Swan! You’re right - many of our clients really struggle with how to handle what’s going on and how to tell people about it. Having someone like you to talk to would be very helpful. Would you be able to take time away from your job though?”

“I have plenty of vacation time saved,” she explained. After a moment, she added, “I’ve been thinking seriously about looking into those counseling courses. If I decide to sign up for them, between those and work, I wouldn’t have much time to spend with you.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Neither do I,” she laughed. “That’s another reason I’d like to travel with you.”

“I would be more than happy to have you along as often as possible.”

She leaned in to kiss him. “What do you know? I’m actually optimistic about the way my life is going right now. And I have you to thank for it.”

“I’m glad I’ve been able to help, but I’m not responsible for all of it. You’re a strong, smart, absolutely brilliant woman, Emma Swan, and you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“Maybe not, but that’s why I have you around - to remind me once in a while.”

He tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow. “Is that the only reason you keep me around?”

“Well,” she teased, wiggling her body to shift his softened length within her, “maybe not the only reason!”

*********

ONE YEAR LATER

“I thought we were gonna have to leave without ya,” Will said playfully, as he, Killian and Emma sat back in their Uber on the way to the airport. “Thought that family was goin’ to adopt ya!”

“Aye, they really did love you, Swan,” Killian threw in. “I don’t blame them. The way you helped their daughter overcome her fears was bloody brilliant.”

“I just used my own experience. It was very similar to hers, after all,” Emma said, sliding down to rest her head on the back of the seat. “It was pretty draining, though, remembering all the shit Neal put me through.”

Killian reached over to take her hand, intertwining their fingers. “I know it was difficult, but you moved past it and so will she.”

Emma had joined them on their ghost hunting trips half a dozen times since first proposing the idea to Killian. All of the people with whom she shared her experience appreciated her input and advice.

She was in the midst of finishing her second semester of online counseling courses while continuing to work at the hotel. Killian gave up his lease when it came due three months ago and moved in with her. Now they were roommates instead of neighbors and couldn’t be happier about it.

Belle and Will were also living together. She joined them on their trips from time to time, usually staying at the hotel to edit while they were on site.

The flight home from Tucson seemed to take forever. When they finally reached their apartment, it was after one-thirty in the morning and all they wanted to do was collapse into bed.

The next morning, Emma awoke and realized she was alone, which was very unusual. Even when Killian woke up before she did, he stayed in bed with her.

Groaning, she pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the bed and noticed a note on the nightstand. Unfolding it, she read: Emma, I had some errands to run. I made coffee and those cinnamon rolls from a can you love so much. Have some breakfast, take a shower and relax. I’ll be home in a couple of hours. I love you.

She sighed. As much as she craved a shower and cinnamon rolls, she craved her lover even more. Waking up without him was not getting her day off to a good start.

Over two hours later, she was sitting on the couch, her stomach full, her body and hair clean, dressed in her most comfortable clothes, but still missing Killian. She sent him a couple of texts which he answered with one or two words, making her wonder even more about what was important enough to take him away from her for so long. She heard him and Will discussing how they were going to take two days off before going over what they collected from their trip, so she knew he probably wasn’t at the office they now rented.

She was just getting ready to send him another text when she finally heard his key in the door. She stood up and started moving towards it, questions on the tip of her tongue, when a large bouquet of red roses was thrust through the opening.

“Killian, what…”

“Good morning, Love,” he said, entering the apartment, closing the door and handing her the roses.

“These are beautiful, but it’s afternoon.” She took the bouquet, noticing his other hand was still behind his back. “Where have you been? Besides the flower shop, obviously.”

“Didn’t you get my note? I had errands to run.”

“Yes, I know, but…”

“I’m sorry I was gone longer than expected, but it took a while for me to find exactly what I wanted.”

“What were you looking for?”

He dropped to one knee and pulled his hand out from behind his back. “The perfect ring for the perfect woman.”

Emma gasped and her legs nearly gave out as she saw him open the black velvet jeweler’s box, revealing the most beautiful and exquisite diamond solitaire engagement ring.

“Emma, I truly believe I fell in love with you the moment I met you, but I had to be patient until the time was right. I never dreamed that my ability to sense paranormal activity would lead to me winning your heart. I will be forever grateful that it did. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you more and more with each passing day. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Emma slowly set the roses on the coffee table, then stared at him with wide eyes for several seconds. He began to fidget when she didn’t answer him right away. When she finally spoke, she could see her words surprised him. “You…you know your flux thingy?”

