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sanjoongie · 2 years ago

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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

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #pirateeznet #thekpopuniverse #february filth fest #ateez smut #park seonghwa smut #atz smut #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa scenarios #ateez scenarios #reader x seonghwa #ღatz #topaz's work

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kazoosandfannypacks · 2 years ago

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"Open to Interpretation" by kazoosandfannypacks

Chapter 11/16: The Graduation Pairing: CaptainSwan Rating: General Word Count: (1.5K/24K) Summary: Emma Swan is appalled at works by modern artist Killian Jones- until a handsome stranger convinces her otherwise- and after introducing himself as the artist in question, he invites her out on a date. As their relationship develops, they find that they might not be as different from each other as originally though. Chapter Summary: Emma thinks about Killian as they attend the graduation together. Tags: au, fluff, captain swan, modern au Author's notes: n/a Taglist: @zahara @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @booksteaandtoomuchtv @jrob64 @tiganasummertree @anmylica @teamhook @undercaffinatednightmare @gingerchangeling @lonelyspectator @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @cs-rylie @pirateprincessofpizza @lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart [if you'd like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

Also on Ao3!

Three weeks ago, Emma's plans for this evening would've been some big anniversary dinner with her ex. Two weeks ago, today's plans would've been ramen and eating ice cream from the carton as she made fun of some cheesy hallmark movie. A week ago, it would've been seeing if this cute guy from the museum would take her out on another date. Tonight, though, it turned out to be going to a graduation with him, after taking a bit of a road trip together and meeting his family.

Emma noticed something off about Killian ever since they'd met up with his dad. He seemed more nervous than he had been when he was giving his speech at the benefit dinner, and more restrained than when he'd been entertaining guests at it.

She'd almost been afraid to try to see what was wrong, in case it was too personal for him to bring up, but when he put his arm around her and pulled her a touch closer- almost as though he needed her, needed her comfort and support- she decided to try and soften his mood a little. After all, that was why he brought her along, wasn't it? To make this weekend bearable?

"So let's see," Emma asked Killian, "if when we met, you didn't tell me you were the artist who painted the paintings we were discussing, and last week you didn't tell me you were hosting the benefit dinner you took me to, what does that mean for tonight?"

"What do you mean by that, love?"

"Am I gonna find out halfway through the ceremony that you're valedictorian or something like that?" Emma teased, "Or the keynote speaker, or school principal or something?"

He smiled, her humor evidently softening him up well.

"Don't worry, Swan," he said, "whatever happens this time, I'm just as much a victim as you are."

"It's more exciting that way anyways," Emma said.

"And I want to savor every exciting moment with you, Swan."

She'd've given him a witty response, but then the lights dimmed, and the ceremony began.

Emma had once read that a graduation ceremony is like the end credits of a movie you've never seen before, and, in this case, it was one where none of the actors were even familiar to her, though she'd heard one of their names before. As such, she found her mind wandering as she sat through the ceremony- and the street her mind chose to wander was "Killian Jones Avenue."

Even something as small as the way his hand rested on her shoulder was notable- with a grip both strong and gentle- firm enough for her to believe he was strong, but soft enough for her to believe he'd never use that strength against her.

"It must be the artist's touch," Emma thought, "as intentional with every move towards me as with his paintbrush on any other masterpiece."

A masterpiece. She hadn't thought of herself as a "masterpiece" for quite a while- since well before her last relationship officially crashed and burned. Maybe that's why the breakup hadn't really come as much of a shock to her as it could've- because, no matter what she tried, he'd stopped looking at her long before then.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Killian looking at her, his eyes fixed on her instead of on whatever was going on onstage, smiling at her as if maybe she truly was, as he kept saying, a masterpiece.

"I was a fool for saying no to him earlier," Emma thought, "he's gorgeous, talented, sensitive, sincere, successful enough to make money off his mere existence- he's got 'boyfriend material' written all over him. But that's what I thought about the last one, and the one before that- and all the ones before that, really. I'm just not ready to go through all that again."

When he'd asked her to pursue something more serious, she'd prided herself on keeping her guard up, on protecting herself from the inevitable betrayal, on coming up with a response in advance for when he, as they all do, protested her "unfairness" in rejecting him.

But his protest never came. When she said she wasn't ready, he didn't tell her to take a chance on him, or try to sell her on all his remarkable qualities, or tell her she was a fool for turning him down and that she can't find a catch like him just anywhere- though it would've been true. Instead, he told her it was alright, that he just wanted her to know he had no intentions yet to leave her, and practically apologized for coming on so strong before reassuring her in her decision to keep things as they were.

