#cs modern au ff

[snowbellewells]

CS Fic Rec Monday: "(not so) young, drunk and alone" by: @donteattheappleshook

Oh my goodness! I just loved this fic - it alternately tugged at all my heartstrings and continually made me smile (and yes, sometimes chuckle at poor drunk, self-deprecating Killian's expense!) @donteattheappleshook does such an amazing job at bringing these modern AU versions of Killian and Emma to life, and yet somehow still making them seem so real and true to the characters we love, even in a different setting and situation. **Plus, bonus points for a live Graham that Emm is clearly still good friends with!! <3

Don't miss this nice long one shot - it's this perfect thing to relax with and warm your heart on some cold evening this week!! You should absolutely check it out.

Read it here: "(not so) young, drunk and alone" by: @donteattheappleshook

#cs fic rec monday #csfrm #cs modern au ff #cs one shot #silver fox killian #(not so) young drunk and alone #such a talented shipmate #major cs fic rec

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

Dum Spiro, Spero - CS One Shot

AO3 Killian was paralysed as he watched the yellow bug disappear over the horizon. He had always thought the sound of heartbreak was gloomy, desperate pleas, or maybe the dramatic sounds of an organ played by a tortured soul. But, as the wind stirred trees full of bright green leaves and the birds chirped joyful songs to one another, he realised the sound of heartbreak could be those of an ideal spring afternoon.

She’d always said she’d get out of this town one of these days; it had never occurred to him that Emma would do it without him. They’d been inseparable for as long as he cared to remember - the time before her was a haze of emotions that hurt to revisit and memories that seemed to have happened to someone else. Even as he helped her pack up the few items that would make the journey with her to New York, he hadn’t fully accepted that they were actually going to be separated.

When she’d gotten the opportunity to join her college roommate’s art gallery, she’d hesitated - I am not ready for this. He wouldn’t hear any of that nonsense; reminding her how incredibly talented she was and how her work thus far only proved she was absolutely ready for something exactly like this. He pulled her into his chest and kissed the top of her head. He held her, giving her comfort, until she’d pulled away, “I have to pack. I have to find a place to live. I can’t believe this. Where will I get coffee?”

He’d chuckled at her, “I bet they have coffee places in New York; it’s a big town.”

“Not with an owner who adores me enough to have my order ready before I’ve walked in  and paired with a pastry that I didn’t know I needed.”

“You’ll charm one soon enough, love.”

She’d pouted at him. “Or you could take me with you,” he’d said it playfully, with a flirty smile on his face, but his heart pounded in his throat when he’d said the words. She scoffed but hadn’t answered. Instead, she’d offered him some wine to celebrate her way out of this hidden town and the subject was forgotten.

He cursed himself for never telling her how her eyes were the most beautiful shade of green he’d ever seen, how she took his breath whenever she smiled at him, how he wished he could come home to her and trade the stories of their days in person every evening while he cooked dinner (Emma was an awful cook), and how lost in love he was for her. He couldn’t tell her these things now without her assuming that he was asking her to stay, to give up her dreams, for him.

When she’d called him this morning, he hoped it was to say she’d miss him or anything other than to beg him to bring her one last perfect cup of coffee when he came over to say goodbye later.

He met her at her flat with lunch and a full thermos and helped her carry her stuff down to her tiny vehicle. He held on hope that she’d give him any indication that she was already missing him even the smallest bit, even as she carried down the last box from her flat and stuffed it in her tiny car. She blew a stray hair from her face and gave him a quick hug, “Well, wish me luck.”

“You’ll be brilliant, Swan.”

She gave him one of her small smiles, one that flirted the line between a frown and a smile, before she drove away from him. His vow to never go a day without thinking of her was drowned out by the hum of the engine; the shattering of his heart too quiet to be heard over the cheery birdsong.

§§§§

They’d talked every few days when she first moved. Days turned to weeks turned to months. They’d planned a trip for him to see her gallery and her new life. But, she’d asked him to reschedule when a big commission came in that week. She started dating a fellow artist at the gallery and stopped answering Killian’s calls. The trip never rescheduled. The months turned to years.

As time passed, Killian expected the crippling ache in his chest to lessen, but the sharp pain never dulled.

