#WICB | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cluttermind · 5 years ago

Text

Without A Parachute (7/15) - Silver, Gold, and Secrets

Summary: Emma worked tremendously hard to give herself a better chance. From group homes, to living in her car, to ivy league student, this English Major’s only solace was escaping her reality through books. One night, Emma comes home to find a small package with only her name on it written in beautiful calligraphy. The package contains a thick, brown leather journal. Emma soon learns that the fiction she writes in the journal eventually becomes reality. Will Emma learn to control this gift, or will she fall too fast into the temptation to change too much? With the help of her good friends August, Robin, and Elsa, and the mysterious, intriguing bartender of The Jolly Roger, Emma discovers just how easy it is to lose control, and how difficult it is to pick up the pieces.

Rating: M

Words: 31,139 total / 6,952 Ch 7

Read on ao3: Beginning | Current

A/N: Sorry again for the inconsistent posting schedule! I'm trying so hard to stay on track. Here's a LONG chapter with a whole lot happening to make up for it :) Enjoy some fluff, plot, and smut!

Also the formatting is better on ao3 so I’d recommend reading there :)

I dreamt I saw you walking up a hillside in the snow

Casting shadows on the winter sky as you stood there counting crows

One for sorrow

Two for joy

Three for girls and four for boys

Five for silver

Six for gold and

Seven for a secret never to be told

- Counting Crows, Murder of One

Cold, Emma rolled over to snuggle closer to Killian. Instead she rolled flat onto her stomach. She blindly reached out, slapping the empty mattress next to her trying to find him. Groaning when she concluded he wasn’t next to her, Emma rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, checking the clock next to her. 9:30 am . Sighing, she dragged herself out of bed and made her way downstairs. Halfway down the stairs she spotted Killian in the kitchen. His phone was in his hand. His ear buds were in. And he was dancing . Like an idiot. In boxers and a t-shirt. His hair still messy from bed. God, he was awful. But fuck he was sexy.

He clearly didn’t notice her because he didn’t stop, only slowed a bit to fill the coffee maker with water. So Emma snuck up behind him and joined his ridiculous dancing. Eventually he turned around, saw her, and broke out into a fit of laughter.

“What’re we dancing to?” Emma yelled so he could hear her over his music. It was so loud she could hear it faintly from where she was in front of him. In response, Killian connected his phone to the bluetooth speaker on the counter and blasted Your Such A Mystery by Bleachers.

To anyone on the outside of their bubble they looked ridiculous. To Emma, it looked like what love should be. Or, at least, what she had always imagined it to be. Jumping around the kitchen at 9:30 in the morning in their pajamas, everything felt comfortable and wonderful. Maybe it was the endorphins talking but she felt like she was on cloud nine. And when Killian pulled her close to him to kiss her passionately, she believed that this must be the high people tried to chase with drugs. Who needs drugs when they have a Killian?

When the song ended, Killian pulled back. “Coffee, love?”

“That depends. It’s not the same crap you have at the pub, is it?” Emma teased. Killian lowered the music so they didn’t have to scream to have a conversation when they were standing in each other's personal space.

He chuckled. “I promise it’s not. It’s local and it’s sweet. You’ll like it.” Killian poured them each a mug of coffee. He was right, she did like it. There was a hit of chocolate that did, in fact, make the bitter drink a little sweeter. She hummed softly, enjoying the comfort of the warm mug in her hand as the coffee started to bring her back to reality.

“What is it?”

“Ithaca House Blend from Ithaca Coffee Company. It’s fair trade and organic.” He explained, taking a sip from his mug.

“Why don’t you serve this at the Jolly?”

“Because it’s not cheap and I spend money on alcohol. You and maybe 2 other people have ever ordered coffee there.”

“Maybe that’s because they know you serve shit coffee.”

Killian chuckled. “Maybe.” Emma hopped up to sit on the island while Killian leaned back against the counter across from her. They drank their coffee for a moment in comfortable silence, listening to the music coming softly through the speaker on the counter. “How are you this morning?” He asked, tentatively. Concern blanketed his words, silently asking whether he hurt her, whether she regretted it, whether she enjoyed it. He was familiar with the buzz that an orgasm left him in and the way it sometimes, or more recently the way it often, faded the following morning. That morning, however, he woke up happier than he had ever been. Killian, who was much more of a night owl than an early bird, nearly sprung out of bed dancing while he replayed every glorious moment of the previous night a little too graphically according to a certain part of him that was more awake than the rest of him. That’s how he ended up dancing alone in his kitchen. Partially because he was happy, partially because he needed to work off the stress that started to settle in his stomach when he remembered the countless nights he regretted the morning after and wondered if that was how Emma would feel.

