#cs road trip au

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | sixteen.

—spotify playlist |series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 6.1k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, the storm is here (literally), a bit of a lillll argument, san comes to the rescue ofc, saurrrr much tension at first.. like the air is THICCCK, coming to resolutions & making up 🥺, kissing/making out, sweet moments, unprotected sex, fingering, slightly nipple play, hella soft missionary, hella soft sex from behind. idk everything is hella sweet and hella soft cause they’re just so in love and missed each other pls let them have this lil tender moment!! 🤍, a small oc x iseul encounter (just because i needed her to at LEAST give iseul some business), sorry if i missed anything - quickly edited!

—on rotation: goin' crazy - natalie

"Babe. Go home?" Eunchae says over the phone while you pack some things up. You were the only one out of your friends who stayed behind to finish up a few things and get ahead before the storm rolled in. The rest of your friends were smart enough to leave, and now, you were stuck on campus until [god knows when] the storm would settle.

"Chae, I literally think I'm stuck here. I didn't leave early enough." You sigh and head towards the window, watching as the rain continues to pour, the wind howling and beating against the glass.

"Why don't you wait it out for a few and then dart out as soon as it stops? I'm sure we'll get a quick break from the storm." 

"I'm scared to drive out in this rain. What if it traps me out on the road?" You groan. "I should've left earlier but I had to take care of some stuff in the lab before the storm came in just in case. I didn't want it to set me back."

"Is the building staying strong? Back up generators and all still pulling through?"

"Yeah, thankfully—" As if you had just jinxed it, the lights suddenly shut off in your studio— the lights in surrounding rooms also going out. The street lights are out.

Everything is dark and cold.

"Oh, fuck. Nevermind." You whine and pretend to cry.

"What, the lights went out?!"

"Yeah. I think the backup generators might've tripped out."

"Girl, get your ass home. Who knows when they'll start investigating and working on that?" 

"I should've left yesterday. I should've just listened to my gut!"

"But no, you had to go and be my 'lil overachiever." The both of you hear your emails ding— the internet in the building going out, leaving you with choppy service. "Oop, there goes the university message about the backup generator getting blown out for residence halls."

"Save me."

"Babe, just wait it out and get outta there. I'm sure it'll be fine when you drive home later, okay? Text me if anything. I can force my stepbrother to come and rescue you if needed."

"No, no. It's fine. I'll be okay."

"Okay, be safe for now. Love you!"

"Love you, too!" You let out another small breath as you sit in front of your half-packed weekender bag. You continue to pack your things, finalizing the last bits of the necessities needed so you can dash out of here the moment the storm calms—

Whenever that is.

You set your bag aside, along with your jacket and shoes before plopping onto your couch to try and get some work done through your phone's hotspot. But, it doesn't last for long when the videos you need to watch won't play and your data won't upload properly. You check the weather to see if there are any gaps in the rain coming soon, but to your luck, there are none.

In fact, it only sounds like the rain will get worse until tomorrow afternoon.

"Fuck." You whine to yourself, feeling scared and alone without your friends around to keep you company. 

Had you listened to your gut and let your work sit for a minute, you wouldn't be in this predicament. 

You try to busy yourself by lighting up some candles, spreading it out within your studio from the kitchen table to your nightstand. You go from trying to take notes under the dim candlelight, to laying in your bed trying to warm up.

Suddenly, a text comes through on your phone. You weren't expecting anything to come through with how shitty and inconsistent the service has been. You grab your phone, assuming it was one of your friends or your mom checking in on you.

You did not think it'd be Choi San.

san: hope you're staying warm and safe, y/n.

Your heart drops and you immediately don't know what to do. Should you respond? Should you continue ignoring him, continue to force yourself to act like San doesn't mean much to you?

Erase that part of your life?

After all these months, he still has the same effect on you. No matter how hard you try to hide it, your feelings for him haven't gone anywhere.

you: trying to. i hope you are too.

He doesn't answer right away, but that's only because he wasn't expecting a response. He was fully convinced you hated him since the last time you spoke, yet that hasn't stopped him from thinking about you every single day. Especially now, when the storm is at its peak. You're alone, and he's alone. He misses you. 

He's pulled out of his thoughts when you follow up with another text, and he almost feels like this could be a window to talk to you and see how you've been doing. He's been itching to talk to you again.

you: do you have power?

san: i do. do you need anything? just saw the university message about part of the residence halls being out of power.

you: um, no. i think i'm okay.

san: you sure? did they say when it'll come back up?

you: no clue.

san: you can hang out here if you want. i'll give you space.

you: i'll think about it. thank you for offering, though.

san: course. let me know. i was actually hoping we could talk at some point.

You pout a bit, setting your phone aside as you try to lean back against your headboard and continue studying. You try to get your mind off of San, believing you can hold out until tomorrow when the rain smoothes over and the storm passes. The longer the power continues to stay off, the colder it gets. The harder the rain and wind get, the more you hate being alone.

What did San need to talk about?

Your curiosity definitely got to the best of you because even though you don't entirely think you're ready for whatever San has up his sleeve, you pick up your phone to text him back anyway. You don't wanna be alone, and even if you don't wanna admit it right now, you'd rather be with him than here.

you: but, it's pretty crazy outside. you'd drive in this?

san: well, yeah. it's tapering off for a bit anyway. do you want me to come?

you: okay.

san: i'll be there in about 15 minutes.

you: pls be careful.

san: i will, love.

You sigh, pinching at your bottom lip to try and understand your feelings right now. Were you excited? Were you nervous? Were you regretting this?

Should you tell him to not leave? Change your mind?

You're so conflicted that it takes up all your time— up until the very moment that San is texting you that he's in his usual spot. A wave of nostalgia washes over you, and obviously, it's too late to turn back now no matter how nervous you are. 

You throw on your huge puffer jacket, throwing on the hood from your hoodie over your head while grabbing your weekender bag, along with your school bag to try and get some work done at San's house. Might as well be productive in a warm place with running hot water, heat and lights.

San is right about the rain; it's a lot lighter than it was earlier, but you know it won't last for long. You hurriedly walk over as the rain continues to fall, swinging his door open and plopping yourself into the passenger's seat— slightly getting the leather wet.

"Hey."

"Hi." You say softly as you settle in, lowering the hood from your face. San feels like his heart is beating out of his chest while he watches you from the side, turning to throw your things in the back before looking at him. "Was it hard driving over?"

"No."

"Hm, okay." You hum. 

"How's it been?"

"Fine, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"Heard you're in the final stages for your transfer to Mirae. Namjoon says it's been crazy busy for you because you're trying to wrap things up before you leave."

"Oh, right." You look down at your hands. "Yeah. Yeah, he's right." You pause. "It has been busy that I've barely had time for myself. All worth in the end, I guess."

"Excited?"

"Not sure yet. I will be, I think."

"Mm. That's great, Y/N. You deserve it." You look at him and furrow your brows before scoffing a bit.

"So, that's it? We're just gonna act like things are fine because you're coming to my rescue during a storm?"

"No, that's not it at all." San looks at you, almost matching your energy. "First of all, I was worried about you. Second, I just wanted to check in and then apologize. Is that so wrong of me to do?"

"You don't have to do all that."

"Well, I want to."

"Apologize for what?" You look directly outside of the windshield, listening and watching as the rain hits the glass harshly.

"The texts and the calls during Mingi's birthday at the bar."

"It's fine."

"Was it? You were kinda brushing me off."

"The last time we spoke before that, you broke up with me and we didn't necessarily part ways on a friendly note."

"I wanted to, but you were angry."

"You decided what was best for me. Without me." You cross your arms and look out the window, feeling the hot tears brimming your lids.

"I didn't come and pick you up to argue." He sighs when he sees the switch in your body language. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry because I know I was out of line and I shouldn't have done things that way. I did mean it, though. Everything I said to you that night. What happened that night didn't mean—"

"What is the point of this, San?" You begin to cry into your hands while sitting in the seat. "I don't know what you want."

"Baby, you know what I want."

"Stop." You whine a bit. "I don't know what you want."

"You. It's always been you." He shakily sighs, his own tears brimming his lids. "I'm sorry, I just— I didn't mean to hurt you, love. You know I didn't. I know you've been angry about it, but I was just trying to do what was best at the time. I was scared, and I didn't want anything to happen to you so I jumped. Baby, please know that." His eyes are burning up, cheeks slightly rosy as he looks at you with concern. With hurt.

With love.

"San, you make this so complicated." You whine as you dig your head into your hands as a dull headache comes on.

"I'm not trying to, sweetheart." He almost matches your tone, gaining frustration from the entire situation all over again. It isn't you, no. It's just the fact that he had to do what he needed to do in order to blow shit over, but that meant spending months away from you— the one person wanted and needed. 

You're pulled out of your own thoughts when the rain starts to pick up again, pounding against the windshield and windows like pellets. You sigh and shake your head, running your hand through your hair.

"Can we just not.. right now? The storm is gonna pick up again, maybe I should just head back—" 

"You can stay at mine. I'll give you space like I promised. Who knows when the generators will be back up." He starts up his car and you don't even protest. "Do you want me to stop by anywhere before heading to the house?"

"It's crazy out here, San. We should just get back to the house." He sighs a bit.

"I'll make you some ramen when we get back." You quietly sit back and watch as San safely navigate the incredibly wet and dangerous roads back to his house. Luckily, it isn't far from campus, and your anxiety lowers when he gets closer to his place. Just as you're about to turn onto his street, the storm picks up quick— the rain hitting the car harshly, making it hard to see through the windshield. But, San finally pulls into his garage, allowing you to release the breath you've been holding during the car ride.

You feel safe again.

You feel safe like you typically do when you're with San. Angry or not— San has always been a safe space for you.

He swings your door open after grabbing your things in the back, giving you space to step out and walk ahead of him. It feels so familiarly unfamiliar walking into his house after months of not doing so, but everything feels the same. It still feels.. safe. Comfortable. 

It looks the same.

"It's warm."

"Good." San chuckles a bit before nodding towards upstairs. "I'll take you to the guest bedroom so you can get comfortable and do whatever you need to do." You nod and follow San upstairs, trying to see if anything has changed. But, nothing has. 

He swings the door open and the bed is still neatly made with its light grey, fluffy duvet, matching sheets and pillowcases. You quietly set your things down while San backtracks out into the hallway.

"Let me grab you a towel." You nod, starting to go through your bag to change into the pajamas you brought— some old christmas pants and an oversized sweater. San comes back into the room with a towel, placing it gently on the edge of the bed. "Here."

"Thank you." You grab the towel, along with your travel pouch and clothes, and head to the guest bathroom to get washed up. You're setting your things down onto the counter when you hear San approaching. He's carrying something in his hand, welcoming himself into the bathroom.

"I, um, have this." San brings a basket full of skincare and hair products that you use. "I took note of the stuff you use so you wouldn't have to keep hauling it over. You know.. back then." You turn to him, surprised he got every detail right.

"San."

"It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, it is. Thank you."

"Course. Do you need anything else?"

"No. This is perfect." He nods. 

"I'll be downstairs." You give him a tiny smile before he walks out and shuts the door to leave you to your peace. You take a moment to go through the basket that San brought in, feeling your heart swell at how incredibly attentive he's always been. 

You miss him so badly, and he's just in the room below.

You shake off the thoughts in your head, stepping into the piping hot shower to finally release all stress and overthinking. You take your time being that San's power seems to be holding on strong, and you're not gonna lie, his shower feels amazing after the busy ass weeks you've been having. You step out after a good 30-mins of extra lathering, exfoliation and scrubbing, really giving yourself the self-care treatment you've been yearning for. You finish up your routine by lotioning up and brushing some treatment through your hair before changing into your pajamas. You step into the room to fix your things, grabbing your laptop and gently tossing it on the bed so you can slowly pick up where you left off earlier—

"Nice pajamas." San stands by the door with a bowl and water in his hands, making you roll your eyes.

"I was supposed to head to my mom's, not yours." You pout and it makes San bite his lip to prevent himself from teasing you even more about your mickey mouse Christmas pajamas. "Don't make fun of me."

"No, it's cute." He sets the bowl of ramen on the nightstand near the bed. "Made you a bowl."

"Thank you." He nods.

"I'm gonna be next door in my office to finish up some things. Will you be okay in here?"

"Yeah, I will be."

"Well, you're welcome to pop in if you need anything. Help yourself to anything downstairs, too. You can just leave the bowl in the dishwasher."

"No worries. Thank you, San." You say softly as you sit on the edge of the bed. He nods and locks eyes with you for a moment, a soft gaze on his face before he grabs at the door handle. He slowly shuts the door, almost pained having to do so.

He wishes he didn't have to, he wishes he didn't have to keep this door between you two. Those walls.

And you do, too. But, you're too scared to say it. Because if you say it, how will you overcome these feelings? You shouldn't even be here in the first place since you've done so well minding your own business while burying your feelings for San. You've done so well, and now, you're here. Threatening to reverse all of that work. You just weren't sure where this would take you two and the uncertainty kills you.

In the end, what if it just never really works out? What would've all of this been for?

You shake the thoughts out of your head, eating the delicious ramen San made you before chugging most of your water bottle. It gives you enough energy to power through the work you couldn't complete earlier in your studio due to the power going out. You can hear San hopping on a few phone calls, one being with Jongho. You hear San's deep voice talking through a lot of key points during some of these calls. You try to focus your way through most of your work, trying to ignore how awfully attractive San sounds through the walls.

Then, it gets quiet. And you know he's busying himself, too. 

When in reality, San is wondering when he could talk to you a little more. He can't stop thinking about how cute you look in those pajamas. How much he just wanted to hug you and hold you close. 

To just be with you.

But instead, he lets out an audible sigh and continues working on his presentation for this meeting coming up for a new grant he's close to being rewarded. It takes him about another 45 minutes before he's done for the evening. He shuts off his computer and fixes his desk before heading out of his office to get cozy.

You don't really hear San moving around as much, so you figured he was deep in his work that you could head downstairs, clean up your dishes and grab another water bottle for the night. When you swing the door open, the door to San's office is open, and so is the room. You don't see San around, but you do faintly hear the shower going. You quietly shut the door and head down the steps with the dishes and empty water bottle in hand, instantly tossing the bottle into San's recycling bin. You wash the dishes instead of leaving them in the dishwasher, setting them neatly on San's drying rack next to the sink. Afterward, you dig into San's fridge for a new water bottle, quickly eyeing how stocked his fridge is.

"Hey." He looks at you as he comes down the steps slowly, running a small towel across his wet hair. Your eyes can't help but fall to his bare chest for a short moment, a shirt hanging on his broad shoulder. "Sorry, wasn't expecting you to be down here right at this moment." You shut the fridge door.

"Just wanted to grab some more water and wash your dishes." He nods.

"Is it too cold for you upstairs? Do you want me to turn up the heat?"

"No, it's alright. Thanks." He brushes past you, the scent of his body wash lingering in the air. He digs into the fridge and pulls out his own water bottle before twisting the cap open and taking a sip. You find yourself stuck in your position until thunder roars outside, lightning following shortly afterward. 

"Jeez." San says, looking at the weather outside. "Yeah, you definitely wouldn't be having a good time at your place in this."

"Not at all." He cocks his head to the side, trying to read the quiet tone you respond with.

"You scared of thunder?"

"No." You look at him with a look. "Not really." He cocks a brow up, still shirtless a few feet away from you. "Kinda. It's just really loud." He chuckles a bit.

"Well, you're safe here." You silently nod.

"Aren't you cold or something?" You avoid eye contact as you take another sip of your water.

"Not really. Why? Is this bothering you?" He smirks a bit and you roll your eyes.

"Please."

"Just curious." Is all he says with the smirk still on his face while taking another sip. You should be heading upstairs to mind your own business and sleep, distancing yourself from San like you had originally planned.

But, you can't.

And he can tell.

He stands in the kitchen, watching as you pause in your steps, turning back to face him.

"San?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Can I.. ask you something then?"

"What's up?" He gently sets his bottle back down, slipping into his t-shirt. Finally, you think. It's hard when your attraction to him hasn't faded one bit.

"About that night.. with Zara."

"Oh." He simply says, leaning against the counter. "What about that night?"

"Did you mean that part?" You step closer to him. "You know, about the kiss."

"I did. It shouldn't have happened in the first place, and there was just a misunderstanding between us. I never meant to lead her on or anything, but I think she might've mistaken my actions for feelings."

"Oh." He sees you deflate a bit and he reaches out to brush your hair back. He does it slow, though. In case you don't want him near you, or you retract. But, you don't. You look at him like you've been needing him the same way he's needed you, and it relaxes him a bit.

"Y/N, I promise. It didn't mean anything. She kissed me first and I didn't really have time to react right away. It sounds stupid, and I was drunk. But, it meant nothing to me. And I told her the truth." His hand rests on your cheek and you lean into his touch. "Even throughout all of that, I just felt even more.. lonely and empty without you, I didn't really know how to cope with it."

"It made me feel like you two had something going on."

"No." He says softly. "I'm sorry, angel. I didn't mean to make you sad or upset over that." You pull away from his touch and look down at your feet.

"That's okay."

"Is it?" You nod. "I'm sorry for the way I came off that night, too. I didn't mean to overwhelm you or anything."

"That's okay, San." You respond close to a whisper.

"I thought you were done with me."

"No. I've just been doing what you insisted in the first place." He sighs, his hand dropping down from your cheek.

Things shouldn't be this complicated, and he's afraid he doesn't care much about the repercussions anymore. Time has passed, and his feelings haven't changed.

It shouldn't be like this.

"Anyway. Should probably head back upstairs." There's a sense of defeat in your tone and San can feel it, too. He simply nods, fighting with himself to gain the courage to just ask you to join him in bed tonight so you can talk, catch up. 

So he can say sorry.

So he can get you back.

Because that's all he wants, and that's all he's ever cared for.

Why he chose today in particular, he isn't sure. But, the storm, the gloomy days and the rain all reminded him of the way he'd be feeling lately and how tired he was of it.

San quietly follows you up the steps, every step closer and closer to shattering through the invisible glass floor he walks on.

Fuck this.

"Hey. Why don't you—" San begins, but it comes out at the same exact time you hit him with the—

"Actually. Is it okay if I join you?" The both of you pause, looking at each other with a sort of need, a sort of long time longing and yearning.

"You sure?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah, of course." You rub at your arm as you slowly walk into the room after him, awkwardly standing at the end of his bed as if you hadn't slept there before. "You can get comfortable, Y/N. You don't have to do that."

"Sorry, it's just been awhile."

"That's okay." He pulls back the covers and gives you a moment to slip in before he does. He adjusts a bit, making sure to leave some space in between in case you were uncomfortable, but the distance only has you feeling empty. Lonely. "Gotta make sure the thunder doesn't get you."

"Funny." You turn to him and glare, making him laugh a bit. The photo on his nightstand catches your attention— it's a photo you two took on your trip to the Baskin Conference. He must have caught on because his eyes travel down to the photo and he smiles toothlessly.

"It's my favorite picture."

"It's mine, too." You respond softly while looking at San in front of you. His eyes are roaming around, eyeing your features. "So, are you and Zara still friends?" He shrugs.

"I don't really know. I haven't talked to her. It's pretty awkward and I know I hurt her, so I don't know if she necessarily wants me around."

"Sorry."

"Don't be."

"She's always had it for you, San. And I almost thought you two were better off. I thought it'd end up that way when we broke up." He shakes his head.

"Nah. I've only been concerned about one person and that has never changed since everything happened." He says, close to a whisper. His hand comes to your cheek again, gently caresses the surface with his thumb. The space in between you two feels so cold, and it makes you realize you don't wanna be this far from San.

You don't want anything to keep you two apart anymore.

"I wanna talk to you about that day, too. When we were in the car."

"Okay." 

"There were so many things happening that I just needed to protect you from." He brushes the hair away from your face. "Please know that I never wanted it to happen, and that I never had any plans to leave. I just had to do what was right because I was scared for you first and foremost. I didn't want you to get hurt, I didn't want anything to happen to you."

"I know, San. I'm sorry." You whisper. "I was too hurt to realize it at first, but I know you were just trying to protect me and do what was best." He licks his lips and continues to maintain eye contact.

"But, trust me. I wouldn't have if I truly didn't have to, angel. You were and have always been the most important person. That hasn't changed." You lean into his touch, turning your head to gently lay a kiss on the palm of his hand— scooting into his arms when he pulls you into them.

And it feels like home all over again.

"San."

"Yeah, love?"

"I don't wanna do this anymore."

"I don't either." You feel the tears welling up in your lids, a few already streaking down your cheeks. The only difference this time around is that San is here to wipe it away, to comfort you, to physically reassure you that he has always been here regardless of the circumstances.

"I'm tired of crying over you, I'm tired of missing us."

"I hated seeing you cry. I don't want you to cry."  He whispers.

"Then, what're we supposed to do, San?" You ask at a whisper and he continues to cup your cheek.

"You're transferring, love. Things will change, and I don't think it'll be as bad as it was before."

"I know, but we shouldn't be reckless anymore. Regardless if I'm transferring."

"I won't. We won't. I can't keep going like this, baby. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do and I don't wanna do it anymore." He shakes his head. "I can't lose you for good. I can't."

"You won't."

"Good, cause I don't plan to." He says lowly, caressing your cheek before bringing your lips to his for a sweet, soft kiss.

You missed this, and you missed San. And your body must have too, because it reacts instantly to his touch. His kiss.

He holds you close, his body heat keeping you warm under the sheets. He cups your cheek and presses soft, feathery kisses to your eye, cheek.

Nose.

Lips.

"Missed you, sweetheart."

"Missed you too, Sannie."

"Yeah?" He whispers, continuing to plant sweet kisses across your face, down your neck.

Soon, your shirt is off and so is San's. He takes his time caressing your body, feeling every inch that he can. 

Lips gently dragging across your skin like a paintbrush against the canvas; painting you with sweet, love marks— kisses that are meant to close and heal each wound from the past months.

You and San take your time indulging in each other. The kisses are slow, the touches are gentle. The actions are sweet. He hovers over you, careful not to put his entire weight down while he kisses down to your chest— tongue swirling around your perked buds one at a time before gently pulling back with a pop. His thumb is slowly rubbing at your heat as he continues his trail down, two digits slipping in just to feel how wet you are for him— how ready you are for him. His lips are grazing yours as he slightly picks up the pace; just enough for you to feel his fingers curling at the right spots, dragging them in and out at a overwhelmingly pleasurable pace to start you off.

He takes his time. His focus is on you, not himself.

When you beg him to keep going, he teases you a bit with his cock— slipping and sliding in between your folds with intention, nudging his tip ever so slightly into your entrance before repeating his motions a few more times. He lets out a low moan when he sees how much you're yearning for him, how much your eyes are pleading him for him to give you more and more— slowly easing himself into the space that was made for him and him only until he bottoms out, your pussy swallowing him whole. He pauses for a second, now lowering himself back down onto your body so he can hold you close. The both of you wrap your arms around each other as he starts at a slow and steady pace— letting you feel every inch of him, every part of him that missed you so terribly and so deeply. 

He praises you in your ear, keeping you close, holding you close; making sure he won't ever let you go again. Everything about it is so sensual, so intimate, and there's nowhere else you'd rather be than in San's arms. He continues slowly, deeply, laying more kisses across the skin of your neck and jaw.

Back up to your cheeks, eyes.

Nose. 

Lips. 

“Can you be a good girl and turn around for me, baby? Hm?” He says and hums lowly. “Please.” He pleads, just as he presses his lips onto yours for a heated, open-mouthed kiss. You do as he asks, flipping onto your stomach while you press your cheek against the pillow. His large hands roam up your body, leaving kisses in a fiery trail from your lower back— up to your shoulder blades and the sides of your neck. He reconnects your bodies as one, your mouth falling agape as he lets out a deep moan. You’ve got a leg bent up, with the other straight— San’s hands resting on your thigh and hip as he slides his thick cock in and out of you. He’s quick to find his rhythm, moans and repeated whines filling the walls of the bedroom.