That was when it clicked for Emma. The fact that he didn't try to change her mind, that he respected her decision to guard her heart, that he was so willing to accept Emma exactly as she already was- it was enough to almost make her wish that she had changed her mind, that she had let her guard down, that she'd let herself become more for him.

But that's how she got herself into these messes in the first place- a guy would seem like he wasn't gonna hurt her, she'd let him into her walls, and he'd tear them down from the inside out, leaving her vulnerable to whatever betrayal he had in store once he was bored of her. Maybe Killian wasn't like that. Maybe Killian Jones was exactly who he said he was, and maybe he wasn't going to hurt her, and maybe this relationship would be the one- but maybe this was all an act he'd only keep up for so long- his time with the museum would end eventually anyways, and he'd move onto some other exciting place and meet some new masterpiece at one of his other galleries.

So for now, it was probably for the better that they left things open to interpretation.

Once the ceremony was over, Emma waited with Killian's family to congratulate Liam on his achievement.

"It was a lovely ceremony," Emma said, trying to make small talk despite barely having paid attention to it anyways.

"Yeah," Fiona said, "they always do such a nice job with it here."

"Indeed," Killian began, "why, I remember my graduation like it was yesterday. They had…."

"Oh, look," Brennan said, interrupting Killian to wave across the room, "there's the man of the hour himself."

They turned to see that it was Liam he was waving to, quite a few yards away. Brennan and Fiona headed towards him, walking past a disappointed Killian.

Emma took Killian's hand, a smile momentarily crossing his face as she did.

"I'd still like to hear the rest of what you had to say," Emma said.

Killian shook his head as they walked through the crowd back to the others, "it wasn't important."

"If it's important to you, it is to me," Emma said.

"I appreciate that, love," he planted a quick kiss on her forehead.

When they rejoined with his family, Killian let go of Emma's hand so he could give his step brother a hug. Then, he let go and held his shoulders at arm's length, smiling proudly.

"Congratulations, Liam," Killian said.

"And congrats on the exhibit at the museum," Liam said, "I saw the pictures online, you must be…."

"Now, now," Killian said, "there'll be plenty of time to talk about that later. Today we're celebrating you."

"Yeah, congratulations," Emma interjected.

Liam smiled at her. "I don't believe we've met."

"I'm Emma," she held out her hand to him, "Killian…."

"I do believe my brother's mentioned you," Liam shook her hand, "wasn't exaggerating in the slightest when he spoke of your beauty."

Emma smiled a little, "I see you've been taking lessons in charm from your brother."

"It's a family trait," Brennan interrupted, "and Liam has picked up on it as well. We Jones men always were a charming lot."

"You all certainly are," Emma smiled as Killian's hand found its way to hers once again.

Fiona pulled out her cellphone and took a picture of Liam.

"Do you want me to get a picture of you guys all together?" Emma asked.

"That would be lovely," Brennan said.

"Oh, yes," Fiona said, "It's so lovely having the whole family together again."

The Jones family all stood next to each other for the picture, with Liam in the front, his parents behind him, and Killian standing next to them, slightly off to the side, almost as though he didn't fully believe he belonged in the picture.

Still, as Emma handed back the camera, she felt something, not quite jealousy, but something like it. Liam had grown up in the foster system, just like Emma had- but he had so much she'd never dreamed of. Emma'd never had a high school graduation, or a family photo she actually felt worth keeping- she was pretty sure she'd never truly even had a family.

"Some people are just born lucky," Emma thought, "and I've never been one of them."

But she hid her feelings like she always did, faking her best smiles, not about to play the pity-the-orphan card and spoil Killian's family's weekend.

#captain swan #once upon a time #killian jones #emma swan #ouat #cs ff #cs fanfiction #cs au #once upon a time season 6 #brennan jones #liam jones ii #fiona ouat #kazzy writes open to interpretation

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lunacrescentmoon · 2 years ago

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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

#Alright #i know i shouldnt do 2 in a day but #i did #deal with it lmao #I just started this for fun and ideas coming to my head #and dont worry Cyanide is going to be okay-#Horror checks in on him every once in a while #so does.. everyone else- XD #OSD AU #Not my AU #CS!OSD #Hope you like it @calcium-cat

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cssns · 4 years ago

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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!

#cssns 2021 #GTKM #gtkm21 #justanother-unluckysoul #gtkm interviews

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lifeinahole27 · 4 years ago

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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.