He hadn’t stopped living his life; he had a standing game night with close friends, he had expanded his coffee shop and started shipping his speciality roasts all around the Northeast, and he was mostly a kind of good. It was just that his “good” was haunted by the constant presence of her absence.

It was another one of those unbearable spring days, filled with sunlight, bird chatter, and her ghost, so he’d taken off from work at lunch. Killian started walking without a destination in mind, just a need to escape the memories threatening to catch him and swallow him whole. He walked until the sweet smell of blooming flowers was replaced by the briny scent of the sea, the crunch of gravel underfoot turned to the rich thud of steps on wood, and a torturous spring day transformed into the ideal afternoon for sailing.

He spotted his sailboat, Dum Spiro, Spero, standing proud in her mooring and smiled. His kind of good wasn’t so bad.

“Killian?” a woman’s voice called over the sound of water lapping on the hulls and piers around him. He turned with a warm smile on his face, ready to welcome Belle on his impromptu adventure. She would often join him on days like these. He suspected the sea granted her wounded heart the same serenity it gave his.

His heart tripped and his smile faltered when he did turn to find the woman who’d called his name. The ghost that had haunted him made flesh. “Swan?” his voice was thick with emotion, too quiet to carry the distance to her.

She must have heard him though because she started running toward him. He stood a moment, dumbfounded before he walked quickly toward her. She jumped into his arms and he held her tight for a moment before he returned her to her feet, “I doubted I’d ever see you again.”

“I know.”

“I called.”

“I know.”

“You didn’t.”

“I didn’t.”

The muscles in his jaw twitched as he studied her, afraid to ask but desperate to know all the answers to the questions he has held on to since their last conversation. He didn’t know where to start or what it meant that she was here, now. “Why?,” he asked, voice quiet.

“I couldn’t,” her eyes flashed with hurt and anger that he couldn’t discern. But, he knew better than to press her on it.

“Why are you here, Swan?”

Tears pricked at her eyes, the nickname seeming to break something in her. “I’ve missed home. But, I wasn’t sure how to come back.”

“Couldn’t find a map? Google didn’t have directions to Storybooke?” Killian quipped.

Emma looked away. She studied the boats around them as if they could give her words she was struggling to find. She let out a breath and looked back to Killian, “I didn’t know how to come back to you. I missed you. But, I was the one who pulled away.. how do I undo that?”

“You can’t,” Killian was interrupted by Emma’s humourless laugh. He started again, “You can’t undo it, Emma. But, maybe if I had your word that you won’t shut me out again, we can get to know each other again?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Emma flashed him a smile that fused together a few of the fissures in his heart.

“Well, Swan, join me?” he gestured to his boat, eyebrow raised in question.

Emma studied the boat. “While I breathe, I hope,” she translated as she boarded the boat behind him. “Hope for what?”

“For you, love,” Killian answered. Always for you.

#cs fanfic #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #killian x emma #once upon a time #cs modern au ff #angst with a happy ending #this is what the muse wanted to write? #I'm sorry - I think?

[shady-swan-jones]

Captain Swan Fic Recs are back, baby! - April Edition

Hello, cs friends! It's been like, what, seven years since I last did this? Who's counting. Enjoy the fruits of y'all's labour and some amazing stories. Keep writing, we need you

-Sophie

when Emma falls in love [from the vault] by @spartanguard

Inspired by "When Emma Falls In Love" by Taylor Swift, part of series based on songs from the vault

everyone's wondering why Emma doesn't screw the hot bartender already, it's not like he hasn't given signs. but with emma's romantic past it's not like she's throwing chances to anyone, scruffily attractive as they may be. yet, it's not her past that's worrisome. will they break the curse?

rated T | 6.2k words | AO3

Untie Me | captain swan fic | office romance | mature | 3/5 | 5.9k | in progress, by me

“Didn’t you pay attention to trigonometry, Jones?” she balances her weight on the stick, languidly, in a way that ticks something into his already drowsy brain.  “Is this the part where you offer to teach me, Swan?” he says, advancing to her. 