"Y/N." San lowers himself to grip your chin, back pressed against his chest. He whispers in your ear as he rolls his hips into you from behind harshly, an arm now wrapped around you to keep you as close as possible.

"Sannie." You breathe out repeatedly. He pants, the low moans and whimpers echoing in the space of the room. 

Bodies slick with sweat. 

San moves to the side, pressing his lips against your temple just before letting out another guttural groan at the way your walls squeeze him so perfectly, pushing him right at the edge.

Heaven sent.

"Y/N." He repeats your name, his words are choked; he feels himself tipping over, coil ready to snap any second. His dick slick with your wetness every time he drags in and out. "I love you." He says. "I love you, baby." He repeats over and over, and over, and over again. Until it sinks into your skin, into those wounds. 

Until it bleeds deep into your soul.

"I love you too, San."

In the following weeks, you find yourself busy as can be in Professor Kim's lab. You were able to pull your transfer application and all the required documents together within the two week timeframe given, along with participating in meetings with Professor Qi to slowly start getting yourself acclimated to her lab, her work and the clinical department you'd be working heavily in.  

To say you are exhausted would be an understatement.

But, having San back by your side helps a lot. 

You and San have been very secretive about your relationship for very obvious reasons; despite you pretty much having the transfer in your pocket and being the next step in your career, you were still scared. You stopped having San pick you up on campus, opting to drive to his place and slipping your car into the garage while San would leave his cars out. You wouldn't mention San to anyone, you wouldn't talk about his lab, you wouldn't do anything except focus on yourself, your work in Professor Kim's lab and making preparations to move.

After hours— it was different.

Barely can keep your hands off of each other within the walls of San's home, making up for lost time. Constantly in each other's space, afraid to let go in case the other wanders too far away. But, you could never. San could never.

"Sannie." You giggle when San wraps his arms around you from behind and kisses you against the forehead, cheek, jaw. His hands roam around your body, caressing and squeezing every inch he possible can. 

"Why are you rushing out?"

"Uh, because I have things to do. Like you do." You laugh.

"5 minutes."

"5 minutes and we'll both be late. No." He whines and pouts.

"No fun."

"I'll see you later, yeah?" You turn to face him after getting your things together. "Have a good day." San continues to pout.

"You too, baby." You laugh and start heading out of the room. San follows, tying the tie around his neck properly. "What time are you planning to come, anyway?"

"I promised my friends I'd get dinner with them, so after?"

"Hm." He hums. "Okay, love."

"But, at least I won't have an early start tomorrow."

"Thank god. Cause I got plans for tonight." You smile and caress his chin before giving him another quick peck to the lips. 

"I love you." You say softly when you pull back briefly.

"I love you, too." San smiles, losing his pout completely when he hears you say those words. It could literally fuel his entire day— which, he'll need with all the back-to-back meetings he has today.

When you get to campus, you head straight to class— grabbing a parfait on the way over. It seems to be a pretty busy day on campus, being that it was nearly impossible to find parking, and all your favorite quick cafés seemed to be packed with people. You find that there are multiple symposiums going on, along with other important events around campus. Class isn't too bad, and it goes by a lot quicker with the last half being small group breakouts and assignments that need to be completed before class ends. Afterward, you hurry on to the lab, hoping to snag one of the small conference rooms for your check-in with Professor Qi.

Except, you run into a minor roadblock— one that you very much want to confront head on instead of ignoring it like you typically do.

"Professor Lee?" You turn to Iseul as you tuck your books to your chest. She turns over her shoulder to look at you, brows knitted tightly together as if she's already annoyed that you're calling for her attention. And if she is, you couldn't give a fuck. Because she isn't gonna like what's gonna come out of your mouth next, and you hope it finally sinks into her thick ass skull.

"Yes?" She checks her watch. "Can we make this brief? I'm heading to a meeting."

"Don't worry, I don't care to take up much of your time." You give her a small smile. "Thank you for your support with my move to Professor Qi's lab at Mirae. Seems like after all the trouble you went through to try and air out my business, it only brought me to better opportunities. I'm not going anywhere and so isn't San." She's glaring at you now, watching your every move in total disgust.

"Very bold move of you to come up to me and waste my time on the way to a meeting."

"Also very bold of you to meddle in his business after everything you've put him through."

"You have no right to speak on that."

"And you had no right to involve yourself in something that doesn't concern you." You pause. "Just so we're clear on this." You step a little closer and tilt your head to the side. "You can do whatever you want, however you want. I'm not gonna let you take his happiness away again." She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, turning to her watch again.

"I’ll assume this is done." You give her a toothless smile before she storms off, pulling her phone out of her pocket. Although she probably won't give this another thought, you felt accomplished having released that from your chest. But little do you know, she hates it, and she hates it because she only thought she was doing the right thing.

Now, she's the enemy and everyone sees her and Yunho as that.

you: hey.

You pull out your phone as you scurry along to the conference room, still having enough time to spare before your check-in with Professor Qi. San texts back almost instantly even though he's definitely in a Zoom meeting right now, making you chuckle to yourself.

He will always make time for you, regardless.

san: hey baby. what's up?

you: sorry, wasn't expecting you to answer mid-meeting.

san: it's alright, i can do both. you okay?

you: i am.

you: i just wanna say i really appreciate you, san.

san: all of a sudden? 😂 i appreciate you too, love. more than you know.

you: yeah. 🥹 i love you.

san: i love you too, sweet girl.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme @wyrated @randajjjad

[kmomof4]

12 (Actually 13) Days of Captain Swan Fic Recs!!!

It is time for Day 4 of my 12 (Actually 13) Days of CS Fic Recs!! Today, I'm reccing one of my longest read authors. I started reading fan fiction in late spring of '16, and @snowbellewells already had quite a list of fics on fanfiction.net, so I dove in and read everything she had posted. And I've read everything she's written since then as well. Her writing is some of the most beautifully descriptive out there and if you haven't read her fics, you are seriously missing out!!

As the co-author of the Girls Vacay Fics, they are of course at the top of the list of my favorite fics of hers!!!

And now for my favs of Marta's solo fics!!!

A Year in the Court of Misthaven - Rated M - An AU collection of Lieutenant Duckling vignettes taking place over the course of a year; set in an Enchanted Forest where Regina never cast the curse, Emma grew up as the Princess she would have been, and fell in love with a bright and promising young naval lieutenant...

Moonlit Ghosts - Rated G - May have been written and posted in the spring, this one is set in and perfect for Spooky Season!!!

The Storybrooke crew has enough time and peace to plan a little Autumn revelry aboard the Jolly Roger for the kids of the town. The young Author, the librarian, and Emma and Killian, work together to provide some Halloween thrills and chills as well as a haunting story...

Run to Me (In the Dead of Night) and sequel Face to Face in the Broad Daylight - Both rated T - Written for the first and second CSSNS back in '18 and '19. WEREWOLVES!!!!!!

Emma Swan really just wanted to keep her newfound son safe, get to know her parents at last, and be a good deputy to the rest of the town of Storybrooke. She certainly didn't count on chaos breaking loose with the return of magic and restored memories, learning that werewolves are real, or dealing with a handsome loner she can't seem to resist...no matter how much she wants to. As it turns out though, she may need him - secrets and all - to survive and triumph over their combined enemies.

Start of the Dance - Rated G - Emma enjoys one of the good moments with her father before turning to the one she will have by her side from now on... (Post S3 finale, lots of fluffy goodness)

A Private Revolution - Rated T - On the eve of Revolution, when it seems his whole world is falling down around him, nobleman Killian Jones is given a wonderful reason to keep fighting for his life.

Here In Our Time - Rated M - Written for my bday back in '20

Emma brings a bit of their encounter in the past into the present for her husband...

Over the Realms and Through the Woods, to Arendelle We Go - Rated G - Emma and Killian take their crew on a holiday road trip to visit old friends and make new Christmas memories…

And several more fics that I had to leave off... again, readable length post... I hope you enjoy all these and I'll see you tomorrow for Day 5!!!

[sappholovell]

Fic Masterlist

I don't know if there's internet etiquette for this, but it might be useful to keep all my stuff in one place?? Maybe???

Dark Rise by CS Pacat:

I Wanna Be The Last Thing Anybody Ever Sees - A Dark Rise modern magic AU series. Occasional archive warning for depictions of gore and violence.

Crawling Back to You - A Beauty and the Beast AU, archive warning for occasional depictions of gore and violence. TW are included by chapter.

All For the Game by Nora Sakavik:

No Plan - Part road-trip fic, part Riko redemption, with a heavy side of Jeaneil. Set four years before canon.

Sunlight - Part two of No Plan, in which Neil and Jean want to date Andrew despite all of his darkness. Riko, meanwhile, struggles to understand what getting better actually means.

Fight and Fury - Kandriel Mulan AU including trans Neil.

Just As It Was - An aftg/Raven Cycle crossover, still the only Noah Czerny/Jean Moreau fic on the archive.

Legendborn by Tracy Deonn:

Raised on Little Light - A canon-divergent AU where Nick gets amnesia after the end of book 1. It's a Nick/Bree/Sel fic, completely finished.

Hold Me Like A Knife - Set post-canon, multi-pov fic where Sel accidentally fakes his own death. Bree/Sel/Nick, two chapters, finished fic.

A Court of Thorns and Roses:

The Hall of the Mountain King - A queer ACoTaR-critical rewrite where Feysand is sapphic. It's a mix of the parts that I found interesting and the lore that I thought needed to be cleaned up.

This Fatal Kiss:

The Trees Deny Themselves Nothing That Makes Them Grow - Basically a horny possession fic that I scraped a modicum of romance together for.

Come and Get Some - A day in Kazik's life. Post-canon, featuring him being absolutely down BAD for Gisela

[star-my]

Ateez Fic Recs ☆ Ao3

These are all available on ao3 as of April 2024. Some may require an account to view them. Some are likely crossposted on tumblr as well.

~TUMBLR RECS HERE~

Almost all are complete works, those with “+” after WC are incomplete.

Most of these are Mature or Explicit (usually because of smut) ~ mdni ~ italicized titles rated G or T ~ Please read responsibly

OT8/Multi

☆ Raise, Protect, and Hope by SinisterSound | Found Family, Mafia/Assassin AU | Platonic OT8 | 49k

☆ He's a Pirate series by pearlypearlypearl | Pirate AU, Magic AU | 70k

☆ The So Unknown series by themoonlightfae | F2L Vampire AU, Found Family AU | 110k+

☆ sticky by maganxx | FWB2L Roommate AU, Uni AU, Omegaverse AU | PSH + KHJ | 15k

☆ A Fever You Can't Sweat Out by to_shinestar | F2FWB Roommate AU | CS + JWY | 12k

Kim Hongjoong

☆ <<Do you believe in fate?>> by LettersFromAphrodite | Magic AU, Soulmate AU | 42k

☆ Plug & Play by bangtanintotheroom | Band AU | 10k

☆ Say My Name by twinmoles | Demon AU | 8k

☆ Hearts Over Clubs by starryjeekies | S2R2L Mafia AU | 28k

Park Seonghwa

☆ Kiss of Chaos by tenelkadjo | Magic AU, Witch AU, Annoyances/Enemies with Benefits to Lovers? | 40k

☆ Arrow in the Dark by tenelkadjo | S2F2L Fake Dating AU, Chaebol AU | 66k

☆ Properly by tenelkadjo | BFF2L Fake Dating AU | 10k

☆ Addicting Kitten by tenelkadjo | S2L Goth AU | 34k

☆ hearts & spades by wooyunhwa | S2FWB2L Mafia AU | 30k

☆ My Precious Pet series by yungidreamer | S2F2L Vampire AU | 26k+

Jeong Yunho

☆ the summer series by honeyhotteoks | F2FWB2L Roommate AU, Quarantine AU | 16k+

Kang Yeosang

☆ lessons in intimacy by honeyhotteoks | Camboy AU | 14k

☆ Gemini by HoneyAteez | F2L | 9k

Choi San

☆ forever and a bit. by the7thcrow | Demon AU, Mafia AU | 5k

☆ Control by Destriny | F2L Demon AU, Uni AU | 29k

☆ Sunrise by thecarnivaloflies | F2L Military AU, Dystopian AU | 30k

Song Mingi

☆ All In by tenelkadjo | BFF2L Vegas AU | 10k

☆ Steamroller by fallinforgyu | BFF2L Uni AU | 11k

☆ September, I'll Remember by I_Dont_Write_Fics | F2L Road Trip/Camping AU | 33k

☆ Love to Keep Me Warm by themoonlightfae | S2F2L Hallmark AU | 28k

☆ Diversity Hire by superbumpy | PA AU, Office AU | 13k

☆ Synesthesia by themoonlightfae | S2F2L Neighbours AU | 15k

Jung Wooyoung

☆ Midnight Kisses by mingigoo | BFF2L Single Parent AU | 28k

☆ Steady Opposites by PeachzensBread | R2L Uni AU | 12k

☆ For The Longest Time by themoonlightfae | BFF2L/S2L Tinder AU | 5k

Choi Jongho

☆ {Unavailable}

[sanjoongie]

FFF~ Day 15

♡Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Reader (f)

♡Genre: Smut with no plot :)

♡Au: ninja, enemies to lovers 

♡Word Count: 4,732 (i'm sorry i get wordy with this hoe)

♡Warnings: size kink, public sex(gasp in the onsen!), use of the term little one, a lot of size kink dirty talk, size comparison etc, sex with no barrier, pull out method, f and m orgasm, slight aftercare

♡Rated: 18+ MDNI

♡Masterlist link~ | Previous Day~ Dom and Sub, CS/KHJ | Next Day~ Sadism, KHJ

♡Dedication~ @downtoamagicalland & @mejuii the unholy trinity beta team

“Are you going to let me do all the work here, Seonghwa?” You demanded through gritted teeth.

You and Seonghwa had been put together as a team to protect a special scroll that was being transported from an ancient location to the village for better protection. A gang of bandits looking to steal the scroll and sell it had bombarded you. Seonghwa sat on top of the chest, his bigger than life brush at his side, looking like he was genuinely bored, while you fought tooth and nail so that the bandits couldn't even touch the chest. 

“I’m guarding the goods. Besides, didn’t you say you didn’t need any help from me?” Seonghwa cocked an eyebrow at you.

You blocked the oncoming attack with your blade and then used your water jutsu to summon a wave and wash the bandits away. You panted at the exertion, your chakra practically drained. “You could have painted anything to help me, Seonghwa. This is why I didn’t want this mission, you’re so fucking lazy!”

“Lazy?” Seonghwa finally sounded like he cared, “I am lazy in none of my endeavors.”

You rolled your eyes and put your blade in your pouch. “You’re probably even a damn pillow princess.”

Seonghwa stood up, pushing his sleeves back. “Did you just assume what I was like in between the sheets based off of how this fight panned out?”

You raised your chin stubbornly. “Am I wrong?”

Mingi, the third to your team, broke through the bush at the perfect moment. “The leader got away.” His eyebrows furrowed when he looked at you and Seonghwa. “Are you guys fighting again?”

You turned your head. “We’re not fighting,” You denied.

“We’ll settle this later,” Seonghwa vowed.

Mingi looked worried, glancing at the two of you the entire trip back to your village. The tension could be sliced with a blade and it made Mingi anxious but, neither you nor Seonghwa said a word to each other. You reported to your leader of the bandits but none were captured. He made a note and said he would send a few teams to search the forest for the bandits and eliminate them. You nodded and then were dismissed.

“So…wanna grab some food for a job well done?” Mingi wondered.

You shook your head. “I’m going to head to the baths and then sleep.”

“But--” Mingi attempted to protest but you were already strolling away, waving goodbye.

“I have training to do,” Seonghwa said curtly and then Mingi was alone on the road. His instincts told him something was going on between you two but he had nothing to base it on. 

“Hey!” Seonghwa’s long legs allowed him to catch up with your fast stride easily, “Why didn’t you report to our captain that I’m a lazy team member?”

“Reports are unbiased, Seonghwa,” You retorted, “Captain doesn’t want to hear my opinion on you.”

“Tiny thing like you, who would have thought you have so much fire in you,” Seonghwa taunted you, his arms crossed behind his head as he walked in stride with yours. 

“Me being smaller than you has nothing to do with my attitude,” You sneered, “You are so dense.”

“I’m surprised you easily fought the bandits,” Seonghwa admitted, “Usually most men take advantage of a size difference.”

You scoffed, “Size has nothing to do with physical capabilities.”

Seonghwa smirked, “I beg to differ.”

“Ew, Seonghwa, really?” You stopped dead in your tracks to send him a proper dirty look.

His grin widened at your reaction, “I could prove it to you.”

“I don’t th--!” 

In a flash, Seonghwa had you pinned against the wall of a nearby building. One hand easily held your wrists pinned above your head, the other tilted your head to keep eye contact with you. One leg was in between yours to halt you from kicking out with your legs. “This is what I’m talking about, Little Flower. Some men can’t help themselves but use their size to their advantage.”

You sported a bored expression on your face. “Oh no, I’ve been caught by a man who thinks he’s better than me. Whatever shall I do,” You deadpanned.

Seonghwa’s features tightened at your mockery. “I’ll have you--”

You broke Seonghwa’s grip on your hands by yanking your arms downwards. You placed those newly freed hands on his shoulders, pulling yourself up and somersaulting over his head, landing softly on your feet. Seonghwa’s lips were set in an ‘o’ of surprise. “And that’s how you use your small stature as an advantage. You underestimated me and I know how to throw my weight.” You rolled your shoulders and cracked your neck. “Now, can I go to the baths unmolested, or are you going to insist that your,” You made quotation marks as you said, “monster cock is too big for me.”

“You can’t take it,” Seonghwa insisted quietly. All his arrogant demeanor deflated from his body. “I’ve had girls complain. Why do you think I keep them at arm's length from me?”

That was food for thought. Seonghwa practically had every girl sighing over him, yet you didn’t know of one who could boast that they were his lover. That was odd.

“See?” Seonghwa’s head bowed in defeat.

You raised your chin stubbornly. “I still bet it wouldn’t be a problem for me.”

Seonghwa’s gaze met yours, steely and a little angry. “Don’t even joke about that, Little Flower.”

“Who’s joking?” You said, raising your eyebrow to challenge him.

That’s how you wound up in the baths, late at night when no one was around. Seonghwa had insisted that it was not him impaling you with his cock but you showing him that you could take it. He was clearly emotionally scarred from whatever sexual encounter he had previously. Had the girls insisted that he was too rough, when in actuality they simply weren’t used to his size? Seonghwa was lying flat on the dark wood of the baths, pink hair slightly fanning around his head, guard up for the inevitable.

You towered above him, a foot beside his hips, your soft robe sliding slightly off your shoulders. “I have to get wet Seonghwa, otherwise, it’s going to hurt me. So I suggest you touch yourself so that you’re hard and ready for me.”

Seonghwa scoffed at you, “So clinical when you’re fucking me.”

“To make a point,” You clarified, “I don’t want a member of my team having a bad reputation for hurting girls. It’ll reflect on the team.”

You pulled your robe up your legs until your cunt was exposed. With one free finger, you wetted it with your saliva and then began to play with yourself. Seonghwa’s eyes were like a hawk, watching all your movements. You teased your clit with the tip of your finger, moving it around and around, urging it to get swollen with desire. When you felt your nipples tighten, you reached inside your robe to play with your breast. You let out soft mewls, used to be quite vocal when playing with yourself.

As it turned out, Seonghwa didn’t need to stroke himself to get hard. The sight of you, above him, touching yourself was enough for him. His cock tented his robes, so he simply pulled his robes apart slightly so that his cock was free from the constraints. 

You dipped a finger into your hole, swirling around before pushing one finger into yourself. Seonghwa’s eyes widened as he watched you insert a second one. Your eyebrows furrowed as you scissored yourself, stretching and pushing your walls to prepare for Seonghwa’s cock. Because once you had a glimpse of it, you started to get excited. Surely he was big enough for you to feel stuffed and you wanted that, regardless that the cock was attached to Seonghwa, your lazy teammate who barely lifted a finger for you earlier. 

“Hold yourself upwards for me, Seonghwa,” You commanded him. “I’ll start now.”

Your knees hit the floor beside Seonghwa’s hips and you felt Seonghwa’s head nudge your nether lips. You began to sink down on his length and you moaned. Immediately, Seonghwa’s hands were on your hips to stop you. He had mistaken your moan of pleasure for one of pain.

You shook your head, “Hwa, it’s fine. I like it.”

Seonghwa was confused for a moment before a satisfied smile pulled at his lips. “Do you actually like a big cock?”

Your quiet cries as you further sunk down diminished your scowl. “Be quiet. I’m concentrating.”

Seonghwa’s thumbs began to stroke your hip bone, looking to soothe you. “Look at how well you take me. You’re such a tiny thing and yet your cunt is stretching and accommodating me.” When he bottomed out inside of you, Seonghwa looked up at you in admiration. “You’re amazing.”

You bounced experimentally and you both cried out in pleasure. “Oh gods,” You cursed softly. You hadn't expected it to feel that good. You hadn't expected Seonghwa to not have exaggerated his size. You should have realized the tall man was also big in other areas.

“You feel so good,” Seonghwa admitted. He bit down on his lip and bucked up into you. 

“Seonghwa!” You scolded him. “I thought I was proving something to you?”

“Can you take me? Can you take it all?” Seonghwa wondered, his demeanor changing once again. Caution was thrown to the wind. No other woman had allowed him to give his all and he was suddenly ravenous for it.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course I can, what do you take me for?”

Just like earlier when he had pinned you against the wall, quickly Seonghwa changed positions, with you on the floor and him bracing above you. His grin was boyish and excited but his eyes were dark with lust. “Let me fuck you? I’ll show you the appeal of being tiny under a man.”

You glared up at him. “Are you mocking me right now?”

Seonghwa shook his head, strands of hair falling into his eyes and making him blink. “No. You proved to me that there are women who can take a big cock and who like it. Now let me prove to you that little women like you are able to enjoy their small forms.”

You worried at your lip, unsure. This wasn’t what you signed up for. But you had shown to Seonghwa that he wasn’t a monster in bed and he could fuck a woman without hurting her. Perhaps, he could actually return the favor. You did have a chip on your shoulder for being so small and being told you’d never amount to anything as a ninja. Perhaps you could both be healed through this.

You nodded tightly. “Do it. Before I regret it.”

Seonghwa leaned down to kiss you, lost in the moment clearly. “You won’t regret anything, I promise.”

His hips nudged yours as he began to thrust into you. The trusting got choppier as he started to get into it and let loose. Skin slapped against skin and you cried out at how Seonghwa felt inside of you. “Look at me, Little Flower,” He encouraged. His arms were braced on either side of your head. He did appear bigger than you and that made your breath catch in your throat.

“I’m gonna take care of you, little one,” Seonghwa cooed. “Your tiny cunt must be stretched to its limit like this. My big cock fucking this tiny cunt. You’re so wet though, you must love being stretched like this.”

You bit down on your lip. “I like you looming over me,” You admitted.

Seonghwa smiled smugly. “Look!” He roughly pulled aside your robe to reveal your breasts and he squeezed both orbs. “Even your breasts look tiny in my hands. Such a cute little thing you are.”

Your cunt clenched down on him with his dirty talk and Seonghwa’s grin couldn't have gotten wider. “You like it, don’t you? Being tiny for me?”

You couldn't help but nod now. You were really into it. This encouraged Seonghwa even more. He threw your legs over his shoulders and you groaned loudly at the new angle it provided. “I can bend you in half, Little Flower. Do you like that?”

“Yeah,” You whined, “Like it when you bend me in half, Hwa. I’m so tiny and you’re fucking me so well with your huge cock.”

“I bet I could lift you in my arms easily and use your body like I could fuck my hand.” Seonghwa moaned loudly at his own words, “Fuck, Little flower, this is too good.”

Your hands flew to his shoulders and your nails bit into the skin there. “Hwa,” You warned him, “This new angle, it’s--!” another cry screeched out of your throat.