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

#captain swan #cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan ff #sarah writes ff #csrt

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let-it-raines · 5 years ago

Text

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.

“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!”

“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.

#tell me it's real (it's real)#cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan #captain swan ff

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years ago

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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

#laura rambles #blue line rambles #honestly i am sure there are more #and im just not remembering #but suffice it to say there are a lot #and i am always always always willing to write little bits or give info #these characters and this verse lives rent free in my brain #is what im saying

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shady-swan-jones · 7 years ago

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Your lists are so wonderful. Thank you for making them! I was hoping for a list of fics where Emma and Killian go on a road trip. So many great tropes can happen! Some I've enjoyed already are Another New York City Serenade, Any Means Necessary, and Hitched.

Road trip AUs

and I want to run as far as I can with you by @swanandapirate [2/2]

Roadtrip by jamespadfoot [3/3]

My Heart Unfolding My Home by @ohmyohpioneer (one shot)

True North by @emmasinthebooknow (one shot)

Love's Bounty by @captainswanluver [4/4]

Spinning Wheels and Feet That Run (but They Come Back Home) by @sambethe

Traveling the Open Roads of Us by @imhookedonaswan

and this one has a road trip in it

The Path of Lost Souls by @curiousthingdarkness

the ones you mentioned are of course excellent

#cs road trip au #cs ff #captain swan #cs road trip #my lists #working links #fraddit #answered

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hollyethecurious · 5 years ago

Text

CSJJ Day 18: A FINE Friendmas

A Fine Friendsmas: CS AU for the @csjanuaryjoy

Summary: In a tradition their group of friends established back in college, Killian and Emma spend a long weekend in January to celebrate a belated Christmas - or Friendsmas - with their dearest friends. The promise of a calm, peaceful weekend is momentarily marred when the group awakens to strewn trash cans that were raided by raccoons overnight, and the prospect of serenity all but evaporates when the men make a shocking discovery while cleaning up the meddlesome creatures’ mess.

A/N: This idea has been in my wips folder for over a year, and I have to thank the mods of the @csjanuaryjoy for giving me the chance to get it out of there. Also, for giving me today as my posting date, because it just so happens to be @winterbaby89’s birthday! Laura, I remember spit balling this idea with you way back when, and I am dedicating it to you in honor of your 31st trip around the sun. Thank you for being such an amazing friend! Love you lots!!! Finally, much love to @artistic-writer for being my sounding board, and to @kmomof4 for her fab beta skills!

Rated F for Fine Friendsmas Fluff / ~2800 words / Available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee

~/~

It had been a tradition since college.

Their group of friends, having to go their separate ways to spend actual Christmas with their families, would go away during the first long weekend in January to celebrate the holiday together. At first, it had been just Killian, his roommate, David, Dave’s younger sister, Emma, their fellow dorm orphan, Graham, and Emma’s best friend, Elsa. Over the years, their group had expanded as new friends and significant others were added to the mix. Now they were a well rounded number of ten.

Five couples in various stages of their relationships.

David and Mary Margaret (Emma’s roommate junior year) had been together the longest, and the first of their group to tie the knot. They were followed swiftly by Killian’s brother, Liam, and Elsa, who met during their senior year Friendsmas while Liam was state side, spending the holiday with his little… younger brother.

Will and Belle had first joined them that same year, Will being a friend of Graham’s and Belle one of Killian’s. After many years of being just friends, they finally started dating about eighteen months ago. Mary Margaret had brought Ruby along to the yearly get together after they’d all graduated. She and Graham were now newly engaged, as were Killian and Emma.

A wonderment Killian still had trouble wrapping his mind around. A life spent at his Swan’s side was one he’d long hoped for, but often questioned whether it would ever be realized.

Theirs had been a long and pining road, fraught with big brother over protectiveness, missed opportunities, and separations due to Killian’s naval service. Despite everything life had dished out to try and keep them apart, their feelings for one another and the special bond they shared as former lost souls had finally allowed them to find home in one another. Killian had popped the question on Emma’s birthday a few months prior, and her response came before he’d even finished getting the question out.

The amount of love and promising futures Killian saw when he looked around the living room of the cabin they’d all rented for their Friendsmas weekend filled his heart, while also leaving him with a sense of melancholy. The couples had all trickled in throughout the day, catching one another up on their lives over dinner. Some, like Liam and Elsa, and David and Mary Margaret, Killian saw quite regularly. The others, though… Life had already started pulling them away more and more with careers and relocations. How many more years would they continue to meet like this? How long before distance and new stages of life, with families of their own and obligations of true adulthood, made it impractical to spend this weekend all together?