He frowned. “You mean the flux response device?”

“Yeah.”

“What about it?” he asked, his hand holding the ring starting to drop a bit.

She knelt down in front of him at eye level. “Well, if you had it turned on when you asked that question, the light would be green right now.”

He let out a relieved laugh, removed the ring from the box and slipped it onto her trembling finger. Then she moved into his waiting arms, murmuring, “I love you so much, Killian.”

“I love you, too, Emma. For all eternity.”

*********

Thank you so much for coming along on this supernatural ride! Please be sure to check out all the stories and art work for this final CSSNS event!

Tagging:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4

@hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper

@lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic

@eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling

@andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica

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@beckettj @cssns @killihan-jones

#cssns24 #ghosted #complete story #jrob64 #art by krystal #manips by kit #captain swan supernatural summer #csff #paranormal investigators #youtube #cs modern au #neighbors to lovers #cs smut

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kmomof4 · 2 years ago

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It’s that time of year again y’all!!!!

Who all wants to see the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer continue this year???!!! We’ve had five FANTASTIC years, and if there’s still enough interest in participating, I’ll pick the reins back up and we’ll be off to the races!!!

This post is a request for participants only, either with fic or art, or both. Of course readers and cheerleaders are very important to any event, but we need to gauge interest on participation to determine if the event is feasible. So please, SPREAD THE WORD!!!

If you are interested in participating, comment on the post, message me (kmomof4) personally here or on discord. The number of responses I get will determine whether the event happens this summer. I’ll make a final decision on Feb. 12.

Thanks y’all!

#cssns23?#gauging interest #captain swan supernatural summer #spread the word #decision coming Feb 12

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spartanguard · 1 year ago

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sons of love and death, 8/13 {CSSNS 23}

Summary: After the Final Battle, Killian Jones had finally settled into his happily ever after with his wife and family. Until a new foe arrived in Storybrooke: the infamous Dorian Gray, who looks rather familiar—one might say identical—to the pirate, and he’s on a mission: to claim the powers of the Dark One for himself. There’s only one problem: the Dark One no longer exists. What follows is a journey of vengeance, revelations, magic, and finally facing down the darkness within himself that Killian thought he’d finally put to rest. [roughly canon divergent from 5B, though set post-canon] A/N: So here's the chapter of this @cssns story where things finally earn the M rating ;) (Also—not just because of that—this might be my favorite chapter of the whole thing.) Hope you enjoy it! (As always, thanks to the best beta, @optomisticgirl !) rated M | 5.7k words | AO3 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Killian took a pull from his flask as he stared out at the horizon. The sun had just set, its orange hue still painting the edge of the sky where it met the ocean, but stars were starting to twinkle in the inky blue overhead. The sight was normally soothing, but it wasn’t quite doing the trick tonight.

He should probably just go home; brooding on his ship was not going to give him anywhere near as much respite as Emma’s embrace would, but after the day he’d had, he also sorely needed a moment (or a few) alone to try to quell the internal tempest that was currently raging.

He was also desperate for Emma’s light, but knew he had to find his own first. (And not just the blue glow he could see pulsing in the vein at his wrist.)

That day saw him at yet another magic lesson. He’d slowly been getting better at harnessing his powers, but maintaining focus was still a challenge. Today was especially difficult as not only had they met in the woods—in an effort to teach him to channel his powers away from the call of the sea—but he’d already been distracted before he met Regina. His thoughts still lingered on the number of townsfolk giving him the cold shoulder; while he knew it was because of Dorian’s actions and not his own, it was still disheartening that his neighbors would be so quick to assume the worst in him, after his consistent work to the contrary.

Despite the progress he’d been making, he gave into those feelings of hurt and anger while harnessing his magic. It had resulted in some powerful moments, albeit uncontrolled—though he at least had enough magical acumen now to clean up the mess he’d made in the clearing in the forest.

Towards the end of the lesson, Regina huffed with her arms crossed and gave him a curious look. “What?” he snapped, taking deep breaths as he tried to calm the shaking in his limbs.

She pursed her lips. “It’s a good thing Emma isn’t here, is all.”