Emma knew. She knew exactly what he was asking when he spoke. “Cold. I did wake up alone while someone was having a dance party without me.”

Killian chuckled, set his mug down and moved to wrap his arms around her. Emma’s legs wrapped around his waist and his arms around his neck. “Better?”

“Much,” she said, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck.

“I have to pick up a few things from my apartment today and I assume you need some things from yours. I thought we could get that out of the way this morning, binge some Netflix or break out the DVD collection,” Killian’s voice dropped, “maybe jump in the hottub later?”

Emma sighed, heat pooling in her belly. “That sounds wonderful.”

They finished their coffee and made their way upstairs to get dressed during which Killian spent more time staring at Emma than actually pulling his own clothing on and Emma spent more time staring at Killian than actually pulling on her clothes and if it wasn’t for that lingering, delicious, ache between her legs reminding her of the previous night’s activity there likely would’ve been a repeat.

“Later,” Emma purred as she walked past him and out of the bedroom carrying her bag with her. Like a puppy, he followed her, hanging on each syllable that fell from her mouth.

They hopped in Killian’s car and drove back to Collegetown. In the daylight, the view from their drive was wonderful. Half the way back Emma could see the lake. She let her mind drift as she stared off into the distance, Killian tuning the radio to the local college modern rock station - WICB 91.7 FM. Emma’s eyes drifted to sleep from the soft vibrations of the car. Unfortunately her nap, which was more like sleep part 2 considering she had only been up for about an hour, was quickly interrupted by Killian gently shaking her shoulder. He had parked right outside the Jolly Roger.

“Swan, wake up, love.” He placed a kiss to her temple as if he was bribing her to open her eyes.

“Five more minutes,” Emma grumbled.

“You can go right back to sleep when we get back to the house but right now I need you to pack.” Emma groaned, refusing to open her eyes. “Or else.” Killain smirked

“Or else what?”

“Or else I’ll withhold sex from you all week.” He toyed.

Emma opened her eyes for the sole purpose of glaring at him. If looks could kill, Killian surely would’ve been dead in that moment. Then she closed her eyes again. “Okay goodnight.”

Killian scoffed. “Fine. Then I won’t buy you breakfast.”

Emma’s ears perked up and she instantly opened her eyes. “CTB?”

“If I say yes will you please go pack?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.”

Emma jumped out of the car, slamming the door a little too hard in her excitement. Killian mentally noted that she was significantly more food motivated than sex motivated and went to his apartment to pack his own things.

In her bedroom Emma stared at the handful of clothes she owned. She grabbed a few pairs of jeans and leggings and a pair of sweatpants, her favorite Cornell sweatshirt and long sleeve (which together may as well have cost her an entire week's pay), a nicer sweater, and some long sleeves. Remembering that Killian mentioned a hot tub, she tossed in the simple black bikini that Elsa made her buy back in September when the weather was still nice enough to go gorge jumping. But when it came to lingerie, Emma was stuck.

Emma Swan: When you’re back we need to go shopping.

Elsa Agnarr: FINALLY!

Elsa Agnarr: where?

Emma Swan: That mall in Syracuse you always try to get me to take you to?

Elsa Agnarr: really?! i mean im not complaining ;) why the sudden desire to take a shopping trip?

Emma Swan: Oh nothing. I just need some new bras.

Elsa Agnarr: and you felt the need to text me a week in advance to plan a shopping trip for just some new bras…

Emma Swan: I slept with Killian.

Emma’s phone rang and Elsa started speaking the second she answered the FaceTime call. “You did what?”

“I told you.”

“Were you safe?!”

“Elsa!” They laughed. They were the cautious two of the group, nearly mothering over August and Robin whenever they could. Of course Emma was safe.

“Was it good?”

“Oh my god.” Emma blushed furiously.

“Oooooo I knew he’d be good in bed.”

“Elsa!”

“Oh come on! Even though we don’t play for the same team, anyone with eyes would bet that Killian Jones is good in bed.”