“Gonna come for me?” Seonghwa smirked and then groaned when your cunt clenched down on him again, “Shit, I might come too.”

“Not inside, not inside!” You panted, barely holding your own as Seonghwa’s cock pounded into you.

“Seong-Seonghwa-hwa!” You stuttered his name and then you squealed as your climax blasted through you. 

You whimpered as Seonghwa fucked you through your orgasm and then pulled out of you, spurting on your stomach and mound. He hissed through his own orgasm, dick twitching as he came and came and came. Shit, his come was so much too?

Seonghwa panted over you, scrunching his nose but his eyes sparkled brightly. “Now you’re really going to need that bath.”

Seonghwa held you on his lap, chin on your head, humming as you both soaked in the heated waters of the bath. There was a new camaraderie between you, a healing aura. Perhaps Mingi might stop complaining about the two of you fighting now.

♡Masterlist link~ | Previous Day~ Dom and Sub, CS/KHJ | Next Day~ Sadism, KHJ

[lunacrescentmoon]

Well, it is time.

Cursed Slippers OSD AU by @calcium-cat

Yes I am writing this on the same day as the previous one- if I can make someone happy I shall persevere! This will be based on the birds each of them are.

For the confused or uninitiated, first off go to @calcium-cat 's blog, you'll find a lot of fun stuff there including what this AU is but I shall summarise.

Cursed Slippers is an AU where Cross got Dream some duck slippers, that turned out to be cursed. Dream turned into a duckling, and everyone else in the castle soon followed. My friend and I made it so Error also turned, but he became a humming bird. That way when he crashes, his wings flutter quickly and make the humming sound XD

Now for the bird types:

Dream - Duckling

Night - Goosemare-

Cross - Swan

Dust - Magpie

Killer - Crow(you'll see why I picked Crow over Raven-)

Horror - Rooster

Error - Hummingbird(my friend and I's own touch

-Bird problems and road trips P1-

Where had they gone wrong....

The gang was back to normal, thank stars, but they all had new issues to deal with regarding their new forms. Dust was having... a lot more than the rest though...

He had to keep Cyanide in his cage... all the time.... his bird instincts went wild just with the the scent of the rat. Unfortunately, he couldn't stop it. It became the new darkness in him for a while.

Until he got slapped out of it... by himself...

And then Nightmare found out. He promptly fixed it by setting a scent emitter into Dust's room that nullified any other smell. Dust was then okay with Cyanide.

But the smells didn't change his other issue...

Shiny objects. The magpie in him wanted to take everything. He broke the table trying to get knives and forks, he cracked the van windshield trying to get to a phone that had been left inside, it was Cross', he had done so much to try and get the shiny objects.

That it was becoming a large issue...

See, the gang all wanted to go on a road trip. Killer was... down in the dumps, and needed it.

"A.. road trip?.." Dream asked Cross. He had never heard of it.

"Yeah! It's like an adventure in a car!" Cross exclaimed excitedly. He was just itching to get out on the road. He loved these trips, everyone did truthfully.

It was a release that none of them really got ever since the bird incident. Nightmare had been adamant that would not be healthy because of their new instincts. But, upon seeing Killer so upset over a hit to his pride... he had a change of heart.

Dream smiled brightly, eager to go. Somewhere new was waiting! Finally! His wings flapped in excitement. Horror walked over, his wings tucked behind him calmly and surprisingly the only one that kept his wings fully clean. No one knew why.

"Alright, alright, little duck... we need to get to the van first..." Horror smiled, petting a now pouting Dream.

"Why can't we just walk?" Dream huffed.

"Because I don't want you running off to a water hole and getting hurt." Nightmare chimed in, glaring.

Once everyone... no, ALMOST everyone was in the van, Night noticed an absence.

"Wait, where's Dust?-" and he looked at the windshield... seeing him in his bird form and dive.....

CCRRRAAACCCKKK!!

Night sighed, getting out, managing to pull the magpie off the windscreen and get him into the car. Error held onto the bird, being a surprisingly good carer once he had gotten past the touch thing with help of Dream.

And they set off.

Okay this will be 2 parts- keep an eye out for part 2 later today! ^w^

OSD and CS!OSD belong to @calcium-cat

OGDreamtale belongs to Jokublog

[cssns]

Hello everyone!

Please welcome @justanother-unluckysoul​ to the CSSNS!

Tumblr Name

@justanother-unluckysoul​

How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom?

I'm quite new to it. I started watching the show in 2017 and binged all the previous seasons until I caught up, but I only really got into the fandom side of things last year when I finally joined Tumblr.

When did you start shipping Captain Swan? 

It's hard to pinpoint the exact time I went from "hmm those two would be cute together" (which was my thought their first scene together) to "Emma and Killian belong together and the writers NEED to make that happen," but if I recall correctly it was during season 3a. I was definitely shipping CS when we got that amazing Neverland kiss, and also the "it'll be because you want me" speech. *heart eyes*

What drew you to this event?

I saw a few people I follow were doing it, and as a fan of the supernatural and fantasy genres I was immediately tempted to join in. Also in all honesty, life is kind of boring at the moment and I needed something fun to do!

What inspired your topic?

The TV show Supernatural, and especially the way it ended (I was a bit disappointed with it, honestly). So I thought, why not combine the best bits from two of my favourite shows, and give the Captain Swan version of Destiel the happy ending they deserve?

If you would like to share a snippet/sneak peek/summary of your fic or artwork, please use the space below.

A quick summary of my fic: An AU based on Supernatural. "Emma Nolan has hunted a lot of creatures in her life and there are very few things out there that she hasn’t seen at this point. But there’s one thing that isn’t real – angels. At least, that’s what she thought until the day she met Killian, angel of the lord." Featuring all the fun Captain Swan things, such as: mutual pining, angst, hurt/comfort, a bit of smut, and of course, a happy ending - paired with the Supernatural themes of cheap motel rooms, road trips, monsters and ghosts, and sexual tension between a human and an angel.

What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event?

Seeing all the lovely creations from everyone else!

I have never watched Supernatural (whaaa?), but I’ve seen enough gifs and memes to understand the importance of Destiel. Elsie is dropping her fic June 1st. Make sure to give it lots of love!

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 9/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (the content warnings matter this time!)

Content Warnings:  More nefarious doings from Walsh, and some uhhhh... other side of the law consultation from a certain twin. Also, the beginning of the chapter includes a proper parting "goodbye" between Emma and Killian. ;)

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 |

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 9: Of Reunions and Baggage

There’s a lot to be said for the quiet moments they create while they’re together, and Killian is ever happier for the one they had in his office on Saturday. As the week wears on, both of them get more nervous and distracted for what’s coming for them at the end of the week. While they have two different kinds of anxiety, Killian also knows at this point they’re just feeding off each other’s nerves.

Killian is definitely feeling the pressures of the party looming closer. It’s a simple holiday party; he’s had no hand in planning it which is always a relief to him, but it’s bound to feel bigger because of the stakes involved. The most he’ll have to do is give a small speech and make sure Henry is present, and even that isn’t really his job with Robin and Regina as his new foster family.

Closer to Friday, Killian and Emma spend time at each other’s places getting ready for their trips. He’s flying out on Friday morning with the Mills-Hood clan for a weekend in New York City. His original intentions were to take Emma to the party, then spend a day in the city and an evening together before they drove back on Sunday. With no Emma, he was able to tag along with the others for their trip down. 

Emma, meanwhile, is driving down to Boston with David. Her task is a little more soul-destroying than his is going to be. With that in mind, he accepts the help she gives on picking out his suit and tie, packing them into his travel garment bag and making sure everything is included. 

They spend the next night at Emma’s place, the emotions on the same wavelength but nowhere near as intense as last time they were there, until Killian can finally coax her to sleep with the way his fingers travel through her hair over and over again. 

Much like the last time, one of them is awoken from the gentle persuasion of lips on lips, but this time, Killian is remaking that memory with every intention of sending Emma off on her trip in a lighter mood than she would be. 

The dawn light is just starting to break through, and Emma will have to leave sooner than either of them wants her to, but in the warmth of her bed, they can both pretend that nothing else exists.

With his lips against hers, Killian slowly draws Emma from her sleep. She’s a temptress when she wakes up, as it’s with her inhibitions low that she has no hesitance showing and telling him exactly what she wants. This morning is no different than the other times they’ve woken each other in such ways, as her hands start gently encouraging him downwards.

It was the destination he had in mind, and he’d never deny her anyway, so he easily glides from the kiss to giving proper attention to her neck and chest. He pushes her sleep shirt out of the way in order to spend a little time with her breasts while his hand slips beneath the ridiculous things she calls sleep shorts. He pays close attention to her movements, her breathing, her sounds, and when she’s on the precipice of losing her patience with his pace, that’s when he moves onward again, replacing his fingers with his lips while he slides her shorts down her legs. 

With deliberate motions, he works on coaxing her up to a climax in a slow and steady way. Just when her hands are clutching at his hair, however, he backs off, easing her away from the breaking point while smiling against the barrage of angry noises she makes. 

Twice more he takes her up to the edge of the cliff of pleasure, making sure that she’s on board the whole time even though her noises of aggravation are starting to include the way she grumbles his name. 

By the time he relents and brings her to climax, he’s almost painfully hard and he and Emma are both covered in a thin sheen of sweat. All the way down her chest is pink from the exertion, but she’s the one that pulls him up, and readies him with protection while he’s still catching his breath. With obvious intent, she pushes him onto his back, sliding onto his cock in one easy movement. 

It’s new every time they have sex - the feelings change, or the mood is different - and this time is no exception. She’s a powerhouse on top of him, pulling his hand up to cup her breast while she rides away. Between gasping breaths, she whispers his name, bringing them both close to orgasm with each movement of her hips. 

When her hands clench where they’re positioned on his chest, he knows it’s only a matter of time before she crests again, and so he presses against where they’re joined with his left wrist, planting his feet for better leverage to meet her thrust for thrust and urging her to fall again before he reaches his own. 

It doesn’t take long, and then Emma is grinding down on him in need, falling against his chest when pleasure takes her over one more time. She lazily bites his shoulder as she comes down, finally igniting his own orgasm and he holds her against him with all his strength. When the last drop of him is spent, he relaxes, letting his legs fall back to the mattress but still cradling Emma close to him. 

“You are marvelous,” he whispers against her forehead. 

She sits up, pushing sweaty hair off her face and smiling down at him. “So are you. Hopefully we’ve both made up for the fact that we won’t be spending this weekend together.”

“And there will be more where that came from when we meet up again, love. Meanwhile, we both know David will be here sooner than either of us want him to be,” he informs her, regretting the fact that she’s shifting out of his arms and the comfortable hold her body had on him releases.

She sighs at that, smiling as she climbs off the bed. “You’re right. Stick around until I’m done?”

He nods at her, pulling her back for one more solid kiss before she grabs her robe and heads off down the stairs. 

In the meantime, he cleans up as much as he can and heads down to make coffee and toast for the both of them. 

-x-

Emma is something beyond used to the drive to Boston. Thanks to dating Walsh, the route is so familiar now that it’s almost boring. Okay, so it would be boring if she’d managed to stay awake past ten minutes after they got on the road. But it’s still way too early and Killian did too good of a job of helping her relax this morning, and so she’s out like a light right as David hits his comfortable speed.

She dozes for most of the drive, knowing that the trip is in David’s very capable driving skills. He wakes her up when they’re about twenty minutes away from the address that James gave them, and while she knew he wouldn’t be smack in the middle of downtown, she’s surprised at the suburban feel she’s getting as they get closer and closer. 

“No fucking way,” Emma mutters when they reach the address. 

The house they pull up to is large and sprawling, and nothing at all what she imagined James would be living in. Of course, she mostly imagined he’d live in some seedy apartment building in the shady side of town with some kind of elaborate code system to even get into the lobby. 

But this looks clean and wealthy, and she honestly doesn’t know what to think anymore. 

If she thought she was surprised before, she doesn’t know what she is when James answers the door. 

“Ah, if it isn’t the do-gooders of the family. Come in,” he tells them, still gently bopping as a baby in a harness sleeps against his chest before he moves back into the house. 

Emma looks over to David, who looks back at her with the same wide eyes she knows she has.

“Heat costs money. Get in or get out - either way I don’t care as long as that door is shut.”

At the distant prompting, they finally both move forward, closing the door behind them and taking a moment to remove their boots on the provided mat. With her shoes off first, Emma follows the sounds she can hear and finds James in the kitchen. He’s carefully pulling mugs off a set of hooks beneath the cabinets, while an expensive looking kettle heats on the stove.

“I figured this was a conversation that would do well with some tea. You have a preference?” 

“My boyfriend probably would, but I’ll take any kind you have,” Emma says, moving to sit on one of the stools he gestures towards. David joins just a moment later, settling in next to Emma after offering to help and getting shooed away. 

When James turns back to work on getting the tea ready, all Emma can do is mentally compare the two brothers in her head. James has this whole brooding look going for him, with facial hair that frames his jaw and chin but looks trimmed and maintained. While David usually wears anything in blues, James is dressed in a black shirt and gray slacks - nothing Emma would expect someone to wear casually around the house, but she has no explanations for anything this man does. 

“So why would the two of you need my help when you’re both in law enforcement?” James asks, breaking her from her thoughts.

“It’s Emma that needs the help, actually,” David points out. “You’re a father?”

“This is Robert James. We call him RJ. And he’s king of this household,” James introduces, lovingly stroking the infant’s wisps of hair. “You need me to hack something?”

“Sort of. Yeah. Probably. Okay, definitely.” She’s having a hard time concentrating when she can’t stop staring at the baby attached to the evil twin of her two brothers.

As if sensing this, James huffs and rolls his eyes. With gentle maneuvers, he takes RJ out of the carrier and carefully deposits him in Emma’s arms so swiftly that she doesn’t even have time to protest. She feels the way her lip pouts at the adorable sleeping boy in her arms but she just can’t help it. She’s been hoping for ages that David and Snow were going to have one of their own so she could have a moment like this. She’s an aunt, no matter if she’s in this kid’s life or not. 

“Okay, Auntie Emma. Spill.” 

At the title, no matter how sarcastic he was being, she does almost cry, but takes another moment to look at the sweet innocence in her arms before she starts her explanation.

“Okay shut up and don’t say anything in response to what I’m about to tell you,” Emma finally says. “I was dating a guy down here a couple years ago and it turns out he has this sick website with naked pictures of all the women he’s slept with.”

James stares at her for a second, lifting an eyebrow. When the tea kettle whistles, he goes to retrieve it, pouring equal measures into each of the mugs placed on the island.  “What you’re telling me is that sweet little Emma has porn? On the internet?” 

“James.” The warning tone in David’s voice is evident.

“No no, little brother. I get to take a moment to soak in the fact that mom’s second favorite is involved in a porn scandal, okay?” He stands back, placing his hands on his hips and taking a few deep breaths. “Fantastic. Okay. So you want me to hack the site and delete yours?”

“I want them all deleted. The whole website. But this time I need to know that all digital copies were destroyed. And I’m sure he has physical copies, as well.”

“Tallying this up, we’re looking at breaking and entering, hacking, a nasty virus if needed, and theft of personal property?”

“Personal property that he doesn’t have consent to have.”

James bobs his head in consideration for that. “Okay. You have your needs, and I have mine. I want any cash we find in his place. And David has to watch the baby.”

“What?”

“You can’t bring a baby to a B&E, David. And I’m certainly not bringing my son, either,” James says with almost a straight face. He laughs and shifts out of the way of David’s half-hearted attempt to punch his arm. “So what about you? Where’s your kid?”

“We uh, we don’t have one yet,” David admits. 

“Is everything all right?” James asks, and Emma looks sharply at him, trying to decipher that tone. “I mean, she’s not a prude or anything, right? I remember Snow was a hottie when you met her.”

That’s a more familiar tone. She’s almost sure that there’s a softness to him that wasn’t there before, though. 

“You’re an asshole,” David announces, clearly missing the nuance of the previous statement. “I’m the sheriff. It’s not easy to just take off that amount of time.”

“That sounds like bullshit. You have Emma here as your deputy and the whole town is like two thousand people. You can probably take as much time as you need.”

“How do you know I’m the deputy?” Emma asks, but David speaks a moment later and her question goes unanswered.

“I worry about being a good father. We didn’t have a lot of years with dad and I just… I worry.”

“Dave. If I can keep a baby alive, I’m pretty sure you can.”

“This is a weird energy,” Emma states, unused to the fact that James is being the calm and confident one and David is on shaky ground. 

“Here,” James says, taking RJ from her arms and placing him with David instead. “Follow me. It’s time to put him in his crib. Emma, don’t go through my stuff.”

Of course, the minute he’s out of the room, Emma is up and out of her seat. She wanders the kitchen first, taking a peek into his disgustingly clean fridge and opening a few cupboard doors just to see. 

In the entryway, there are several portraits of RJ looking fresh and tiny. In one, he’s wrapped snugly in a gray blanket, his eyes closed and a peaceful expression on his face. The one next to that has him cradled between two arms, artfully posed so that no little baby bits are exposed due to the lack of clothes. 

“He shit in my hand like ten seconds after that,” James says from directly behind her. There’s such a fondness in his voice that it makes her smile.

“You probably deserved it,” she says, turning and placing a hand on his elbow. “Congratulations. He’s really adorable.”

“Thanks,” is all he says in response, giving her a genuine smile for the first time. 

Returning to the kitchen, they spend a few extra minutes talking as they finish their drinks. They leave David shortly after their mugs are empty, with James reminding him no less than four times to call if there are any problems. 

There’s total silence on the ride over, and James makes sure to park two blocks over just to be safe. It would be so much easier to do this if it wasn’t December and freezing right now, but at least it isn’t snowing. The latch on the door to the building is still broken, which is fine by her since it’s one less thing they have to break into.

“You remember how to do it like I showed you?” James asks, pulling out his lock-pick set and holding it out to her. 

“Don’t you ever tell David I know how to do this or I will hunt you down,” she mutters as she takes the kit and gets to work. 

They split up once inside in order to thoroughly comb the small space Walsh likes to call home. It’s little more than a one-bedroom hovel, barely larger than a postage stamp and definitely not worth the rent he’s paying per month. While James focuses on the computer and getting into the website, Emma goes through every drawer, every closet, every nook and cranny she can find.

She hits the jackpot in his bedroom closet, there in the very back, where a locked box sits on the top shelf. She doesn’t even need the kit to get it open, wiggling the flimsy lock just right and grinning when it pops open. She tries not to look too closely at any of the pictures, but it’s definitely a carefully catalogued collection. She sets it on the bed while she keeps combing through his stuff, only satisfied when every item has been shifted and put carefully back in place. 

Since it’s the middle of a workday, she never expected that they’d have to confront Walsh at all. She’s doing nothing more than waiting for James to finish up at this point when she hears the front door open and close again.

“Fuck,” she mutters, knowing that they can’t exactly hide. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m all done here,” James says. His thumbs hook under the ledge above the keyboard when he goes to push away and his eyebrows draw down for a second. “Almost done,” he adds, lifting the thumb drive that was clearly not meant to be found. He pockets it just as Walsh walks into the room.

-x-

After seeing Emma off, Killian walks back to his place to shower and get ready for his own trip. Since he had to change his whole trip around, he managed to get on to the same flight as Robin and his merry band of family, and they’re picking him up on their way to the airport soon.

The flight is quick, and he takes his time settling into the hotel room; he’s in for a whirlwind of an evening, so the quiet leading up to the event is something he strives to enjoy.

There’s the small matter that he hasn’t heard much from Emma. But again, she wasn’t quite sure what she was walking into with her ex and David’s twin. He’s glad she was at least able to text him that she’d arrived safely in Boston, but he tempers his hopes that he’ll hear from her again before this is all over.

For most of their events, NeverEndings hosts their parties right in the office, but this one is the biggest event they’ll host all year. The venue has a spectacular view of the city, especially when there’s a light snowfall just starting. He knows it isn’t going to last, and none of it is supposed to stick, but it makes for a pretty view beyond the windows as the sun sets behind the clouds and the party begins. 

All of the major clients of the publishing house start filtering in, and Killian makes sure to paste on the smile he’s perfected for such events. After only a couple minutes of schmoozing, however, he feels like his cheeks are going to crack and his eyes are watering, so he excuses himself to get another drink. It’s just ginger ale tonight, which is fine by him. 

At the bar, he finds Henry looking dapper in his new suit and his hair slicked back much like Robin styles his. 

“All right there, lad?”

“Yeah, just trying to take it all in,” Henry responds, smiling and observing the room at large. “Hey Killian? I never got to say thank you to you or Emma for all your help. Why isn’t she here tonight?”

“She had a personal matter to attend to. I’ll make sure we get lunch sometime soon so you can say it in person,” Killian tells him. “How are things going with Robin and our illustrious leader?”

“It’s going great! I mean, Regina has me doing all these chores around the house and she’s got me enrolled in school for after the holidays end. It’ll be weird going back to public school after being home-schooled so much. She also loves signing us all up for activities. We’ve done two painting classes as a group now down at Aurora’s shop.”

Killian knows the boy is aiming for disaffection or something similar, but the wistful tone to his voice is giving it all away. He’s loving it. From one great family to an absolute personal hell, now back into something like a family, Henry is having the experiences he always wanted as a child. 

“Is she making you eat vegetables, too?”

Henry groans with great exaggeration. “So many vegetables. I like Pop-Tarts and Apollo Bars!”

“She just might be the best mum ever, then,” Killian points out, wagging a finger at Henry’s face.

The teenager’s mirth settles until his smile is soft. “Yeah, she might be. She also wants to sign me up for these online writing classes so I can get even better so maybe you’ll have an easier time editing the sequel to my novella.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Henry looks like he didn’t mean to say them.

“I mean, if you guys even choose to publish it. I don’t expect you to. I don’t mean...I’m sorry.”

“You have a second one started?” Killian asks, forgetting all about the fact that they should be mingling, that he should be introducing Henry to everyone that’s still wandering in. “What’s it about, then?”

“Well, I mean, it’s still in the works. I just started it during Thanksgiving after I moved up here. But I had this idea to use someone like… like a villain in other stories. Like Captain Hook? And make him this anti-hero who helps the heroes even though he doesn’t feel like he’s one of them, and it’s because of this that he falls in love.” He’s avoiding eye contact with Killian and the math is pretty easy at that point, so Killian hides his grin behind his ginger ale. 

“Who does he fall in love with?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” Henry says, the frustrations of a young writer coming out in his voice. “It’s between a couple different people. You figure after all those happy endings that all those fairytale characters went and got married and had kids, right? So maybe he meets someone like Rapunzel and Flynn Rider’s daughter when she’s all grown up. Or Snow White and Prince Charming!”

“I love the concept. And can’t wait to edit this next one with you.”

“Next one? Has my liege acquired our services for his next novella?” Robin comes over, clapping Henry fondly on the shoulder as he gestures with his other hand for another round of drinks. 

“Aye, your lad seems to have the next installment all figured out. All we have to do now is get him to write it.”

“Knowing him, he’ll have it written before spring break,” Robin says fondly. “How are you handling all this so far, Henry?”

“It’s… a lot to take in.”

“We’ll go slow. Let either of us know if you need a breather. We’ll focus most of the interacting after dinner is over so you can get adjusted.”

Henry nods, turning just in time for the ball of energy that is Roland to come bounding into his arms. 

“Come look! Come look!” the boy says, grabbing onto Henry’s hand and pulling him away from Robin and Killian. Henry sort of rolls his eyes but stands up, looking over his shoulder and shrugging as he gets led over to the windows as Roland excitedly points at all the buildings visible from this angle. 

“He may look like a grumbling teenager, but don’t let him fool you. He loves it,” Robin says after they’re both out of hearing range. 

“I feel like I already know the answer to this, but how’s he doing?”

“Better than I ever could’ve expected. If I would’ve realized what he was living with, I would’ve suggested this move sooner.”

“How’s Regina handling yet another male in the house?”