Before they were supposed to meet, Emma had to run off to tend to a break in at Any Given Sundae—Dorian again—so he’d originally attributed his inability to focus on the lack of her presence (though he knew he’d have to stop using her as an emotional crutch at some point). “And why is that?”

Regina strode closer. “I’m the last person to talk when it comes to warning you against feeding your magic with anger; we both know where that goes. But we also both know it’s easier that way.” Then she smirked. “And I know that it feels good.”

He swallowed; he wanted to refute that statement but…he couldn’t. Those angry outbursts—and the accompanying bursts of magic—tingled through his veins in a way that felt oddly euphoric. He was coming to enjoy the sensation of magic flowing through him, but he only felt it strongly when he let his darker emotions take charge. It still felt better than when the Darkness was coursing through him—more natural—but he was starting to worry that it might feel too good. And he was no stranger to addiction.

“So what do I do?” he asked, in a smaller voice than he intended. (Regina was not someone he’d ever thought he’d be vulnerable in front of.)

She shrugged. “You know I can’t answer that for you. But if there’s anyone I know who can figure it out, it’s you.”

Regina was far more confident in his abilities than he was—and it showed in his next failed attempt (or successful, depending on how one looked at it: his anger overtook him once more, and a nearby rock split in half).

She tutted as she put it back together with a(n annoyingly) casual wave of her hand. “You literally turned your back on the Darkness; this should be easy. How did you do that?”

After catching his breath, he said, “Well, Emma was quite literally having the life choked out of her; I’d rather not reenact that.”

Regina shook her head. “Both of you are so literal. It wasn’t the act; it was the emotion. For someone who wears their heart on their leather sleeve, you’re being awfully dense.” She took a deep breath. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but channel your love for Emma, or something.”

He smirked at her discomfort.

“Look, that’s the best you’re gonna get from me; you’ve gotta talk to your mother-in-law for all the lovey-dovey crap.”

It got a little better after that—but only his control; there was nothing so powerful as when he reacted instinctively and frustratedly. Regina seemed content enough at the end of their scheduled lesson, as the sun started to cast long shadows, but despite her uncharacteristically encouraging farewell, he still felt off-kilter.

Which brought him here, drinking on his ship, hunched over the railing, in what was proving to be a vain attempt to settle his soul. (Though he realistically should have known that would be no easy feat; it was well-documented that his soul was quite troubled.)

One terrible thought kept plaguing him, especially as he felt the magic in his blood sing in reaction to his proximity to the water: if his love for Emma wasn’t as strong as the anger at his core, then what did that say about him? There was no doubting the immensity of his feelings for her—True Love and all that—but, despite everything they’d been through in the last couple years, had he not yet risen above the depths of his own depravity enough to outweigh it?

And if so, would he ever?

Perhaps he and Dorian were still more similar than he’d like to admit.

“Drinking alone?” Speak of the devil. Killian stiffened at the noise, though; he still wasn’t used to the sound of his own voice coming from someone else. “Doesn’t seem very heroic.”

“What would you know about that, anyway?” he tossed over his shoulder at Dorian. Footsteps sounded as the other man apparently descended on the deck.

“Oh, nothing; just figured you’d be off with your lovely wife and all your friends, getting high on your own innate goodness.”

Killian turned around—only to find he was well and truly looking in a mirror; As he’d suspected, Dorian was wearing his clothes, his hook, and even more of his face than usual. “Bugger off,” was the only quip he could produce.

“What, trouble in paradise?” Dorian went on. “Color me surprised.” His smirk said the opposite.

“Sure you are,” Killian answered dryly. “And where does this little rendezvous fit into your futile plan? Come to see how well you’re ruining my life?” He was being a bit of what Henry called “emo,” but he figured it was deserved.

“Why must everything be part of some grandiose plan?” Dorian tossed back casually. “Everyone’s been telling me I should take a lesson from you; what if that’s what I was doing?”

“I’d say you need to study better,” he lectured.

“Ah, I was never much of a book learner. Too flammable.” As if to emphasize it, a burst of flame licked over him from head to toe as he dropped the glamour he’d been using.

“At least that’s one thing we don’t have in common.”

“Definitely more than that,” Dorian continued, either oblivious to or willfully ignoring Killian’s less-than-chipper mood. “You’ve got terrible taste in liquor, too; could barely drink half the rum I stole.”

