#me when the cs fixation is in the motion again

[nocturnalhe]

PLEASE GOD MAKE MY LAPTOP CHARGER WORK I NEED TO COOK

[artistic-writer]

King of My Heart :: CS :: Rated E

Title: King of my Heart by @artistic-writer​  Fanart by @artistic-writer​ Rating: E Summary: Emma Swan is the biggest star in the entire world, a world-class singer with a voice that had made sure she was seated at the very top.  She is the Queen of music that speaks to so many, but there is one thing in her life she is missing, and with whole albums dedicated to him, will Killian Jones finally hear her words and take up the throne beside her as the King of her heart?

Read on AO3 A/N: So, most of you will know that one of the biggest loves of my life after my husband is Taylor Swift.  Ask @shardminds​ about my incoherent babbling and fangirling when i discovered that the Reputation Tour was on Netflix. THEN ask her about this song and how I was reduced to a dribbling mess when the drummers were shirtless. You can work out the rest.  Thanks to her and @hollyethecurious​ who were willing to look it over and thanks to @csconcertseries​ for giving me the opportunity to create this little one shot <3

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Emma Swan hadn’t always been this famous, but she had dreamed of being on the big stage for as long as she could remember. There had been a time when she was a nobody, just some pretty blonde girl who happened to be good at dancing and had been so good, in fact, that she had gone to dance school. Because that is a thing. Never in a million years would she have realised that she would be standing where she was right now, with the people she was with, her life taken by a whirlwind force that had yet to spit her out of the other side.

The lights were blinding, the last show in her mega sell out stadium tour that had seen her travel all over the world, playing sell out shows to massive crowds all the way. It still baffled her sometimes, why she was so popular. All she did was sing about her life, about the ups and downs she experienced, but it seemed that her life coincided with so many others around the globe, that she had rocketed to super stardom overnight. She was more than the voice of Emma Swan; she was the voice of everyone.

Of course, without the hundreds and thousands of people who could make her life possible, she would be a nobody. She needed every single one of them. The road crew, the stage builders, the guys and girls who tuned all of her instruments, the security, the dancers, and of course, the fans. She might still be that struggling dancer, scrambling for the chance to stand behind someone has big as she was now, if it were not for that one moment that she still thinks about every second of every day.

If it were not for him.

There was a guy, of course. A guy who she had taken the time to get to know, another dancer reaching for the stars, who had become more than just competition. When he danced he was flawless, fluid and emotive, a better dancer than she could ever have been, but it had taken her a while to realise his true potential, and by the time she had, it was too late. Another dancer had taken his heart, another of their classmates who bore a striking resemblance to herself, and that was when she picked up her pen and her reason for being where she was right now was created.

Emma had always thought that albums were more than just words on a page. She never wrote a song that she didn’t mean or identify with on a personal level. How was she expected to sell albums with lies? So many other artists did that already, singing about what they thought people wanted to feel instead of what they had experienced themselves, and that’s what set Emma apart. She was raw and real and she had but one man to thank for that.

Killian Jones was single again now, she’d heard that much through the gossip and chattering of her crew. It had ignited the spark in her heart, relit the flame of longing that she feared had been extinguished so long ago. She felt like she was singing her lyrics with a renewed vigour, a new purpose for the glitz and glamour of her shows. She had written these songs about him, but now, when she sang them, barely audible over the sound of the crowd going wild, all she wanted was for him to hear her. To know.

She had tried to tell him once, twice, oh so many times, but for a professional singer, she couldn’t form a sentence for shit. He did that to her. The man who had heard her sing, told her how beautiful her voice was and had encouraged her to pursue singing rather than dancing, rendered her absolutely speechless. She could sing to him all day long, but unless he heard her, really heard her, they were just words, and Emma longed for so much more.

The final song of her show was a big one, not just because it would be the final time she sang on stage with this particular group of people and danced this particular choreographed set of moves with them, but because it would be the last time she could try and make him see. This was the song, the one that she had penned with such enthusiastic yearning, the one that, despite most of this album being about him, she really wanted him to hear her when she sang it. It helped that towards the end she had insisted on showcasing his talent as not only a dancer but also as a drummer.

Nothing got her quite so hot as the way Killian Jones simultaneously danced and played the huge drum he had pushed onto stage half way through the song. There were eight in total, but she had made sure that his was closest to her. She wanted to feel every beat vibrate right through her as he pounded the massive drum skin. The five minute outro to the song - his song - was nothing short of spectacular, the energy the sound exuded as it echoed around the acoustically perfect stadium something that left her so aroused, she was suddenly heady on adrenaline and the sound of the drums that echoed in time with her heart.

It didn’t help that, for reasons, she had decided that at this particular point in the show, the drummers would be barely clothed from the waist up, shirtless except for thin scraps of cloth that were tied around their wrists and matched the tassels on the muted sticks used to beat the drum surface. It was part of the flair, and for a second Emma was thankful she didn’t have any more words to sing because, between twirls and struts, she was too busy watching a bead of sweat run down through Killian’s chest hair to remember any.

The sound of the crowd became nothing but a high pitched buzz, like the sound you hear when silence overtakes you, her eyes fixated on him as he danced. Muscles bulged and flexed, sweat flicking from the ends of his pitch black hair as he swung his head from side to side, as lost in the rhythm of drumming as she often was in his eyes. His ocean blues that so often swept her out to her death and so crept up in all of her songs. It was a wonder he hadn’t realised that her career had been based on her admiration for him, the man who had seen so much potential in her in the first place.

He was as lost as she was, flawlessly playing his part, as the king and keeper of her heart. Whether he knew it or not, Killian Jones would always hold her heart right next to his, so close that she could swear that she could see two heartbeats thumping right under the skin of his chest when he spun around, twirled his sticks through the air, effortlessly catching them and raising them above his head to a crowd who went wild at the display. The song ended then, a single, reverberating drum beat accompanying silence, after which the crowd went wild.

Emma watched in the darkness, the tantalizing sheen of sweat over his body glinting off of phone flashes as the stadium lit up. She was panting hard, the whole set twice as long as any other in the show, and her skin prickled with heat from exertion and want. And then she felt arms wrap around her, another of the dancers, and then one of her backing vocalists, celebratory embraces that were welcomed by not what she wanted. Not from who she wanted.

It wasn’t until it was all said and done, and the cast had filtered from the stage and lights, that she saw him, just as perfect off stage as he was on. Her world turned to slow motion, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed some refreshing ice cold water hypnotic, her eyes drawn to a droplet that spilled from his mouth as he struggled for breath between each gulp. Then he turned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and looked right at her, the blue of his eyes that she so often waxed about almost gone behind his blown pupils, dilated and so erotically dark as they bore into her.

“You were bloody brilliant, love!” He yelled, the sound from the crowd still so overpowering, even in the wings. “Brilliant as always!”

In three bare footed steps he was on her, hoisting her into his arms and wrapping her up against his bare chest with a crushing grip that she didn’t mind at all. He spun them around and Emma wasn’t sure she wanted him to ever stop, the flashing of strobe lights behind her closed eyelids adding to the euphoria of his scent as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck and inhaled him. Again, he had rendered her speechless, and Emma couldn’t do anything but hold on, her fingers twisted in the soaking wet hair at the base of his skull as he whirled her around a few more times before setting her back down onto her high-heeled feet.

They were the same height like this, him barefoot and her with black leather boots laced up to her knees, and where she expected him to take a step back and create the distance between them that had created a rift before, he didn’t, standing fast and resting his hands on her hips. She gulped when his fingertips teased the edge of the leotard she was wearing, her heaving breasts drawing his eye when she gasped and some of the red sequins rustled against each other and the sound of the crowd disappeared around them.

They hadn’t been like this, this close and drowned in tension, since she had become world famous. There had been no time for them and she regretted it every day. He was more than her friend, he was the man she dreamed about, the man who had seen potential where she only saw words on a page of a dog-eared notepad that accompanied her guitar when she was feeling down. Killian Jones was the man she wanted to share it all with, the man she would come home to after months overseas, the man who would miss her like she missed him when they were apart.

Her hand was on his chest before she had time to stop it, stroking through the silky hairs there that were still damp from his routine, right above his heart that still beat in time with the drums that has since stopped. His hand found her face in response, his knuckles brushing over her cheek, hand shaking a little and making her mouth go dry. They had danced like this before, on stage but never in private, and a sudden warmth overtook her as Killian let his fingertip drag down the side of her neck, keeping eye contact the whole time, as if to torture her more when he skimmed over the swell of a breast.

“Stop.” The word left her mouth before she could stop it, the pounding of blood in her temples berating her as her blood screamed out for him. For a second he looked hurt, swallowing hard and taking a step back so that there was a palpable space between their bodies that left hers cold and alone, something she never thought she would feel around him. “Not here,” Emma whispered assuringly, her ruby coated lips ticking up into a sly sideways smile that had him arching a brow at her.