Robin chuckles for a moment. “You know, she told me shortly after we started seeing each other that she couldn’t have children. I had Roland, so it’s not like I was in a rush to have any more. But she loved him so quickly and so fully, that I was sure we were fine exactly as we were. And then Henry came in and completed the picture that I didn’t know was unfinished.”

“I’m happy for you all, mate. And I’m glad he’ll be in town with all of us. Talent and imagination like that needs to be cultivated and loved. And lord knows we all have the skills to do that in Storybrooke.”

“That’s why I prefer the branch to be with us instead of down here. It’s all very pretty, lit up like this and with the snow and the Christmas spirits dancing in the air. But Storybrooke has that all the time - not just around the holidays.”

“Also, if you don’t pick up his sequel, I will personally lay my professional career on the line in order to publish it,” Killian says after a moment.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll sign any and all books that lad publishes for the rest of his life, if I have my way. Also, we haven’t told him yet, but we’re already looking to adopt him if he’ll have us.

Robin leaves Killian standing there with that information and Killian can’t help the full grin on his face. He takes a deep breath, asks for one more refill on his drink, and then wanders to their table to wait for dinner to be served.

-x-

Chapter 10

[let-it-raines]

Tell Me It’s Real (it’s real) {1/1}

Killian Jones has done a lot of stupid things in his life. The stupidest, however, was telling Liam that he and his best friend Emma Swan are dating after Liam presses him on why he hasn’t started dating again after his last breakup. It’s fine. Liam lives an ocean away, and Killian has time to figure out how exactly he’s going to deal with this before there are any actual consequences. 

That is until Liam shows up at Emma’s parents’ house in Storybrooke four days before Christmas thinking that Killian and Emma have been dating for months. 

Emma’s going to murder him.

(A fake dating AU)

Rating: Mature

a/n: You guys, it’s the holiday season, and you all know what that means! Fake dating! That’s right! I’m finally using the ultimate wintery/holiday trope, and I’ve kind of fallen in love with it! I obviously have to write it more, right?! I apologize for any major influx of words this/next week. I just wanted to post all of the things I needed to post while I’m desperately waiting to go into labor 🙈

This one is for you all but especially @resident-of-storybrooke​ @wellhellotragic​ @captainsjedi​ and @thejollyroger-writer​ ❤️

Found on AO3 | Here |

Tagging my one-shot list: @captainsjedi  @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @xellewoods​ @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @shireness-says​ @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke  @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81​ @shardminds​ @spartanguard​

-/-

“Oh my God,” Emma mumbles as she falls back onto his couch and hangs her feet over the back, “my mom is freaking ridiculous.”

“Freaking?”

She twists her head to look at him and roll her eyes. “My mother could somehow hear me swear through the phone if I did, so I substituted. She’s magic.”

“Mary Margaret Nolan is many things, love, but I don’t believe she’s actually magic. I’d also be remiss to say that she cannot hear you swear while she’s a couple hundred miles away.”

“Trust me, she can.”

Killian huffs and uncrosses his legs before propping his socked feet on his coffee table, noting the little smudge that he needs to clean. Emma must have had her coffee here this morning. “Why is your mother freaking ridiculous?”

“Because she, like the mothers in every Hallmark movie in existence, keeps asking me if I’m going to bring someone home for Christmas. I’ve brought a boyfriend home exactly once, which went horribly, and then I said I would never do that again. She also seems to think that I’m secretly dating someone and that she’s going to weasel this information out of me.”

“She cares about you is all.” Emma laughs, and he knows that she’s about to call him on his bullshit.

(He hopes Mary Margaret can’t hear his thoughts.)

“She cares,” Emma says hesitantly while her thumbs swipe across the screen, “but she is annoying. I’m going to tell her I’m not bringing someone home.”

“Besides me.”

“Yeah, but you don’t count.”

“Well, thanks,” Killian chuckles. He reaches over to pinch her side, but she barely flinches more than a slight squirm away from him. “I’m glad I don’t count.”

Emma tugs her bottom lip between her teeth and drops her phone against her stomach before turning to look at him with what he swears is a slight pinkness to her cheeks. “You know what I mean, KJ.”

“Aye, darling,” he promises before leaning over and lightly pressing his lips to her cheek, “I do. What do you want for dinner? Did you eat before you came over?”

“I came right from the station and skipped lunch because paperwork is an absolute bitch.” “Careful, Nolan,” Killian laughs, “your mum might be able to hear that dirty mouth of yours. How do you feel about Tai takeout?”

“Mexican.”

“Chinese.”

“You’ve got a deal, my friend,” she sighs as she twists on the couch until she’s sitting up the right way and her hair is jostled everywhere. She looks ridiculous, and he can feel the smile tugging at the corners of his lips at the monster that is her hair. “Also, would you hate me if I told you that I have neither packed for this weekend nor wrapped presents?”

“I could only hate you if you said you also needed to do laundry.”

Emma flips her hair back so that he can see her face, and he already knows her answer. “I need to do laundry. Like, two weeks’ worth of it, and I think I might also need you to wrap my presents instead of me trying. I can’t get the corners all straight like you do.”

“You want me to come over tomorrow and help?”

“I’ll love you forever if you do.”

Killian bites his tongue and nods, resisting all of the words he wants to say and winking instead. “I knew eventually you’d fall in love with me, darling. I’m too irresistible for it to never happen. I simply didn’t think it would take five years.”

“Guess you’re not as irresistible as you thought.”

“Or maybe you’re too stubborn.” She reaches out to slap him, and he grabs onto her wrist. “No, you definitely are.”

-/-

“Bloody hell, woman,” Killian scoffs as he pushes Emma’s suitcase into the back of his car. “What did you put in here?”

“The presents you wrapped.”

“Then what’s in the duffle bag?”

“More presents you didn’t wrap because I hid them from you.”

Killian groans and leans forward to rest his head against the suitcase while he scuffs his shoe against the pavement. “Is there any way for me to get out of going to your parents’ house for Christmas? I don’t think I’ll be able to last this entire week if it means I’m going to be lugging around all of your stuff. I think I’ll celebrate Christmas by myself this year.”

Emma pats his back. “You’ll be fine. It’ll be fun. My mom is making your favorite apple pie because she loves you more than she loves me.”

“You know,” he starts, pushing the suitcase in a little bit more and slamming the trunk closed, “suddenly I think I’ll be able to make it. However, you, darling, are going to have to be the one to suffer from your mother’s interrogation over your dating life, so I’m not sure that you’ll make it.”

She slaps his back this time. “Shut up and drive.”

“As you wish.”

It’s not a long drive from Portland to Storybrooke, just over two hours, and it passes quickly while they listen to a true crime podcast and debate how much eggnog Emma’s uncle James is going to drink before noon every day. Emma has to update him on every new development in her family since he saw them all last year at Christmas so that he doesn’t step on any toes by asking about dead relationships or even dead relatives, and he tries to commit it all to memory. Emma’s got enough relatives and quasi-relatives to fill an entire auditorium, and it’s always shocking to him how different that is to simply he and Liam. They’ve got this wild and complex history that’s continuously evolving, and his family can be summed up into a few short phrases.

Dead mum, deadbeat dad, an aunt who wanted nothing to do with Killian once he turned eighteen, and one brother who still lives in England while Killian stayed in America after he finished university.

Small. His family is miniscule. It’s only he and Liam, and while FaceTime is a bloody brilliant invention, it’s not a substitute for the real thing. They usually see each other at least twice a year, Killian going to England once and Liam coming to Maine the other time, but this year Liam couldn’t get off work and Killian couldn’t afford the outrageously expensive flights for such a short trip.

He’s trying to save up to have enough for a down payment on this home he’s been looking at, itching and aching to get his hands on it so that he can renovate, and every dollar he doesn’t absolutely need is going to his savings. Liam told him that if he so much as thought about touching his savings that he would find a way to cut off his balls even from an ocean away.

Killian would like to keep those two particular assets.

So it’s another Christmas spent in the quirky small-town of Storybrooke, Maine where he gets to hear David tell the exact same stories about Emma that he’s heard every year before he’s suddenly corralled into a private room and threatened within an inch of his life if he ever breaks Emma’s heart.

Obviously his balls are never safe.

But he’d never hurt Emma. Ever. And despite what David and Mary Margaret and possibly a few other people think, he and Emma are nothing more than close friends. There will be no breaking of hearts.

Except maybe his if Emma ever does find someone to bring home for Christmas. Killian wants her to be happy, more than most anything, but that Christmas will definitely be one he doesn’t spend with the Nolans. They’re like family to him, but he’s not sure if he’ll ever have a permanent spot. Killian knows how it is with Emma’s boyfriends. They’re never comfortable with him, and he’s heard the fights about him through thin walls and hushed phone conversations, and one day Emma’s going to choose someone else over him. It’s inevitable.

And he’s the fool who fell in love with his best friend and has never had the balls to ask her out.

He’s got to stop thinking about his balls in all of these unpleasant scenarios.

“Bloody hell,” Killian mumbles when he pulls onto Main Street and sees the quite frankly ridiculous amount of decorations lining the streets and filling all of the shop windows. “Did an elf throw up here?”

Emma reaches over and squeezes his ear. “You would know if your own kind was in town.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Careful,” she hums, “we’re within five miles of Mary Margaret. She’ll be able to hear you.”

“I will take my chances, love.”

“It’s your funeral.”

“As long as you don’t bury me in one of those tacky Christmas sweaters, I don’t think I’ll mind.”

“Damn,” Emma laughs before tugging his ear again and leaning over to lightly brush her lips across his cheek, “I guess I’ll have to change my plans for your funeral attire then.”

When they get to the Nolans’ farmhouse, Emma tells him to pull onto the gravel driveway and park next to her dad’s truck instead of parking on the side of the road next to the white fence like their guests usually do. Only daughter’s privileges or something like that. He’s not complaining, especially when he picks up half of Emma’s bags to carry inside and is suddenly reminded that she definitely packed a brick or two in there.

Emma opens the unlocked door, something that still fascinates him as someone who has never lived anywhere but a city, and everything inside is exactly the same as the last time he was here. White walls full of family pictures and antique pieces Mary Margaret found in her thrift stores, and little stems of greenery stuck around to bring some color to the place. It looks like one of the homes on Emma’s favorite HGTV show. He can’t recall the name now, but there’s always a hell of a lot of white and throw pillows. He’ll never understand the throw pillows.

The Christmas tree centered in the archway left of the stairs is bare of everything but lights, and Killian already knows that Emma is going to give up decorating halfway through while he finishes her part. Her parents wait for her to come home to decorate it every year, and every year she hangs about ten ornaments before getting distracted and leaving him or someone else to finish.

“Mom,” Emma calls out as she drops her bags at the bottom of the stairs. “Dad? Where are you guys?” There’s no response, and when Emma turns to look at him with raised brows, he shrugs his shoulders and carefully places his bags on the ground. “They have to be here. Dad’s truck is here. Let’s go look out back.”

Killian follows Emma’s lead through the living room and the kitchen to walk out on the back porch, but when they open the door, the backyard is empty, not a single soul to be seen. Emma immediately pulls out her phone and runs her fingers across it while her brows furrow and her smile slowly curves downward the longer she stares at her phone.

“They walked into town for lunch,” she finally explains while sticking her phone in the back pocket of her jeans. “Like, they knew we were going to be here soon, and my parents decided to walk to town. I told them to bring us back food.”

“Granny’s?”

“Of course, KJ. There are fifty restaurants in this town, and my parents only go to one.” She pushes against his shoulder. “Now come on, let’s go put our stuff upstairs and then raid the fridge for the good eggnog before James gets here.”

-/-

There’s a picture of Emma and her parents hanging in Emma’s bedroom over her dresser. She can’t be more than five, and her hair is even brighter and curlier than it is now. He thinks it might be the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. She’s got whipped cream on her nose and chocolate spread across her mouth, and David has chocolate smeared against his cheek while Mary Margaret has flour in her hair. Someone must have snapped the picture for them after a disastrous baking incident, and Killian wishes the joy in the photo could be captured and shared today.

“Woah,” Killian mumbles when he turns and sees Emma pulling his clothes out of his suitcase, “what are you doing with my stuff? Why are you hanging it in here?”

“You’re staying in my room this year.”

“Like hell I am.”

Emma turns her head and rolls her eyes. “Don’t get your underwear bunched up. My grandmother is staying in the guest bedroom, so you got booted out. My bed is more comfortable than the couch.”

Killian reaches up to scratch behind his ear while hoping his cheeks don’t redden. “I promise I can sleep on the couch or on the floor. It’s no problem, love.”

She sighs even as she puts a pair of his jeans on a shelf in her closet. “Are you serious? You want to sleep on the couch?”

He’d love to sleep in the bed with Emma, but that seems like a horrible idea. He can hide his feelings for her most of the time, but being in the same bed, especially when he knows that Emma is a heat-seeker in her sleep, wouldn’t enable him to hide certain physical attributes of his feelings.

“I truly don’t mind.”

“Fine,” Emma huffs, but your clothes are still going to stay in here unless you want to bother my grandmother every time you need something. I hear she’s looking for a new boyfriend.”

Killian barks out a laugh and grabs one of his nicer dress shirts from Emma before she messes it up. “I’m fine keeping my clothes in here. I don’t think Ruth and I are suited for a relationship.”

“You never know. You could be my step-grandfather one day. I bet you’d buy me the best Christmas presents.”

“Only if you’re good.”

Emma winks. “Always.”

“Emma?” a faint voice calls out as the house slightly shakes after the slamming of the door. “Emma, are you here?”

“Upstairs, Mom,” Emma calls out. “We’re unpacking.”

The stairs creak as Mary Margaret walks up toward them, and suddenly she’s there and smothering Emma with a hug that he’s seen a million times.

“Oh, sweetie, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. It’s good to be home.”

“You say that now, but wait until your dad gets home and asks you about the last time you had your tires rotated on your car.”

“I took it to the shop for her last week,” Killian explains, and Mary Margaret releases Emma from her embrace before turning to him with a bright smile.

“Bless you for taking such good care of our girl,” Mary Margaret sighs. She embraces him, and Killian does the same. “I’m thrilled that you could come and spend Christmas with us again this year.”

“I am too. Thank you for having me, love.”

“Always.” She pats his back and pulls back. “David will be here with your lunch in a few minutes. Why don’t we go and get a head start on the Christmas tree?”

-/-

The Nolans are as wonderful as they always are, and it’s refreshing to spend time in a house so vibrant and full of life. They’re what Christmas movies and children’s novels are made of, and sometimes Killian forgets how wonderful, if not slightly overbearing, they are because of Emma’s slightly more pessimistic view on life. She’s happy most of the time, a smile usually on her face even when it’s wry, but he’s seen her go through her breakups with Neal, Walsh, and several guys in between and seen the darkness that resides behind the green of her eyes. People have betrayed her in the worst ways that humans can be betrayed, but she pushes that down…most of the time.

He understands that.

What he doesn’t understand is having a family like this.

Or, well, he didn’t understand that until Emma came sauntering into his life one day telling him that he needed to stop taking her parking spot in the parking garage that their two apartments share. It was all a misunderstanding. His apartment gave him the wrong numbered lot, and he’s never been so thankful for a clerical error and an angry blonde woman.

Love of his bloody life, he thinks.

No, actually, he knows this even as he watches her try to act something out in this ridiculous game of charades where she’s standing on one leg with her hair brushed in front of her face.

One day he swears that he’ll tell her and that he’ll stop harboring these feelings, but he’s selfish and doesn’t want to have their friendship altered. He also doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable. She shouldn’t have to harbor the burden of his feelings for her, especially if she doesn’t feel the same way. Emma owes him nothing more than what she’s willing to give. Being friends is more than he could ever ask for, but his mind betrays him and imagines a time in the future when they’re still playing this stupid game but with a ring on both of their left hands.

That’s a dangerous thought that he pushes down in favor of looking at his texts.

Liam: I’m sorry I didn’t manage to call you today. You want to try again tomorrow?

Killian: Our usual time?

Liam: Sounds perfect. Have a good time with the Nolans. I’m sure that’s got to be weird for you this year.

Killian’s cheeks heat, but he doesn’t respond to Liam’s text as Emma loses her balance and stumbles to the ground until she’s flat on her ass and her entire body is shaking with laughter.

“I was a f-freaking f-flamingo,” she stutters out between laughs. “How did no one get that?”

“Why didn’t you flap your wings?” David questions.

“I did,” Emma sighs as she falls back in laughter. “You guys are all idiots. Why can’t I have Killian on my team? He’s better at this.”

“Because in order for Killian to stay in my house,” David begins, “he has to follow my rules. Rule one is that he helps me with whatever home improvement project I’m working on. Rule two is that he’s on my team for all games.”

“Those are dumb rules.”

“I rather like those rules, love.”

She holds her middle finger up on both hands.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret gasps, “don’t do that.”

“Next time guess that I’m a flamingo, and I won’t have to.”

“Don’t fret, Mary Margaret,” Killian teases. “Emma has always been a sore loser, as I’m sure you know.”

“She’s the worst,” she agrees. “Does anyone want to keep decorating the tree? We didn’t get far earlier.”

Emma groans.

“Or we could keep getting obliterated at this game.”

“Tree,” Emma sighs, “definitely tree.”

-/-

Emma lasts a whole ten minutes decorating the tree before giving up and walking away to eat her leftover onion rings from lunch.

He finishes decorating with David and Mary Margaret, and they tell him that he’s taking Emma’s place on next year’s Christmas card.

-/-

Killian wakes to the smell of coffee and to the sound of hushed talking in the kitchen. Light is peeking through the closed curtains, a sliver crossing over his right eye, and he grumbles and turns back over on the couch hoping that the crick in his neck and the ache in his back will go away after being awake for a few hours.

This couch was not this uncomfortable when he sat on it for most of the evening yesterday.

“KJ,” Emma calls out, “do you want blueberries in your pancakes?”

“Could you use a quieter voice?”

There’s a shuffling and a creak of floorboards, and all of the sudden a firm grip is tightening around his bicep that has him snapping up. “Bloody hell, woman. Have you ever heard of – Liam?”

“Did you miss me, little brother?”

He must still be dreaming because all of the sudden his brother is standing above him with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Liam shouldn’t be in Storybrooke. He should be eight hours and a plane ride away, and there’s no way he can be here. Right?

“Are you going to get up and hug me or are you going to stay on that couch like the lazy ass you must be to have fallen asleep down here last night instead of in an actual bed with your girlfriend?”

Killian’s mind is playing catch up. He’s still half asleep and thinking that Emma is going to make him blueberry pancakes, or more likely Mary Margaret will make him those pancakes while Emma watches. Then, all of the sudden, Liam is here standing over him and not in England like he should be, which makes no sense when…holy shit.

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

Fuck.

“David can be a bit old-fashioned,” Killian lies as he sits up on the couch and then stands to give Liam a hug, squeezing him tightly to convince himself that Liam is really here. “He doesn’t like me to sleep in Emma’s room unless there’s absolutely no other place in the house.”

“You’re both adults.”

“David’s house, David’s rules,” he continues. “What the hell are you doing here? How did this happen?”

“Emma arranged it,” Liam murmurs into Killian’s hair. He smells like he always does and feels just the same. This is some kind of miracle, and Emma Nolan may be the greatest woman alive to do something like this for him. This had to have been her idea. His brother is here. This is real. “And I’m a wanker who has lied to you for weeks about not being able to take off work.”

“You’re probably too good a liar.”

“No such thing.” “That’s what criminals think.”

Killian pulls back from their embrace, his cheeks already beginning to ache from his smile, and sees Emma standing in the archway to the room with her arms crossed over her chest and the cheekiest smile he’s ever seen gracing her lips.

“You absolute tease,” Killian chuckles as he walks toward Emma and wraps his arms around her waist, picking her up and tugging her close to him while her feet dangle from the ground and her arms loop around his neck. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“Sometimes I like you and want to do something nice.”

“Nice?” he scoffs out as he buries his face in her neck and her hair. “This is more than nice. You’re bloody brilliant.”

Her hand rubs up and down his back, and he melts into it, wondering if he can stay in this place and this moment forever. “You deserve it. Though, you really have to explain to Liam that we’re not dating because – ”

“Liam,” Killian blurts out, pulling back from Emma to turn over to his brother and his Cheshire Cat smile, “could you excuse us for a moment? I promise I’ll be back in a hurry and we can talk and eat breakfast then, yeah?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Emma is staring at him with the impossible combination of wide eyes and furrowed brows, and she gasps when he practically picks her up again and carries her through the archway to the kitchen and out the door to the back porch. It’s freezing, something he knows Emma is going to complain about, but he needed a little privacy.

“What the hell are you doing?”

God, he’s an idiot. An undeniable idiot, and he has completely and totally screwed himself into a corner.

Sighing, Killian puts Emma on the ground and moves to run his hands up and down her arms to keep her warm. She going to hate him for what he’s about to say.

“Don’t hate me.”

“That is never a good way to start a conversation.”

“Yeah, well, you’re going to hate this conversation.”

Emma huffs and reaches forward to tuck her hands underneath his sweatshirt so that the iciness of her skin is touching his back and absolutely electrifying him. Why is he like this? He’s a damn bastard.

“Hey,” Emma whispers as her nails scratch against his back, “tell me what’s wrong, KJ.”

Swallowing, he nods. “I’ve done something stupid.”

“Did you kill someone?”

“What? No. Why would you say that?”

“Because you do stupid shit all the time, and that is the only thing I can imagine you doing to have you this freaked out.”

Killian laughs and a white puff of air escapes through his lips before he leans forward and rests his forehead against Emma’s. “I told Liam we’re dating.”

“I’m s-sorry. What did you just say?”

“Liam thinks we’re dating, which is probably why he’s said several confusing things in your correspondence over the past few weeks.”

Emma’s nails dig into his back hard enough to draw blood, and she pulls back so that he loses the feel of the heat of her skin. “Well, that explains a lot, but how the hell did Liam get the impression that we’re dating? Also, I’m going to freeze to death. It has to be fifteen degrees.”

“I know, I know,” he mumbles before pulling her back into his embrace. They must be a pair standing out here in so few clothes with the air nipping at their fingers. “I, well, long story short. Liam was concerned about me after Milah left me because he didn’t seem to think I was dating.”

“You weren’t.” “That’s beside the point.”

“It’s obviously not.”

“Anyways,” he murmurs into her hair, “he was being a buggering ass for so long and one day I told him that you and I had begun to see each other. That was maybe…six months ago. Possibly seven months.”

“What the actual fuck?”

“You’re going to wake up your mum with that kind of language.”

Emma takes a step back while she bounces on her toes and rubs her own hands up and down her arms. Her nose is positively red. “Why would you tell Liam that we’re dating?”

Because I’m in love with you, and he knows it.

“Because I wanted to get him off my back, and you were around when I told him.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Emma chants, and she stops bouncing on her toes to pace back and forth on the porch. “So what was your plan when Liam was eventually going to visit and he realized we weren’t dating? Or when you started dating someone else and suddenly you had to explain why I was so cool hanging out with you and your new girlfriend? Liam literally works in fraud. I think he would have realized something is up.”

“Insurance discovery is not – ”

“Killian.”

He holds his hands up. “My apologies, love. Look, I realize that I’ve screwed up, but I didn’t think I was going to see him, certainly not here. I thought I’d have more time to figure things out. I didn’t – bloody hell, what am I going to do?”

“Have you ever considered telling the truth?”

“No, absolutely not.” Emma opens her mouth to protest, but he doesn’t let her. “Listen, if we could simply pretend to be together for this one week, I’ll figure something out once Liam’s gone home. I promise I won’t make it awkward for you or for anyone. He would be devastated if he found out I lied to him like this, and I’m sure he’ll have me committed for being insane.”

“You want me to pretend to date you. I think I could have you committed for that idea alone.”

“Yes. Come on, darling. It won’t be difficult. We’re already close. We simply have to add in a little public affection, and he’ll never know the wiser.”