Emma sighed, an unfamiliar green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head in Emma’s mind. “Don’t remind me.”

“So are you guys together?”

“I don’t know.” Emma admitted. She wanted to be. To call Killian Jones hers? That’s a dream Emma hadn’t allowed herself to have. No matter what, Killian had been there for her. To lose that, to lose her friend if none of this worked out, might kill her. He deserved someone better, someone less damaged . And the familiar spiral began tightening in her mind.

“Don’t overthink this Em. You deserve to be happy and he clearly makes you happy. I see the way you smile every time his name pops up on your phone.”

“I just don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“I think you ruined what you had when you slept with him. There’s no going back from that. You need to talk to him.”

“I know.”

“Elsa! Elsa!” Emma heard a familiar voice shouting on the other end of the line. Elsa giggled.

“Sorry I have to go. Anna’s been forcing me to help her make some pro/con lists for the college’s she’s been accepted to.”

“Well she can’t go to Harvard. That’s a given.”

“Can’t go to Penn either.”

“Guess it just has to be Cornell.”

“ Far above Cayuga’s waters - ” Elsa started singing loudly so Anna could hear the alma mater every Cornell student knew by heart by the end of their first semester.

�� With it’s waves of blue-” Emma joined in. “ Stands our noble Alma Mater, glorious to view. LIFT the chorus, speed it onward, loud her praises tell, hail to thee our Alma Mater - ”

In the background Anna groaned. “Not again.”

“ HAIL, ALL HAIL, CORNELL! ” They screamed, bursting out laughing.

“I’m going to Harvard if you don’t stop.” Anna threatened.

“No you’re not.” Elsa turned her attention back to Emma. “I’ll talk to you later?”

“Talk to you later.” They hung up. Emma’s lingerie problem, however, will have to wait another week. She shoved the nicest things she owned into the duffle bag she packed, stuffed her laptop and her journal into her backpack, and finally left her apartment to meet Killian at the car.

He was sitting against the edge of his open trunk, reading something on his phone when she reached him.

“Reading anything interesting?” She asked to get his attention.

“Nope. Just doing some online shopping, love.” Killian kissed her cheek as he took her bag from her and placed it in the trunk. He had a black backpack and his guitar secured in its case. “Breakfast?”

“Please.” Emma was starving and entirely unprepared for the way he took her hand in his after he closed the trunk of his car, nonchalantly, as if this was their normal, their comfortable, their them .

They walked to CollegeTown Bagels, their joined hands swinging gently between them. When they arrived, they got on line as Killian told her a story about one Summer he spent with his grandparents as a kid. His thumb rubbed softly over the back of her hand, engrossed in his own story. Emma, however, wasn't paying any attention.

At the front of the cafe, there was a brunette, a ghost from Emma’s past. Or, at least, she looked like a ghost from Emma’s past. Emma couldn’t quite make out the girl’s face. She was looking down at her phone, her hair blocking Emma’s view. Suddenly her past was flashing before her eyes, unfolding like a horror story where the victim runs into the house and the audience screams stop. But there’s no stopping the spiral Emma’s mind falls into.

A security guard was at the end of the aisle, clearly noticing the PopTart box Emma was shoving under her sweatshirt. The guard cleared her throat when Emma noticed her.

“Are you going to pay for that miss?”

Emma was panicking. She couldn’t pay for it. She didn’t have money. All she had were a few hand-me-down clothes in a backpack and a bruise on her cheek from her last foster home she was trying to escape from.

Thankfully, a brunette around her age came to stand beside her and held up a credit card. “Yes, ma’am. Our Dad’s in the car just outside.” The guard nodded and left them to be. The girl turned to Emma. “The key is swiping one of these.”

Emma nodded. “Thank you.”

“I’m just like you, you know. Trying to get away. I’m Lilly.”

Emma’s grip on Killian’s hand tightened like a vice grip.

“Swan?” KIllian asked, concern blanketing his voice. “Are you alright, love?

But Emma didn’t hear a word he said.

Emma and Lilly shopped for a bit. They became fast friends. When they checked out and left, however, a car not too far away started honking and driving after them. Emma figured this was the man Lilly swiped the card from. So they ran.

They lost the car and Lilly led her to a beautiful lake house that was empty for the season. And they promised to be friends forever, no matter what. Emma told her everything about her life, about moving between foster homes, about the abusive man that ran the last group home she was in, about how alone she felt all the time.