Read on Ao3 or ff.net

I, lost, was passing by - by @dykelilypage

Five years ago, Emma's father had given her a necklace for her birthday. It was a beautiful ruby encased in a golden chain, that sat heavy on her chest. It was safe to say then, that Emma was more than a little bit pissed off to discover that it had been stolen from right around her neck. The one stroke of luck to the whole ordeal was that she knew exactly who had taken it. Killian Jones. rated E | 6267 words

love scare by @exhaustedpirate

it's a little canon-compliant one-shot that i place during the six weeks of peace, more specifically, like a day or so before 4B rated G | 922 words | ao3

Expecting a Secret [3/3] by @walviemort

Summary: After the events of 3x19, Killian is at his lowest after being rejected by Emma. When Snow’s labor turns out to be a false alarm, Zelena offers Killian a deal: she’ll leave the Charmings alone…if he gives her the baby she needs for her spell instead. There’s just one hitch: he has to keep it a secret. At least it will only take 10 days, right?

The Heart of a Villan (5/5) by @beckettj

There are only two people that can make me care about football: Ted Lasso and this. Words: 6181 ~ AO3

Perilous Harbor by @veryverynotgoodwrites

Emma Swan is heir apparent to her parents' kingdom in the Enchanted Forest, and a powerful wielder of light magic. This makes her the most wanted woman in the realm, not only for marriage, but for leverage against the king and queen. While her parents have been able to keep her safe so far, an attack is launched on Princess Emma that leaves her no choice but to seek the protection of her worst enemy - Killian Jones, infamous captain of the Jolly Roger and his pirate crew. ao3 in progress 19/23

a work of art by @sotangledupinit

“I always have to clean up your messes,” she mutters to herself angrily, eyes glaring down at the red liquid on the floor.

Between Waking Life and Our Dreams (12/?) by @nachocheese-itsmycheese

Season 3b canon divergence: Storybrooke is still missing when Emma, Killian, and Henry reach the town line. AO3 T

The Fluffy Problem by @ineffablecolors

"Oh, I'm going to have fun paying you back, Captain."

ff.net

The Cure for Loneliness (4/?) by @laianely

Killian went to the world without magic to finally kill Crocodile, but instead he met Emma in Gold's shop. And his whole life turned upside down overnight.

E 16k words in progress AO3

Pan Says... (8/?) by @hollyethecurious

After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.

To Cleave Destiny by @iamstartraveller776

She was going to pass the night the same way she did every year in adulthood: by getting drunk enough to forget that the world was incredibly unfair. Ao3, in progress, T, 4k

Note:

Don't forget to comment and show some love. To me too. Come on. Anyone else who wants to be tagged can request it.

If you have more fic recs or more links, drop them in the comments and I'll include them. You creative mermaids, love ya.

@kmomof4 @caught-in-the-filter @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @justanother-unluckysoul @karlyfr13s  @snowbellewells @xarandomdreamx @klynn-stormz @omninerdgirl  @facesiousbutton82 @finmnsoh56​ @followbatb @killianxswan @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd​

#cs ff #captain swan #ouat #killian jones #emma swan #ouat ff #cs modern au #cs au #cs fic #my lists

[spartanguard]

electric touch [from the vault]

Summary: All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life… | Emma and Killian have both been burned in love before; maybe this is the time they'll get it right. [Inspired by "Electric Touch (Taylor's Version) (From the Vault)" by Taylor Swift & Fall Out Boy] A/N: for my annual self-indulgent birthday fic: Just a little thing based on my favorite vault track from Speak Now (Taylor's Version)…definitely the first in a series of similarly-inspired fics ;) rated G | 1.9k | AO3

Emma gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter and took a deep breath. She was almost home. She just had to get there—then whatever impending breakdown was creeping up her spine could happen.

Although she wasn’t sure this was a bad one. A mental break-up? No, definitely not that—she didn’t want to use anything even vaguely related to that term; she’d had enough splits and kissed enough frogs that it was what she usually expected to happen. And this time—she really, really hoped this was the one that didn’t end badly; that maybe this time, she’d found the prince.

That was an awful lot to put on just one date, but—it was a pretty incredible one. (Or maybe her sister-in-law’s unending optimism was finally rubbing off on her.)

Emma had almost bailed on it to start with, regretting that she’d finally conceded to one of Mary Margaret’s setups. But her sister-in-law had been particularly insistent on this one. And the guy had agreed to meet at one of her favorite restaurants in Boston, so at least the food would be good. She was already preparing the “it’s not you, it’s me” excuse to get out of ever seeing him again.