Killian stepped forward again, pressing his body into hers and making sure she could feel his erection through the thin, silky trousers of his outfit. Emma flushed hot and her brain short circuited, eyes blurring and caught between wondering how they would escape the stage and if they would get caught if they didn’t. He was too much, hands acting innocent as they stroked over the curve of her shoulder, friendly and casual to observers, but a painfully restrained attempt to touch her anywhere he could.

“Where?” He almost begged, his voice laced with darkness and sexual intent that had her biting her bottom lip in response, something that caused him to paradoxically whimper uncontrollably. “Gods, I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

Once again, he had rendered her speechless, taking the words from the back of her throat like he always had with his barely there touches and thick, British accent that somehow had grown impossibly sexier with his arousal. Emma’s resolve snapped, hair prickling on the back of her neck with anticipation as she grabbed his hand in hers and tugged, hard, pulling him along the back of the stage and behind a huge piece of equipment that she neither noticed or cared to know about at that exact second. All that mattered was that it was tall enough to hide them, the space between it at the wall making sure that they were pressed together as close as can be for when, finally, his lips were on hers and every single lyric she had ever sung about him raced through her mind.

Killian wasted no time, knowing that what they would have would probably be brief, pinning her against the wall in the darkness and rolling his hips into hers, making her feel all of him, gobbling up her moans with his ardent and impassioned kisses. He trapped her in his grasp with his weight, and Emma needed to feel more, her hands caressing the expanse of his naked back, her nails raking over the skin there in an attempt to draw out more of his hunger, her efforts more than rewarded when he growled low in his throat and slipped a hand between her thighs.

“That last song is about you,” Emma breathed.

“I know,” Killian growled in between harsh, heartfelt kisses, smirking as he trailed them along her jawline.

“Fuck, half of my songs are about you,” Emma whispered with laboured breath, Killian’s kisses now assaulting her neck through his growing smile.

“I know,” he said arrogantly, one hand bunching the thickness of her hip whilst the other explored the apex of her thighs, searching for a way into more than just her heart. “I’ve always known.”

Emma’s hands are on his face and dragging his lips back to hers in a heartbeat, the echo of the rhythm of the drum solo pounding in her ears again, charging a new tension between them, something more sexual than ever before. There had always been a space between them, a professional barrier that neither would cross. Emma had poured her heart out in words whilst Killian had worked through his frustrations through dance, but right now, in this moment, there were no such walls to stop them from scaling the other.

Killian’s tongue skimmed over the seam of her lips, gently begging for a deeper entry as his fingers hooked into the gusset of her blood red sequined leotard and pulled the fabric aside. He frowned, met with another barrier as his fingers prodded and teased her entrance through a thin layer of sheer, diamond studded, sparkly stockings, and Emma couldn’t help herself when she bit down on his bottom lip this time, making him rut against her thigh to relieve some of the pressure building in his cock.

“These are…” Killian’s words trailed off as another irritated growl rumbled from his chest, vibrating through her lips as she sucked on the bite mark left by her own frustrations.

“One of a kind, hand studded to my exact measure-,” Emma began incoherently, her world spinning behind her eyes, her breathless babbling cut short by the sound of tearing fabric that she hoped no one heard.

“Such a fucking shame,” Killian lied darkly and repositioned his hand so that he could finally slip a finger into her, the extent of his pent up tensions leaving him on a satisfied sigh he breathed against the swell of her breasts as he scrapped his teeth over the flesh there and she let him, holding his face to her bosom and clawing the back of his head with her long, blood red fake nails.

After all the times she had dreamed of moments like this, hoping that one day they would become reality, there wasn’t enough of him inside of her and she whined against the shell of his pointed ear. Killian knew her too well already and paired another finger with the first, pushing them both into the wet heat between her legs in time with the pounding the blood in his ears. He curled them each time, pushing deeper on each thrust that rips into the material of her tights some more, right up until his palm was pressed against her clit and Emma was subconsciously chasing her high as she fucked his fingers.

The line was gone, so fucking gone, and the leg he’s slowly grinding his erection against became hotter than the rest of her, burning up from the way his dry humping became slightly damper thanks to the appearance of pre come seeping through the black silk fabric of his trousers. Emma knew his body was lithe, trained to bend this way and that due to his profession, but if she had any idea just how talented Killian Jones was, she would have signed him to her tours from the start. She’d always wanted to, but the line had always been too wide of a chasm to cross, except now he was finger fucking her with a slight aggression that turned her on beyond anything she thought she could ever know, and suddenly a bridge had appeared and Killian beckoned her to the other side with skillful strokes and the whimpering of a man possessed.

Sweat beaded her brow and he smirked against her cheek, lips parted as he breathed against her mouth, unable to kiss her for fear of losing sight of her. He wanted to watch her come undone as she climaxed and coated his hand with even more of herself. He wanted to imagine her body under his, to imprint the way she looked as she came on his mind, lipstick smeared by indulgent kisses and brow furrowed in pleasurable pain, whilst stretching up on his tiptoes to dry fuck her thigh. He doesn’t have to wait long before Emma is inexplicably pushing against his shoulders as she comes, hard, going rigid and overstimulation setting in, her mind fighting between the urge to push him away and the need for him to never stop reaching the best parts of her.

“Fuck,” he ground out, only just stopping himself from coming at the sight of her. He rolled his forehead against hers but was reluctant to pull his hand out of her warmth, swallowing the deepness of his voice thickly as he settled his feet back on the ground and her core muscles pulled at his fingers in detest when he withdrew them.

“Poetic,” Emma teases, brushing her thumb over the corner of his mouth.

“I’m no writer, love,” Killian admitted with another kiss, this time to the tip of her nose. “Not like you.”

“What do you mean?” Emma beams and he gave her a quizzical look. He loved the way her nose scrunches when she is being playfully naive.

“And all at once, you are the one I’ve been waiting for,” Killian muttered softly, eloquently, as if he is reciting more than just her lyrics.

“King of my heart,” Emma finished with a smile that would just not fade.

“If you’ll have me,” Killian said hopefully.

“Body and soul,” Emma whispered, the words only just leaving her lips before his were pressed to hers in final and definite acceptance of their future.

[seriouslyhooked]

The Same Soul (Part 3)

Available on FF Here and AO3 Here. Chapter 1, Chapter 2.

Our world AU where Emma and Killian knew each other as teenagers. Killian was sent to spend a summer with family in America. He met foster kid Emma while there. They fell in love but then he was forced back home and she couldn’t take the memories so she ran away, trying her best to move on from the dreams they’d always hoped for. A chance meeting brings them back together years later, and this time nothing and no one will keep them apart. Rated M.

A/N: Hey everyone! So I am back again with another chapter of this new story, and I am happy to say that I like this rewritten version even better than the one I lost a few weeks back. Not only that, but I have also better developed the story idea and come up with a unique (but still typically me) CS tale of love and cuteness. It’s looking like it’ll be ten separate chapters and an epilogue at the moment, and they’ll all be bouncing around from Emma and Killian’s POVs in the past and the present. This particular chapter is one I am really excited for. It also takes place in the past (notice the italics), and it picks up where our last chapter left off but from Killian’s perspective. He and Emma are going to the fair for their date! Of course I had to lay down some basic facts of Killian’s life in the beginning section, and just a heads up for people, part of it is a little sad. Like Emma, Killian hasn’t had an easy life in this fic, but no worries – they’ll make each other happy and there will be lots of fluff ahead. Anyway, thanks so much for reading and I would love to hear what you all think!

(Past)

“Damn it, why did I say seven? I should have said earlier. What the bloody hell was I thinking?”

Killian muttered the words aloud as he stared at the gilded antique clock on the mantel of his Uncle Benjen’s study. If he were less fixated on his desire for time to speed up, Killian would probably marvel again at how that one item alone easily cost more than two months of his brother Liam’s salary. His Uncle Benjen spared no expense on the furnishings in this house, and Killian got the feeling it didn’t even make a dent in the massive fortune of his father’s younger brother. Besides, this house was one of the largest in the county, and this county was apparently one of the richest in America. It seemed only right that the decor should be as over the top and astronomically pricy as the real estate itself.

Unlike Killian’s father, who had been a degenerate and a drunk nearly all his adult life, Benjen Jones was a man of status and steady purpose. Killian had only recently met him in person. Prior to this summer, their relationship had strictly consisted of a card and a check at his birthday and Christmas, but Uncle Benjen seemed to be the opposite of Killian’s father, Brennan, in many ways. Luckily, Killian didn’t have many personal memories of the rat bastard who once terrorized them, but he remembered enough. Where Brennan had never been interested in holding down a job for more than a chance to buy more cheap booze and neglect the needs of his family, Benjen was a work horse. In twenty years, he went from a nobody in London to a household name in America. He’d represented clients in dozens of high-profile cases and had used that star power to leverage himself into ownership of more than a dozen high-end firms around the country.