Killian shook the somber thoughts from his mind, tightened his arm around Emma’s shoulder, and focused on enjoying the time he’d get to spend in their company for now. To be sure, things would change as the years progressed, but so long as he had his Emma at his side Killian knew the uncertainties of the future were nothing to fear. He’d leave those concerns for another time.

Especially when the next morning brought more pressing concerns.

“I swear, I made sure the lids were on tight!” Will declared for the dozenth time in response to the muttered curses each of the men were sending his way as they collected the debris littering the yard. “Bloody raccoons.”

They’d awoken to a mess, and a green to the gills Elsa who had discovered the up ended trash cans, the stench sending her fleeing to the nearest toilet. Liam informed them that she’d been getting over a touch of the stomach flu, and they all promised to have the mess sorted as soon as possible while their respective loves took care of the ailing woman. Well… all but Mary Margaret, who was still abed and seemingly dead to the world, which was odd. She was usually the only other member of their group that rose with the sun as Killian did.

Perhaps she’d caught Elsa’s flu?

Or… as Graham was about to discover, perhaps it was something else entirely.

“Um… mates?” Graham’s tone caught everyone’s attention and they all paused in their work to look over at where the man stood, gripping something Killian couldn’t quite make out. “Was there any leftover trash from the previous renters, or is this all ours?”

“The cans were empty when we got here yesterday,” David informed him. “Why?”

Graham stumbled forward a few paces, bringing him closer to the rest of the group, and held up the object clutched in his hand. A mixture of panic and astonishment filled the air as each man took in the sight.

“If that’s the case,” Graham continued. “Then one of us is about to be a father.”

Killian stared at the white length of plastic with the word PREGNANT practically screaming at him from the indicator screen. One of the lasses was pregnant? A swell of something swirled in Killian’s chest, but he squelched it before it could fully materialize, choosing instead to break the tension with a bit of brotherly teasing.

“Are you sure it’s just a stomach bug, brother?” Killian cheeked to Liam. “Perhaps Elsa has a bit more going on in her belly than the flu.”

Liam’s complexion turned as white as a fresh sail. “I… she… we’re…”

Will came to Liam’s stuttering rescue, and chimed in, “It may not be Elsa. Mary Margaret told Belle the two of you had decided to start trying, isn’t that true mate?”

All eyes turned to David, joining Will’s in their inquiry.

Like Liam, David seemed to need a moment before he could respond. “I mean… we aren’t not trying, but it hasn’t been that long. She can’t be pregnant already.”

“The Sleeping Beauty act she’s pulling this morning could suggest otherwise.” It seemed Graham had noted Mary Margaret’s unusual lie in as well.

“Let’s be real here, gents,” Will said. “It could be any one of us.”

That was true. All of them were in a steady, committed relationship with the woman they loved, and as much as some of them might be more prepared for fatherhood than others, it wouldn’t exactly be terrible news to discover the new year would be bringing them a new life.

“Should we say something? Ask them whose it is?”

“Might be best to wait,” Killian suggested. “Let whoever it is reveal it in their own time. In their own way. I wouldn’t want to put any of them on the spot like that.” Emma would hate that, he thought to himself. “Besides, for all we know the answer will be revealed this evening during our gift exchange.” He turned his attention to David and smirked. “It would be just like Mary Margaret to announce it publicly. You know she can’t keep a secret for long.”

“Aye. I agree with Killian.” Liam had finally found his voice. “If it is Elsa, I’d rather her tell me when she’s ready.”

The men all nodded, silently agreeing that it was most likely Elsa or Mary Margaret to whom the test belonged, and that the mystery could very well be resolved that night. Respecting the wishes of the prospective fathers, the men went back to work and tried to put the matter out of their minds.

A feat easier said than done when new revelations were innocently uttered over breakfast.

“Ugh. I think my dryer is on the fritz,” Ruby lamented, appearing in the dining room still in her pajama bottoms before plopping into a seat. “None of my jeans fit. They must have shrunk in the wash.”

“I don’t think that’s actually a thing that happens. Especially with jeans that aren’t new.” Emma slipped onto Killian’s lap after she spoke and crammed the rest of her poptart into her mouth, earning her a disgruntled look. Killian would never understand her addiction to those vile things.

“Are you suggesting I’m getting fat?” Ruby leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, daring Emma to respond.

“I think she’s suggesting that we all gain a bit over the holidays,” Belle added diplomatically while spooning herself a second helping of scrambled eggs. “I know I’ve been guilty of over indulging lately.”