And Lilly pretended to understand. Because, in fact, Lilly couldn’t truly understand what Emma was going through. Because when they were caught later that night, it was Lilly’s father who caught them. Because this was Lilly’s family’s summer home.

Killian’s hand was starting to hurt under Emma’s grasp. It was their turn to place their order and Killian stepped up to the register, taking Emma with him.

The brunette looked up when she stood to throw away her empty coffee cup. It had to be Lilly. But what was she doing in Ithaca? Emma nearly started hyperventilating, wanting to call out to her but being unable to find her voice.

“Swan, what do you want for breakfast?”

Emma watched the girl she assumed to be Lilly leave. “I’m actually not hungry anymore. I think I’ll just meet you outside,” She said, without turning to look at him. Emma let go of Killian’s hand and dashed out of the cafe.

There was already distance between them. Emma just stood there, shocked. She didn’t know what to say or whether to say anything or whether Lilly still hated her. And even though Emma was standing alone, now nowhere near Lilly, she was working herself up to a panic attack. Her entire body was shaking. Killian followed shortly after.

“Emma?” He quickly noticed her panicked state and pulled her into his arms, placing a comforting kiss to her forehead. “Come on, love. Let’s go.”

***

Back at the house, Killian made tea for Emma and opened a package of PopTarts to put on a plate. From the kitchen he felt the weight of Emma’s thoughts, but she hadn’t said a word to him since the cafe. Something happened there, but he couldn’t figure out what. Was it him? Was it another guy? Was she having second thoughts? Was she starting to regret what they did? Was she starting to regret what they were, what they had become, what was so strong between them?

She was curled up on the couch, staring at the TV which was turned to the local news channel. It was Ithaca. It was grey, cold, probably some form of precipitation was expected at some point in the day, some local business was probably doing something for charity, the university students were probably protesting or petitioning something, and there was probably news about music or theatrical performances. Every now and again something major happened at one of the colleges and that was actually newsworthy. All of this to say that if you need something mindless to watch, local news in central New York was the place to turn.

Killian brought the tea and plate over to Emma who graciously accepted the mug but ignored the plate. Killian sat next to her, keeping some distance between them in case he was the reason she was upset. “Talk to me, love,” he urged her, gently.

Emma took a sip of tea. “It’s nothing, Killian.”

“Swan, you’re clearly upset about something. You’re an open book to me.” He sighed. “Did I do something? Do you regret last night?”

Emma looked at him, wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. “What?! No! Killian, no.” She set the mug down and laid down, resting her head in his lap. He stroked her hair, playing with his softly. Instantly she felt relaxed, her heart fluttering slightly, her entire body tingling in bliss from the feeling of Killian’s fingers running through her hair.

“You know you can tell me anything, love.”

Emma sighed. “I thought I saw an old friend. I guess she’s more like a former friend. I’m not really sure anymore, to be honest.” Killian stopped his motions and looked at her. “Don’t stop,” Emma nearly whimpered.

Killian chuckled and resumed playing with Emma’s hair. “What happened?”

“Lilly and I met when she saved my ass while I was trying to steal PopTarts from a convenience store.”

“Ah the shoplifting PopTarts story.”

Emma looked up at him. “You remember that?”

Killian blushed. “Aye.”

Emma could’ve kissed him senseless in that moment. Finally, for what felt like the first time in her life, someone genuinely listened to her. And this wasn’t the first time Emma had this realization about Killian. She noticed every time he heard her answers to how her day was. She noticed every time she ranted about school or told him what she learned. But something about this time meant a little more to her.

“Yeah. The shoplifting PopTarts story. Anyway, she made me feel like she was like me. Like she was also a foster kid, bouncing around from home to home. It was a particularly bad time. I was running away from a home that didn’t treat any of the kids right. There was always a reason for the guy running it to hit us, always something we did wrong, something we did to aggravate him. So I ran and I was hungry and I was about to get caught and Lilly stepped in with a credit card and said that our dad was waiting for us outside. She told me she swiped the card from some stranger, that she was also running from the system and brought me to this empty lake house which, by the way, was her family’s lake house because she wasn’t running from the system because she was never in the system and she tricked me into thinking she understood but she couldn’t understand. No one could understand what it’s like to constantly be running as a child, to not have a home, to sometimes have a roof over your head but never be at peace and never feel safe. No one could understand what it’s like to want to get the fuck out so fucking bad that you spend two and a half years living in a car you worked overtime to be able to buy just to have consistency in your fucking transcript so ivy leagues don’t immediately reject you. No one could understand unless they fucking experienced it.”