“KJ,” she sighs, and his heart is beating so loudly he thinks it might be in between his ears. This is a horrible idea for seventy-two different reasons, but right now he’s desperate not to be a disappointment to his brother. “You know I would do anything for you, but how would this work? My family knows we’re not dating, and I can’t lie to them. That would be too much of a mess.”

“Tell them. Let them be in on it. I don’t even know. I’m sure it would be highly entertaining for them.”

Emma chuckles and rubs her hands up and down her face. “They would die of laughter. My dad…you wouldn’t even have to give him a gift. This would be gift enough, especially because it would be reassurance to him that you weren’t actually fucking me.”

“Exactly,” Killian points out while he inhales a breath of chilled air. “Please, love. I will do whatever you want when we get home.”

Her brow arches. “Really now?”

“Anything reasonable.”

“Okay, okay,” she sighs, and then all of the sudden she’s stepping forward and pressing up on her toes while her arms wrap around his neck. “I’ll think on what I want my reward to be because – ”

And then, in the most unexpected moment of his entire life, Emma Nolan’s lips are pressing into his, cold and a little chapped but altogether wonderful in all of the ways that he’s spent years imagining. His hands curl around her back, pulling her closer to him so that he can feel the soft curves and hard lines of her body while her lips start to move over his, soft and slow. This isn’t real. It can’t be. He’s loved her for too long, even if he didn’t realize it for a long damn time, and this is all he’s wanted.

But then Emma is pulling back and lingering in his space, forehead pressed to his and breath intermingling so that he’s not sure whose is whose.

That’s when the ball drops, and he’s starkly reminded that while he may have felt Emma’s lips on his, while he may know that she likes to focus on one lip at a time and nibble the slightest bit, that wasn’t actually real. Emma’s next words reaffirm that for him.

“Don’t think too much about that,” she heavily breathes, basically panting next to him. “I’m sure we’d have to kiss at some point, and I didn’t want it to be awkward in front of Liam.”

“Aye, I know,” Killian lies. “Brilliant thinking.”

“I’ve watched a lot of really bad Hallmark movies. I know how this works.” She falls back from him, and Killian’s left standing there like an absolute asshole. “Let’s go inside. You’ve got some catching up to do with your brother.”

At that, she turns away, opening the door to the kitchen, and Killian reaches up to touch his lips, still feeling Emma’s kiss there.

He’s well and truly fucked.

-/-

Killian isn’t there when Emma tells her parents and Ruth their plan, and he’s not entirely sure if she plans on telling the extended family that will pop in and out over the next few days, but he knows the exact moment that David knows. David walks into the living room still in his pajamas, takes one look at Killian as he talks to Liam about how he’s been lately, and walks right out of the room trying to smother his laugh.

Smooth, mate. Smooth.

Mary Margaret is much better and only manages to stare at him with a goofy grin for a few minutes before her face returns to normal and she doesn’t look like she knows the world’s most stupid secret.

It’s all fine and good until Emma comes into the living room and gracefully plops herself down on his lap, wiggling around until she can get into a comfortable position. It takes far longer than it should, and when she winks at him, he knows exactly why she’s doing what she’s doing.

It’s payback.

Emma is very nonchalantly grinding down onto his lap so that he’s half-hard, on the way to being completely hard, and his sweatpants don’t do much to hide anything.

Killian is not going to sport an erection in front of his brother and Emma’s parents.

“Bloody hell, woman,” he hisses into her ear while his hand wraps around her stomach and holds her still. “Have you lost your mind?”

She tries to move again, but his grip doesn’t allow her any movement. “No, but I think you will in a few minutes.”

“So,” Liam claps, “do we have any plans for today? Is there anything I can help you with Mr. and Mrs. Nolan? Thank you again for letting me invade your holiday.”

“Don’t think a second thought about it.” Mary Margaret waves him away and stands from her chair. “Any family of Killian’s is family to us. Christmas falls on such a weird day this year being in the middle of the week that we have all kinds of extra time. I believe we’ll lounge around for most of the day today, but I might start on my pies so I don’t have to do them all tomorrow. Feel free to do whatever you want. I’m sure you and Killian have lots to catch up on.”

“We can catch up while helping you,” Liam promises before nudging his shoulder into Killian’s. “Besides, I’m sure Killian is eager to impress you both since this Christmas he’s Emma’s boyfriend and not simply a friend. It’s a whole new set of standards.”

Killian is going to choke on air.

“Which is exactly why my eyes will be on him, especially since I’ve just been informed he’ll be sleeping in Emma’s room tonight.”

“Dad,” Emma groans, “don’t be ridiculous. I feel like it’s safer for Killian to sleep in my bedroom here than anywhere else. I mean, you don’t know what we get up to when we’re back in Portland.”

“Please don’t even say that. I don’t want…images in my head.”

“Oh my God,” Emma gasps as she grinds down, hard, on his lap so that his fingers curl into the couch. “Stop. I swear, you’re so old-fashioned sometimes.” Emma rises from his lap then, and he quickly grabs a throw pillow on the couch to cover his tented sweatpants before Emma leans back down and brushes her lips across his, lingering there. “I’m going to go take a shower. You should find a movie to watch while I’m gone since I have a feeling you won’t want to move for a little while.”

“Aye, love,” Killian agrees with stuttered breathing. “I think I can manage that.”

-/-

Emma’s bed is smaller than it looks. Or maybe he simply feels like it’s smaller now that he’s underneath her covers and can feel the heat of her body radiating toward him. He’s kissed her twice today with several close brushes of her lips on the corner of his, but he can’t handle being close to her in bed. What the hell is wrong with him? He and Emma touch all the time, have been physically closer than this, and he cannot begin to count the times they’ve fallen asleep next to each other on one of their couches. This should be fine and normal, and yet his body is on fire, little sparks of electricity shocking him.

This is a weird, wonderful day, and it’s as if his entire personality has been shaken by it.

His brother is here and will be spending Christmas day with him, something Killian didn’t think they’d be able to do this year, and he’s kissed Emma.

Unreal.

He should get a grip and stop freaking out. This isn’t him. He’s always cool, calm, and collected. He isn’t the type to freak out or worry over little things, and yet his mind has been in a constant state of panic all day.

Now that he can feel Emma’s heat radiating toward him and the smoothness of her leg occasionally brushing against his, Killian knows that every decision he’s made today has been stupid.

The bed shakes as Emma violently flips over onto her side until she’s facing him and wrapping her arms around her pillow while her face squishes back into her neck. “So…today was weird.”

“That’s certainly one way to describe it.”

“I mean, we spent the day with my family, which is always weird, coupled by your brother, which is weirder even though I knew that was happening, and we also spent the day pretending to be together. Like, I think Liam is downstairs on the couch thinking that we’re up here fucking right now.”

“I would prefer that Liam doesn’t think about my sex life.”

“Imaginary one.”

“Oi,” he complains, reaching over to pinch her side so that she squirms away before sticking her legs through his calves. Bloody freezing feet. “It may have been awhile, but I’ll have you know that my sex life is nothing to knock. It’s not as if you’re out often.”

“At least I’m not lying to my brother about my dating life.”

“Sorry about that again, love,” he whispers as his hand runs up her side and rests alongside her waist, fingers curling against warm skin. “I don’t – I shouldn’t have…”

“Hey,” she whispers while brushing back some of his hair, “I don’t mind. Not really. There are worse things in the world than having to make out with a hot guy over the holidays.”

Killian waggles his brows, putting on a façade to keep himself from rambling on and on about his feelings for Emma. “I knew that you fancied me.”

She flicks her fingers against her forehead. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“I promise I’ll try my best.” Killian leans forward and brushes his lips against her forehead, lingering longer than he should. He’s had a taste and can’t seem to get enough. “Let’s get some sleep, love. Your mum said we’re spending all of tomorrow baking, and I think it’ll take up all our energy.”

“That sounds like a good idea, especially since before we go to sleep, I plan to wear you out with some rather rigorous love-making.”

Emma laughs as she turns around and nuzzles into her pillow, keeping her freezing feet still tucked in between his calves while Killian wonders once again what the hell he’s gotten himself into. How could this possible get worse?

-/-

Monday is more than busy. When Mary Margaret said they were going to use up all of their energy baking, she meant it. She’s baking a pie for every single one of their neighbors, and each one gets more care than Killian thought possible. He, Liam, Emma, David, and Ruth all try to help, but in the end, Mary Margaret only finds he and Liam useful. David, Emma, and Ruth all wander off and wrap presents or write holiday cards to go along with each pie, and he’s mostly left in peace and quiet to bake pies and have time to catch up with Liam in a way that they can’t do while apart or in the company of others.

Killian is still in shock over Emma arranging Liam’s visit for him. It’s one of the most thoughtful gifts he’s ever received, and he’s convinced that he doesn’t deserve her. She never claims to be particularly kind or giving, but he sees all of that in everything that she does for him.

She arranged for his brother to fly from England and stay with her parents for Christmas, and she’s pretending to date him to cover up Killian’s mistakes.

What a woman.

And she’s surprisingly good at pretending to date him. Every once and awhile she’ll wander into the kitchen, stealing fruit from his pie filling and popping it in her mouth before brushing her lips across his shoulder, his cheeks, his lips. She runs her hands along his arm, tracing the muscles and the veins, before wrapping her hands around his waist and squeezing him. It’s all these natural, affectionate touches that he grew accustomed to while in a real relationship, but there’s a thrill every time Emma does something like this simply because it’s Emma. He’s got a heat deep in his belly, a redness flushed on his cheeks, and emotion is lodged in his throat always waiting for what she’s going to do next.

It’s a surprise.

A great one too.

And despite his constant reminders to himself, it’s easy to forget that none of this is real when he threads his fingers through Emma’s as they sit on the couch and argue over what Christmas movie to watch or when Emma runs her foot along his calf. It’s easy to forget when Mary Margaret softly smiles at the two of them while David scowls, and it’s even easier to forget when Liam asks them questions and neither of them have to lie about their time spent together.

It’s so real that Killian is convincing himself that it is real, especially the next day on Christmas Eve when he and Emma are delivering the pies and laughing so hard that his lungs burn (that could be from the snow and the cold) and his stomach aches while Emma does impersonations of each of her neighbors before they knock on their doors.

She’s spot on each time.

Killian loves her, honestly and truly. He loves the freckles on her face and covering her shoulders. He loves the sound of her laugh and the way that it trickles through the air like a sweet melody. He loves her wit and the way she’s quick with her words, and he loves the way her nose scrunches up when she’s trying to concentrate or when she’s cold.

The chilled air nips at her nose and reddens it enough that Killian finds himself leaning forward and biting down at the tip before kissing her there. Her cheeks blush and turn as red as her nose, and Killian wonders if he’s ever been more in love with her than he is at this moment.

Likely not.

But it’s not real, and the weight of that weighs heavy in his stomach.

It’s not real.

It’s not real.

“Do you want some hot chocolate, KJ?” Emma asks him later that night as he, Liam, and Emma lounge in the living with the rest of Emma’s family already gone to bed. David teased them about staying up so late that Santa won’t come visit, and it’s a wonder the man can still make such awful jokes when he hasn’t had a young child in so many years.

“No thank you, love. I think you’re the only one who can drink chocolate after we’ve consumed so much sugar today. My figure isn’t going to thank me after this week.”

“I mean, I wasn’t going to say anything, but – ”

Killian reaches for a pillow and tosses it across the room at her, but she quickly dodges out of his way and wanders into the kitchen where he can see her clumsily grabbing all of the ingredients for her to make her homemade hot chocolate. He sighs, content, and leans back into the couch with his hands behind his head and his eyes closed.

“Do you think she’s the one?”

“Hmmm?”

“Emma,” Liam repeats, “do you think she’s the woman you’ll spend the rest of your life with?”

Killian does that thing where he chokes on air again, and he bites his tongue to keep from coughing. Of-fucking-course Liam would ask him something like this. Of course. But this is his own fault and a mess of his own making.

Turning his head, Killian opens his eyes and looks at his brother sitting in the armchair opposite him before quickly glancing over and making sure that Emma isn’t listening. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “I’d want to. I just…I’m not sure if Emma feels the same way.”

Liam’s brows furrow together while he shakes his head from side to side. “Trust me, she does.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“She told me.”

Do. Not. Choke. On. Air.

“I’m sorry,” Killian sputters while he tries to catch up. “What?”

“Emma,” Liam explains, tugging his blanket further up his lap and waving toward the kitchen where Emma is spraying whipped cream into her mouth. “We were both up early this morning while you were sleeping the day away, and she and I got to talking about how you’ve been doing lately with all of the changes in your department at the university and, well, life. You’ve found a good one in her. To be honest, I didn’t quite believe you when you said you’d gotten the balls to tell her you fancy her, but now I can see that you actually have.”

Killian scoffs all the while trying to stop the swirling of his stomach. “I wouldn’t lie to you about something like that.”

Except he definitely would.

“I know, little brother, but can you blame me for being hesitant? You’ve been in love with her for years. I didn’t think you’d ever actually act on it, especially after Milah.”

“Yeah, well, things happen. And it’s younger brother. There’s nothing little about me.”

Liam yawns, his eyes scrunching up in a way that reminds Killian of their mum weirdly enough. “If you say so. I think I might have to call it a night soon.”

“What? I don’t get to grill you on your dating life.”

Liam winks. “No. Those are my privileges as the elder brother.”

“That’s bullocks.”

“That’s life.”

“What’s life?” Emma wonders as she walks back into the room with a large mug topped in white cream with what he’s sure is cinnamon sprinkled on top. She carefully places it on the side table before sitting down and curling into his side. She pulls his arm over her shoulder, and he lightly tangles his fingers into the ends of her hair.

“Killian was trying to ask me about my dating life, but I told him I have elder brother privileges and don’t have to say a word.”

“He’s dating a woman named Elsa,” Emma blurts out, and Liam’s eyes practically bulge out of their sockets. “It’s only been a month, but he, as the two of you would say, fancies her.”

Killian’s entire body rumbles with laughter, and he’s never seen a sight so wonderful as Liam with his jaw dropped and cheeks reddened. Amazing. Emma is amazing for throwing Liam under the bus like that.

And maybe that’s why he leans over and presses his lips into Emma’s, tugging on her bottom lip and tasting hints of chocolate and cream, a kiss so sweet that he wants to taste it forever. Emma moans when his tongue runs across the seam of her lips, and the sound goes straight to his groin before Liam coughs and he’s brought back to where exactly he is and the situation he’s in.

That kiss wasn’t necessary, and he shouldn’t have done it.

(But he doesn’t regret it.)

“That’s the last time you and I ever share secrets, lass,” Liam grumbles, but Killian knows that there’s no ill will there. “And if you don’t mind, I think I’d like to go to sleep, so if the two of you could – ”

“The old man is kicking us out,” Emma teases before getting up and grabbing her mug, taking such a large chug of it that the remnants of whipped cream remain above her upper lip.

“You’re walking in dangerous territory, Ms. Nolan.”

“I’d care, but you’re not the Jones brother I like to impress.”

Liam huffs and waves her away. “Goodnight, love. I’ll see the two of you in the morning.”

“See you in the morning,” Killian tells Liam. “If Santa comes down the chimney, pretend to be asleep so he can leave you your lump of coal.”

Liam salutes. “Aye, aye, captain.”

Killian follows Emma upstairs until they’re in her bedroom and she’s sitting down on her bed downing the rest of her hot chocolate while she flips through the channels on the frankly miniscule television on her dresser. It’s quiet, nothing but the brief sounds of the TV and the hum of the heater, but Killian’s mind is loud with thoughts of Emma and Liam’s conversation and if she really did tell Liam that she loves Killian or if that’s something Liam inferred on his own. Or maybe she was simply keeping up the charade.

This week has fucked with his mind, and doesn’t know what’s up and what’s down anymore.

“KJ.”

“KJ.”

“KJ!”

“What?” he jumps, blinking until he can focus on Emma. “Did you say something, love?”

“I asked where your head was because I’m pretty sure it was in a galaxy far, far away.”

“Something like that,” he awkwardly chuckles while scratching behind his ear. “You ready to go to bed?”

Her head cocks to the side, but she tells him yes before they both go into her small bathroom and shuffle around each other to go through their routines like they’ve done this every night for years and not simply the past few days. Soon enough, all the lights are turned off and they’re settling into their spots to sleep, breaths evening out.

Until they aren’t.

“Kilian?”

He turns his head and inches closer to Emma and can see the green of her eyes in the darkness. “Yes?”

“When you told Liam you were dating someone, you could have said anyone. You could have made a girl up, said someone at the university he didn’t know. You didn’t have to say me.”

“No, I supposed I didn’t.”

“So why did you?”

Killian swallows and closes his eyes. He doesn’t know how to answer this. She’s right. He shouldn’t have said her name. He should have said someone else’s, but he didn’t.

“Was it perhaps,” she continues as her toes drag along his calf and he feels the soft smoothness of her legs underneath her ridiculous snowman pajamas, “that you wanted it to be me? You wanted it to be true?”

“Emma – ”

Her hand reaches out to cup his face, palm against cheek, and sparks ignite over his skin. “Because I wish it was all true. I – ”

There have been times in his life where all Killian longed for was to hear the lilt of Emma’s voice. Now is not one of those times. Now, as his hands curl into the soft strands of her hair and his lips capture hers in the fiercest kiss they’ve shared in the past few days, all he cares about hearing is the little moan he got a glimpse of earlier making a reappearance in his life.

It does.

Almost too quickly, but Killian’s not complaining.

This is them kissing because they want to, even more so than all of the other times before, and Killian is absolutely savoring every little thing about Emma that he can – the soft lips, the insistent kiss, the sounds she makes.

God, the sounds.

She tastes like hot chocolate even more than she did before. It’s suddenly his favorite drink.

“So was this?” Emma starts.

“Yes,” he murmurs against her lips before trailing his teeth across her jaw and down her neck, grazing there and tasting the sweet salt of her skin. “Yes, yes, yes, yes.”

Emma’s resulting laugh quickly turns into a gasp when he nips at her neck, at her earlobe, down at her collarbone. He can’t stop tasting her, touching her, wanting to be with her. This week has been a torturous tease of what they could be, of what he’s wanted them to be, and now that it’s apparently real, he can’t seem to stop himself.

Emma tells him that she doesn’t want him to.

Killian is unsure of how much time he spends with his lips over Emma’s, the two of them getting to know each other in the deep light of the television, but frankly, he couldn’t give a damn about the lack of light. Liquid fire is running through his veins, and with every touch of Emma’s hand down his back and every caress of her lips, he melts a little bit more into Emma despite the fact that she still has on the snowman pajamas.

They’re endearing and very much Emma, and he nearly complains when she tugs down the pants, but that’s only nearly. He’s made a lot of stupid choices in his life, but refusing Emma Swan won’t be one of them.

“Can you be quiet for me, love?”

She nods her head, a smile on her face, and then he’s kissing her again while he pushes inside. She’s warm and wet and fucking glorious, and it takes everything in him not to gasp away from Emma and groan loud enough not only to wake up David and Mary Margaret but the entire town of Storybrooke.

That would certainly be something.

“I thought you said we were supposed to be quiet.”

He harshly thrusts into her at her tease, but she’s right. They are supposed to be quiet. Mostly they are, but the whispered grunts and quiet mumbles of each other’s names seem to fill the room and to mix in with the slapping of skin and the murmur of the television. Killian has to bite down onto Emma’s shoulder to tamper down his own cries of pleasure before turning his head into her ear to whisper to her.

“Fuck, you feel good like this.” His hands can’t stop moving over her, even with the limited space between them and around them, and Killian feels every hitch of Emma’s breath and hears every creak of this old mattress. His hand runs over her shirt, finding her breast underneath, and Emma buries her face in his neck as she cries out at the touch. “I have a feeling you’d feel good in any way.”

Her nails scratch against his back, and he swears that he hears her tell him to shut up.

Killian’s hand leaves her breast to find where they’re joined, rubbing in circles there as his peak gets closer and closer, waves of tension and pleasure washing over him as his heart beats faster than it ever has and every feeling in his body is focused on this and nothing else as Emma falls apart and he follows her soon after.

Their chests both heave as Killian falls off of being on top of Emma and onto the mattress, and the grin on his face has to stretch all the way to his eyes. Emma curls into him, resting her head on his chest, and he wraps his arm around her shoulder before kissing her hair.

This week doesn’t make a lick of sense, and he definitely doesn’t care.

“Believe it or not, that’s the first time I’ve ever had sex in my parents’ house.”

Killian barks out a laugh, one that he’s sure can be heard by everyone in the house, but he doesn’t give a damn, not anymore. “Funny, it’s the same for me.”

Emma slaps his chest before sitting up and pulling her messy, slightly damp hair into a bun. She’s still got on the ridiculous pajama shirt. “This has been a weird week, KJ.”

“But a good one, aye?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, leaning down and pressing her mouth over is, “the best. I’ll have to surprise you with your brother more often.”

“Good. I’m glad you know that I’ll have high standards for us going forward. Just wanted to state that upfront.”

Emma shakes her head as she laughs and places her knees on either side of his thighs to straddle his lap. “Merry Christmas, you idiot.”

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

-/-

They never tell Liam that it was all a lie because, in truth, none of it was.

It seems that everyone knew that but them.

Two Christmases later, there are rings on both of their left hands, and David finally lets Killian be on Emma’s team in charades.

They obviously win.

[welllpthisishappening]

So I just got caught up reading your Tripping Over the Blue Line series and OMG I AM IN LOVE! Not only is it one of my favourite CS AUs now but it’s also got me really wanting to get into watching hockey So thank you! It’s beautiful. And I really hope there’s more of the one-shots in the future

Oh my goodness, thank you!! It genuinely blows my mind that people are still reading Blue Line, so seriously this is the absolute nicest. It is a lot of hockey words, and I am so glad you enjoyed them. And getting people to watch hockey is my greatest joy.

In some not so subtle self promotion, I'm not sure how many of the sequels you read, but I did just add a whole Blue Line fic page. On which there are...even more words. Just, like, an absurd amount of words.

Also, because of who I am as a person, I have a whole stash of Blue Line one shots I have never posted, but will gladly share Google doc links to. Off the top of my head:

Two more Christmas stories

Matt in ESPN's body issue

The first road trip after Matt is born

Matt practicing Killian’s post goal celebration

Chris' boyfriend not knowing anything about hockey

An outlaw queen focused story

Emma and Killian straight up making out in a closet

Roland and Lizzie's wedding

Henry meeting Ella

Peggy asking about Milah

A ridiculous number of OTs

Killian finding Emma in her office and celebrating a win

Roland and Lizzie's first "I love you"

Preseason promo videos

[teamhook]

A Chapter A Day... Savage Heart CS AU

A love story between a pirate and his savior. An innocent, beautiful, selfless woman meets a man with no manners, no formal education and not even a last name. Will Emma fall in love with Killian once she discovers that beneath his tough exterior lies a heart-wild, but a heart of gold? This is a Captain Swan AU

Beta-ed by the awesome @ilovemesomekillianjones​

|AO3| |FFN| previous chapter

|AO3| |FFN| current chapter

Chapter 25: Thwarted Dashing Rescue

Killian is pacing back and forth in Emma's garden. The flower's fragrance fill his nostrils. He misses her so much, but he needs to clear his mind. Thoughts of her are so painful and distracting. So he decides to go to the only place that allows him to gain perspective, the sea.

He walks into the house and calls out to Tink. "Tink, I'm going to the docks, to the Jolly. If anyone stops by, that's where I will be."

She rushes out of her hiding place and smooths her simple green dress. "I want to go with you. I was locked up for far too long at that convent."

"Tink, I'm sorry but I would rather go alone."

"Killian, you are not the only one that needs to breathe the salty fresh air or see the waves crashing against the hull of the ships."

"Fine, you come along then. Do you mind if we walk?"

"Are you kidding me? Killian, it's really far."

"No, it's not... but I suppose we can take the carriage if you'd prefer."

"No, we can walk. I know you would rather walk. I'm still coming along. You are not getting away from me. Killian, I know you are worried about Emma and I also know for a fact that she will come home soon and torture me with studies." She scrunches her nose and bumps his shoulder with her own.