Now Benjen was a certifiable legal powerhouse here in the States, and he could clearly afford to retire several times over. It became clear to Killian the moment he walked through the doors that Benjen must be the source of the money they’d had these last few years. With his mother out of work, Killian always wondered how they could get by on just Liam’s military salary, but that query was put to rest upon arrival. His Uncle had millions, but having that money hadn’t impacted his drive. One thing that was very apparent about his uncle to Killian was the man’s tendency towards competitiveness. Benjen hated to lose, and he hated to be idle. He talked of little except for work, and Killian assumed he thought of little else as well. There was always some other goal to chase and some other case to win. For that reason, he’d never settled down or had children of his own, and so when Killian had showed up here a few weeks before, it was immediately apparent that Benjen was at a loss of what to do or how to act.

Not that anyone was particularly good at addressing a wayward seventeen-year-old kid whose mother had recently passed away and whose brother had been shipped off to another war zone as part of his job. There were probably how-to books on this kind of stuff, like Teenage Trauma for Dummies or some shit, but Killian assumed they were all full of crap. There was no way to write out a reasoned plan for how to deal with loss of this kind, and Killian understood that because he’d come to learn over the past few months that grief was unknowable. It was different for everyone and handled in a million varying ways depending on the person. Killian’s own grief was still undefined, and each day his hurt felt just as new and fresh as the day he lost his mother. For that reason, Killian was glad that Uncle Benjen never tried to coddle him or confront the elephant in the room. It was the last thing he wanted, and clearly his Uncle, for whatever shortcomings he may have on a guardianship front, could understand that at least in part.

“You know the clock never hastens for those who watch it, my dear.”

The unexpected words made Killian jump, his sudden motion jostling the chair in which he sat. He hadn’t realized anyone else was in this wing of the house, and he imagined he was quite alone. When he looked up though, he realized it was only Mrs. Potts, the older woman who took care of things around here for his Uncle. She was a kind soul, and though she had decades of life on him, he noticed the woman never lacked for energy. She could put him to shame with the way she ran about this house organizing, cooking, and keeping things afloat. It took a small army to keep up with a place like this, but Mrs. Potts never broke a sweat, and though Killian had tried to resist her nurturing ways, it was fruitless. The woman’s calling was taking care of people, and in a moment like this, that kind of care was welcome to Killian.

“I know it doesn’t, but still I can’t help trying,” he confessed and Mrs. Potts smiled warmly before patting his arm.

“It’s a terrible trait of time. When we want it to slow it quickens, and when we want it to fly it drags. Dreadfully annoying. But you know what would kill some time? Telling me what has you so tied in knots.”

Oh damnit, there it was. Killian had foolishly hoped that maybe he could get through the day unnoticed, but how could he? Mrs. Potts was only commenting at all because he’d been so different the past twenty-four hours. He could only imagine the changes she witnessed. One day he was just going through the motions, not angry per se, but definitely withdrawn. The only being he let near him for prolonged periods of time was Missy, and though he took care to never be downright rude, he tried to make it clear that he wanted nothing extensive to do with any person he had met here. But after last night and all through today, he had been buzzing with energy and excitement. He’d been smiling, something that he hadn’t done in ages before yesterday, and that feeling of happiness was so strong it even outweighed the worry that he’d somehow fuck this up that currently turned his stomach. He couldn’t help but feel hope for the first time in a long time, and the reason for that was wrapped up in one beautiful, transcendent girl named Emma Swan.

Finding her in the forest yesterday had felt like a trick of the light. It was as if he’d been craving goodness for so long that his mind created a figment of miraculous imagination. It took more than a moment to believe his luck could change so drastically. After everything, he didn’t even feel worthy of standing in the presence of this girl. She was perfect, doting on his dog with kind, easy affection, and then standing and facing him, stealing his breath all at once. Her golden hair, her piercing jade eyes, and her curious and cautious expression had all done him in. But more than that it was the aura around her that called to him. The sun shone through the trees, flittering in with a warming light, but it was Emma that seemed to radiate brightest. It almost hurt to look at her, but he never wanted to stop. He could have stayed in that first moment forever.

“Silly me,” Mrs. Potts said with a chuckle, pulling Killian from his runaway thoughts. “Here I am asking a question I know half the answer to already. After all, the only thing that puts a look like that on a young man’s face is a beautiful girl.”

“How could you know that?” Killian asked, and the older woman smiled.

“My dear, I hate to tell you that it’s obvious, but you’re not exactly hiding anything. It’s clear as day you’ve found a little dose of happiness, and after the year you’ve had I think it’s well deserved.”

Mention of the trying nature of this past year should have hurt him, but Killian felt immune to the pain of remembrance for once. To say that Emma was unexpected didn’t do the situation justice. For almost a year Killian had felt lost and unmoored. The passing of his mother was more painful than words could ever articulate, and it didn’t matter that he’d had months to say goodbye to her. If anything it was worse to see her suffer and to incrementally lose more hope each and every day. By the end, her leaving him had been a given, and when she was finally gone Killian thought he would feel relief. Instead he felt paralyzed and completely unsure of what to do and where to go from there. Life had become about helping his Mum and getting her through the worst demon any of them had ever faced, and when it was just him and Liam left, Killian didn’t know how to act or who to be. How did you live in a world where one of the most important parts of your universe just disappeared? It left an aching sense of emptiness, something physically painful, and nothing and no one had helped to dull that pain until Emma.

“Her name is Emma,” Killian admitted, and for once Mrs. Potts clammed up, no doubt hoping he’d say more. “I met her yesterday. She goes to the camp in town and we got to talking. I asked her to the fair tonight.”

“Oh the fair! Well how marvelous, or as the kids would say, that’s like ‘totally far out!’” Mrs. Potts said, attempting a horrendous show at an American accent, and after a moment of trying to contain his reaction, Killian gave in, laughing at the words she’d chosen. She was no doubt impersonating some kind of American TV reference, but her delivery was shoddy at best . “Oh bother, you know I try to assimilate to these American ways, but it just won’t do. It’s the tea and biscuits I think. My devotion to them simply makes it impossible for me to embrace that American twang.”

With the mention of tea, Mrs. Potts then got it into her mind that tea was the exact remedy they needed in this moment, and the entertainment of watching his Uncle’s housekeeper keep up with the most British of traditions kept Killian smiling. It was nice to feel the sense of home before heading out on something new and foreign tonight. His Mum had always enjoyed any excuse for tea, and as he sipped on the piping hot English grey that Mrs. Potts provided, Killian swore he could feel his mother’s own steadying presence. It was almost like she was with him, even though Mrs. Potts was asking the questions, and though he couldn’t rationally explain it, Killian felt like, wherever she was, his mother was just as excited for Killian as Mrs. Potts.

Though time still dragged more than a bit, the moment did finally come for Killian to get ready and depart. He did so with shaky hands but nothing like real apprehension. He was nervous, of course, because he wanted things to be just so to ensure that Emma had a good time, but the chance to see Emma again and to take her out so that they might see where things could go was a blessing in all ways. In fact, he was so desirous of the chance to do just that, that Killian actually walked the distance from his home to hers in a fraction of the time that he thought he would. He was early, but that earliness allowed for him to pause, and to look down a wooded country lane not far from Emma’s home. It was an ordinary looking place, nothing out of the common way, except for one thing. There, in the abandoned hedgerow were flowers. Wild roses, to be precise, and with a careful and mindful hand, Killian plucked one from the winding leaves. It was glorious, fully open for the season, fragrant, and lush, and Killian was thrilled at his luck.

With his small but precious gift in hand for Emma, Killian closed the distance between him and Emma’s home, eager to be reunited with her again. But where he expected to come knocking on her door, he was shocked and elated to find instead that Emma was already waiting for him at the gate. She didn’t see him at first, and that was probably for the best, for he was too stunned to speak, or move, or think of anything beyond her. Taking her in was a rush, and seeing her tonight, with her hair hanging in loose golden curls and her jean shorts and t-shirt traded in for a pretty pink sundress, made Killian feel like his heart might actually give out. What he felt for her was so gigantic and boundless. He was in awe of her, and halfway in love with her all ready. And then she turned to look at him, smiling shyly as she did, and he was gone for her.

This was the moment, right here, where he gave someone his heart for the first time. It was emblazoned with her name, beating just for Emma, and though many may call him crazy, Killian didn’t give a damn. It didn’t matter that they were young, or that this was only supposed to be his home for the summer. There could be a million things set against them, and for Killian none of them would matter. He’d conquer whatever he could to feel this way forever, and he knew having Emma in his world would be critical to that. In just one day Emma Swan had walked into his life and rewritten his story, and Killian for one had never been so happy about anything in his whole entire life.

“You’re early,” Emma teased, a smirk playing at her lips as he started walking towards her again.  

“I could say the same about you, Swan.” Suddenly Emma looked uncomfortable, as if she wanted to explain why she was waiting for him outside but didn’t know how. This wasn’t the first time Emma had grown agitated about where she lived, and he wondered if she was embarrassed because this was the staff quarters of a larger estate, but while he wanted to ask what was the matter, Killian knew it would be best to wait for now. In the hopes of diffusing her apprehension, Killian produced the blossom he’d found for her, and drew her attention to the flower instead of whatever worried her. “For you, love.”