“Poor you.”

From nowhere, a cigarette appeared in Dorian’s fingers; as he approached Killian, he snapped the fingers of his opposite hand and a flame danced at his fingertips that he used to light it, then shook the fire away as he took a drag.

“No smoking on my ship,” Killian warned, then doused the roll with a quickly summoned bit of seawater.

Dorian pouted, but then tossed the wasted cigarette overboard before leaning backwards against the railing next to him. “I have a feeling we could swap stories on where to find the best booze in all the realms; have you ever been to—”

“Not interested,” he interrupted, and corked his flask to hopefully put an end to that conversation.

“Suit yourself. But perhaps you can tell me: last time you were in Agrabah, how were the brothels? It’s been so long—”

Killian stepped to the side to face him. “Why don’t you go there and find out for yourself—and leave me the hell alone?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Dorian’s smirk was both audible and familiar—far too similar to Killian’s own, right down to the dimple that Emma had often told him was adorable, but just seemed insincere on the other man’s face.

(Though…he couldn’t deny he’d used it in the past to lull others into a false sense of security.)

He turned away and crossed the deck, no longer wanting to look at his counterpart. He imagined this was similar to what Belle once saw looking into the Ice Queen’s mirror: a twisted vision of one’s most intrusive thoughts brought to life.

“Do you really expect me to believe that Captain Hook, of all people, enjoys life in this…hamlet?” Dorian went on. “It’s just so…boring.”

Killian scoffed. “I had two hundred years of exciting; I’m fine with a bit of boring.”

“Please; you’re a wanderer. For all our differences, I know that’s the same.”

“It’s not; not anymore.”

“I think you’ve just forgotten,” his twin hypothesized, and he could hear and feel his steps getting closer. “Come on, man—let’s take this thing out and set sail. Do some pirating in the Caribbean, eh? Head back to our home realm and visit Pleasure Island. Or we could go to Agrabah, like you said; check out those whorehouses ourselves. Bet things are getting pretty dull with the missus, eh?”

It was like a spark ignited in Killian at the mention of Emma—how bloody dare he assume that? (Especially when it couldn’t be further from the truth.) He didn’t even think; he just dropped his flask, whipped around, pulled his right arm back, and unleashed an instinctive punch right on the side of Dorian’s nose.

He staggered back, bringing his hand to his face; his fingers came back bloody. The other man sniffled, but it did nothing to stop the sluggish flow from his nostril.

He glared at it for a moment, but then laughed. “Oh, it’s definitely still in you, Hook,” he snarled, glancing up with a wicked grin. “It never leaves.”

“What is?” Killian demanded.

Dorian jumped into his personal space. “The darkness,” he hissed. “Admit it: part of you is fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.”

Killian shoved him away. “Fuck. Off,” he bit out, but he knew he was talking to his own doubts and worries just as much as he was to Dorian.

“You can’t deny it,” Dorian told him cockily. “It’s always going to be a part of you. Each of us has heaven and hell in him.”

If Killian had been thinking straight, he’d have remembered Dorian was talking about that shred of the Dark One deep within; but with the way his day had gone, all he heard was that he hadn’t truly changed—not enough.

“You know I’m right. I can fucking feel it.”

Killian glanced down and saw a tempest forming in his palm; he wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or the waning light, but he swore he saw hints of black within, much like when he was the Dark One.

“Tell me, brother: how much blood has that hook spilled?” he prodded.

“Apparently not enough,” Killian spat back, grabbing Dorian’s lapel with his hand pressing the tip of his hook to the other man’s jugular; he could hear the metal scraping against his stubble.

“Do it. I fucking dare you. See what everyone thinks when you’ve murdered me in cold blood.”

“If only that would work. But I get the impression you’d find a way to weasel yourself out of death.”

“Something we’ve both done.”

“No.” Again, he pushed Dorian away, rejecting such selfish similarities. He wasn’t that man anymore—right?

“You can try to deny it, but the facts speak for themselves.”

Killian blinked back tears of frustration. No—he’d come too far from the man he once was—had done so much to make amends—and yet—and yet—

It wasn’t enough. No matter what he did, he’d always be Hook first to everyone.

He glanced down at his namesake appendage. It glinted in the waning light, almost taunting him.