From across the table Will’s eyes were glued to Belle’s fork, watching as bite after bite made its way into her mouth until she was reaching for more bacon and asking if there was more toast. Standing abruptly, the scrape of Will’s chair had all eyes landing on him. He caught those of the assembled men and choked out a command.

“Yard. Now.”

The ladies watched with furrowed brows and perplexed expressions as Graham, Liam, and David all filed out behind a practically sprinting Will.

“What the hell?” Emma looked to Killian for some sort of explanation, but all she got in response was his nervous tick of scratching behind his ear before prompting her to stand so he could follow in the other men’s wake.

“Did you see that?” Will asked in near panic. “Did you see how much Belle ate? See never eats that much, I tell ya. I tease her all the time about eating like a bird only for her to correct me about how much birds actually eat.” Will was pacing frantically, his hysteria forcing the pitch of his voice to heights Killian had never heard before.

“What about Ruby?” Graham interjected with an equally frenzied tone. “Didn’t you hear? None of her jeans fit. Ruby has been in the same size jeans since college. She prides herself on it. Now all of a sudden they don’t fit?”

“Mates, relax,” Killian said calmly. “It doesn’t have to mean what you think it means. I doubt it would even strike you as odd if not for what we discovered earlier.”

“Easy for you to say,” Will countered. “Emma isn’t the one throwing up, or sleeping late, or complaining her clothes don’t fit, or eating everything in sight. She’s got no bleedin’ symptoms at all.”

He was right, of course. Killian had scrutinized Emma all morning, questioning whether her breasts seemed a bit fuller, or her curves a bit rounder. Each observation had sent a flurry of emotions through him while determining if the glow in her skin was normal, if her appetite seemed on par, or whether her yawning might have been more excessive than usual. He wasn’t sure if he’d been left with more relief or remorse over the conclusion that nothing appeared out of sorts with his Swan, so he couldn’t really blame Will or Graham for their current trepidations. A babe was no small matter, and as much as a family was something he envisioned for their future, was he really ready for that future to start now?

“I think Killian has a point,” David spoke up. “We’re all on edge and reading into things. We just have to stay calm and wait for confirmation.” He clapped a hand on Will’s back and ushered them all back inside with mutterings of act natural under his breath.

“What is going on with you guys?” Emma cornered Killian moments later. “You’re all acting strange.”

“I don’t know what you mean, love. We’re all fine.”

“Fine meaning, freaked out, insecure, neurotic, and emotional? Yeah, I got that. Hence my question.”

Killian couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips from Emma’s use of one of his favorite movie quotes. “You’re right, Swan,” he confessed on a sigh. “The lads are a bit worked up over something, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you over what just yet. To do so would…”

“Go against the bro code?” Emma supplied after Killian’s explanation trailed off.

“Something like that,” he huffed amusedly, pulling her close and securing her in his arms. “I promise to confide in you as soon as I have leave, though. Do you trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you,” she replied softly. “I just want you to know that you can trust me.”

“I do, love.” He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “Implicitly.”

They stood there together for long moments, soaking up the comfort each provided the other, and Killian found himself quite eager for that future he’d been vacillating over just minutes before. As unlikely as it was that the test had been hers, Killian couldn’t help but let a bit of hope soar in his heart over the prospect.

Emma sighed and pulled away. Reaching up she caressed Killian’s cheek and he instinctively nuzzled into her touch. “I’m going to go check on Elsa,” she told him. “You might want to consider spiking the eggnog. Might help with all the fine going on with your mates.”

Killian chuckled at the butchered way she impersonated his accent and watched her retreat towards the bedrooms.

Perhaps some liquid fortification wasn’t such a bad idea.

The afternoon progressed with movies, games, and a few more emergency summits where the men found themselves going off in groups to the restroom, back to the yard, and out to the garage with each new observation for one of them to be totally fine over.

“She won’t let me hug her tight. Do you think that means something? Don’t their chests get tender when they’re pregnant?”

“Why would she think we had pickles? When have we ever brought pickles to Friendsmas?”

“She slept in all morning and now wants to go have a nap?!”

“Well, she stopped throwing up, but flat refused to help with dinner prep. Said she couldn’t handle the kitchen smells. Bloody hell. It’s Elsa, isn’t it?”

“I promise to not corrupt my niece or nephew too much, brother.”

“Bugger off, Killian.”