“Thank you. No one’s ever given me flowers before,” Emma whispered before bringing the rose up to smell its sweet scent. She appeared thrilled at his tiny gesture, and immediately Killian knew he’d bring her flowers every day. She deserved so much more than that, but this was a small thing he could accomplish that would hopefully bring her even a little bit of joy on a regular basis.

“I’m honored to be the first,” Killian replied, and though he’d meant the comment innocently, he watched as a blush crossed Emma’s cheeks. That show of shyness prompted Killian to wonder if there other first they could share together, and then his mind started to run away with him, moving in a far racier direction than either he or Emma was ready for. He had to curtail those thoughts, at least for now, and he did so by pivoting to the night ahead. “So, are you ready to head out? The fair waits for no man, at least that’s what they tell me.”

Emma laughed at the corny joke, and Killian was glad that they’d come so far from their first meeting even though they’d still spent precious little time together. He offered her his hand, and at first he was unsure if she’d accept it, but without any form of hesitation she slipped her hand in his. Having that connection seemed to flip the switch for time. Where before it had been moving ever so slowly, now it was flying by. It felt like one moment they were at Emma’s place and the next they were in the center of town and in the thick of the festivities. In that time they talked and laughed, and most people might think their discussion was on things of little importance, but Killian knew he’d remember every moment, especially the one where Emma first saw the fair in all its glory.

“Wow,” she uttered, her eyes flitting from sight to sight, tracking the lights and the people and the numerous games and rides.

“So? What do you think?”

“It’s even better than I always imagined,” Emma admitted with a grin and Killian felt his heart leap at the praise. “Where do we go first?”

“Ah, now that is a conundrum each fair-goer must face. On the one hand there’s food and all of it is fried. It’s delicious, obviously -,”

“But probably not great to eat before getting on some of those,” Emma said, motioning towards the rides that spun and shot into the air or twisted round and round.

“Precisely, but we can pace ourselves however you like. All I want to do is whatever makes you happy.”

Emma squeezed his hand a little tighter at his honest confession, and she continued to look around before deciding that a ride may be in order. He went and bought the tickets, and they tackled three of the most daring amusements at the fair. Initially, Killian worried that Emma might be scared, but she proved him so wrong. It turned out she loved the thrill and adrenaline, and her enjoyment made him desirous of the adventure as well. After that, they ate their fill of fair food, and then settled on a few games, nearly all of which Emma won. She was a natural at every single feat, and after seeing the light in her eyes that appeared when she found she was truly good at something, Killian wanted nothing more than for her to take the whole place. Some guys might have been turned off by a girl kicking their ass so decidedly, but not Killian. He was just as happy as Emma, for her excitement was infectious, as was her childlike joy every time she got her prize.

“I feel like I should have brought a bag or something,” Emma joked as they walked around with her many winnings, and then Killian produced a tote bag that he’d bought while she was busy at the water gun station. She appeared shocked, but it softened quickly into appreciation. “You’re really on top of this, aren’t you?”

“Have to be to keep up with you, love,” Killian replied and Emma laughed before heading to another tent to dominate yet again. This time though she was strategic, going for a bigger win so she could have a specific prize. The only problem was, she wouldn’t tell Killian what her objective was until it had already been won.

“For you,” Emma said, holding out her biggest catch of the day. It was a stuffed bear, but for some unbeknownst reason it was dressed in pirate garb. It had a hat and a sword, and even a little hook for a hand, and it was impossible not to look at the thing and smile, especially when Emma had thought to give it to him.  

“Thank you, Emma, I’ll cherish it.”

A beat of silence passed between them, but there was no awkwardness. Instead, he and Emma looked at each other, sharing an understanding that this night was one that mattered. They both had enjoyed themselves tremendously, and though neither of them said the words aloud, Killian knew that this was just the start. Things between him and Emma were just right, and there was no denying that. It was like they’d been meant to find each other, and to come together in this summer where he’d needed someone more than ever. Emma seemed to understand that, and though he didn’t know the details, Killian gathered that she was searching for some kind of goodness just as much as he had been.

“I think there’s one more thing that needs doing,” Emma finally said, pulling her gaze from him and looking up to the tallest ride at the fair – the Ferris Wheel. They’d thought of going before, but the line was so long, but as the night went on more people went home. Little kids were all fast asleep by now, and there was only a little while left for the festivities this evening. As such, it was now or never to take one last ride together.

“As you wish,” Killian said, before taking her hand again leading them to the giant wheel. They got on it quickly, and soon enough they had a revolving view of everything.

“This is amazing,” Emma remarked as the ride slowly took its course, moving in a great big circle from high to low and back again.

“Is it the best part of the night?” he asked and Emma shook her head.

“I wouldn’t say that. It’s all been so wonderful. I couldn’t begin to choose a favorite part.”

Her words filled Killian with pride, and he couldn’t contain his smile when she spoke so highly of this date. Knowing that he’d created a happy memory for him and for Emma was an awesome feeling, but it didn’t compare to the ones that came next. In a moment, Emma’s eyes darkened even as they twinkled with the light of the wheel around them. She moved in closer, her hands coming up to his chest, and running down slightly, leaving sparks of spectacular sensation in their wake. Killian wondered if she could feel his heart pounding out an accelerated beat, but her face gave nothing away except that she wanted him. For his part, Killian had never wanted anything as much as Emma, but he waited, impossible as it was. He’d promised her tonight would be on her terms, and though it was torture for the few seconds that she paused in this moment, the sweet relief of her lips on his when she pulled him down for their first kiss was euphoric.

The kiss started soft and slow and more than a little unsure. Emma’s move had been bold, but her embrace was less so, at least for the first few moments. He wondered if this was her first kiss, but then the thought flew away as she arched into him more. They were testing the waters, seeing if a kiss could live up to the promise between them, and it did. Honestly, it delivered so much more, and the feeling in Killian’s heart that was sparked by the kiss only solidified to him that Emma and he belonged together.

“I lied,” Emma whispered when they broke apart for a moment. Killian tried to recall what they’d even been talking about, since he was so moved from that life-altering kiss, but then she clarified. “This was my favorite part. Hands down.”

“Agreed, love, but I think we can do better. Don’t you?”

He didn’t wait for her answer, stealing another kiss from her and chasing that same feeling of bliss all over again. Soon the two of them got lost in each other. There was a need that had long ago sparked between them, one they’d been dancing around all night. The chemistry they shared raged to an all-consuming degree, and Killian never wanted to stop. Her taste incited something primal in him. He never wanted to be without it, or without the feel of her pressed up against him. His fingers ran through her silky hair, then his hands came to hold her close, loving the way she felt beneath him and how open to this that she was. Emma was just as needy as he was, and ultimately the only thing that could break them apart was a loud yelling from the riding car below them.

“Hey buddy, are we gonna move at some point? This thing has been stuck for like ten minutes. I got places to be!” The man who asked was clearly annoyed, and it was immediately apparent his ride around the wheel wasn’t going anywhere near as perfectly as Killian and Emma’s.

“Oh my God,” Emma said, her eyes filled with laughter and residual lust from their shared kisses. “We’ve been stopped? I didn’t even notice.”

“It’s news to me too,” Killian admitted, but just as he was about to kiss her again, the ride came to life, and it appeared this was last call at the fair. They took one last loop around before they needed to get off, and by that time everything else was closing up. The festival of fun was winding down, and now there was nowhere to go but home.

It was tough to bid farewell to this night, the first of what Killian hoped would be many to come, but he refused to let himself dwell on bad emotions. He knew without a doubt that this was just the beginning, and so he chose to be grateful and fulfilled at all that he and Emma had shared. Tonight had been magical, and it was only made more so by the fireflies lighting up their whole journey home. These lightening bugs seemed to follow them, illuminating the way where the moon and stars could not, and each time one flashed its yellow light, Emma looked more and more entranced. This, it seemed, was another first for Emma, and even Killian had to admit that the way they lit up the shadowed streets was picturesque. Still, when the moment came to say goodbye to Emma, Killian couldn’t bring himself to say the words. It felt wrong to leave her, and Killian didn’t know how he’d ever manage it. As for saying goodbye, it felt too final, and the weight of that word weighed heavily on his shoulders.

“I had a great time tonight,” Emma said, the tone in her delicate voice telling him that she was being nothing but totally honest. “I don’t want to sound lame, but…”

Killian moved to cup her cheek when she cast her eyes away, seemingly embarrassed. He ran his thumb across her skin, feeling its gentle softness again, and noticing how it felt just as wonderful as the first time earlier tonight. God, the craziest part about all of this was that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but she didn’t seem to notice it. Emma was blind to all the things that made her remarkable. She didn’t seem to understand that she was gorgeous or brilliant or extraordinary. She thought herself plain, when there was no one more wonderful the world over.