Based on the picture she’d seen of him, she figured he’d just be another handsome asshole. He was definitely the first part—possibly too much, if that was possible, in a way that made her want to put up extra defenses to protect her from a pretty face and a leather jacket (those kinds of guys were usually good for one thing and one thing only, and if he was David’s friend, then he was off limits for that). 

But when she saw him across the restaurant, he looked nervous—or withdrawn—she couldn’t quite tell—anxiously tracing a tumbler of some amber-colored liquor as she approached. “Killian?” she asked, barely above a whisper—she didn’t want to scare him, getting the sudden impression he was like a timid but wild animal that might run away if startled.

He did jump a bit, but then when he realized what was going on, she saw a shift in his expression—almost like putting on a mask (though an attractive, charming one, with a brilliant grin that cut a dimple into his well-manicured scruff; it just wasn’t fully genuine). 

“Emma, I take it?” he replied, standing, in an accent that took her by surprise.

“That’s me,” she confirmed, trying to keep it casual (and having no clue if she achieved that). “Nice to meet you,” she said, extending her hand to his (the only one he had, she noticed, the cuff of his left sleeve hanging empty).

And that was when it all changed.

An electric shock traveled through her veins at his firm grasp—coursing fast and warm through her whole body, settling somewhere around her heart.

His eyes widened at her touch; had he felt it, too? It was probably just static—or nothing—but this was something different; maybe it was his aura, or something in his eyes—some metaphysical sign from the universe that only Mary Margaret would believe in—but something was telling her—he was different. In the best way possible.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he said, voice deep and a bit breathy.

Woah—she was getting ahead of herself. He just had really pretty eyes or something and that was throwing her off. Right?

But then he kissed the back of her hand and, no—this was definitely something different. (The scratch of his stubble brushed her skin and it took everything in her not to find out right then and there what it felt like against her lips.)

The night flew by in a blur—they more than hit it off after that. There was all the normal getting-to-know-you conversation, but even there, it seemed like they had a connection that went deeper than surface level.

Leaving to drive back to her tiny house in the outer suburbs was extremely difficult (not the hardest thing she’d ever done—no, that remained giving up her baby for adoption—but this was up there). Despite his assurance that he’d be in touch, she wasn’t sure she could wait that long.

But she’d have to, because, as she was pulling in her driveway, she realized she hadn’t gotten his number. 

She may have slammed her head against the steering wheel at that.

She took another breath and then headed inside. It was good, actually—because then she had some time to brace herself for the worst.

A fire of some kind had been lit—she knew that much; she just hoped that this would be the one time she didn’t get burned.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Killian managed to keep his cool until he was out of the restaurant and partway down the block, walking to his apartment, when he finally managed to exhale. That had been completely unexpected. 

It had been several years since anyone had truly captured his attention—not since he first met Milah, and certainly not since she died. He’d tried dating a few times, but nothing ever felt…right. 

(He’d pretty much given up on love entirely since the accident that took his hand and his Naval post. Mainly because he had to work on himself in that regard first.)

It had been a couple hours, but he swore—his hand was still buzzing from where Emma had first touched him. He flexed his fingers and felt a tingle spread through him—not as strong as earlier but it was still somehow running electricity through his nerves. 

He was still somewhat berating himself for the choice to kiss her hand—that it had maybe come off as trying too hard—but he hadn’t been able to resist. He also had the sense that Emma would have made it known if the gesture hadn’t been appreciated, and he’d be limping home to nurse his wounds rather than the almost-floating he was currently engaged in.

Emma was certainly beautiful—he knew that much from the pictures he’d seen from Dave, his old Navy buddy—but that wasn’t it; at least, not all of it. She was also smart, fierce, caring, independent, and just—so lovely. (Perhaps a bit prickly, but in a good way—a way he understood.)

But most of all: she got it. Him. Being surrounded by others, yet still being alone. It hadn’t been a major topic of conversation—it was still only a first date, after all—but she had that look: the one you get when you've been on your own. 

All of a sudden, he realized he was in front of his building. And all of a sudden, that empty flat loomed above him like a tomb. Sleeping alone was something he was accustomed to, but for the first time in so long, it was the last thing he wanted to do.