They walk towards the docks using the route opposite of Sherwood Lane, the same road his love had been taken from.

"Don't worry, I will give you the space you need to think."

Once they reach the docks they separate. Tink quickly wanders the docks as she celebrates finally being free.

Killian's brows furrow in thought. He stares at the calming waves beyond the Jolly. He feels so at peace and the solitude is welcomed. Something doesn't feel quite right. He is very perceptive and right now he knows something is amiss. Normally the lost boys' gang flocks to him; he rarely reaches the Jolly without being bombarded with their questions and requests for sailing trips. It is surprisingly quiet. His two biggest fans are nowhere to be seen. Some time back he had caught a few of them aboard the ship hoping to stow away on one of his trips. He quickly turns and walks to a small group of boys playing on the docks. He recognizes one of them. "Johnny, lad, I was wondering where I could find Rufio and Felix?"

"Captain they are gone, they left with a man."

"They are gone? What man did they leave with? Johnny, how long ago was this?"

The boy thinks of his answer before replying, "Almost a week I think, maybe less."

He's a bloody git, he had been too busy looking for clues at the taverns. Sure the docks were filled with newcomers daily, but how many of these people paid any attention to the kids that dwelled there. The short answer is none. Not unless it suits them in some way. He knows this because he has lived it. He was once a lost boy; one of the lost ones. That is one of the reasons the boys look up to him. He was one of them and he managed to survive.

"Johnny, has the man returned to the docks since Rufio and Felix left with him?"

The boy shook his head slowly. "Are they in trouble Captain?"

"No, they're not Johnny." He kneels to be at eye level with the boy. He smiles at the young boy and ruffles his hair. He knows he cannot save them all but he knows Emma will know what to do. "My boy, I need a little bit of help at the office. How would you like to be my personal messenger?" He can offer the boy a place to sleep at the office. There is a small room in the back with two bunks. He knows Michael will not mind. He is a kind, old man. The alternative is his old beach cabin but it is too far.

Tink arrives, "Hey, what is going on?"

Killian turns to her, "Felix and Rufio aren't here; they left with some man, days back."

Tink looks at Killian confused.

"It's too much of a coincidence. Some man appears and persuades two very impressionable boys to leave with him. The sea calls to those two and I cannot picture them anywhere else. Then not long after, my wife disappears."

"I don't know Killian." She looks at him with pity.

"Tink I would gladly take that wager, I know I'm right. Let's get Johnny here to the office and then we go home."

"Fine, but are you going to tell Emma's parents of your theory?"

"About my suspicions; I will tell everyone once I have figured out why she was taken. Tink, I don't know why this man, whoever he is, would target Emma?"

"Killian I don't agree with you but if you feel that strongly I will help however you see fit."

"Good, let's drop off the boy and go home. Maybe Archie and Mr. Nolan will have news."

They each grab one of Johnny's hands and head towards his office with the boy in tow.

They quickly make the drop. Thomas welcomes the boy while Smee turns up his nose. The man truly is a rat.

"Sir, before you go, is there any news of Mrs. Jones?"

"Thank you for asking, Mr. Thomas," Killian stresses the name since his first mate has not mentioned his concern for his wife's abduction. He glares at Smee who in turn cowers in the corner. "I'm sure she will be home soon. I can feel it."

"I'm happy to hear that, sir. She is a wonderful woman."

"Is there anything else?"

Smee and Thomas answer in unison. "No sir, the business is going well."

"Good. For the time being, you two will be in charge. Johnny can deliver messages to the house in case it is needed. I have to head home. Please keep an eye on the boy."

"Of course sir, it will be a pleasure." Mr. Thomas looks fondly at the boy already.

Killian and Tink leave the boy behind and head to the house.

Snow promptly arrives back home after her conversation with Cora. She knows the idea of reaching out to her was not well received, but she knows they will understand and accept her decision. The end goal is to get Emma home. Not long after her arrival David and Archie arrive.

"David, Archie how did it go? Is he going to help?"

"He wasn't thrilled with the idea, that was obvious, but he will. Especially if he knows what is good for him." Archie nods in agreement with David's words.

"I went to go see Cora. She agreed to help. Not long after I delivered the news of Emma's disappearance August left to meet with you both at the Sheriff's office."

David looks at Archie as they both respond at the same time. "We didn't see him there."

"Oh, he seemed eager to help. He cares for Emma."

"Sweetheart, he must have arrived after we left. I thought we had agreed to meet with the Sheriff first."

"This is Emma we are talking about; I'm not taking any chances."

Archie cuts in, "I'm sure things will work out."

David looks at his friend and nods in agreement. "Snow, with Cora's support, I'm sure in no time we will have our daughter back."

Archie smiles, "I should go update Killian."

Snow and David agree for him to go talk to Killian.

There is a pounding on the door and Killian rushes to answer, maybe it's news. He opened the door wide and is greeted by Sheriff Nottingham, who steps inside and makes himself at home without being invited.

"Killian Jones, oh, how you have moved up in the world. Marrying above your class; how fortunate for you."

"Nottingham, what do you want? Are you here to ask for a bribe?" Killian knows he's struck a nerve because the Sheriff goes red.

"If I was you, Captain, I would not anger the person sent to help you find your wife. Your father-in-law and your good friend Mr. Hopper came to see me, and last but not least, the all-powerful August Booth was there later. If you ask me, everyone is putting too much importance on the wife of a pirate."

"My Emma is bloody amazing and you would be lucky to breathe the same air as her. You should keep in mind that she is not only my wife. She is the daughter of Snow and David Nolan. She is close to the Booths. She is not an expendable orphan no one cares for or a simple barmaid that just disappeared."

"Oh, I've gathered that. Mr. Booth was adamant about me finding her. I do wonder why he puts such an effort in looking for his ex-betrothed. Interesting, isn't it? Do you think maybe there is more to his interest?"

"What are you getting at? Just spit it out!"

"He was betrothed to her and then he changed her for the cousin. I don't know, Captain, he may be having second thoughts."

"I don't bloody care if he is having second thoughts or not. Emma is my wife and we are very happy together."

"And yet, she is not here to confirm your story. I think she wanted to run away after she realized that she ruined her life by marrying you. Maybe she got tired of you and found a new lover or went back to an old one." Nottingham smiles and strokes his chin.

Killian laughs at his snide remark and slowly approaches the Sheriff. "I think you are confusing my wife with Lady Marian. Weren't you two to be betrothed? Oh yes, I recall now, she met the dashing Robin Locksley and married him instead. I hear they have a lovely son."

Nottingham closes his eyes as he squeezes his hands into fists so tight that they turned white. He tries to look around the house for a distraction. "I'm only here to do my job."

"Are you mate? You could have fooled me. You are here to get a rise out of me."

"If it was up to me I would let the pieces fall where they shall but in no uncertain way, I was threatened to action by your father-in-law and August Booth."

"Look around if you need to. I've got nothing to hide."

"It appears so, Jones." He tilts his head towards the interior of the house.

Killian starts to walk and is interrupted by Tink. "I will show Nottingham around." He has no doubt Tink is only giving the Sheriff the tour to avoid them from shedding any blood. So he easily makes his way once more to the garden.

After Snow's departure, Cora summons Malcolm to the office.

"Mrs. Booth, how can I be of assistance today?"

"I need Emma brought back. David and Mr. Hopper have reached out to the Sheriff. August went to assist them. Snow agreed to keep her mouth quiet. The plan was never to keep her away forever."

"Oh, so soon; I thought it would take longer for her to agree."

"Malcolm, you seem to underestimate a mother's love. It is never a wise choice."

Malcolm maintains eye contact with her. "I would never make that mistake about you."

"Bring her back, and Malcolm, make sure she is unharmed." With those final words, she leaves him in the office with doors wide open.

Malcolm stays behind trying to think of a way to break the news to the other Mrs. Booth.

He searches for Milah to give her the news. She will not be happy to find out that it is time to bring her cousin back. He will claim that with the pressure the families are applying he cannot risk getting caught.

The volatile personality of the younger Mrs. Booth has been evident to him from the start. He finally finds her walking back from her carefree walk in the gardens.

"Miss Milah, may I have a word?"

"Of course, how can I help?" She offers him her sweetest of smiles.

"I heard that your Aunt came by to request assistance in recovering Mrs. Jones. I'm just informing you that she will be returned soon. I will have to leave to retrieve her."

"Wait, we need to make the demand for her return to Killian. I cannot wait to see how easily he discards my cousin and keeps the ship. That will show everyone; especially Killian, that he doesn't love her as he claims."

"Don't worry I will have the ransom letter dropped before I leave."

"I could deliver it."

Malcolm stares at Milah. "I could go visit him feigning concern for Emma and say I saw the messenger and that he handed it to me or that it was on the floor."

"Don't you think they would question you further?"

"I could say I didn't pay attention. It doesn't matter."

"If you feel confident, I will not object. I will write it quickly. I need to leave and there will be two days for Jones to respond."

"Should I follow you?"

He looks around to see if he can spot anyone that could question their conversation and he didn't find any.

"Alright, follow me. We have to do this quickly."

"Malcolm, wait. Won't my precious mother-in-law have a problem with you leaving?"

"No, she knows I need to leave. I told her that I have some loose ends to tie-up."

"She has been very accommodating to your little excursions."

"Mrs. Booth and I are on good terms is all."

Milah can't hide the disgusted look on her face as they walk in silence to his room. He grabs stationary from the small desk and quickly composes the letter. Simple, direct and to the point.

Milah stares intently at Malcolm as he hands her the note to examine. She reads aloud, "Mr. Jones, Your wife in exchange of your ship. You have 24 hours to comply. You will sail the ship to the border of Misthaven and Port Hook. Leave the title of the ship in the Captain's Quarters to indicate compliance. Your wife will be returned within 24 hours. Let's keep this between us, the first sign of a third party will result in you never seeing your lovely wife again."

"I think this will do perfectly. Malcolm, why does he have to sail out of Misthaven?"

"That question surprises me coming from you. I don't know about you, but I don't want to be caught. It will be a quick sail for him."

"I really wish you didn't have to retrieve Emma."

"You should be happy. You have insisted that he doesn't love her. This will be proof. Now, I have to go. I had asked Dr. Hyde to check in on her. He had reluctantly agreed only because he was afraid one of my helpers might hurt her. He is concerned due to the obvious hate for Mrs. Jones. It seems like there is someone out there that dislikes her even more than you do."

"I don't dislike my cousin but I have never been one to share."

"Have you considered that perhaps this time she is the one that doesn't want to share? I have to go now."

Milah stares at him as he leaves. She has to leave to deliver the letter. She ponders if she should go look for August or Cora to inform them she is leaving and decides against it. The letter, ready to be delivered is neatly hidden from prying eyes.

Milah arrives by carriage to the Jones Residence. She smooths her dress and feels for the letter. She walks confidently toward the door and schools the expression on her face to show concern. She knocks hurriedly. The door opens after a few moments. The look on her face changes instantly as she faces an unknown woman.

"I'm here to see Mr. Jones," she stammers.

"He is not accepting visitors."

"He will see me," Milah says as she forces her way inside.

"I said he is not accepting visitors. You should leave before I force you."

"How dare you? I'm family. I have no idea where he found you but he will be very angry to know you are talking to me this way."

"You are not family. The only woman other than me that can claim to be his family is not here right now."

"I don't know who you think you are but I'm family. My cousin is his wife."

"Your cousin?" Tink repeats with recognition, "Oh, you're Milah. I know of you. Emma mentioned you. What are you doing here? You come to offer yourself when he is distraught. Wasn't it enough that you stole her betrothed now you are here to go after her husband?"

Milah turns beet red. "My cousin would never say such a thing."

"What do you truly know of your cousin or even care? If you would have cared you would have turned down a proposal you knew would break her heart."

"Oh I see, my saintly cousin only told her side of the story. What about her? She married Killian knowing that I loved him."

"What are you talking about, how do you know Killian?"

"That is none of your business, would you step out of my way. As I left my house I saw a boy headed up to the door and he just gave me this and said it was for Killian." She waves the letter in front of Tink. "It may be something important."

"Wait here and don't get any ideas. I'm not Emma; I will not hesitate in hurting you. Just so you know, I'm no lady."

"I can tell. Could you just get on with it? Go get Killian."

Tink glares at her and goes in search of Killian.

Killian had entered the house through the back door completely oblivious to the scene that is playing out inside his home.

Tink finally finds him in his and Emma's bedroom. He is reminiscing gently caressing her possessions.

"Killian" Tink whispers.

"Aye," he sniffles and gives her a smile.

"Killian, when we came back from the docks you were so sure of yourself and now you are back to the defeated man that you were in the morning."

"I know if Emma was here things would be different."

"Killian, I know you are upset but there is someone here to see you."

"I have been expecting Archie or my father-in-law. Is it them?"

"I'm afraid not, it's Milah."

"What the bloody hell does she want? Tink, I cannot deal with her."

"She has a letter with her. She said that a boy was going to deliver it but left it with her when he saw her."

"Do you think it's the ransom letter?"

"I would think so. I hope so."

"Come on Tink, let's go find out."

"Is it true?"

"Is what true?" He arches his brow as they walk toward the living room.

"You and Milah had a dalliance. That you were in love."

"Ah, I thought I was but now I know for a fact that Emma has been the only woman I have ever truly loved."

She smiles and gently reaches out for his hand. "I know, I understand now. At first, I was so angry and hurt but you never gave me false hope."

"I'm sorry love; I believe that the right man for you is out there and that you will find him."

"Just so you know, I'm not leaving you alone with that witch. Emma would kill me."

"She would kill us both."

Killian clenches his jaw as he greets his unwanted guest. "Milah, what are you doing here?"

"I came to see how you were doing only to find out you already have my cousin's replacement living with you. How would Emma feel to know that?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you but Tink is not Emma's replacement. Emma wanted her to come live with us."

"This is priceless; my cousin is more naïve than I gave her credit for."

"You will not come into my home and insult my wife. Get to the bloody point or get out!"

Milah rolls her eyes at him. "I would prefer to have this conversation alone."

"Either you start talking or leave," he demands through gritted white teeth.

Tink hisses at him under her breath, "The letter Killian."

"Milah, give me the bloody letter or was that a lie?"

She holds out the letter for him to take. He grabs the letter unceremoniously from her hand and opens it.

Tink stares at him as he reads it and mutters random words.

"Killian, is it the ransom letter?"

"Aye"

"What do they want?"

"The Jolly"

Emma is pacing in the little room, she has to get out now, she has no idea what they plan to do to her. She will not let fear thwart her plans. Suddenly there are footsteps just outside the door and she stays still and grabs her empty water cup slowly to go unnoticed and flips it. There aren't any options for weapons so she will use what she can. She sees the door knob turn slowly and then the door is open. The sunlight shines through and she can make out a silhouette of a man stepping into the cot. Before she can strike the intruder, she is stopped by the voice of her young friend. The cup drops to the floor.

"Miss Emma, it's me. Hurry, I don't know how long they will be gone. They went to town for supplies. We are lucky they left the carriage behind but they took one of the horses. The carriage will be slower with one horse but you'll have a head start."

"Rufio, thank you, I will never forget this. You are helping me get home. Come with me." Her eyes are teary and full of hope.

"I cannot come with you. I will lie and tell them you ran right before they got here."

"I will not know where to go. We have a better chance together."

"No, I hope the Captain can truly forgive me for my part in your separation. You are going to need to knock me out."

"No, come with me," she asks again, she fears for his well-being once she is gone.

"We have no time to argue. Come." He grabs her hand and pulls her out. The sun shines bright and hurts her eyes. She lifts her hand to shield her eyes as she follows him.

He abruptly stops in front of the carriage. She still can't focus her eyes as she hears the rustling and the horse neighing.

"Here, let me help you climb. You need to go. Now!" He looks so sad.

She stops suddenly. "Wait, I thought I was taking the carriage."

"No, it will be much faster if you ride the horse. The carriage will be too much weight for the lone horse and slow you down. You will surely be caught again."

Emma looks at her dress. It is dirty and rough to touch. If she is to ride the horse she cannot care for propriety. She reaches for the bottom and tears it enough to allow movement.

He helps her mount the horse, her torn garment making the climb easier. "Rufio, before I go. Do you know who is responsible?"

"I just know his last name... Peters, but I don't think he is in charge. He always said you were not to be hurt and that you would be released but I'm afraid of what Felix will do, he scares me."

"I know he doesn't like me. He blames me for losing Killian."

"I still think you should come with me."

"If they hadn't taken the other horse, I could, but two people on one horse. The horse will tire and we cannot take that risk. Please go, follow the dirt road and you will reach the crossroads, take a left turn and keep going. That will lead you back to Misthaven."

She rides the horse as fast as she can, following Rufio's instructions and disappearing into the sea of trees.

Rufio looks on as Emma gallops away to her freedom. He slowly walks back to the cot she had been held in. He grabs the cup she had in her hands and repeatedly strikes himself in the head, blow after blow until blood runs down his face. It has to look believable that Emma had assaulted him in her quest for freedom. He hopes that she has gained enough distance.

@hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked@profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87@snowbellewells@hollyethecurious@kymbersmith-90@branlovestowrite@thejollyroger-writer@shireness-says@ilovemesomekillianjones@thisonesatellite@thesschesthair@winterbythesea@stahlop@resident-of-storybrooke@superchocovian@lfh1226-linda@artistic-writer@thislassishooked@shardminds@winterbaby89@xhookswenchx@ultraluckycatnd@gingerchangeling@laschatzi@wellhellotragic@xemmaloveskillianx@courtorderedcake@pirateherokillian@optomisticgirl@darkcolinodonorgasm@sherlockianwhovian @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426​

[seriouslyhooked]

You Look Good (A CS NYE story)

A/N: Hi everyone! I just want to start by wishing you all a happy New Year! This story is actually one I have been working on for a while, and I had stalled out with writing it. A long long time ago a reader asked for ‘You Look Good’ by Lady Antebellum and I love the song but just couldn’t get inspired, and then today I realized a good way to engage with this song was through also engaging with the holiday. So, this is a CS AU oneshot where Emma and Killian are both on holiday get aways in paradise with their friends. They happen to see each other from afar and… well, you’ll just have to read it to see how it goes. Thank you all for reading and thanks to the very patient reader who suggested this song!

“Now this, right here, is the life.”

The words from his friend Will should have been grating, especially since the rest of the men on this boat were all actually pulling their weight this afternoon on the water while Will was lounging about. But still, Killian couldn’t help but agree.

Being out here on the sea was infinitely better than life in the city, especially in the dead of winter when New York was 25 degrees and covered in ice. There the air was frigid and sharp, and here it was clean, crisp, and glorious. The sunlight that had been gone from the north for so long was out in full force here, and the sand and the waves underneath a clear blue sky were the perfect remedy to anyone’s winter woes.

Even with the frozen temps, at home everything was driven by competition and hectic chaos. Business in New York was cutthroat, something he’d learned as the CEO of his own business. There were no breaks. If you wanted to be a success you worked like a dog and you never slowed down, but out here there was a gentler pace of living that held no less purpose even in its quiet calm. It was easy to get caught up in how much more vibrant the world seemed out in these kinds of open coastal spaces, and how much more possibility floated about in the air out here, but soon enough they’d all head back to reality. That was just the way things were. No matter how much he and his friends may enjoy their annual holiday trip to the tropics, they always returned home, waiting and wishing for the next year to end and call them back again.

This trip was a tradition for the four of them, starting way back when Will, David, Graham and Killian had met in college. David had a friend of a friend of a friend who had a place on a sunny island where summer lasted all year long and the rest was history. Things had radically changed since those good old days, what with all of them having time consuming careers and various responsibilities, but the peace they all found out here on the ocean had never waned. This was a critical time of respite for the lot of them, what with Graham taking time off from his police work, Will leaving the run of his bar to his staff, and David leaving the hospital to the care of other residents. But Killian couldn’t help feeling that each year they were getting closer to the loss of this tradition, or at least a substantial change in the way it came about.

It was only a matter of time before his friends started settling down, and when that day came it was unlikely that their girlfriends or wives would embrace a weeks-long guy’s trip especially during Christmas and New Years. It would no longer be realistic to put their lives on hold for such a long stretch, and Killian understood that. For his part, he would actually welcome such an addition to his life, a woman who would miss him too much to want to be apart at this time of year, but he had to be realistic. So far experience had shown him that finding such a match and meeting a woman who he could truly see forever with was a long shot. It would take a miraculous woman to truly speak to his heart, and only that kind of love would entice him into marriage and the whole happily ever after thing.

“You’ve got that look again, Killian,” David joked and Killian raised his gaze to his best mate who looked smug and all-knowing.

“I haven’t got a look,” Killian responded, prompting David and Graham to laugh.

“Sure you do,” Graham quipped. “The dreamy, brooding one. That one women eat up because they think you’re grappling with the universe’s big questions.”

“Maybe I am,” Killian quipped and after a moment they all laughed.

“Nah you’re just worrying,” David explained. “You’re thinking that this might be our last run out here, and you’re probably right, at least the way we do things now.”

“He’s right?!” Will asked, his genuine concern manifesting as a shriek. It was like a banshee, and the harsh tone was so shrill Killian winced.

“Well, yeah. Next year’s gonna be different. I don’t know about you all, but I’m finding my girl. I’ve got it all planned.”

“You’ve planned it out?” Graham asked with a smirk. “And how exactly did you do that, Doctor Nolan?”

“That’s for me to know and her to find out.”

David’s adamant refusal to elaborate prompted some more ribbing from the others, but it only reminded Killian about how sure and true his instincts were. He sensed that this tide was shifting, and he believed David was right. Not about the having a plan to find the woman of one’s dreams– that was bull shit. There was no way one could plan to find a love strong enough to build a life around. But when he said this year was going to be different, Killian found he genuinely hoped that would be true and that hope carried him through the rest of their afternoon out on the water.

By the time they pulled back into port, docking their sailboat in the marina they’d come to know well, Killian was no closer to answers about what he wanted and when it might come. He tried to take solace in the beauty that was the sky at this time of day, with sunset silhouettes dancing, painting lazy, wayward clouds that hung over this seaside place. The shades of pink and orange and gold could never be recreated back home, but while he appreciated the sight, it did nothing to truly calm him. He was restless still, but he supposed that was normal for the last day of the year, and the final few hours before a brand new start. People had a tendency to get antsy in these final moments, and even in paradise it seemed that was to be his fate.

“Well lads, it’s time for the age-old question – Captain Jack’s or Odie’s Place for New Year’s this evening?”

No one answered Will’s eager question as they got into the jeep they’d rented for the two weeks, and that was likely because they didn’t care. Either place would suit their purposes. They wanted a decent meal and a few drinks to get them through to the new year. Other than that, there was little consideration to be had.

“All right then, driver’s choice,” Will responded, hopping into the vehicle and hardly waiting for any of them to do the same before he tore off onto the main road and raced towards their vacation villa.

Absentmindedly Killian watched the scenery around them, noticing the way the docks gave way to the bustling town beside it. The island was particularly busy this year, a sign that perhaps their secret haven might not be so secret after all. Years ago it felt like they were the only foreigners here this time of year, but alas it seemed to be a new and wide-spread trend. Some people were here with families, others on trips that mirrored theirs, but none of these people really mattered to Killian. At least until…

The first thing he noticed about her was her golden hair, which reflected the iridescent light of the year’s last sunset in an almost ethereal way. It was pulled back, likely from hours spent at the beach, but soft and wavy tendrils hung loose, shielding parts of a face so stunning it made Killian’s heart skip a beat and then another. In the three seconds that they were passing her, Killian swore he took in every little detail of this woman – nay, this vision – memorizing her like she was the answer to his every prayer. Her lithe form, her perfect face, the way the smile she was wearing met her eyes and the essence around her that was light and happy. She was an angel dressed in a yellow sun dress, an impossibly gorgeous woman the likes of which he’d never seen, and in an instant he knew that he’d regret every moment he lived from this point on if he didn’t get a chance to know her.