“Emma, whatever you meant to say, I want to hear it. I want to know everything you’re thinking, and I promise that ‘lame’ is the very last thing I’d ever call a thought of yours.”

Emma melted into his embrace a little more, releasing a pent-up breath and relaxing into him. “It’s just… well if I’m really honest, tonight was one of the best nights of my life.”

It soothed him to hear her be so candid, and it invigorated him in a way he’d never been before. He felt like he could fly – hell, forget flying this was so much better! Having Emma care so much for him and open herself to what was growing between them was miraculous. He knew this was hard for her, and though again she’d shied away from speaking of anything too deep tonight, the little things she gave away had told Killian that normally Emma was cautious. Like him, she’d built up walls around herself, but her trust in the feelings between them had inspired her to try. She was taking a risk with him, and no matter what it took, Killian silently swore that he’d make that risk worth it for her, no matter what it took.

Instinctively, he pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her, and feeling the slender lines of her body mold against his. Having her close was of great comfort, but then she nestled in even closer and his heart lifted. She fit so perfectly with him, and when she was here, in his arms, it felt like a missing piece of who he was had returned. It might not be the part he lost when his mother passed, but it was another similarly important piece, one he’d never really had before. People might call him crazy, but he couldn’t help thinking, as he looked into Emma’s emerald eyes, that he was staring into the face of his future. He could see a whole life with Emma. Every milestone they were yet to face, he found he wanted to embark on with Emma at his side, and though he didn’t know how that could be yet, given that they lived a world apart most of the time, he knew he’d find a way.

“Mine too. I don’t want to rush you, love, but I feel it’s only right to tell you that I’m in this. I’m all in, Emma. It’s you and me, as long as you’ll have me.”

“So it’s not just a one-time thing?” Emma asked, her voice trembling ever so slightly with the last of her fear.

“No, love. It’s as far from a one-time thing as it can get. I want tomorrow and the next day. I want next week and next month. I want the whole summer and then thereafter. I want it all, and I know it’s ridiculously fast, but sometimes when you know, you know, and -,”

Whatever other words he had flew away the moment Emma pulled him down to kiss. They came together, just as hungry for each other as they were before, if not more, but now there was so much promise fused in with the embrace. In this kiss, Emma was telling him that she was on board with all his thinking. Even if he was crazy, it seemed she was just the same, and whatever this was, they were in it together.

They stayed that way, tied together with heat and lust and the beginnings of what he had to see as love. This was too strong an emotion to be anything else, and when they broke apart, both trying to catch their breath, he could tell from Emma’s expression that she felt it too. He wouldn’t speak the words tonight, not when they’d already been moving so quickly, but Killian knew it was just a matter of time before he said them. And as Emma took her leave, heading back through the wrought iron gate, after promising to see him tomorrow, he felt a growing sense of certainty that she was the one. Now all he had to do was show her that, and make a plan to keep them together, no matter what may come.

Post-Note: So there we have it! I can’t wait to see what you guys thought of the chapter and Killian and Emma’s first date. Hopefully you enjoyed it, and if you did then I have good news for you: the next chapter is another date also from Killian’s view, but this time it’s in the present where we started the story. I think a lot more will be answered then, but there’s still a long way to go in unraveling the past and building their future. Anyway, thanks so much to all of you for reading and for your continued support. Hope you have a great rest of your weekend!

[lenfaz]

How to Ruin the Holidays, ch. 4 (4/4)

CS AU: Kids, this is the story of how Killian Jones ruined Christmas, Emma Swan ruined New Year’s Eve and how they fell in love in between.

Dedicated to the wonderful @blessed-but-distressed, a small little thing from me to her, so she could remember how cherished and treasured she is this holiday season.

This is unbeated, so please excuse all mistakes and terrible grammar that might come your way.

Ao3  FF.net  OnTumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Chapter 4

Killian barely slept that night. He tossed and turned in bed, reliving Emma’s kiss every time he closed his eyes. By the time dawn broke, he got up and fetched himself a cup of tea and tried to bring some order to his frazzled mind.

He needed to tell Emma the truth.

She would hate him, that much Killian knew. From what he’d seen of Emma, and the little he pieced together from Anna’s excessive talking, she was someone that wouldn’t trust easily to begin with. To have betrayed the little trust she might have put on him, it was something Killian didn’t expect to be forgiven for. He needed to tell her the truth, not for him - he knew he stood no chance with her - but so she wouldn’t go around beating herself and thinking she’d betrayed her sister.

He knew he couldn’t do that to her.

He was entertaining those thoughts when his phone rang. The message delivered on the other side made his blood ran cold.

Elsa was awake.

/-/

He made his way towards Elsa’s room, his heart beating frantically in his chest, the words already forming in his head on how his apology should look like.

But it all vanished in one heartbeat as Anna and Ingrid pulled him into a hug and redirected him over Elsa’s bed. From the corner of his eye, he could see Emma’s shoulders stiffen when she noticed him, but he couldn’t say anything before Ingrid spoke.

“And here’s Killian!”

Elsa gave him a small, polite, smile before she tilted her head in confusion. “Who?”

“Your fiancé,” Ingrid said with a beaming smile.

Elsa’s eyes widened comically and Killian felt his heart skip a beat. “My what?”

Here it is, he thought as he prepared for the downfall. But as he was about to open his mouth, his hand raised in a universal I can explain motion, Anna’s gasp interrupted him.

“Oh no! She has amnesia.” Her hand covered her mouth in horror and Killian was so astonished that he couldn’t react before the entire family started spinning the same tale. He moved away from the bed as he gave space to Ingrid and Anna to talk to Elsa.

He noticed Emma moving towards the exit and he walks towards her.

“Emma…” he trailed off, forcing his hand not to reach for her.

She barely looked at him, her green eyes filled with shame. “Not right now, Killian. I need to get the doctor,” she whispered before she quickly exited the room.

/-/

It took over an hour for the doctor’s to check up on Elsa’s vitals and have a few more tests done, all of them confirming that there wasn’t any logical explanation for her amnesia, but that sometimes patients waking up from a coma could be a little disoriented.

Ingrid had insisted that they leave Killian and Elsa together, giving them time to talk to one another and perhaps Killian’s words could trigger her memories.

He tried to refuse but he couldn’t find the will to say anything when Ingrid looked at him with such hope in her face. When they all had left the room, leaving him and Elsa alone, Killian sighed and ran his hand through his hair before he turned around and gave Elsa a soft smile.

“May I?” He pointed at the chair near her bed and she nodded.

“I have to say, I do feel like I know you, but I just can pinpoint from where.” She tilted her head, studying him.

“You see me each morning when you take the train,” he offered politely and his heart gave a little jump of joy when her face lit with recognition.

“You work on the token booth!”

“Aye, I do.”

He wasn’t sure what else to say, and it seemed Elsa didn’t either, so the silence stretched between them. It was Elsa who finally broke it.

“Look, please don’t take this wrong,” she started hesitantly, fidgeting with the blanket of her bed. “But I am not - I cannot be in love with you.”

For months he’d hoped a different answer from her, fully aware that this probably would have been the one he’d gotten. For months he’d thought it would break his heart and made him feel even less worthy of anything in life.

And yet…

“I - I know.” The corner of his lips curved in a sad smile. “Terrible job, one hand, I’m really not a catch-”

Her hand was soft and slightly cold - yet comforting - as she rested it on top of his. “No, that came wrong.” There was a sincere streak in her voice and her eyes were looking at him with anything but kindness. “That was not what I meant and I apologize if that was it seemed I was implying. The truth is, I could have not given you my heart you when-”

She hesitated, looking for the appropriate words, but Killian didn’t need words as he could read in her eyes exactly what she meant.

“When you’ve already given it to someone else?” he ventured.

She tilted her head amazed. “How do you know?”

“Well, it’s clear now.” He shrugged, his eyes boring sincerely into hers. “The cold look in your eyes whenever you came to the station, how distant you’ve been of your family. They mentioned that you pull away from them a few months ago and Emma was sure you’ve had your heart broken. She-she misses you, you know?” He couldn’t prevent the last bit to escape his lips.

Elsa’s eyes widened in surprise. “Emma doesn’t really talk that much to - well - anyone.”

He shook his head in disbelief. Emma had been right all along.

And he’d been an utter fool.

/-/

Their conversation had moved to other topics after that, with Killian retelling Elsa the events of the week she’d missed and trying to encourage her to confide in her family again. She was laughing at his tale of Christmas shenanigans when Ingrid, Emma and Anna came back.

“I see that you’ve been getting reacquainted with each other,” Ingrid said, almost beaming at the two of them but Killian only had eyes for Emma. She looked at him longingly for a brief minute, before she averted her eyes and plastered a smile on her face. One that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

And in that moment, he knew.

Killian cleared his throat and looked at Ingrid. “I’m in love with your daughter.”

He felt Elsa stiffen on her bed and Emma’s smile faltering before she schooled her features.