Emma was screaming by the time she finished. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she bared part of her soul to a man she realized she didn’t want to live without, a man that made her feel loved and at peace and at home, a man who would stand so fiercely beside her through anything life threw at her.

And in that same moment of realization for Emma, Killian fell in love with her.

“Emma . . .” Killian whispered, silently making promises to himself that he dared not speak out loud for fear that she’d run from the sheer intensity of the way he felt for her. No longer would he ever allow her to be hit or hurt. No longer would he ever allow her to feel alone or hungry. No longer would he ever allow her to not have a home or someone she would call family or someone she could turn to when everything was crashing down around her or simply getting too much for one person to carry. No longer would he ever allow her to feel unloved.

He didn’t want her to ever have to run from something again. He wanted to be what she ran to.

“There’s more. I’ll tell you the rest another day.” Emma sat up so that she could curl up against Killian’s side as he engulfed her in his arms. He held her tightly against him and they sat silently for a while. Eventually, they both fell asleep.

***

They were sitting on the floor on either side of the coffee table in the living room, Emma’s back against the couch as she lost yet another game of chess to Killian who broke out his grandfather’s marble chess set. He had even tried to let her win on multiple occasions but Emma was too distracted by his deep blue eyes to pay any mind to the game in front of her. She missed easy takes and fell easily into his traps. Fitting, really, considering how easily she fell for, fell into, him .

“Alright, alright, I surrender.” Emma tapped her foot against Killian’s thigh. “I believe that you promised me a dip in a hot tub?” She asked, smirking at him.

If it were possible to undress someone with your eyes, Killian would’ve been naked in an instant with the look Emma was giving him. He waggled his eyebrows at her, entirely up to play this game she started. “Did you bring your swimsuit, love?"

“Do I need one, Captain?” Emma teased.

“You little minx.” Killian growled, his cock already starting to harden simply at the words falling off her tongue, and the image they created in his mind. “You go change, or strip, either works wonders for me, love, and grab some towels from upstairs.”

Emma giggled and bounded up the stairs to change into her black bikini. She pulled her hair up into a bun on the top of her head, grabbed some towels, and rummaged through the dresser drawers to find a pair of Killian’s swim trunks for him.

She found him in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of red wine. Killian was nothing if not a romantic.

“I hope one of those is for me,” she toyed, wanting to get his attention and catch him off guard while she wore nothing but her bathing suit.

The second he saw her, Killian’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow,” was about all he could manage.

Emma threw his swim trunks at him. “I brought you these.” He caught them, easily.

He handed her a glass and kissed her softly. “Outside on the left end of the deck. I’ll meet you there, my love.”

The cold air nipped at Emma’s skin as she quickly walked towards the hot water, careful not to spill her wine. It was a long day that tested all of her emotions. Quite frankly, she was exhausted and stressed. Killian tried all day to keep her mind busy, tried to help her relax. As graceful as we were for him, none of it worked. Her past with Lilly kept replaying over and over like a broken record or a film on loop. Sinking into the warm bubbly water, her back against a few of the jets, finally she felt herself relaxing. The jets felt so good against her back she was nearly moaning by the time Killian joined her. She actually didn’t even notice him slipping into the tub across from her until he chuckled.

“Enjoying yourself, love?”

“This might be better than sex.”

Killian threw his head back and laughed. He could have come up with a cheeky line, but he knew she needed this. He knew she needed to really relax, to turn her mind off for a second. He’d follow her lead on where this went.

“Come here, Swan.” He took a sip of his wine and set it down on the ledge behind him. Emma moved to sit between Killian’s legs. He placed a sensual kiss on her shoulder and his hands trailed up her arms to rub her shoulders, working at the knots that had formed there likely from stress.

Emma moaned softly. “That feels nice.”

“All I want is to make you feel good.” Killian whispered against her ear, nipping teasingly at her lobe.

“Mmm you’re succeeding.”