“Stop the car!” Killian yelled as he finally got his wits about him. His eyes stayed on her as Will braked a bit but kept driving.

“What the fuck -?”

“Pull the car over, Will. Now!”

David’s intensity matched Killian’s and if he were able to think of anything outside this girl Killian would wonder why his friend was so animated too, but as the car slowed down, Killian hopped out of the side, and raced back down the street. She was only a little while back, but this place was packed with people and there were hotels and storefronts all around. She could be anywhere, and the realization that she was lost to him damn near gutted the sense of hope he’d suddenly found.

“What the hell is up with you two?” Graham asked, appearing beside Killian and Killian shook his head.

“I thought I saw her,” Killian confessed and he continued to look out through the stream of people, but she didn’t reappear.

“Saw who?”

“The one.”

“The one?” Graham scoffed. “Wait are you serious right now? This isn’t just some sort of sun-induced hallucination?”

“I don’t know,” Killian whispered, fear clinging to him that maybe that’s what she was. Surely now that he thought of it no one could be so perfect or call to him so quickly. Maybe Graham was right? But then he saw her again, this time across the square from where he was. He started moving towards her, and as if she could feel his attention she stopped, looking at him and halting him in his tracks. God she was incredible. She was stunning and remarkable and every other good thing and when he saw her he forgot to breathe. All he could do was stare and enjoy the rush of adrenaline that came in realizing she was doing the same. She was caught too, snared in by this connection between them, whatever it may be.

“That’s her!” David said and Killian looked over, suddenly feeling very territorial and jealous. It didn’t matter that this was his best friend. This woman was off limits. She would be his, at least he hoped. God did he hope.

“Back off David.”

“Not the blonde, dumb ass, her friend.”

Cursing from David? Wow he must be just as caught up as Killian, and when Killian looked back over to the woman who captivated him he saw she had a girl beside her. She was brunette and petite, with a blue dress and the same beach-ready look, but she didn’t hold a candle to his girl.

“Aw shit, not now,” David groaned and Killian looked to see what he meant. Fuck! The end of year festival was happening, and now a sea of people were swarming in, dancing away the bad of this year and ringing in the new one. It was, admittedly, a very cool ceremony, but only when one wasn’t trying to meet the girl of their dreams. Instead the dancing and the noise made Killian agitated, but he couldn’t get around it, and by the time it was all over and they were free to move again, both women were gone and Killian was left feeling stunned and defeated.

“They can’t have gone far,” David said, scoping out the area but there was no sign of them. Eventually they changed tactics, with Graham questioning a vendor selling flowers down below. Killian listened as his friend asked questions about the girls but to no avail and so Killian did the same at other markets and shops. It was crazy, but finally one woman selling bracelets by the beach drive said she’d seen them.

“They came to look at my wears. Fancied a few pieces too, but said they forgot their wallets back at their hotel. They promised to come back tomorrow and get them. Said it would be their last day at the beach. Usually I don’t believe tourists when they say these things, but they had such honest eyes. Good things come to people like that.”

“Did they mention which hotel?” David asked, sidestepping the woman’s local superstitions about ‘honest eyes,’ and the woman shook her head.

“Nah, love. They did say they had to get back to the north side of the island though and there’s not many places out there. They likely at the resort.”

“Which ones did she like?” Killian asked, surprising the woman. Slowly a smile of understanding crossed the woman’s face and she gestured to a woven bracelet with a golden hue and a swan charm. It was unique, even in an array of one of a kind bracelets. “I’ll take it.”

“And I’ll take whatever else they looked at.”

It was a small consolation in all of this, and again, it defied rational explanation. This was somewhat crazy on both Killian and David’s parts, but hell if he could stop it. He wanted to have a piece of her with him, even if it was something she’d never gotten a chance to have. It felt a bit better to have this tiny trinket, and it was even more miraculous to know that tomorrow they’d be at the beach and were planning to come back here.

“So that’s that then. We’ll just be sure to get out here early tomorrow.”

Graham said the words, convinced that everything was now all set, but still Killian felt restless. Tomorrow was better than nothing. He’d been afraid he’d never see her again only a few moments ago, but he also hated the idea of waiting. Now that he’d seen her and he knew she was out there, Killian was eager to meet this woman who entranced him. She had him under her spell and she’d never so much as said a word to him.

“Captain Jack’s,” David said to Will, confusing their friend in the process. “You asked which bar and it’s Captain Jack’s.”

“If you say so, mate,” Will said as they all filed back into the car.

“It’s on the north side of the island,” David said to Killian and Killian agreed it was the best place. It wasn’t a surefire plan, what with the resort being an all inclusive, and them not being one hundred percent certain they were even there, but it made Killian feel better. Upping his chances of finding this girl was all he could ask for and they were doing just that by going north.

The next few hours passed with painful slowness, and by the time they got to the bar Killian was a bit of a wreck. It didn’t help matters that all of this was uncertain. She might not come, she might not like him, hell she might already have someone. That last though in particular scared him half to death, but he had to believe that his instinctive reaction meant something. He’d never felt this way, losing himself at first sight like this. It would be the cruelest trick of fate if she was taken, and if she could never feel the same… God he hated to even think how much that would hurt.

“I feel like my hearts going to give out any second,” David said standing next to him and casing the place with the same intensity. “I know it’s crazy but… she’s just gotta be here, man. I don’t want to wait until tomorrow.”

Killian completely understood, and he was going to try and say some words of encouragement, however half-assed they would be but then something caught David’s eye and his friend’s whole demeanor changed. The excitement that pulsed off of him and the adoration told Killian that she was back and his own heart leapt at the prospect. If her friend was here, surely the girl he wanted was here too, right? But when he looked he only saw three brunettes, and the girl of his dreams was nowhere to be seen. This was upsetting in the extreme, but he waited patiently, knowing at the very least David’s girl could tell her where she was.

Funnily enough, the girl who had caught David’s notice was staring at him with almost the same level of intensity. She gazed at him for longer than strangers should, and then she blushed, and that was all it took for David to start moving towards her. Killian followed, noticing the other two women as he did.

“You think he’s the guy?” one of them whispered. “The one from the festival?”

“Oh totally. Look at her, she’s losing it. I just wish Emma was here to see it. Maybe she’d find her guy too.”

Emma – that must be his siren’s name. He heard it and it just clicked inside of his very being, like it belonged with him all this time. He wanted to say it aloud over and over again, to say it in the heat of passion when he’d kissed her senseless or driven her wild with need. But more than that he wanted to see her again.

“Where is she?” he asked, killing David’s attempt at a smooth first greeting and not giving a damn. “Emma, your friend. She was with you at the beach today.”

“Yes, she was,” David’s girl said. “She’s outside. She said she needed some air.”

Completely neglecting his manners Killian rushed off with only a quick, ‘thanks.’ Outside was a loose description of where she could be. At the front of the bar there were people milling around, but his feet took him to the coast, the place where he would go if he needed space. Out here in the darkness there were yellow lanterns and twinkle lights set up, and the pale glow of the moon, but none of it was needed. For there, with her feet in the waves and her hair whipping in the gentle breeze was his woman, radiating her own kind of light that could never be replicated.

Killian stood rooted to the spot, watching her, for longer than he could really know. Any real coherent thought fled the moment he saw her again. Well, the shape of her really, for in the dark, and from the back like this she was a silhouette, dancing at the shoreline, feet bare and hair flowing in the night’s breeze. Killian didn’t know if the music she swayed to was something she could hear from inside the bar or a melody from her head, but either way he stood transfixed, stunned by not only how beautifully she moved, but how freely she expressed herself. This moment was a snapshot into this woman’s very soul, and it was a happy one, a carefree one that didn’t give a damn about the noise or the buzzing all around them. This girl, Emma, just… was, and Killian couldn’t help moving closer, craving the chance to see this siren’s face.

“Come here often, love?” He asked, his voice carrying across the evening air, the slightest tremble discernable in his tone. Emma, for her part, didn’t even flinch, just shook her head without looking at him, as if he and his question were an afterthought.

“Definitely not as often as you use that line,” she quipped, and he couldn’t help himself. He laughed at her boldness, and he knew she was right. It was a line, but damn if he could come up with anything original. She stole the air from his lungs and the sense from his mind. He was lucky to have uttered anything at all.

“Forgive me, that was bad. Let me try again. Are you interested in a partner, or is this more a solo escapade you’ve got going here?”

Now Emma whipped her head towards him, and whatever he’d felt for her before ramped infinitely. She was a beautiful woman from any distance, but up close that was even more undeniable. Her soft, full lips tormented him because all he wanted was to claim them and see them swollen from his kisses, and the smattering of freckles on her skin spoke to lots of time out here in the sun. Her hair was hanging lose now, curled and silky, tempting his fingers which craved the change to run through it, and the dress she wore now was red and fiery, a complete transformation from the pale, pure yellow of this afternoon. He caught her scent on the air, a hint of lavender and something else he couldn’t place, but her eyes did the most damage, striking him with a blow of recognition and interest he never could have expected.

“It’s you.”

“Aye, love, it’s me.”

“Sorry about before. A couple of guys have come up to me and some of them forget that no means no.”

“Someone was bothering you?” Killian asked, his anger rising as he looked around for signs of dead men walking. Who would dare to bother his Emma? Oh shit, now he was really losing it, thinking of her as his when they’d barely even met. Only the gentle touch of her hand on his arm could pull him back.

“It’s okay, I can handle myself. I’ve been doing it all my life.”

He hated to think that she had to be her own defender, when she should be protected and provided for in every way she wished, but he loved the feel of her hand on him. Even when she removed it, realizing she’d touched him and pulling back with a little bit of embarrassment, he could feel her branded on his skin. And he liked it A lot.

“But how did you find me?” she asked, letting her happiness at seeing him slip when she probably didn’t mean to. “I mean, I saw you earlier, in town, but I thought you were gone…”

He reached out for her hand and she let him take it, creating a rush of pleasure as they made contact again. It emboldened Killian, and it made him feel more alive than anything else ever had. “I tried to find you earlier, but in the craziness I lost you. I admit I thought you might have been a dream. It was hard for me to imagine you could even be real.”

“But now you’re here. How?”

“Fate, destiny, and perhaps a little help from a local vendor.”

Emma’s eyes shone with wonder and he heard her gasp as he pulled the bracelet he procured earlier and presented it to her. “For you, love.”

“I don’t usually take gifts from strangers,” Emma said as he tied the strands of the trinket together, sealing it around her wrist. He smiled at the fact that he hadn’t introduced himself yet. He was forgetting himself, but thankfully, Emma didn’t seem to mind too much.

“My name’s Killian. Killian Jones. And you are?”

“Emma. Emma Swan.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma,” he said, meaning it more than he’d ever meant anything before.

“Yeah, you too,” she said and Killian’s chest swelled with pride. He was still holding onto her, his thumb running against the underside of her wrist as he felt her delicate skin. Her pulse beneath him was rapid, matching the beat of his own, and when he looked back up to her, her eyes were on his lips, torn between hunger, intrigue, and still a little bit of wariness. He wanted to kiss that worry she had away, to show her there would be no reason for fear, not where he was involved, but that might be taking things too fast. He needed something, anything, to show her he could be trusted or to give him just a little more time in her company.

At that moment the music changed and the song filtered over the stereo outside was slower and written out of love. It was intimate and seductive, and for Killian it proved the perfect opening. “So, love, about that dance… would you do me the honor?”

Emma smiled at him, setting him alight as she stepped into his arms, fitting like the piece he’d been missing for too long. It felt amazing to hold her close and sway back and forth with her. One song blurred to another, and another, until truth be told he was so lost in her he couldn’t tell how much time had passed. In the meantime they talked, they danced, they got to know each other but not just with words. This was a blending of two souls, and, if his suspicions were right, the evolution of a love at first sight story that would endure long past this trip.

“I can’t believe you live in New York too,” Emma said as they were finally walking back to the party to rejoin their friends. It was nearly midnight, but it felt like no time had passed at all. “What are the chances?”

“I couldn’t tell you that, love, but I will say I’m glad for it.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, her face a little flushed from their closeness. He stopped their walking, pulling her into his arms and tilting her chin up so her eyes met his.

“Aye. It makes the whole asking you out thing a bit more manageable. Not that distance would have stopped me. I’d have made it work, no matter how far away you may be.”

“You want to ask me out?” she asked, her voice hoarse from emotion and her eyes wide at the prospect.

“I want to do much more than that, love. And it’ll be more than one date I’m after, you can rest assured. But it’s a good place to start, don’t you think?”

“Hmm, maybe,” she said before smiling at him and edging a bit closer so her lips were mere inches from his.

“You’re not convinced?”

“Well, I kind of like the idea of starting with a chance meeting, some moonlight dancing, and a New Years’ kiss…”

Growling out his own approval Killian crushed his lips to hers, tasting her sweetness and savoring every bit of it. She was magic made real, and the feel of her on him, chasing the same high and the same bliss from being with him that he got with her was life altering. Lightening could strike them now and he’d never know, not when he already felt so much with Emma. This was the first kiss they’d ever shared and yet Killian knew it would be the last first kiss either of them ever had. This was the beginning of a new forever, and Emma was right, this was the best kind of start their story could have.

“I was thinking the kiss would come at midnight,” Emma said when they broke apart, her breathing ragged and her green eyes darker from the desire she was experiencing. “You know that’s kind of the tradition.”

“So you’re saying we should wait then? No more until -,”

He couldn’t get the words out before Emma was pulling him in for another kiss, and that was just fine by him. And as the rest of the night sped by, and the year changed from the old to the new, Killian was certain that this lucky happenstance would be something much bigger, and that this time next year and every year thereafter he and Emma would still be together and happy and whole.  

…………

On a boat, on a beach In the water, in the sand, in the back of a bar Cold beer in your hand Breaking hearts, breaking necks When we rolling down the street, heads turning all day when they see you with me I'm thinking everybody better stand in line 'Cause they need to know that your body's coming with me tonight They're like, "hey, who that there with the shades?" Like oh, the way you move to the bass Hold up Whole room gets to spinnin' from the second that you walk in And baby you look good all day, all night You look good, so fresh, so fine You look good, got everybody watching you like cameras in Hollywood Baby you look good Aw baby you look good Black dress, 2 the 9s, New Year's in a pent From the floor, to the roof, make the skyline spin Yeah, you're killing me boy in your black-faded jeans Ain't gotta work hard when you're smilin' at me Like, "hey, who that there with the shades?" Like oh, the way you move to the bass Hold up Whole room gets to spinnin' from the second that you walk in And baby you look good all day, all night You look good, so fresh, so fine You look good, got everybody watching you like cameras in Hollywood Baby you look good Aw baby you look good I'm thinking everybody better stand in line 'Cause they need to know that your body's coming with me tonight They're like, "hey, who that there with the shades?" Like oh, the way you move to the bass Hold up Whole room gets to spinnin' from the second that you walk in And baby you look good all day, all night You look good, so fresh, so fine You look good, got everybody watching you like cameras in Hollywood Baby you look good Come on baby you look good You look good Baby you look good

Post-Note: So there we have it. Just a little CS insta-love fluff to get us through the end of this year. Like I said, I hope you all have the best end to your 2019 and a wonderful start to your 2020. Thank you all so much for your kindness, support, and friendship this year. Looking forward to next year and wishing you all the best decade to come!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181, Part 182, Part 183, Part 184, Part 185, Part 186, Part 187, Part 188

[meanderingcaptainswanmusings]

So I’ve been MIA from Tumblr, but i needed to come back just for this. EVERYONE, please, read this absolutely heartwarming fic. Lana (@high-seas-swan) did a marvellous job in writing this piece and I am SO proud of her! She wrote something so real and warm, you’re constantly just rooting for Emma and Killian. Just reading it made me want to go back to Dublin and sit in a cozy pub with a nice glass of Connemara (or a pint of the black stuff).

Congratulations on your CSBB completion, lady! You did it!

Beauty in the Aftermath (CS FF) |  1/14

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

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

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

AN: I have to start by thanking @sambethe​ for encouraging my second CSBB try, without your message I don’t know if I would have ever found the courage to attempt this again. @imagnifika your art has made me smile more than you’ll know, thank you for bringing this story to life. @shippingtheswann​ Samantha! I couldn’t have asked for a better beta! Your kind words kept me going when I needed them most. And @halobxist​ & @meanderingcaptainswanmusings​ there would be no fic without you two. Thank you for everything. And finally but not in the least, thanks to all that are running @captainswanbigbang and everyone involved. What an amazing, talented, lovely crew. So happy to be apart of this. Go check out all the fantastic stories and art that have been created for you!

Ok, ok!! It’s finally time! Come to take a trip to Ireland with me :)

Beauty in the Aftermath - Chapter 1

“Granny, I got one for you,” Emma calls out from her spot at the counter. She swivels on the stool, pausing a moment to glance outside. Steely coloured clouds hang low in the sky, threats of a storm looming close. The occasional fat raindrop dampens the empty sidewalk, keeping the locals inside their homes, leaving the diner quiet for the afternoon.

Emma spins back to face the kitchen doors and waits patiently for the woman everyone in town calls Granny to emerge. This is a regular game they play, and she knows the older woman is never able to resist.

Keep reading

[artistic-writer]

Sparking the Pavement :: CS Moto GP AU :: E

Title: Sparking the Pavement by @artistic-writer Rating: E (eventually) Summary: Killian Jones has everything he has ever dreamed of.  He likes fast bikes and even faster women, that is until almost losing his brother makes him rethink his life choices.  And then a chance encounter with a blonde bombshell on the race track gives him the chance to change and find love, but as usual, team politics get in the way and for the first time in his life, Killian can’t just get what he wants.  Moto GP racing AU. Warnings: This chapter dives right in with character death, and for this reason, it is under a cut. A/N: So here is my Moto GP AU that I have been working on for a few months now (the muse gets what the muse wants) and I couldn’t wait to share it with you all!  Killian’s racing career is loosely based on that of the Nicky Hayden who was a fantastic GP racer but sadly killed at the age of 35 when he was hit by a car whilst competing in a road race on a bicycle.  I was so saddened by his death I felt I had to name Liam’s daughter after him.  Much thanks to @hollyethecurious who agreed to beta this, and to @doodlelolly0910 who regularly listens to me ranting about wanting to write when my fingers don’t want to work.

Taglist: @resident-of-storybrooke @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @hookedonapirate @winterbaby89 @courtorderedcake @initiala @cocohook38 @branlovesouat @teamhook @snidgetsafan @sherlockianwhovian @shireness-says @wingedlioness @lenfaz @therooksshiningknight @ilovemesomekillianjones @bmbbcs4evr @blowmiakisscolin @deathbycaptainswan @onceuponaprincessworld @chinawoodfan  @seriouslyhooked @snowbellewells @wordsmith-storyweaver @jennjenn615 @delightfully-difficult-pirate @doodlelolly0910 @tiganasummertree @hookedmom @thejollyroger-writer @rachie1940 @unworried-corsair @cs-forlife @notoriouscs @killian-whump (for this ch)

My full taglist is on my main computer, so I am using it for my werewolf fic for now - if you do/do not want to be included, just let me know :)

It was only supposed to be a bit of fun. It was never supposed to end this way.

The monotonous tone of Liam’s heart monitor rang out in the room, Killian’s body cold and frozen to the spot in the doorway where he had been stopped by a nurse. His fingers gripped the doorframe, knuckles white, the whole room buzzing with activity but in slow motion. Liam’s lifeless form was half covered, his leathers cut from his body like paper, discarded to the floor of the trauma bay at the feet of the people desperately trying to save his life. One doctor pounded a clenched fist against his chest and Killian flinched, unable to tear his eyes from the scene before him.

It was only supposed to be one race. It was never supposed to end this way.

The sound grew louder in Killian’s ears, the shouting of the doctors and nurses fading out and replaced by the high pitched tone of the machine. It jolted a few times, coinciding with another punch to his brother���s still chest, but it continued on, ringing in Killian’s ears. His throat went dry and he managed to shift his gaze when Liam’s arm fell off the edge of the gurney, limp and heavier than usual, his knuckles banging against the metal bed frame when they shocked his body. There was a pause, the whole room standing still, but nothing happened.

It was supposed to be for Liam’s birthday. It wasn’t supposed to end this way.

There was no blood. There hadn’t been a single speck of the stuff, its presence as absent as Liam’s heartbeat. They shocked him again, nurses raising their arms and standing away from the bed as the doctor placed the flat pedals of the defibrillator to Liam’s bare chest and pulled the triggers. Liam’s body went rigid, his back arching off the bed, and then they waited, all eyes on the monitor he had been hooked up to. The same one with the infernal beep that made Killian’s eyes well with more tears.

It wasn’t supposed to end this way.

He felt hot inside his leathers, panic prickling his skin and bile rising to the back of his throat. Time stood still, the lump in his throat dry and sticking to the back of his mouth like an unwanted parasite. Killian staggered a little, his chest heaving inside of his suit, constricted by the tightness of the groin to neck zipper, and he rubbed a shaking hand over his face.

“Call it,” one of the doctors said solemnly over the tone of the monitor, and Killian’s head snapped up at his words.

“No!” he shouted, rushing into the room. “Shock him again!”

“Mr. Jones-” the doctor began, flattening his palm to the leathers covering Killian’s chest and stopping him in his tracks. Killian let out a desperate cry, looking down at the hand on his chest before looking up and meeting the doctors sorrowful eyes.

“Shock him again,” Killian growled through clenched teeth, the single beep of the machine at Liam’s bedside the only sound in the room. “Now.”

“We’ve done all we can,” the doctor said, looking back to Liam’s naked body lying lifeless.

“Do more!” Killian roared, sniffing, his entire body shaking with anger.

“He’s gone, Mr. Jones,” another doctor said sadly, resting a hand on Killian’s shoulder. He shook it off aggressively, another pained sob escaping his throat. “I’m sorry.”

A nurse reached for the machine, flicking the switch and sending the room into a dull silence. It was deafening, every pair of eyes on Killian as the doctor looked at the clock and called time of death on the only family he had left.

“No!” Killian cried, shaking his head quickly. “No, no, no, no, no, no!” He screamed, crumpling to the floor and shaking. He buried his face in his hands, his body slumping against the doctor’s legs, one hand clutching at the unknown man’s calf like a child.

Nobody knew how quickly life could change more so than Killian. Racing was dangerous, it always would be. The very nature of a human sitting on top of such a powerful piece of engineering meant that as some stage, someone would die. But not Liam. Not like this. Not one week from his birthday. The sound of Killian’s cries echoed down the halls, nurses stopping in their tracks and looking towards the sound filled with such anguish that some of them shed tears of their own.

The room emptied around him, Killian still clutching the leg of the doctor beside him who let him, holding a hand to the back of Killian’s head and stroking his helmet flattened hair. Killian clutched the thin scrub material of the doctors pants, his leathers squeaking as he fell closer to the floor, his weight finally too much for the doctor who stepped sideways and let him fall. The doctor knelt down beside him, the older man offering him a comforting hand to his shoulder, unable to do much else.

“Is there anyone we can call for you?” he asked tentatively. “A wife? A friend?”

Elsa.

“Oh shit,” Killian sighed suddenly, ignoring the doctor and lifting his head to look at his deceased brother once more. He scrambled to his feet, his shock riddled body moving clumsily towards the bed because of the restrictive leathers. He tripped on Liam’s ruined leather suit, grabbing his brother’s arm as he tumbled and tugging the body towards him. Liam’s head rolled sideways and Killian was met with his cold, dead stare.

“Mr. Jones?” The doctor prodded, watching his odd behaviour.

“What am I supposed to tell Elsa?” Killian sobbed at his brother, ignoring the doctor behind him. He pawed at Liam’s face, his cooling skin almost hard under his touch, and stroked his fingers through Liam’s floppy brown hair so it wasn’t near his eyes. It had fallen forward over his face and he knew his brother always hated that. “And Rosie? God, Liam, you utter bastard.”