With a dejected cry, he twisted the tool out of its socket, yanked it from its brace, and threw it with all his force at the deck; the point stuck in the wood.

“That doesn’t change anything and you know it,” Dorian taunted, lighting another cigarette.

He was right; it didn’t. But what would anymore?

Rain started to fall on them despite it being a clear evening; the way it sparked against his skin told him it was his own magic overreacting to his emotional turmoil. Oddly, though, it just sizzled against Dorian as he stared on, unfazed; it didn’t even touch the ember at the end of his cigarette.

Killian’s heart was racing and it felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack; he hadn’t had one of those in over a century. His vision blurred and it got hard to breathe, and he could feel his magic racing through his veins. He needed—he needed—he needed Emma.

The next thing he knew he was standing in their bedroom at home, sopping wet, and the room was beginning to spin.

He fell to his knees on the rug beside the bed as stars began to swim in his vision; he could still see effulgent blue in the veins of his hand, but faded from where it was a moment ago.

“Killian?” Emma was on the floor in front of him, worry furrowing her brow. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I—” he gasped, but had no idea what to say.

A sudden rush of fatigue took hold, anyway; his eyes refused to stay open any longer, and he was aware of his arm buckling underneath him as he fell forward.

The last thing he heard was Emma frantically calling his name before darkness took over.

Good. That was what he deserved.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・🗡・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Emma was trying to process…whatever the hell was going on. Why had her husband just appeared out of nowhere in their room, soaking wet, and promptly passed out in her lap?

Regina had texted earlier, letting her know that his lesson had been a little rough, so she knew to at least expect him in a stormy mood. But not to look like he’d been caught in an actual tempest.

His hook was missing, and she could see light fading in the veins at his neck as his magic receded; she still had to ask Regina or Gold why his powers did that. But he didn’t appear to have any other injuries; he’d probably just used too much magic at once and overexerted himself. (She’d definitely done that a few times.)

His brow twitched when she pushed the hair out of his eyes, but he didn’t move otherwise. She knew she should let him rest, but if something was wrong, she needed to know.

But first, she dried him off with a wave of her hand; the subsequent sparking that appeared all along his body in reaction to her magic told her that whatever downpour he’d been caught in was one of his own creation. (That and the fact that she hadn’t seen a cloud all day.)

She’d hoped to rouse him in a more gentle way, but his eyes flew open at the shocks; that was probably hard to sleep through, even if he’d been completely unconscious a moment ago.

“Hey; you okay?” she asked as his eyes darted around from where he was still laying on her thighs, until they finally settled on hers. The normal clear and bright blue was edging on a turbulent grey—a good tell of where he was mentally.

He suddenly jolted upright and then scurried away from her; not far, but enough that there was some distance between them, and he was facing away from her.

He was sitting with his legs bent up, arms resting on his knees, and was staring at his hand, turning it over to look at both front and back—and it was shaking.

“Killian?” she asked quietly. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” he said on a breath.

Knowing him, that was probably hyperbole, but it was clear he wasn’t in a good place, mentally or emotionally. Normally, she’d check to see if he needed space, but he’d already had that tonight and he’d come home (or, at least, his magic had brought him here) for a reason.

Slowly, she got up and moved over to him. He didn’t notice her barefoot steps on their plush rug, so she whispered “hey” when she got close, before she gently took his hand in hers.

He tried to pull his hand away but she held on tight. Then he glanced up at her, eyes watery, but still apparently speechless.

“What happened?” she asked as she knelt in front of him. “Talk to me.”

“How can you even touch me, love?” he replied. “After everything I’ve done?”

She made a mental note to call Archie as she wiped a tear from his cheek; he’d come a long way from where he used to be in regards to self-loathing, but still regularly wrestled with his guilt. “Because I love you, that’s why. Pretty sure that’s well-established, certified by the gods and all.” She pressed a kiss to the back of his unsteady hand. “And you’ve come so far from where you used to be; you’re not that man anymore, I promise you.”

“I had thought so, too, but I’m not so sure anymore.”

It didn’t take any further prodding for him to tell her what had happened that day—his growing frustration with the way the town was giving him the cold shoulder thanks to Dorian’s shenanigans; how that affected his lesson with Regina and their subsequent conversations; and then the confrontation he’d just had with Dorian on his ship, including their physical altercation and his rejection of his hook (which answered that question). He held onto her hand like an anchor through the whole thing; she just listened and gradually lowered herself until she was sitting next to him.