He trailed kisses slowly down her neck, stopping at her pulse point to suck gently at her skin. His fingertips ghosted down her sides, tracing the curves of her breasts and her waist. “I’ve wanted you since the day I met you, Swan.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine as he spoke in that timbre she learned was reserved for only the sultriest of remarks, the dirtiest of phrases, the sexiest of sayings.

“Well now you have me . . . And I’m all yours, Killian.” Emma’s hands rested on Killian’s thighs. As much as she wanted to turn to face him, to straddle his legs and grind into him, to tell him to take shed them of the few clothes creating a barrier between them, Emma was quite enjoying this teasing game.

“And I, yours, love.” Killian pulled her back against him so she could feel the effect her words had on him. “Just hearing you say that is enough to turn me on.”

Emma wiggled her ass back against him which elicited a hiss from Killian behind her. “I quite enjoy having this effect on you, Captain.”

“Oh do you now?”

“Aye,” Emma said, mocking his accent.

Killian chuckled. “You think you’re funny?”

“Aye,” she mocked again, a devilish grin plastered on her face.

In response, Killian nipped at her pulse point, dragging his teeth teasingly over her skin, sucking to leave his mark on her. Not expecting how incredible that would feel, Emma gasped. “Not so funny anymore, are you, my love?”

Taking a deep breath to attempt to calm her racing heart, Emma hummed softly. “It’s hard to think straight when you’re doing such salacious things to me.”

Killian trailed his fingertips underwater over her stomach, whispering in a sultry tone against her neck between wet kisses, “Close your eyes, Swan.”

“Why?”

“Do you trust me?”

Emma closed her eyes. “With all my heart.” She let her head fall back against Killian’s shoulder.

“Imagine I’m kissing down your body,” Killian whispered, trailing his hand between her breasts and down her stomach to the waistband of her bikini bottoms. Emma hummed in response. “Teasing just above where I know you want me.”

Dancing his fingers over her skin, he turned his attention to her breast. “You’re wearing far too much clothing, love.”

Emma reached behind her neck and untied the top while Killian untied the back, tossing the material to the ground beside the tub. “Better?” She teased.

“Much,” Killian smirked, cupping her breasts in his hands, massaging gently.

Emma moaned, heat pooling in the pit of her stomach. “Killian . . .”

“Does that feel good love?” He purred.

“Fuck, Killian. Yes,” Emma groaned, arching her back as if her body was begging for more of his touch, more of his voice, more of his everything.

He placed a kiss on her shoulder. “You’re so beautiful, Emma.”

Emma hummed softly. “Don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what? Talking?” Killian teased.

“Don’t stop talking,” Emma affirmed, the simple way each word teasingly fell off his tongue sending chills down her spine.

“As you wish, my love.” One of his hands grazed over a sensitive spot on her side.

Emma broke out into a fit of giggles. “Killian! Stop!"

Killian chuckled, purposely tickling her. “Stop?”

“I’m ticklish!” Emma nearly bucked back against him, her laughter uncontrollable. Killian grins, the carefree nature of her genuine laugh warmed his heart. For once today, after a long, stressful day, it looked like Emma was relaxed. But he stopped, lifting both of his hands off of her body, complying with her request.

“Wait, no,” Emma whimpered.

“No?”

“Come back.” She reached back and grabbed one of his wrists, bringing his hand back to rest on her stomach.

“I’m here, Swan. Wherever you need me.” He lowered his lips back to her neck, over the mark he had left earlier. Once again, his hands were roaming her torso, dancing over her stomach, careful to avoid her ticklish sides, caressing her breasts beneath the water, teasing her nipples.

Emma groaned, his name slipping effortlessly from her lips as her eyes close and her head resettles against his shoulder. “More,” she whispers, as if saving that word only for him.

“How about,” Killians hands trailed down her body to her thighs, “here?”

Emma inhales sharply, his fingers dangerously close to where she so desperately needs him. “More,” she repeats. “Killian, please.”

She can feel him smile against her throat, grinning like a madman.

“Where?” He asked, as if he didn’t already know, as if he didn’t already know where she was aching for his touch, as if he wasn’t aching to give her everything she needed, everything she wanted.

Emma rested her hand over his, guiding him to rest above where she needed him over her bikini bottoms. He strummed his fingers over her clit. “Oh god.”

“Killian will do just fine, love,” he joked, chuckling as he continued his teasing.

If Emma could do anything other than moan she might’ve - would’ve - rolled her eyes at him. Instead, she played along, giving him exactly what he asked for. “Oh Killian.”