“Yes, we know you’re in love with Elsa.” Ingrid sounded confused and Killian took a deep breath.

“Your other daughter,” he confessed.

Ingrid widened her eyes. “Anna?” she blurted out.

“Emma.” He said her name as a whisper, a plea, as if the world began and ended with her. Because at some point during that week, he’d fallen in love with her. Emma’s eyes were fixated on him and he could see both hope and a reticence of getting her sister hurt. He sighed, knowing he could fix the second thing, but it would cost him the first. It would cost him Emma. And there was nothing he could do about it.

He averted his eyes, ashamed of himself, and focused them on Elsa. ““I lied. I never - I’ve always watched you on the platform, so confident and fierce. But I never dared to talk to you. After all, I’m just a one-handed clerk with no family and no future. You - you seemed to have so much. I didn’t know how to talk to you. When they brought us you here after your accident, they wouldn’t let me see you and somehow, someone misinterpreted my words and thought we were engaged.” His eyes shifted for a brief second to Ingrid and he could see the realization in her face. “I wanted to set the record straight, I did. But then Ingrid showed up and-” he sighed, running his hand through his hair as he stood up. “You have a lovely gift in your family, lass. And all of you have a wonderful gift in the fact that you’ve found each other.” He turned to Ingrid and he could see the tears in her face. “Loneliness is a funny thing. I creeps up in you. It makes you go mad with ache for things that seem normal to others. When all of you showed me kindness and welcomed me, I just couldn’t walk away from what I’ve been yearning from years - a family. I was weak.”

He shrugged on his coat and started to walk away. “There is no excuse for what I’ve done, as I’ve managed to broke your confidence and hurt your feelings.” His eyes darted from Elsa to Ingrid. “I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I had to say my apologies anyway.”

Finally, he made it to Emma’s side. Her eyes were filled with tears and disappointment and it broke his heart. “I’m sorry, Emma.” He tried to reach for her, but she took a step away and averted her eyes. “You- you deserved so much better than me,” he finished before he walked away, tears coming to his own eyes.

/-/

It was only a week later that Killian found himself at his booth, another book tucked beneath his left arm as he collected token after token. It was a day like any other day, but it was also different.

“I can’t believe is your last day,” Tink said as she reached to give him half a hug from behind on her way to her break. “Belle is so excited to have someone helping her out on the bookstore. I’m so glad it worked out so quickly.”

“Me too,” Killian smiled. “Thank you, Tink, for - for everything.”

“Happy to help!” she beamed at him before she left the booth.

He went back to his book, and was lost in the story he was reading when her voice reached him.

“We came to live with Ingrid when I was fifteen - almost sixteen - and August was a few days away of turning seventeen.”

Killian lifted his head to find Emma looking shyly at him, her fingers toying with a token. She was a vision in her grey beanie and red leather jacket. Her eyes met his briefly before they focused again on the token. “It took me a while to believe her, to believe that she meant well, that she was not going to send us away. We all have our scars, you know. I ran, August used to invent these concocted stories about us being fairytale characters trapped in this world, Anna tried so hard to bond with everyone, Elsa used to keep to herself. I was so scared to be cast aside again that I did a few really stupid things.” She took a deep breath before her eyes found his. Killian simply looked at her mesmerized. “I got an older boyfriend, got into some troubles, ended up pregnant at seventeen. So, when time came and Elsa went to college, I went to labor. She went to law school, I tried to finish my GDE while raising Henry and working two shifts at a local dinner. Elsa graduated with honors and got snatched away to work at the DA’s office. I barely took a few community college classes and started working bailbonds. She got a lovely apartment with a view and state of the art furniture. I got a half-destroyed house that I slowly rebuilt with August and Ingrid’s help. Elsa gets asked to collaborate overseas on major cases. I leave Henry with Ingrid when I have a stake out late at night. And not once, not even once, I’ve envied her. I’ve never, ever, coveted anything from her, any of things she’d gotten and I didn’t.” There was a softness in her voice as she slid the token into his space, her finger brushing his, sending a jolt of electricity all over him. “That is, until I met you.”

He was out of the booth and gathering in her arms in record time. Killian held on tighter as she embraced him, repeating the same words as a mantra. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“You should have told me.”

“I didn’t know how.” He pulled away enough so he could meet her eyes. “Emma, can you forgive me?” He pleaded.

Her lips curved into a smirk. “You’ve already met my crazy family and you actually like them. That’s a huge mark in the pro column”

Killian chuckled, allowing himself to reach and caress her cheek. “Aye, I do, even if they might not think highly of me at the moment.”

“Are you kidding me? Ingrid threatened to disown me if I didn’t come after you.” Her fingers reached to caress the nape of his neck. “You should know by now that she’d never leave a stray behind. You’re one of us now.” She bit her lower lip and cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Emma, I-”

“Shut up and kiss me, Killian.”

(He did. And it was the first of the many kisses he planned to give her.)

[seriouslyhooked]

Just a Taste (A CS AU) Part 2/10

AU where Emma and Killian are contestants on the Great American Baking Show and all twelve contestants hail from Storybrooke Maine. In this AU Emma is a book editor by day, while Killian is an architect who just moved to town a few months prior. Expect baked goods, flirtatious interactions, a little drama and a whole lot of fluff with a guaranteed HEA for Captain Swan. Rated M.

Part One Here

A/N:  It’s bread week this chapter of Just A Taste! Expect some tension between what Emma and the others want on and off camera (now that the show is a hit), of course some much needed CS fluff, and baked goods. Hope it makes your Monday a little better, and thanks for reading!

Chaos, that was the best descriptor Emma had for the happenings under the big white baking tent right now. The remaining eleven contestants were all trying their best to make heads or tales of their latest challenge as the cameras moved about, but the charge in the room was less based on the competition and more fixated on the response that the show had publicly.

To say it was an overnight hit was an understatement, and in a matter of hours they’d gone from a completely unknown town, to a sensation that millions of people were interested in and rooting for. Craziest of all, was that it had taken only one fifty minute episode for teams to be drawn, and Emma seemed to be winning in the popular contest. Well, her and Killian, who not only were praised for their pieces, but for their chemistry. Emma blushed for what felt like the hundredth time in the past twenty-four hours thinking about some of the things people had said.

It was such a bizarre way to start something, being filmed and now watched by millions, but she knew that the attraction simmering between she and Killian was real, and that even if it was terrifying, she wanted to take the risk. After exchanging numbers at the end of the last weekend, Emma and Killian had gotten coffee and even made it out for a real first date made up of dinner and then a nighttime stroll down by the beach to stargaze. It was beautiful and romantic, yet private. It wasn’t something Emma would ever want to share on this show so that the world could know. Those moments were just for her and Killian. Well and her friends, who Emma broke down each element beat for beat with over cocoa the next morning.

As Emma worked to decipher the recipe in front of her though, the going was tough. This week they were working on Gold’s Sinful Cinnamon Swirl and on top of no baking temperature, they were given eight ingredients on their recipe list when only seven were needed. Still Emma pushed through, following her instincts and risking the fall out later. She’d done very well in the first challenge of the day with her ‘sandwich bread’ selection of brown butter infused challah, and if this didn’t go her way, she should still be fine.

“Not exactly the most accessible recipe is it?” Ruby asked as she and Graham made their way with the crew over to Emma for her mid-challenge interview.

“Well look at this,” Emma motioned to the paper, “Half of it’s been redacted like its CIA level secrets. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure it tastes great when done correctly, but all the pomp and circumstance only adds to the frustration.”

“Amen!” Belle’s call from the other side of the room had Emma laughing before returning to Graham and Ruby.

“So I take it you’re not a fan of the ‘decorative gold shavings’ that the recipe calls for either.” Emma fought hard against an eye roll, not wanting to come off as totally rude and disrespectful on television but she bit her lip before responding.

“Let’s just say that I never use them in my baking. Maybe I’ve been missing something all these years, but I’ve never had any complaints about my lack of fourteen carat adornments on a loaf of bread.”

Both Ruby and Graham laughed and the crew smiled at Emma, signaling that they’d gotten what they needed before letting Emma get back to her work. She finished her bread in the allotted time, though she noticed that yet again, the larger group’s end results looked strikingly different. As they waited for the judges, Killian came up to stand beside her and whispered in her ear, confident that he wouldn’t be heard or caught by the cameras.

“Hardly my idea of an ideal third date.” Emma felt a surge of warmth course through her as she felt his breath against her ear and she smiled before looking at him and whispering in kind.

“Our third date is just an afternoon doing something we are now contractually obligated to participate in? You’re cheeping out a little early don’t you think?” He grinned at that.

“I propose a compromise. Consider this the prequel to the date, and at day’s end, you come with me to escape the madness.” Emma looked back around the frenzy in the tent and couldn’t deny how lovely his plan sounded.

“I could use a little escape.”