But…his vintage Chevelle was right there, parked on the street. 

He pulled out his phone from his pocket, only to realize—they hadn’t exchanged digits. Blast. 

But they had discussed domiciles—and he knew exactly where her house was, near the little diner he’d discovered while searching for the closest fish and chips Boston had compared to what he’d had growing up in England. (It hadn’t been, but they made a damn fine burger and he’d been back a few times.)

So he fished out his keys and hopped in the car. He didn’t have a ton of confidence in his romantic skills anymore, but he also knew that he only had to get it right one time. It hadn’t happened in the past; maybe this would be it. He’d known enough heartbreak not to hope, but found it sparking inside anyways. 

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Emma was puttering around her house, trying to find a distraction from thinking about him. But she was coming up short. There was no clutter to put away, no dishes to wash, surprisingly no laundry to fold.

She flopped herself down on her couch and picked up the remote, but nothing on TV sounded good. Scrolling social media on her phone was just a blur of color that she couldn’t focus on.

Her finger hovered over the messaging app. Would David think it was weird if she asked him for Killian’s number? Or rather—would Killian think that? Was it coming on too strong? Should she give space and wait for him to make a move? (Was she imagining all of this?)

This. This was why she didn’t do dating. There were way too many variables. 

But, goddammit. Couldn’t this just be the one time the stars aligned and it just…happened?

No; Emma’s life never got to be that easy. And she couldn’t even really justify going to bed yet because it was only 8:05; the sun had only just set. 

She threw her head back and groaned. God, she was a mess.

But while she was wallowing in—not misery, not self-loathing, some other thing—she heard the sound of an engine. No one else lived by her, and she hadn’t ordered anything to be delivered. What the hell?

She turned and looked—right into the glare of two headlamps from a 1970s muscle car. The engine shut off, killing the lights—and her heart skipped several beats when she saw who was behind the steering wheel.

Without thinking any further, she jumped up and ran for the door. And promptly ran into her coffee table, but the inevitable bruise on her shin was worth it.

She ended up limping the rest of the way, then took a brief moment to compose herself. And yanked it open.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Killian had ran up to Emma’s door, and was just about to knock when it swung open.

Part of him had been second-guessing this gesture the entire drive over, romantic as it was intended to be. She gave him a small smile, but that didn’t completely assure him that this advance wasn’t unwanted.

“Sorry; I—” he started, but she cut him off.

With a kiss.

She fisted her hands in the lapels of his leather jacket and pulled him close; he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight.

When their lips met—it was instantaneous: whether they were real or imagined, sparks flew, jolting him from head to toe. It was incandescent—explosive—thrilling—terrifying—in all the best ways.

They broke for air, but stayed close. “You felt it, too?” he murmured; he had to ask.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “So much.”

“Maybe we should kiss again—just to make sure,” he suggested.

She looked up at him and smirked, then dragged him in the house.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Killian wasn’t sure of much; just that this felt right. And it could either break his heart—or bring it back to life. It was a risk he was willing to take. 

Thankfully, Emma was of the same mind—maybe even thinking about forever on her end. All he knew was that he was willing to spend just as long to figure it (them) out—especially if every touch had the same electricity as the first.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

thanks so much for reading! tagging some friends:

@optomisticgirl @xpumpkindumplingx @cocohook38 @kmomof4 @kat2609 @shipsxahoy @mryddinwilt @annytecture @phiralovesloki @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @wistfulcynic @initiala @idoltina @pirateherokillian @colinoeyebrows @wingedlioness @word-bug @thejollyroger-writer @ineffablecolors @stubblesandwich​ @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis @scientificapricot @searchingwardrobes @donteattheappleshook @jrob64 @the-darkdragonfly @stahlop @klynn-stormz @resident-of-storybrooke

#cs ff #captain swan ff #cs modern au #spartanguard: from the vault #my ff

[myfearless-love]

Fields of Freedom - Chapter 2.

SUMMARY: In a twist that even her inner circle couldn't predict, Emma abandons the urban hustle for the enchanting embrace of farm life, spurred by an unexpected inheritance. Armed with determination but little agrarian know-how, she enlists the help of her mysterious neighbor, Killian Jones. What starts as a simple offer of farming expertise blossoms into a harvest of support that neither Emma nor Killian saw coming. Turns out, amid the sprawling fields, it's Killian who secretly yearns for a helping hand in the delicate dance of life.