“What if I haven’t done enough?” he finally asked her, voice thick. “He’s right—I will always be fighting against my baser instincts. It’s constantly there, simmering beneath the surface. It’s easy enough to ignore when we’re just going about our daily lives, but when tensions rise—when things get unstable—I don’t know that I’ll make the right decisions. And, Swan,” he continued, “I know I love you more than life itself; why isn’t that enough for me to overcome it?”

Well, shit; that was pretty heavy. But they’d both gotten used to helping ease each other’s burdens.

She pulled his hand into her chest and turned on her rear to face him. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but yeah, you are always going to be fighting against it. You were in the dark for a long time; that’s always going to be a part of you.” He visibly swallowed at that, and she perhaps slightly regretted that choice of words when it came to, y’know, the actual piece of the Darkness that was supposedly inside of them somewhere. Anyways. “It won’t be easy—just ask Regina; she’ll probably tell you it’s a constant choice. And no, you might not always make the right one, but guess what? I won’t either; we both have a long track record of just that. I know my experience was a bit different, but I remember what it was like, with the Dark One whispering my deepest desires in my ear—and enabling them. But we wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you hadn’t already proved you’re capable of rising above all that.”

He blinked and sniffed. “Logically, I know all that. But deep down…what if I fail, Emma? What if I succumb to that again?”

“Why would you?” she countered easily. She couldn’t imagine any scenario where he—either of them—would risk losing everything they had now to pursue anything that could place them on a darker path, other than something drastic.

Which, of course, was exactly what he was imagining; should have known that someone who had literally lived through the worst things possible would very quickly find themselves reliving that, or envisioning worse. She could feel his magic sparking against her palm as his emotions began to spiral again.

“Hey—no,” she said firmly, cupping his face with her hand to make him look at her before he could follow that train of thought further. “Nothing is gonna happen.”

“You can’t confidently say that, Emma.”

“And yet, I just did,” she winked, hoping to lighten the mood. He gave a tiny smile back; she took it as a win. “And if for whatever reason you ever did go that way again—well, I’m not so pure and light either, regardless of my savior status. I’m not going anywhere; I will always be at your side.”

His eyes bored into hers and she was expecting some grandiose statement of love, but instead, he surged forward, finding her lips with his own. Well. She recognized well enough when actions spoke louder than words.

She leaned into the kiss without hesitation, her free hand drifting down to his chest. He still held tight to her hand but used his left arm to pull her into his lap, which she promptly straddled. He had a death grip on her whole being and was hardly giving her room to breathe, but she wasn’t complaining; she’d let him have whatever he wanted.

When they did finally come up for air, he gasped out, “Emma; I—I need—”

“What?” Her voice was just as breathless.

“I need to feel…” he whispered, eyes squinted shut.

“Tell me.”

He opened his eyes, and frantic blue was looking out. “Good.”

“You are good,” she reminded him.

“I just…I need you.” He sounded desperate.

“Always.”

They made quick work of their clothes in tandem; wherever he touched her as he helped her undress, sparks danced along her skin. Once she slid his shirt and vest off of his shoulders, she had to bite back a gasp at the way his veins glowed from within all across his body. She stared at it for a moment, but he didn’t let her linger long, gently guiding her chin back up to claim her lips again.

Awkwardly, they shimmied out of their pants (but they were used to that being a bit unpolished in their usual hunger for each other) and fell against their mattress side-by-side. She was about to ask how he wanted it, until he wrapped his arms around her and rolled on top.

But he hesitated, even though he was hovering above her (and she was more than ready for him). “What?”

“Can I…?” It wasn’t hard for her to tell what he was asking. They usually kept things fairly reciprocal in the bedroom, but every so often, for whatever reason, one or the other would take the lead. Given that Killian was feeling somewhat out of control at the moment, she knew what he was asking.

“Of course,” she answered, reaching up to cup his neck and toy with the short hairs at the nape of it; he seemed to melt a bit at her touch. “Take what you need.”

His expression softened, and he again kissed her lips as he carefully lowered his hips against hers.