Killian’s knees found the tiled floor beside the bed and he began crying again, the rush of overwhelming emotion surging to his tear ducts once more. His eyes searched Liam’s but he found nothing there. No answer to his dilemma. No light behind the blue hues. Nothing. Liam was gone and he was to blame, and now he had to tell his wife that their only child would grow up without a father.

“You bastard,” Killian whispered into Liam’s chest, his skin still warm against the side of his cheek where he rested his head. It made Killian hurt more and he found Liam’s arm hanging over the side of the bed, lifting it and holding his hand to his cheek. Any second he expected Liam’s fingers to flex against his stubbled jaw, to tell him things would be okay, but instead he was met with no movement, only the cold sting of Liam’s wedding ring reminding him of what he had to do.

--

“Will, it’s Killian,” he mumbled into the mouthpiece of the off white phone. The nurses station had been good enough to let him use it to call a family member, but Killian wasn’t sure he could call Elsa. She had known him his entire life, so she deserved to know what had happened face to face.

“Alright, mate,” Will chirped down the phone. Curse him for having a day off today too. “I’m glad you called actually,” Will continued hurriedly. “I’ve been meaning to ask-”

“Will, stop,” Killian huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The line went silent. Will had known him for no time at all compared to Liam or Elsa, but he knew him well enough to recognise the tone of his voice meant something was wrong. Killian sighed into the phone, his fingers gripping the device as tightly as he could, the plastic squeaking under his fingertips. Static on the line crackled a little as he moved, throwing his head back in an attempt to swallow the painful lump in his throat, the ceiling lights burning into his retinas.

“Killian,” Will prompted his team mate over the line, concern in his voice. “What’s wrong?”

Killian sighed again, licking his bottom lips as a breath caught in his throat and he felt the sting of fresh tears pricking at his eyelids. “There’s been an accident,” he whimpered, gulping hard.

“An accident?” Will repeated. “What? Where? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Will,” Killian lied. He wasn’t fine. It felt like he never would be again.

“Then what the bloody hell is going on?” Will asked quickly, insisting on an answer from his team mate.

Killian froze, his tongue running over the ridges of his teeth in the back of his mouth, unable to form the words. Even the inside of his cheeks hurt, his saliva glands producing a sudden gush of spit, eager to soothe the coarse texture of his throat. Killian heard a noise behind him and turned to see two nurses covering Liam’s body with a white sheet whilst another collected what was left of his leather suit from the floor. The tears wouldn’t be stopped this time, and Killian coughed out a sob, a sorrowful wail echoing down the phone line.

“Mate,” Will soothed, instantly knowing that something was wrong. “Is it Rosie?” He asked tentatively. Killian had no children of his own, and his niece meant the world to him. She was nearly nine, growing up into a perfect little girl by her mother’s standards, except for the fact she liked to hang out in pit lanes with grown men and was more often than not, covered in grease.

Killian shook his head. “Gods, no,” he breathed, almost relieved, but another wave of tears erupted from his eyes at the thought of having to tell his niece her father was gone.

“Then what is it?” Will urged him, panic in his own voice now. “I can’t help you if-”

“It’s Liam,” Killian said bluntly, heaving a huge breath. “He’s dead.”

“What do you bloody mean, dead?” Will said gruffly, snorting a laugh at the end of his words. “I saw him his morning before he went to meet you.” If Killian didn’t know better he thought he might have heard a small break in the voice of his friend.

“I know.” Killian gulped hard, letting Will process the new information.

“We were tinkering with the bike, and he told me “less gas” in that bloody god awful American way he does.” Will was rambling and Killian knew it, but he let him, content to listen. “It’s that wife of his, invading his Britishness with her American wiles I tell you. None of us are safe, Killian. American women might be dynamite in bed but let them into your life for long enough and you start talking like them, you will. Just like Liam.”

“I know,” Killian agreed softly, but he really hadn’t heard a word his friend had said.

Another silence fell between them, neither knowing what to say. Killian listened to Will’s breathing, increasing in pace and broken by the odd hitch here and there, a sure sign the younger rider was crying. They both knew, from losing friends before, that in their world, no one ever jokes about anyone else being dead. It was a reality they chose to live with every day, dicing with death everytime they got on a bike.

“You went to the track, didn’t you?” Will finally said and Killian could tell it was through a clenched jaw.

“Aye,” Killian nodded, his voice higher than normal.

“And he got on a bloody bike, didn’t he?” Will surmised, Killian nodding as the words entered his ear. Will couldn’t see him of course, but he knew the answer. Killian heard Will scream at the top of his lungs, obviously holding the phone away from his mouth because of the way the sound was muffled, almost distant.

It was unmistakable frustration, the only way Will knew how to release the feelings he had inside. Liam was more than his team mate’s brother, and he was more than the team mechanic. To him, Liam was like a father figure, his own having been absent his entire life, and he had fallen into the Jones family as if he had always belonged. The only thing Will had ever been given by his own father was his surname, and he cared more about the Jones name than he liked to admit, but he didn’t have to. Killian knew.

“Why?” Will screamed, making Killian pinch his eyes closed even harder. His head pounded from crying and he felt dehydrated, the hospital too warm for his brother to be so cold. “Why Liam? He has a daughter, and a wife, Killian.”

“I know,” Killian cried, his words almost not there. “How do I tell Elsa, Will? He promised to never race again.”

“Who was he racing?” Will demanded, a little more accusation in his tone that Killian would have liked. “Because when I get my hands on them-”

“Me.” Killian’s words stopped Will dead, another silence. “He was racing me.”

Will had no answer and Killian didn’t need one. He felt guilty enough as it was, and his friend knew it. Will had the courtesy to hold his tongue at least, and Killian would be forever grateful for that.

“I thought, for his birthday,” Killian began, but his words trailed off, his own mind berating him for such a foolish idea. “He hit the bump, you know the one on turn twelve, and he was braking, God, Liam, why were you braking!” Killian growled, slamming his hand into the desk he was leaning on. His lips pulled tight, the skin around them turning white with his anger. Nobody braked there, especially not on the blemished bump of tarmac that every rider knew to avoid. It always caused a crash, without a doubt, and Liam had been in front of Killian’s bike when he saw the glow of red indicating his brother’s late braking.

“Did he hit the wall?” Will asked. Under normal circumstances, a normal person would have been offended by such a question, but for a racer it was second nature. Their whole lives were about scrutinising accidents to make sure they didn’t happen again. “I’m sorry,” Will apologised quickly, realising the insensitive words.

“It’s alright, mate,” Killian assured him quietly. “The bike hit the wall,” Killian told him, closing his eyes, the scene playing out behind his eyelids as if it had just happened.

Liam had hit the bump under braking, losing control of his bike at speed, which had slid out from under him. It had tumbled across the tarmac, sliding across the trap of gravel and coming to a stop as it hit the wall of tyres at the outer edge of the track. Under normal circumstances, a rider would lift his legs and ride the tarmac on his back, the built in suit protection of his leathers insuring his head was held aloft and away from the ground. Only, in this instance, it meant that Liam’s head and neck were parallel to the ground when he skidded into the wreckage of his bike and severed his spinal cord instantly.

Killian didn’t have to be a doctor to know what had happened to his brother. Neither did Will.

“Alright, mate, that’s enough,” Will said softly. He could sense Killian’s reluctance to revisit anymore details of the accident, so stopped his friend mid story. He was met with a thankful sigh and the sound of more tears. “I’m coming to you now, alright?”

“I need to tell Elsa,” Killian sobbed pathetically.

“We’ll tell her,” Will told him firmly. “Together. Liam was my family, too.”

“You’re a good man, Scarlet,” Killian said, a small smile playing across his lips.

“Don’t go telling everyone,” Will scoffed, always falling on humour when he was upset, hurt, or distressed. Killian didn’t laugh, instead blinking away yet more tears. “I’ll be right there,” Will promised and then the call ended, the click of a disconnected line and the dial tone ringing through Killian’s ears.

--

Killian would never forget the look on Elsa’s face when she pulled open the door and stared at his tear stained features. She knew. Killian didn’t know how, but she knew, her hand clutching the fabric of her shirt right above her heart as she shook her head from side to side just as he had when the doctors had given up on his brother. He was at her side instantly, all of his worries about telling her disappearing as he caught her before she hit the hardwood floor.

Killian wrapped his arms around his sister-in-law, Will quickly stepping over the bundle of people in the doorway and heading to the lounge where he knew Hayden-Rose would be playing her games console, no doubt trying to beat her father’s lap times on the computer game version of their life. Only, their life wasn’t a game, and Liam had no extra lives to fall back on. He was gone, and somehow, Elsa knew.

“I can’t breathe,” she sobbed, clawing at her throat and Killian release his hold on her just long enough to pull back and look at her face. “I’m going to be sick,” she gasped, jumping to her feet and rushing up the stairs. Killian watched her go, closing the front door quietly and looking down to his feet.

Will appeared, poking his head out of the lounge at the sound of Elsa’s footsteps pounding the staircase. He gave Killian a look, and followed his gaze, the sound of Liam’s wife retching into the toilet bowl echoing through the upstairs of the house. Killian licked his lips nervously, reaching for the railing as he took a step onto the stairs, knowing that what was about to transpire was worse than watching his brother die.

Elsa was sobbing into the toilet when he found her, face pressed to the cold, white plastic seat and her eyes tightly closed. Her whole body rocked with her crying, her knees tucked under herself at a strange angle that seemed almost impossible. She hugged the bowl, arms stretching around the porcelain like it would comfort her, and she didn’t move when Killian approached. Her wails bounced off the white tiles, vibrating through his ears, breaking his already damaged heart into even more pieces.

“I’m sorry,” he offered weakly, reaching out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“How?” Elsa demanded suddenly, her tone changing and taking him back. She was angry, he had never seen her like this before, and she pushed herself to her feet with a determination that frightened him. Killian rose with her, taking a step back, jaw slack with shock. “How?” she repeated on a growl.

“Elsa, I don’t think-”

“Tell me,” she insisted, advancing on him. Killian stumbled backwards, quickly shooting a glance behind his feet when he stepped back into the hallway. “Was he racing?” she sobbed, her tone changing instantly and her face erupting into sadness again. “Killian, tell me he wasn’t on a damn bike.”

She was begging him to tell her. She wanted - no needed - to know that her husband hadn’t promised her his racing days were over only to get on a bike and kill himself. Killian looked at her, his bottom lip quivering over the look in her eyes, gulping down another lump in his throat. He tilted his head sideways, offering her a silent apology that he knew would never be enough.

“No,” Elsa mumbled defiantly. Her hand found her face, fingers stretching over her furrowed brow and she began to pace back and forth in front of him. “It doesn’t make sense,” she frowned, her words catching in her cries. “He promised, Killian. He promised.”

“I know,” Killian said for the millionth time that afternoon, sick of his own pathetic response.

“Who was he racing?” Elsa demanded, back to angry. She dropped her hand to her side, stalling her pacing and turning to face him once more. “Was it Cassidy? That bastard.” Elsa’s anger was directed instantly, and for a second, Killian felt sorry for Neal, who had only ever been a rival on the track. He had played no part in Liam’s death. That had all been on him.

“It was me,” Killian croaked. His words hung in the back of his throat, catching in the dryness of his mouth. He coughed and she looked at him, narrowing her stare and another sob she was unable to stop tumbling from her mouth. “I thought, for his birthday-” Killian began, but his words were cut short by a cracking noise as Elsa’s hand made contact with his face.

It stung, her palm flat and broad against the side of his cheek, but Killian deserved nothing less. He turned his head away with the slap, unable to look back at the woman he had widowed. Hot, pin like prickles spread over his face where he was sure Elsa had left a mark, but he simply closed his eyes and tried to drown out the rage filled crying of the woman in front of him. He understood her fury, like no one else, so when she screeched like an injured animal and slapped him again, he let her.

And again. And again. Until her hands balled into tight fists and her abuse turned into punches, raining down against the hard planes of his torso. He stood stoic, letting Elsa pound against his body, blow after blow weakening as she ran out of energy and slumped her body against his. Killian wrapped his arms around her, her crying turning to uncontrollable screaming that pierced his ears, her last remaining anger leaving her body as she pressed her face into his shirt and clutched the material in her hands.

All he could do was hold her. It was more than he felt he deserved in that moment, but it was strangely comforting, too. Killian’s hand found Elsa’s back and he let out a sigh, resting the side of his face to the softness of her white blonde hair, braided as always, the end of it tickling at his hands. Elsa sniffed, shaking her head, her forehead rubbing at Killian’s shirt, but she didn’t say anything more.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” Killian cried, his own tears resurfacing and rolling down his cheeks.

“Then don’t,” Elsa mumbled into his shirt, taking a huge breath. “It’s not real. This is a dream. Any minute I’ll wake up,” she sniveled.

“I wish that were true, lass,” Killian wept with her.

He could tell her not to cry, and that things would be alright, but he would be lying. Their lives had changed forever. Elsa was a widow at thirty-two, with a daughter approaching nine years old who would never know of all the things Liam had planned for her. He wanted to watch her grow, become the first female MotoGP champion, and follow in the family tradition despite being a different gender. They were going to blow gender roles right out of the racing world, but not now. Now Hayden-Rose would only know the day her father left her to pursue her dreams alone.

“How am I supposed to tell Rosie?” Elsa sagged again, needing his embrace more than ever. Killian sighed, his grip around the woman in his arms tightening. He had no answer for her, but he was pretty sure, as he spied the blank expression of his niece over the shoulder of his sister-in-law, Hayden-Rose already knew.

[searchingwardrobes]

CS Fic Rec Monday: My Favorite Fluffy Fridays

For today’s @csficrecmonday, I want to highlight @whimsicallyenchantedrose and her Fluffy Friday series. It’s up to 146 enstallments now, which is hard to believe for those of us who have been looking forward to Fridays since the hiatus before season five. For others, however, you may feel like it’s daunting to start a series like this. Well, here is my list of favorite Fluffy Fridays to get you started, and each one is a quick, fun read. Though, like potato chips, once you start you may not be able to stop!

The Scarf : Remember that “blink and you miss it moment” in season two when Killian broke into Emma’s office to get his hook back, and the scarf he used to bandage her hand was in there? Well, this deleted scene shows how it ended up there. One of my all time faves that I have re-read multiple times!

The Road Trip (Two Parts): What was that Captain Cobra Swan road trip like from New York to Storybrooke in season three? Multiple fics have answered that question, but this one is a fun, fluffy, and hilarious take on it.

Once Upon a Coffee Shop: A coffee shop au with a dash of secret admirer; how can you go wrong?

Beware Lurking Squirrels: They were roommates! And then he got his wisdom teeth taken out, and hilarity (and feelings) ensue.

Playing House: A traveling salesman mistakenly think Emma and Killian are David and Mary Margaret, so they play along for his sales pitch. Adorable!

Santa Claus is Coming to Town: This one is hilarious! A Christmas curse has everyone in town belting out Christmas tunes. Jen did a perfect job of matching songs to characters - this one is a riot any time of year!

On Waxed Mustaches and Perms: Okay, confession, one reason I love this one and read it multiple times is because I gave Jen the prompt (yep, Jen, that was me!) Anyways, this is Lily’s reaction to the news that her old friend is dating Captain Hook.

Parking Services: A college au with one of my favorite lines ever: “Was it possible to fall in love at first sight with someone who was yelling at you?”

New York Christmas Serenade (3 Parts): What if the day Killian showed up at Emma’s door in New York was at Christmas time? Fantastic canon divergence!

The Magic Mirror: On top of the beanstalk, Emma and Killian find a mirror in the giant’s treasures that shows your future. I think you know where this is going . . .

The Talking Phone: A slight canon divergence in which Emma gives Killian a phone in season two while he’s in the hospital. Hilarious texting ensues!

Cupid's Grenade: Cupid shows up in Storybrooke during 3B and sets off a love grenade in Granny’s. I think that pretty much sums it up, but oh Emma and those walls . . .

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Fluffy Fridays—Chapter 152: Cold Comfort--pt. 1

Fluffy Fridays—Chapter 152: Cold Comfort--pt. 1

Pairing:  Captain Swan

Summary:   A series of unrelated, fluffy one shots featuring Killian Jones and  Emma Swan and the relationship that makes us all swoon. Will contain  both canon and AU stories. My contribution to Operation Rainbow Kisses  and Unicorn Stickers (aka, my attempt to drown out the season 4 finale  angst with ridiculous levels of fluff.)

Other Chapters: ( 1) ( 2) ( 3) ( 4) ( 5) (6) ( 7) ( 8) ( 9) ( 10) ( 11) ( 12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31) (32) (33) (34) (35) (36) (37) (38) (39) (40) (41) (42) (43) (44) (45) (46) (47) (48) (49) (50) (51) (52) (53) (54) (55) (56) (57) (58) (59) (60) (61) (62) (63) (64) (65) (66) (67) (68) (69) (70) (71) (72) (73) (74) (75) (76) (77) (78) (79) (80) (81) (82) (83) (84) (85) (86) (87) (88) (89) (90) (91) (92) (93) (94) (95) (96) (97) (98) (99) (100) (101) (102) (103) (104) (105) (106) (107) (108) (109) (110) (111) (112) (113) (114) (115) (116) (117) (118) (119) (120) (121) (122) (123) (124) (125) (126) (127) (128) (129) (130) (131) (132) (133) (134) (135) (136) (137) (138) (139) (140) (141) (142) (143) (144) (145) (146) (147) (148) (149) (150) (151) (153) (154) (155) (156) (157) (158) (159) (160) (161) (162) (163) (164) (165) (166) (167) (168) (169) (170) (171) (172) (173) (174)

(ao3) (ff.net)

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CS genre: hurt/comfort, snowed in together AU

It had been a day.  A terrible, no good, very bad, you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me kind of day.  Emma would say it couldn’t get any worse, but she knew that’d just be tempting fate.

Turning up her defroster, she hunched over her steering column, trying to peer through the one spot on her windshield that was still clear in the middle of what was turning into a nor’easter of mammoth proportions.  The snow fell thick and fast, the wind tossing her yellow bug as though it was a plaything.  Now, at eight o’clock at night, it was so dark she could barely see ten feet in front of her car, even with her high beams on.

Why had she thought impulsively jumping in her car and driving to her brother and sister-in-law’s place just before a snowstorm was a good idea?

She hadn’t thought; just reacted.

This morning she’d walked into her New York apartment to find her boyfriend, Neal in a very--compromising--position with his “friend” Tamara.  Things had been going downhill with Neal for some time, to such an extent that Emma had been considering breaking it off with him anyway, but the fact that he would bring Tamara to her place and parade their affair in front of her was beyond the last straw.

Neal had tried to make some lame excuse about how they’d tripped, and just happened to fall like that, but Emma wasn’t an idiot.  Tripping didn’t make clothes magically fall off.  She’d tossed him out on his ass, but not before giving him a good swift punch to the face.

Ever since she was little, there was one person who could always make her feel better even in the worst situation: her brother, David, and so she hadn’t thought, hadn’t planned, hadn’t even tossed a change of clothes into a bag for an overnight stay.  She’d simply gotten in her car and started driving.

Well it was too late to turn back now.  She could sort out the should-haves later.  Now, she just had to focus on staying on the road for the five miles she had left before she reached Storybrooke and the comfort of the Nolan household.

No sooner had the thought entered her mind then Emma hit a slick patch.  The bug began spinning, the rear wheels heading in one direction and the front in another.  Calling on all her snowy-weather driving skills, Emma tried to steer into the skid, but it was no use.  There was no traction to be found on this stupid road.  She could only watch helplessly as the bug hurtled into a massive snowbank.

For a moment, Emma sat still, waiting for her heart rate to return to normal, listening to her windshield wipers uselessly swipe at the swiftly falling snow.  Finally, realizing she’d missed hitting anything worse than a mound of freshly fallen powder, Emma put the car in reverse.

Her wheels spun.

She tried a number of times to maneuver out of the snowbank, but there was no hope for it.  She was completely and utterly stuck.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, her car suddenly sputtered and died.  Glancing at the dashboard, Emma saw the reason.  The bug was on empty.  She hit her steering wheel, the frustration making her want to scream.  What else could go wrong?

Fishing her cell phone out of her pocket, she saw exactly what else could go wrong.  Apparently, in her haste to leave the city, she’d not only failed to gas up her car, she’d failed to charge her phone too.

So here she was, stuck on the side of the road in the middle of literally nowhere.  Her car was dead, her phone was dead, and given that she hadn’t even called to tell David she was coming, no one would even be looking for her.

Fantastic.

It didn’t take long for the temperature in her car to start to plummet, situated as she was in the middle of a bitterly cold snowstorm.  Emma realized she didn’t have a lot of options.  She wouldn’t last till morning out in the elements like this, and there was next to no chance another motorist would pass by to help her out.

There was no hope for it.  She’d have to walk the last five miles to her brother’s place.

In the middle of a freaking blizzard.

If she got out of this alive, she was going to kill Neal for getting her into this mess.

So a five mile hike in the snow.  Not fun, but she could handle this, right?  

Famous last words.

Emma had been walking for about a mile when her right foot landed awkwardly in a pothole covered in snow.  Shooting pain radiated up her leg as her ankle twisted violently, and she landed on her ass in the middle of the road.

Eyes watering from the cold and the pain, Emma had the most absurd desire to laugh.  It was just so ridiculous, all of it!  She was going to freeze to death out here, less than five miles from her hometown, and probably no one would even find her until the spring thaw.  At least she wouldn’t have any problem finding ice to put on her rapidly ballooning ankle.

But Emma was built of stronger stuff than that.  She’d be damned if Neal freaking Cassidy and his inability to keep it in his pants was the cause of her death.

Grabbing a fallen branch on the side of the road, she got awkwardly to her feet and experimentally put weight on her bad ankle.  

She nearly buckled under the pain.  No way she was going to be able to walk four miles on that ankle.  Time for plan B.  She needed to find some sort of a shelter where she could hole up and wait out the storm.

Emma swiveled her head one way then the other looking for--well, she didn’t really know what she was looking for, just any indication of which direction she should head to find said shelter.  In the distance, she saw a light.  It was faint, hard to see through the driving snow, but it was there.  Someone lived out in the woods.

With the kind of luck she was having today that someone was probably an axe murderer, but at this point, beggars couldn’t be choosers.  Taking a deep breath, Emma began the slow, agonizing process of hobbling off the beaten path and toward the cabin that, with any luck, would be her salvation.

Walking through deep snow on a sprained ankle was a painstaking endeavor, and by the time she reached the door of the cute, cozy log cabin in the woods, she could barely feel her fingers, toes or face in the bitter cold.

She could only hope the person inside would let her in before the frostbite set in.

She knocked, the hard wood of the door painful against her cold, tingling fingers.  She heard footsteps and a moment later the door opened.

“Swan? Is that you?”

Emma groaned.  Of all the luck.  Of all the secluded cabins in the woods she could have stumbled upon (quite literally in this case), of course she happened to stumble upon the one belonging to her brother’s idiot best friend, Killian Jones.

Given the choice, she might prefer to end up with the axe murderer.

 Notes:

--Hi everyone and happy Friday!  I hope you’re staying warm and safe after the winter weather so much of the country has had over the last week.  We got close to a foot of snow and bitterly cold temperatures early this week, but at least living in the north, I’m used to winter.  My heart goes out to those of you in Texas or other places where you’re less equipped to deal with it.

--But of course, just like just about anything else in the world, this very cold, snowy week was nearly begging to be turned into a CS au.  This particular installment of Fluffy Fridays will have two parts (most likely; I suppose it’s possible I could draw it out, but honestly, this probably could have been a one shot, except for the fact that I just wanted to get something posted without letting another Friday pass us by).

--Up next: Emma is forced to take shelter with Killian in his cabin in the woods.  We find out just why it is that Emma can’t stand Killian (hint: it involves pining and an embarrassing encounter after the consumption of too much rum).  Hopefully the night together will force Emma and Killian to talk out their differences and move from enemies to something far more enjoyable.

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