Words: 7k

TW: domestic violence

Chapters: 2/2

Buy me a coffee if you like :)

Read on: AO3 or FF.net

Tagging some people who might be interested: @anmylica @elfiola @zaharadessert @gingerchangeling @undercaffinatednightmare @jrob64 @teamhook @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @mie779 @winterbaby89 @tiganasummertree @stahlop @rylieblu @ultraluckycatnd @eddisfargo @booksteaandtoomuchtv @laianely @hollyethecurious @resident-of-storybrooke @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @captainswan-kellie

#captain swan #cs ff #killian jones #emma swan #once upon a time #ouat #ouat ff #emma x killian #captain hook #cs #cs fanfic #cs fanfiction #modern au #farmer Killian #city girl Emma #niki writes #FoF

[kazoosandfannypacks]

Postcards (CaptainSwan Drabble)

requested by anon

The sun shone on the porch, where Killian's guitar serenaded Emma as he searched for the courage to tell her what was on his heart.

"I like you," Killian blurted, before he could talk himself out of it.

"What?" Emma asked.

"I- you make me feel alive, like every moment is a summer evening like these." he said, "I just want you to know."

"Do you really mean that?" Emma asked.

"With all my heart."

"Good," Emma smiled, "'cause I like you too."

He smiled like a kid on the schoolyard, discovering the rush of first love all over again.

(a/n and tags under the cut)

a/n: this is the fastest I've ever gotten one of these drabbles written. The fic really wrote itself, and the song gave me so much joy as I was writing. Thank you for the excellent request, anon!

taglist: @zahara @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @booksteaandtoomuchtv @jrob64 @tiganasummertree @anmylica @teamhook @undercaffinatednightmare @gingerchangeling @lonelyspectator @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @cs-rylie @silver-the-phoenix @pawshapedheart  [if you’d like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

send me a ship and a song and i'll write a drabble!

#once upon a time #ouat #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan #once upon a time season 3 #au #modern au #fanfiction #captain swan fanfiction #cs ff #fanfic #drabble #cs drabble #the ol' kazzle drabble #kazzy writes #kazzy writes fanfic #postcards #james blunt

[iamstartraveller776]

A/N: In jest, @averbaldumpingground challenged me to write all 20 prompts from this fake dating list. Well, joke’s on my friend, I accepted the challenge. I’m doing 500-word ficlets for each, using different fandoms/ships.

I’m taking a bit more artistic license for this one.

2. “I’m easy. Buy me a nice ring and I’ll lie to your parents.” —OUAT/Captain Swan (ao3)

A FAVOR

Killian sits at the bar, spinning his untouched rum in languid circles. He curses the nervous energy sparking beneath his skin. Emma Swan is hardly more than an acquaintance, his best mate’s adopted sister, in fact. And utterly off-limits, even if he were so inclined. Meeting her boyfriend last year—or is it fiancé now?—cured any such budding notions.

But Emma sounded so earnest on the phone when she asked him to meet her.

The front door creaks open, and his pulse ratchets up at the sight of her long blond locks. She shrugs out of her coat, shakes the late Spring snowfall from it before hanging it on a nearby rack. Her eyes catch his, and he offers her a smile—one that dips a tick when he notices the small but unmistakable bump in her belly.

“Thanks for meeting me,” she says as she takes the stool next to his.

He waits until she orders her drink—a club soda with lime—before replying, “Of course, love.” He holds up his tumbler. “I see that congratulations are in order.”

 “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” she mutters with a grimace. Before he can question her lackluster response, she says, “So, I have a really weird favor to ask you, and I don’t want it getting back to David.”

Killian raises a brow as he weighs the consequences of keeping this secret from his mate. Curiosity wins over caution in the end. “I’ll be the very soul of discretion.”

She sags in relief. “There’s a company retreat next weekend,” she explains. “I need you to come and pretend to be my husband.”

Killian stares at her. Out of all the potential favors she might have asked of him, this one didn’t even make the list. “I don’t quite understand. Wouldn’t you want…” he trails off, trying to remember the name of her significant other.