There was no formal foreplay—he was too anxious, and frankly, she was already worked up—but the way his length brushed against her folds as he began to move above her felt divine and had her eager for more.

His leather brace was cold against her increasingly flushed skin where he rested it along her side, but his hand was warm where it gripped her waist. They hadn’t yet broken the kiss, but he came close a few times—either from his own growing arousal, which she was increasingly aware of, or from the play of her fingers through the hair of both his head and his chest. The way his veins continued to pulse incandescently was tell-tale, too.

Finally, he did pull back a bit, but not much—only just enough to give her a little breathing room (not that she wanted any). He sat back on his haunches and stroked himself, but the way his hand was shaking was visible.

So she propped herself up on one arm and stilled his trembling hand with her steady one. “Let me?”

He closed his eyes, somewhere between frustration and gratitude, and nodded. “Aye.”

Gently, keeping her hand around his, she helped him get the rest of the way to hard—which didn’t take long, but long enough for her to admire the wrecked look on his face and the way his long lashes sat on his cheekbones. Then she guided him to her entrance; he needed no help pressing in, though. (But she wrapped her legs around his waist, anyway.)

For a moment, they both adjusted to the feel of him being inside her; she never tired of the perfect way he filled her (both physically and emotionally). He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, looking down at her with not a small amount of lust, but there was still some trepidation in there.

“You are a wonderful man, Killian Jones,” she murmured, cupping his cheek. “And I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he said on a breath, then pressed himself closer as he began to move.

She figured at the outset, she’d have been the one loving on him; and yet, here they were, with him sucking kisses into the most sensitive parts of her neck as he continued to pull out and press in, delivering the best kind of friction that had her steadily climbing to her peak.

She’d never had as giving a lover as Killian, and in her experience, those were few and far between. In her opinion, that said enough about what kind of man he was.

He picked up his pace as they both chased release; she urged him on, pressing her heels into his lower back. “Emma—are you—?”

“Almost,” she breathed.

He reached between them and found her clit (seriously—he was on another level), massaging it gently, but she still gasped at the sensation. How he was able to work it without losing his rhythm was a mystery to her, but she was the farthest thing from complaining.

“I’m—I’m—” she stuttered, approaching her apex.

“Come for me, love,” he whispered, and she did, with a cry and a jolt—literally.

It felt like her every neuron was lit up as she hit orgasm—which wasn’t unusual, but the fact that her magic was humming beneath her skin was new. Tiny pinpricks of electricity sparked along her spine and through her veins, then danced at her fingertips.

With the way she was gripping his shoulders as she fell into oblivion, she hoped she wasn’t hurting him—from either her grasp or her magic. But he didn’t seem to give any indication of discomfort as he found his own release a few moments later.

Once she caught her breath, her eyes fluttered open to look up at him—and her breath was immediately stolen again, because he was entirely alight, the blue glow of his magic shining from within. She wasn’t sure if the sheen on his skin was sweat or an expression of his own water powers, but each drop was almost fluorescent.

She brushed his wet (again) hair from where it hung in his face; there was again a reaction when her own inherent electricity met his personal precipitation. His eyes flew open at her touch, and even his irises seemed to be lit from within.

“What is it?” he asked softly, his eyes darting back and forth as he studied her face.

“Just…look at you,” she told him. “You’re incredible.”

His brow furrowed in confusion, but then he glanced down at himself. He stilled at first, but then slowly sat back (pulling himself out in the process) and held his arms out in front of him, staring.

At first, she couldn’t quite tell if he was in awe or shock; there was an unusual lack of expression on his face as he studied himself and the magic flowing through his veins, glowing especially bright under his breast—at his heart.

He clenched his hand into a fist and closed his eyes. She propped herself up on her elbows as she watched…whatever he was doing. It still seemed like he wasn’t sure—until she saw his jaw clench in a determined way.

Not just that—no, he suddenly seemed confident.

The beads of water all along his skin seemed to glow brighter for a second, then lifted away from him. Slowly, they began to twist and swirl, circling Killian and coalescing into one spiral of luminescent liquid.

Few things she could recall looked more beautiful.

The coil of water made a few more revolutions before snaking away—towards the bathroom, she realized; of course, he’d be conscientious about cleaning up his mess (they’d deal with the other one later).

The glow under his skin had faded as the physical evidence of his magic disappeared, but a different kind replaced it: he opened his eyes—and grinned.