He hummed softly. “I love the way you moan my name, letting the world know who’s turning you on, who’s making you feel this good.”

Grinding her hips into his hand, Emma was reaching the point of begging. “Killian,” she pleaded, “more.”

Killian grinned, having found the perfect opportunity to mention one of the ridiculous pickup lines he had spent hours looking for on the internet after they had first met when she was studying for economics. “Are your legs available for some open market operations, Swan?”

Emma’s eyes shot open and she turned around to playfully hit his chest.

“What? Not up for a conversation about open markets, Swan? I thought you’d be an expert after all that studying you’ve been doing.” He smirked, clearly enjoying this game they’ve been playing.

Emma glared pointedly at him, a smile tugging at the edges of her lips. “You almost ruined the mood.”

“Almost?” Killian raised an eyebrow at her.

Emma shifts to straddle his legs, now facing him, finally able to see the storm in his eyes. Killian dragged his nails down her bare back, scratching gently. Her hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck and her lips captured his in a passionate kiss she had been longing for since this dance began. His tongue slipped between her lips, finding hers as he held her close to her. Instinctively, Killian groaned into her mouth as her hips rolled over his straining cock.

Emma grinned against his lips. “You like that, Captain?”

Killian hummed, his hands now resting on her hips, edging her down harder on him as she resisted. “More, Emma,” Killian pleaded.

“My, my, how the tables have turned.” Emma listed her hips off him entirely, eliciting a groan from the man beneath her.

“You’re killing me, love.” His hands ran over her ass, squeezing.

“Hmmmm maybe I’m feeling a sense of sympathy,” Emma teased, her hands toying with his hair, “for those swim trunks.” While her eyes portrayed the utmost innocence, her words insinuated that her intentions were anything but.

Killian smirked, waggling his eyebrows at her. “A growing sense?”

Emma giggled. “Well something’s growing.” She ran her hands down his chest until her fingers were brushing along his waistband. Killian leaned back, giving her the room she needed, groaning and laughing softly at the utter bliss rippling through his body at every brush of her fingertips.

Her hands grazed over his cock, clearly hard and ready for her. “Why don’t we move this into the bedroom?” She whispered salaciously against his lips.

“Swan, you read my mind.” She left him with a quick kiss, hopping out of the tub and wrapping a towel around her as she raced towards the back door to escape the cold, Ithaca night, with Killian following closely behind.

***

The past few days had been more than Emma ever could have dreamed of. Falling asleep wrapped in Killians arms holding her closely against her, waking up to freshly made cups of coffee, spending days playing games and reading and telling nonsensical stories, spending evening curled up on the couch watching whatever seemed interesting on Netflix, and spending nights making out on the couch like hormonal teenagers was simply perfect.

It was Wednesday. Spring break was halfway over and Emma dreaded having to go back to the reality of classes and studying and being apart from Killian. Her eyes fluttered open, sighing as Killian trailed butterfly kisses down her body. He had pushed the covers away, needing to see her face for cues. They hadn’t bothered getting dressed from the night before and had fallen asleep shortly after cleaning up from a delightful rendezvous.

She gripped the pillowcase with one hand while her other ran through his messy hair. A sleepy moan escaped her lips when he kissed her inner thigh. “Well this is a nice way to wake up,” Emma purred.

Killian grinned against her thigh, his stubble scratching gently against her only turned her on more. Unfortunately any endeavour he had planned for that morning was interrupted by Emma’s phone. He groaned, resting his cheek against her thigh, looking up at her with pleading, piercing blue eyes. “Please don’t answer that,” Killian begged. He’d been wanting to taste her all week, but they always seemed to get a little caught up in the moment.

Emma checked her phone, thinking it might be Belle asking her to come in a day or two to help out this week. “It’s August,” she said, confused. August never called her. His preferred method of annoying her was sending a million and a half text messages in a row until she answered. She gently swatted Killians face away from her, a move that was met with an even louder groan as he flopped onto his back. Emma answered the phone. “August?”

“Ems, I don’t fucking know what I’m going to fucking do,” August said, his voice sounding absolutely wrecked on the other end of the line.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” Emma asked, concern so clearly blanketing each word that Killian was no longer pouting like an incessant child and instead tossing her his t-shirt from the floor before grabbing a clean pair of boxers from the dresser for himself.