“Neal?” Emma lets out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, no. He’s long gone.”

There’s a story there, but she doesn’t seem keen on expounding. It’s not his business anyway. “Even so, why should you need a fake husband?”

She rolls her eyes. “Because the CEO is a traditionalist, and he made a point to tell me to bring my spouse next weekend. The imaginary spouse I’ve been talking about for the last four months.” She downs the rest of her club soda. “I’m pretty sure my promotion rides on it.”

Well, now. That was a fine spot of trouble she’s landed herself in.

She sucks in a breath. “So, will you do it?”

He’s always had trouble resisting a beautiful, tough lass in distress. Bloody hell. He gives her a devilish grin. “Buy me a nice ring, and I’ll be the most devoted husband your boss has ever laid eyes on.”

“Thank you, Killian.” She leans into him for a quick and enthusiastic embrace.

As he inhales the pleasant scent of lavender in her hair, he’s fairly certain that this has disaster written all over it.

~FIN~

#captain swan #cs fanfic #cs ff #killian jones x emma swan #my fic #au #modern non magical

[zaharadessert]

Get Your Motor Running

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: cnc

Length: 6k

Summary: Emma Nolan is driving home to Storybrooke having finished college, when her car breaks down. With no cell service the only thing in walking distance is the local biker bar...

Notes: So this has been sitting in a folder for ages, and I was inspired by a drawing from @wild-werewolf that someone shared with me today to post it. So here it is! Art (when I stip Having arguments with the hosting site...) by me, Beta is the lovely @kmomof4

Tagging: @kmomof4 @teamhook @winterbaby89 @jonesfandonfanatic @undercaffinatednightmare @anmylica @elfiola @booksteaandtoomuchtv @tiganasummertree @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @myfearless-love @lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @xhookswenchx @wefoundloveunderthelight @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @itsfabianadocarmo @ouatpost @ultraluckycatnd @thepirateandhisson @xsajx @captainswan21 @spaceconveyor @pirateprincessofpizza @sparlecorn93 @hollyethecurious @ammelia

As always, let me know if you’d like me to add you to my taglist for future fics :) Apologies, 90% of my taglist appears to be refusing to tag people and I can't work out why??? ugh.

Complete story on AO3

- - - - -

The coastal road into her home town was picturesque and full of nostalgia, if Emma had been driving it during the day. But it was late and the once familiar, narrow, winding road was instead treacherous and foreboding. She’d hoped to be driving it as the sun was setting, making the most of the view. But with issues getting out of the city due to roadwork, then accidents and uncommonly bad traffic on the interstate, she was running about four hours behind schedule.

It seemed her run of bad luck was far from over. She rounded a particularly tricky corner and the engine started to sputter. By some miracle, there was a view stop she could pull into and she managed to get clear of the road just as the engine died completely.

Emma could have raged and screamed with frustration, only about twenty to twenty-five minutes from her parents house. Instead, she sighed, rolling her grip around the steering wheel and letting her head rest on it for a moment, tears welling in her eyes.

She took a couple of deep breaths and shoved the door open, stepping out of the car and popping the hood on the back of her bug. There was a bit of steam, and some hissing but nothing obvious that she could see. All the fluid levels had read as normal for what she’d expect after a long journey, but maybe this was just a few miles too many for her trusty vessel.

She shook her head and slammed the lid shut. Grabbing her phone off the front seat, she found she had no signal. It was spotty at best out here, but she hadn’t expected her car to die, either… Her battery was super low, and she knew by the time she’d walked far enough to find a signal, it would probably be dead and with no way to charge it because her car was out of commission.

She should have put it on charge when she got stuck in traffic just past Boston, but she had been cut off by that asshole in a Toyota and had completely forgotten. And now, here she was. On five percent battery, with no signal, on a winding road in the middle of the night.

#captain swan #cs ff #zaharadessert writes #apparently i art too #biker!killian #sheriff'sdaughter!emma #modern au

[searchingwardrobes]

Scarborough Fair: 8/?