“Believe me now?” she asked—a bit smug, but mostly proud and just so, so in love.

“Aye, I think I do,” he answered; she thought he was being unusually modest, especially when he scratched behind his ear, but then he was glancing up at her through his lashes, gaze filled with lust. “But maybe you could remind me again?”

“Mm, I think that can be arranged.”

Round Two was just as magical. (So was Round Three.)

Some time later, calm and sated, they fell into bed again, but this time for rest. She was tucked into his side, her hand resting over his heart on his bare chest, and he was holding her close.

“Thank you, Swan,” he murmured as she began to drift off.

“For what?”

“For helping me come back to myself.”

She tilted his head to face her. “Always. But I hope you don’t need it as often now.”

“I hope so too, but—”

She stopped him mid-sentence by pressing a finger to his lips. “Uh-uh. No buts. Do you honestly think a selfish man would have made me come four times tonight?”

He chuckled. “I suppose not.”

“You are one of the best people I know, Killian, and it’s because you once weren’t that makes you so good now—you’ve walked that path, you know what it was like, and you learned what not to do. Nothing and no one can change that.”

“No, I don’t think they can,” he agreed. “Not as long as I have you by my side.”

She cupped his cheek. “Well, I’m not going anywhere, but you don’t need me. Remember—I know what your heart looks like, and it is the brightest red.”

“There’s a bit of black.”

“A bit. The part that kept you alive long enough for us to find each other. And the part that’s a reminder of how far you’ve come. Don’t ever forget that, okay?”

“I won’t.”

She pressed a kiss against his lips and settled her head on his chest (her favorite pillow). “Good. I love you.”

“I love you too, darling. Eternally.”

“Same. Now stop being melodramatic and go to sleep.”

He laughed again—she loved the feel of its vibration under her cheek—but complied, and they both drifted into a peaceful sleep.

And hopefully, that was the last time she had to convince him that he was no longer defined by his past. They’d certainly had that conversation before, but this one had a sense of finality—of closure.

Whatever lay ahead—whatever Dorian had planned—it was even more unlikely to succeed now.

And that was the comforting thought that put her to sleep.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・🗡・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Back on the ship, Dorian stood over where his twin’s hook still sat lodged in the deck. He was smirking, and frankly impressed with himself.

He knew he’d have to get his hands on it at some point, but hadn’t expected it to be this easy. A piece of metal that had been touched by all three former Dark Ones? (Everyone knew the story of Hook attempting to stab Rumpelstiltskin with his namesake appendage, and he’d seen the sheriff touch it more than once.) A rare thing to come by but crucial to his plan.

He extinguished his cigarette on the ship’s railing, leaving the ashes behind, then knelt down to inspect it. So unassuming, but so much potential.

He fished a handkerchief from an inner pocket of his coat and wrapped it around the curved metal. It took more force than he anticipated to free it from the wood, but once he did, he tucked it in his jacket and then transported himself away, back to the room he was squatting in.

While that was an important ingredient, it wasn’t all he needed to complete the spell. Obviously, blood was required, and there was still the matter of getting at their souls, but progress was progress.

Though the night was young, it was definitely past closing time for most businesses, so his next step would have to wait a bit. He’d seen another bar that day that looked to be less trite than the Rabbit Hole; it’d be good enough to spend an evening.

He took out the hook and put it in the drawer of the bedside table, ignoring the overflowing ashtray atop it, then placed a locking spell on it that only he could undo (he wasn’t fool enough to think a blood lock might hold, even if Killian was nowhere near that kind of magic yet).

Tomorrow, he’d keep moving forward. Tonight, he’d just have fun.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・🗡・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

thanks for reading! tagging some peeps (let me know if you do/don’t want a tag!) @kat2609 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy@mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @wistfulcynic @pirateherokillian @colinoeyebrows @wingedlioness @word-bug @thisonesatellite @killianmesmalls @thejollyroger-writer @ineffablecolors @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubblesandwich @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis @scientificapricot @searchingwardrobes @donteattheappleshook @jrob64 @the-darkdragonfly @stahlop @klynn-stormz @resident-of-storybrooke @bluewildcatfanatic

#cs ff #cssns 2023 #killian jones ff #captain swan supernatural summer #sons of love and death #my ff

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