Killian appeared as close to forgetting himself as Emma was, and they were moments away from a kiss when they remembered where they were and pulled back. Not that Emma could fault herself for wanting one from him. She knew how he kissed now, and she was quickly becoming addicted to it. Still, they’d agreed on that night under the stars that they while the show was filming, they’d have a separation of their new relationship and the bake off. If going without a kiss for a few more hours meant less of the crazy public speculation, she was okay with that. Besides, the anticipation brewed it’s own special brand of excitement.

“Emma!” Mary Margaret called and waved her over to her and Belle, looking like she had something incredibly important to tell her, though with Mary Margaret it was always hard to tell for she was always so excitable. Emma looked to Killian who seemed to understand and gave her a small smile.

“Go on love. I really should go bother David anyways.” Emma smiled and moved to her friends, standing between Belle and Mary Margaret who quickly regaled her with some of the challenge drama she had missed.

“Guys, is that an empty plate?” Emma asked, only just noticing it.

“Someone put paprika on Archie’s table instead of cinnamon.” Instantly Emma knew that the only person horrible enough to do something like that was Catherine, but she wondered aloud why the woman would target someone as kind as Archie.

“Last week he went up to her and told her if she ever wanted to talk, his office was always open. He thought that her outbursts might have something to do with a past trauma.”

Emma shook her head at Belle’s words. So the man had the audacity to be kind and Catherine’s response was sabotage. True, paprika and cinnamon were different colors, and a more experienced baker than Archie would have known that, but the man wasn’t slated to win this. He had a few weeks left at best before this, so why waste the effort?

“Is this a distorted fame thing?” Emma whispered. “Like does she think being the show’s villain will get her something in the long run?” Mary Margaret shrugged as Catherine’s shrill voice pierced through the tent and made it’s way to them.

“I hope they send the Sister home, if only so I don’t have to see those tacky pink numbers anymore.” Emma held Mary Margaret’s hand to keep her friend both calm and assured that what Catherine was saying wasn’t true, but where Emma planned to step forward, it was David who said something.

“Catherine, stop.” The blonde looked inclined to keep going, so David continued. “This has gone on too long, and I’m done. So unless you want a nationally broadcasted breakup, I suggest you keep quiet.”

Emma looked from David to Killian, who seemed shocked but proud of his friend, and in that moment she knew that it was likely Killian who had talked some sense into David.

“Apologize to Mary Margaret.” David said as he looked at her pixie-haired friend who was blushing under the intent gaze of the man she’d so long liked from afar.

“I don’t think that- oh fine. I’m sorry.” It was less than sincere but Mary Margaret nodded and turned back to Emma and Belle.

“I know it’s probably not the right time to say so, but I think he’s sweet on you.” Both Mary Margaret and Emma held back laughter at Belle’s singsong way of saying that last part, but Emma noticed Mary Margaret’s eyes glance back to David who offered her a small smile.

“Do you think they’re really over?” Mary Margaret asked, the hope in her voice so obvious. Again Emma took her hand and nodded.

“David is a good guy, a better guy than Catherine deserves by a long shot, so yeah I think now he sees it, and now it’s over.” Belle took Mary Margaret’s other hand in friendly solitude, but the moment was broken when they heard Liam’s voice.

“Did you get that? Perfect.” Emma whipped her eyes to where he stood, entreating a camera crew to film them and now the eye roll she’d been holding at bay came through, causing Liam to laugh. “Even better, make sure we keep that.”

“If only we could have the cooking show without the show part.” Emma grumbled and her friends agreed readily, pulling the tension from her own body. Oh well, this was what she’d signed up for, and much as she feigned complaint, it was still exciting and definitely felt like an experience worth having. She looked to Killian almost involuntarily and saw him, arms crossed, staring daggers at his brother for the display and more warmth sprang through her. He was being protective over her whether he knew it or not, and the thought that he cared enough made Emma happy.

“Sorry for the hold up, everyone. We had a bit of a delay, but we’re set to go now.”

With Tink’s warning, the judges filed in. Granny looked near wringing the neck of Gold if her death stares were anything to go off of, while Regina looked angry as well even if it was better contained. When the cameras came, one never would have guessed she was upset. They made their way through the breads, and near everyone had some big problem with theirs aside from Tiana and Belle, who both did rather well. When they reached Emma’s though, Regina looked thoughtful.

“The structure of this one is good, let’s see inside. Yes, not too much air, just the right amount of rise and a beautiful swirl of cinnamon.”

“Not nearly enough gold though.” Gold claimed and Belle choked on a laugh, her hand gripping Emma’s arm causing Emma to want to laugh too, but she pursed her lips together, trying to contain her smile.

“The taste is fantastic, but I think there’s a little something extra in here that wasn’t actually in the recipe.” Regina said the words aloud and looked to Gold as if his reaction was something she was particularly interested in.

“Hell it tastes better than the one we just ate in the other tent!” Granny proclaimed, too late retorting “no offense,” to Gold who was near red with anger at this point.

“Doesn’t matter, it didn’t follow the recipe.”

Had any of them followed that redacted mess, really though? Emma thought.

The judges moved on, and though she’d gotten such excellent praise, Emma’s came right in the middle of the pile, much to the annoyance of Granny who kept looking at Emma with apology in her eyes. Emma waved it off discretely, not really caring, for certainly she wasn’t going home this week, but still. Gold clearly had a huge problem with other people succeeding, and the faster they got through this, the sooner she’d be away from the man.

“Emma, a few words?” Liam asked after the rankings had been announced and everyone was waiting to go home. Emma nodded, glad she could get the interview of the day done early.

“Sure.” They set her up outside in the place where they frequented for the shots and Liam dove straight in.

“You’ve been doing really well so far in the competition, Emma, any reason you think that is?” Emma smiled.

“I’ve been practicing at home during the week, but honestly, I’m just having fun. Thinking too much can really mess up a bake quickly.”

“How did you feel about your ranking just now?” Emma shrugged, again, not wanting to create waves here.

“I’m still learning the rules, and while I didn’t think adding an extra ingredient was a problem before, I can see that it might be if the aim of the exercise was to exactly recreate Gold’s recipe.” There, that sounded diplomatic enough.

“Do you think yours was better?” Emma laughed at that.

“I didn’t have his, but it wouldn’t really matter if it was. He has a baking empire and years of experience on me. I’m not silly enough to think that an amateur baker would know more about this than a professional.”

“You’re close with many of the people here, having known them quite a while, but you’ve also shown the most kindness to the town’s newest citizen.” Emma nodded, waiting for a question, but she didn’t get one.

“I think that one of the best parts of Storybrooke is that even though it’s small and might be insignificant from a global perspective, it has heart. This is a place where neighbors care and we look out for each other. Killian is a good person, and the town sees that.”

“But do you see that?” Liam prodded.

“Do I see that Killian is a good guy? Of course I do. I wouldn’t speak so highly of someone I didn’t actually care for.” Liam grinned.

“So are the fans correct in thinking that there could be something more between the two of you?”

“Look, Liam. I’m not talking about this. If you want to talk about baking or my feelings on a challenge that’s one thing. For now, I’ll just say that it’s exciting that people are connecting with our town and our experience here, but that all of us are still people, living our lives and wanting a bit of privacy.” With that, Emma removed her mic that they’d attached for her interview and left the area, frustrated that Killian’s brother of all people was causing the issue.

“I’ll bloody kill him.” Killian said as soon as he saw Emma. “Truly, Emma I’m sorry. As soon as he pulled you aside I knew he was going to push about us, but please understand my brother means well. He’s just heard me speak of you and…” Emma looked up at a clearly distressed Killian smiling.

“How long?” His eyes were wide with confusion when Emma asked the question and she longed to kiss that particular look away and replace it with the lust and wonder that seemed to come every time she kissed him in the past.

“I’m sorry love?” The lilt in Killian’s voice was more pronounced from the emotion of the moment.

“How long have you been talking about me?” He went red and ran a hand through his hair.

“Since my first week in town, honestly.” Emma was surprised at the confession but delighted nonetheless.

“Anyone ever tell you that you move pretty slowly for a guy so full of charm and ego?” He laughed at that.

“Don’t let appearances fool you love. I sometimes find myself doubting, and with you, I had to wonder if I was good enough.”

“Are you still wondering?” Emma asked, with the teasing fading from her voice and a longing for the truth remaining.

“I now know that you are entirely too good for me, but I’m too selfish to walk away.”

Emma could see that underneath the statement there was a genuine worry, and that something she didn’t understand was influencing Killian’s thought process. Emma would wager that in his past somewhere there was a reason, but she didn’t want to push. She could wait for him to see that she could be trusted; it was really only their second week of knowing each other after all.

“There it is again. All that charm is liable to get you in trouble, Jones.” He moved closer to her, after a brief glance to check that no one was paying them any mind.

“I like a little trouble now and then, love.”

“You seem like the type who would.” Emma looked at his mouth, wanting to steal that kiss she’d been thinking of all day, but she held back, knowing that even if they didn’t see anyone around, it was still too great a risk. She bit her lower lip so as to hold back and his eyes tracked the motion.