“I can’t fucking believe this is happening. Everything is falling apart.” It sounded like August, someone who had been her rock through the stress of their first semester, was crying. Emma quickly pulled Killian’s shirt on.

“August you have to talk to me. What happened?”

“I didn’t get the fucking internship.”

“The one with the publishing house in New York? I thought the final interview went well! The HR rep basically told you that you got the job.”

“Don’t you think I fucking know that?!” August screamed. Emma winced. “Fuck, Ems I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” Emma asked softly.

August sighed. “I have no idea. I got great feedback after every round and they basically handed me the job after the last round but I must’ve fucked up something because I got a rejection email this morning.” He choked on a sob. This was his dream internship. He had worked his entire life for the chance to be at this publishing house. He spent countless hours prepping and forcing Emma to ask him interview questions he had complied from random internet sources and previous interns he connected with on LinkedIn.

“August, I’m so sorry. You have that other interview right?”

“I turned it down. I turned it down after the empty promises HR made.”

Emma’s heart broke for her friend. “Fuck August. I’m so sorry.” Killian came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth and flopped back into bed, throwing his arm over his eyes. Emma reached over to play with his hair with her free hand.

“I don’t know what to do.” August whispered.

“We’ll figure this out. There are still applications open and great publishing houses to start at. Check Nashville. If you’re feeling adventurous check London.” Emma paused. “We’ll figure this out, August.”

“I just wish I knew what I did wrong.”

“So send an email. You had a good relationship with that guy in HR, send him an email and ask for some feedback so that you can come back next year and do better.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” August sighed heavily. “Thanks Ems. I better go. Sorry for bothering you.”

“I’m always here for you, Gus.”

August snorted. “I hate you.”

“Aw, I love you too!”

Killian smiled next to her, partially because it felt damn good when she ran her hand through his hair like she was doing and partially because it warmed his heart to hear how much she cared about her friends. And he would have been lying if he didn’t admit that he was imagining what it would be like to be on the receiving end of her “I love you.”

Emma hung up the phone after saying goodbye and sighed.

Killian uncovered his eyes to look up at her. “Everything alright, Swan?”

“Yeah. Something happened with August’s internship and he’s back at square one.”

Killian rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “Why do I sense there’s something else? You forget you’re an open book to me, love.”

“I just . . . I haven't even thought about what I was going to do this summer.”

Suddenly, Killian’s heart was in his throat, realizing that Emma might choose to spend the Summer in a glamorous city working for an incredible publishing house . . . away from him.

“What do you want to do?” He asked, tentatively but ready to fully support whatever dreams and goals she had. If only she knew how deeply he was in this thing that they started, how fiercely he’d stand beside her no matter what, how no matter where in the world she was he’d either wait for her or follow her. Killian, he was realizing this week, would follow her to the end of the world, or time, if that’s what it took to be with her.

Emma smiled down at him, shifting so she was no longer sitting up next to him but laying down facing him. “I want to write. I really want to write.”

Writing . Writing was something she could do anywhere. Writing was something she could do in Ithaca. Writing was something she didn’t have to leave him to accomplish. Killian grinned before showering her face in kisses.

Emma giggled, rolling onto her back so that Killian was taking his place atop her. “What's all this for?” She asked between fits of giggles, pretending like she didn’t know why Killian was happy - ecstatic really. Her whole life she wanted to be a writer, to tell stories like the ones that got her through the worst moments of her life, the ones that provided her an escape even when she was too tired to run, the ones that gave her hope and showed her love and captured her wildest imaginations. Writing suddenly had an added benefit. She could write wherever she wanted to write. She could write from Ithaca. She could stay near Killian. Emma didn’t need to give up her heart to follow her dreams.

“I just -” Killian paused, his heart racing as he smiled down at Emma beneath him.

“What, Killian?”

His heart skipped a beat when she said his name. Granted, there was nothing he adored more than the way Emma said his name. This time, however, she spoke his name as if she was claiming him as her own. “I just really didn’t want you to be away from me.”

“I think you’re stuck with me.” Emma pulled him close to her. “If you’ll have me, that is.”

“Emma, I am always yours.”

Neither of them could imagine, in that moment, a life without each other. And so they didn’t.

#without a parachute #cs ff #cs fanfic #smut #fluff #captain swan #killian jones #captain hook #emma swan

11 notes · View notes