By the time dinner was done and the time came for them all to congregate in the living room to open gifts, the men’s level of fine was reaching critical mass. Fortunately, they did not have to wait too long for the mystery that had plagued them all day to finally be solved. For just as Killian had predicted, Mary Margaret was incapable of keeping it a secret any longer.

“I’m pregnant!” the woman announced joyfully. The squeals of the other women jumping up to offer congratulatory hugs to her and a beaming David (who was still holding the Daddy Charming t-shirt Mary Margaret had gifted him as her way of revealing the news) overshadowed the collective sigh of relief being expelled in unison by the other men.

“I found out a couple of weeks ago and had the shirt made, but I’ve been in such disbelief about it I think I’ve taken another dozen or so tests since that initial one. Including one yesterday when we got here, just to be sure.”

Toasts were made, more gifts were exchanged, and in the warm glow of merriment Killian did his best to tamp down the disappointment consuming him at now knowing for sure the test had not been Emma’s. Though, her whispered tease that she had a private gift waiting for him in their room did help in improving his mood. He had no problem simply practicing for now.

“Why do I get the sense that Mary Margaret’s announcement wasn’t quite as big of a shock to you guys as it was to us gals?” Emma asked later as they readied themselves for bed, a neatly wrapped present sitting conspicuously on the nightstand next to her side of the bed.

Slipping beneath the covers, Killian recounted the tale of that morning’s discovery of the positive pregnancy test and the subsequent events of the day.

“No wonder the guys were all losing their minds all day,” Emma laughed.

“Aye. Fortunately, we all know how difficult it is for Mary Margaret to keep a secret. We felt fairly certain that if it were her or Ruby, we’d know by the end of the weekend. A public announcement isn’t really your, Elsa, or Belle’s style, so we agreed to wait it out.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” Emma agreed, something bordering on mischievousness peeking around her expression. “Totally not my style.” She reached for the package on the nightstand and handed it to Killian with a soft yet timid smile. “This is.”

Killian looked at her with furrowed brows, and his heart began to race from the expression gracing her features. With trembling hands he opened the package. Inside, he did not find the naughty bit of lingerie he’d been expecting, but something else entirely.

A tiny, baby onesie.

“It’s also not my style to take a test in a cabin full of people who might find it.” Killian tore his eyes from the unbelievably small garment and up to Emma’s bright green eyes, sparkling with tears. “I did that a few days before we left to come here.”

She waited several seconds, gauging his reaction. When he still hadn’t said anything, she prompted, “Killian, tell me what you’re thinking. How do you feel about this? And please don’t say fine.”

Killian dropped the onesie back into the gift box and took Emma’s face into his hands. “Oh, love,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to hers. “I am feeling so much more than fine.” He captured her lips, pouring out all the joy he felt in that moment into the kiss. A kiss that was anything but… fine.

Tagging the Curious Crew:

@kmomof4 @sals86 @jennjenn615 @darkcolinodonorgasm @artistic-writer @courtorderedcake @winterbaby89 @snowbellewells @heavenlyjoycastle @sunshine2632 @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @kday426 @cocohook38 @unworried-corsair @aprilqueen84 @tiganasummertree @therooksshiningknight @angellifedeath @ilovemesomekillianjones @ultraluckycatnd @wyntereyez @ultimiflos @superchocovian @qualitycoffeethings @facesiousbutton82 @theonceoverthinker @sherlockianwhovian @lillpon @killianjonesownsmyheart1 @shardminds @skystar87 @teamhook @itsfabianadocarmo @xarandomdreamx

#cs ff #csff #cs fic #CS au #csjj2020 #cs January Joy #Captain swan #killian jones #Emma swan #modern au #fluff #with a touch of panic #art by Hollye #words by Hollye

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teamhook · 5 years ago

Text

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

#Captain Swan #teamhook SavageHeart #CS Crew #cs ff #CS Mafia

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 4 years ago

Text

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)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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.

NEXT CHAPTER-->

#cs ff #cs friday fluff #fluffy fridays #my fanfiction #cs au ff #cs hurt/comfort #cs snowed in fic

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seriouslyhooked · 5 years ago

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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

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan nye #cs #cs fic #cs ff #cs fluff #cs nye #cs new year #emma swan #killian jones #the whole storybrooke gang #cs mixtape #captain swan mixtape #cs au #captain swan au #cs insta love #you look good

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meanderingcaptainswanmusings · 6 years ago

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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

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artistic-writer · 6 years ago

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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.

#sparking the pavement #stp #cs ff #cs au #motogp au #cs fanfic #motorbike racing

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