“Fuck my interview. My brother deserves to sweat a little for the stunt he pulled anyways. Let’s get out of here, Swan.” Emma laughed at his enthusiasm and followed him out into the rest of the evening, not sure of what was to come, but excited nonetheless.

……………………………

The next morning’s showstopper round was saddled with an unexpected element – torrential downpours. While the contestants worked through the morning to make their filled breads for the challenge that had been given to them, the droplets splashed down on the tent, causing a loud background noise. It was driving the filming crew mental, which was leaving each of the contestants a little more on edge than they might have been otherwise.

If this was a normal Sunday and rain was falling down, Emma would no doubt still be baking, the soft pitter patter of the rain would be calming, not reason for stress. To ease her own anxiety, Emma pretended that she was at home and let herself fall into the natural rhythm of baking her bread. This was a hobby she’d chosen because of it’s peacefulness and eventual reward, so she let herself sink into familiar routines as a means of avoiding the spectacle around her.

“I’m sorry, Killian, could you say that again? They didn’t get it that take,” Tink said apologetically.

Emma looked over as Killian patiently awaited his mark to explain his creation for the third time. While it must no doubt have been annoying to him, he showed no signs of exasperation.

“It’s a feta and pesto twist loaf, and the secret is in the filling. If you leave too much air, the bread bubbles and bakes irregularly. It needs to be tight, but not left to rise too long.”

“So clearly it’s a walk in the park.” Ruby said, thankfully changing her response so Killian could have a genuine reaction instead of reiterating the joke the writer’s had made.

“I’ve gotten it right once, and tried three times, so hopefully, my record improves with today’s outing.”

“Have you had anyone try it?”

Emma ducked her head to conceal her blush, but no one seemed to be looking her way anyways. Truth was she had been the taste tester and she had been delighted with the bread when she had it last night. Even the next day the bread was decadent, and when heated slightly it had been fantastic. With the bread, and some other home made food that he’d prepared in the hopes that Emma would say yes to a date, Killian and Emma enjoyed an impromptu picnic in one of the smaller parks away from the town center. None of the new tourists who were looking to see the town from television made their way that far from the hum drum of Main Street, and Emma and Killian had a beautiful time and got to see a gorgeous sunset. It was very romantic, and another of those precious private moments she’d come to cherish.

“I have, love, and the reviews were all of the raving variety.”

“Someone would have to be raving mad to try anything you make, Jones.” David’s pun-filled call from across the room had everyone in the tent enjoying a laugh and signaled the end of Killian’s interview.

As time went on, and the bakers got their breads in the oven, the smells that swirled through the tent were strong and mostly pleasant. The contestants were divided pretty evenly between sweet and savory, and now all the aromas blended together into such a heady mess it had Emma on the verge of sneezing, but she held back. The clock was ticking down, and with every moment, she was closer to submitting her final bake of the weekend. She’d taken this week’s inspiration from Oliver Twist, and though it was kind of underwhelming, she was still proud that she’d even managed a book themed bread when it wasn’t exactly a medium that leant itself to design.

Shaped in an ‘O’ for the obvious reason, Emma’s ‘I want s’more’ bread was a graham cracker white base, filled with chocolate and a marshmallow fluff. Each piece could be torn off, almost like a monkey bread, which Mary Margaret had made, but instead of glazing it entirely, Emma carefully drizzled some melted chocolate in a purposeful design. It was a lot to do in the little time she had for the challenge, but as the bell rang and the bake ended, Emma finished, pleased with the end result.

Unlike the day before, the judges managed to make their appearance in a timely fashion, and the energy that came with that was notably easier, at least until they tried the first bread. It was Ella’s, and though Emma hadn’t paid much attention to it before, she noted that the judges seemed to dislike even the smell of the loaf she’d created.

“Remind me again what the flavor mix was,” Regina prompted kindly.

“It’s a buffalo chicken and blue cheese loaf,” Ella said, now shy and unsure of herself.

“I wouldn’t eat it if I were you two, for one reason alone. This blue cheese has gone bad, and anyone with a nose can smell that. Honestly the fact that no one has fainted from how ghastly this is all day is a miracle.”

Gold’s words were cruel and Ella stood there in shock, holding her abdomen where a baby that was nearly five months along resided. She’d come on the show knowing she was pregnant, but wanting to be a part of the process because her sons were so excited about the town getting a TV show. At that moment Granny stepped in to save the day.

“Ella, I think we might actually take this as good news, honey. There’s an old wives tale that says some mothers lose all sense of smell when pregnant with a girl.” Gone were the tears from Gold’s cutting reply, and now there was a hopeful smile.

“You think so Granny?”

“Only time, and a doctor’s visit will tell dear. Until then, avoid baking with cheese.”

Ella laughed and the judges moved on, one by one down the line breaking down each bake with care until they reached Robin’s. Emma knew the man as a single Dad with a big heart and a smile for anyone. He was easy going, charming, but not over the top, and genuinely kind. That he was also handsome didn’t hurt matters, and Emma watched as Regina noticed. Never had the woman allowed herself to seem off balance, yet when Robin spoke about his marbled ham and cheese loaf, she was clearly thinking of other things, probably of the not so appropriate variety.

“For the love of God Regina, stop staring at the man and eat your bread.”

There it is. Gold’s comments have finally pushed someone too far, Emma thought to herself. There was fire brimming in Regina’s eyes, a look of embarrassment coupled with anger across her features that in a second were morphed into a wicked smile.

“Can you blame me? I get to look at your grimacing mug all day, I could use a nice break.” Then she winked – Regina Mills, picture of class and decorum and baking royalty winked at Robin in front of all the cameras, and he blushed. Emma was shocked, unable to keep her mouth closed as it hung, slack and disbelieving. Was this happening?  

“Perhaps we’ll get some reprieve from romantic speculation. A judge and a contestant together should be so much more intriguing.” Killian whispered to Emma who smiled at him until she heard Tink muttering beside them.

“Not likely, with Liam intent on matching you two up come hell or high water.”

Emma covered her mouth to muffle a laugh. Even though she thought Liam’s methods were lacking, she did like that he was watching out for his brother and seemed to think Emma a good fit for Killian. Despite the feigned arguments and the frustrated moments, Emma knew that Killian had nothing but love for his older brother. Her not passing muster with Liam would be like Killian falling short with Mary Margaret, Ruby and Belle. It might not end things, per se, but it would certainly inflict some damage on a new relationship.

When the ranking was done Emma managed to stay another week, as did her friends, and it was unfortunately Archie who was heading home after sabotage and a lack luster final bake. Meanwhile, Mary Margaret was pronounced the star baker of the weekend, though apparently much to the chagrin of one Mr. Gold.

“I hate to reward something that goes by the name of ‘monkey bread,’ but the flavors were there, and she was consistent all weekend, unlike many of the others.” Gold was giving his post-judging testimonial on one side of the tent, as Regina did hers on the others.

“Miss Blanchard showed a lot of finesse in the first two challenges, and today she brought us on a journey. She told a story about what the bake meant to her and that excitement and feeling is what made her bread so good. As professionals we often forget that, it becomes a job or routine, but without an element of love or hope, a bake cannot be fully actualized. There will always be something missing without passion.”

Emma thought it was interesting that the same thing could be said about people. Sometimes people went through life unfeeling or guarded for whatever reason, as Emma knew, for she had long been such a person herself. But where habit and routine made way for a feeling of contentment, one couldn’t be really happy without hope or belief in something more. Without being on this show Emma may never have realized that, and she thought, not for the first time, how glad she was that she’d been given the chance to do this.

“I’d like nothing more than to steal you away again tonight, love, but I overheard Mary Margaret and Belle mention something about a movie night,” Killian said when the larger group had dispersed.

Emma nodded and informed him that one Sunday a month for the past few years, the friends (including Ruby) made homemade pizza, watched a romantic comedy, and pretended that Monday wasn’t mere hours away. This was the first time she’d ever been somewhat upset that she was going though. Emma would have liked a little time alone with Killian. As if he could read her mind he bent low and whispered in her ear.

“The lovely thing about this town, Emma, is I’m mere minutes away, so if by chance you find yourself missing me tonight… know that I’ll find you, should want me.” She looked at his blue eyes and fell into the intensity there.

“I’ll want you.”

Killian grinned at her admission and moved a lock of hair behind her ear. It sent a spark through Emma, and for a moment she’d forgotten their promise. Someone might have seen that, but in the end, Emma didn’t truly care. All that mattered was that tonight she and Killian would get another one of those private moments, and the promise of it wrapped around her, warm and wonderfully right.

Post-Note: So there you have it. Week two has come and gone, another Storybrooke character bit the baking dust, so to speak, and we had more fluffy CS moments. Hope you guys liked the fluffiness, and as always, I love hearing your feedback and engaging on what you guys would like to see in the story. Hope you all have a great week and are surviving after last night’s episode. Until next week!