I apologize for the long wait for this chapter! We just moved into a new house, and at first we didn't have internet. I also felt that every spare moment needed to be spent unpacking and getting the house all set up. I finally escaped to Barnes and Noble to write because I just can't do it at home right now! Anyways, I hope the contents of this chapter make it up to you. We're getting to the good stuff ;)

Is the situation Emma is in as a pregnant foster teen accurate? I really have no idea, but it's in the book Impossible that this is based on. I also have no idea if you can make a shirt like that. Again, I'm going by the book Impossible. I'm not following it exactly, but those two plot points were kind of important, so I left them in. Anyways, things are going to keep getting steamier from here on out, though our lovers are far from out of danger. Plus, we've still got Snow, David, and their kingdom out there somewhere, so hang on, folks! It's gonna be a romantic yet bumpy ride.

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Emma Swan has had a charmed life, despite being a foster child. She has a wonderful family who loves her, and the best friends in the world. The only thing that mars her idyllic existence is her birth mother: a homeless woman who mutters nonsensical rhymes and claims to be Snow White. One fateful night, however, Emma’s world is shattered. Perhaps her mother’s rhymes aren’t nonsense after all.

Rated: M for date rape, dubious consent, teen pregnancy, and sexy times (the good kind!)

Words: Over 3k in this chapter

Chapter One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six

Also on Ao3

Tagging:  (let me know if you wish to be removed or added):  @snowbellewells @teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @xhookswenchx-reads-blog @thisonesatellite @welllpthisishappening @spartanguard @ohmakemeahercules @tiganasummertree @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressandlioness1 @jamif @undercaffinatednightmare @onceratheart18 @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressandlioness1 @jonesfandomfanatic​ @hollyethecurious​

Chapter Eight:

The entire family jumped right in to help Emma solve the riddle that had defeated her mother. Liam dove back into every bit of research he had accumulated about the song Scarborough Fair. He and Ingrid met with the art professor he had mentioned who had done her dissertation on textiles. Elsa talked to the scientists on board ship and zoomed with the family every single day. Even Anna found her niche, taking Emma to the library and helping her check out every book available about pregnancy and childbirth. 

And Killian? He was the rock she could lean on. The one who made her smile or laugh just when things got too heavy. He also ran whatever errands he needed to: taking Emma to her first prenatal appointment, shopping for a long list of different types of fabrics at the craft store to make this impossible shirt, and going for a late night ice cream run when Emma’s cravings started. In some ways, nothing changed.

Yet his declaration of love still hung in the air. He hadn’t brought it up again, hadn’t treated her any differently, hadn’t asked her on a date or tried to get physical. He was giving her space to decide what she wanted, and it honestly was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. 

At the same time, Emma was confused. She had always loved Killian, of course. But was it romantic love? She could even admit she had been physically attracted to him at times, but did that mean she was in love with him? Did she even want something like that right now, when she was processing having a kid of all things and still healing from a violent rape? Did Killian fully understand what he would be getting himself into? Did she want to burden him with all her crap? 

She was just completely and utterly confused. 

Then, as if she didn’t have enough to worry about, Ingrid came home one day from work visibly shaken. The entire family stilled in the process of getting dinner on the table when they saw her standing in the kitchen, her face ashen. 

“What is it?” Liam asked, his voice filled with dread.

“Emma,” she said, her voice choking on her foster daughter’s name, “Liam and I need to talk to you. Immediately.”

Killian found Emma later, sobbing in her bed. When she poured it all out to him, he was livid. 

“This is absolute shit! I can’t believe they would do that!”

“They would, and they can,” Emma explained as she hugged her pillow to her torso. “Because I’m still technically in foster care, my baby automatically is, too.”

“They can’t just take it away from you!”

Emma shrugged. “Ingrid and Liam are no longer licensed to take in infants. I either have to find somewhere else to live, or my baby will be put in a different foster home.”

“Can’t they just get licensed?”

Emma shook her head. “It’s a year-long process of paperwork and visitations from social workers. I’m due in five months! Killian, what am I going to do? Where am I going to go?”

She began to sob again, and when Killian eased into the bed next to her and put his arms around her, he could feel the small swell at her abdomen where her baby was growing. He felt a strong desire to protect them both. 

“We won’t let them take you or the baby away from us. We’re a family.”

“That’s what your brother said. Exactly.”

Killian chuckled. “Of course he did.”

“But Killian,” she choked out, “what happens if I don’t solve the riddle? I was comforted at least knowing my baby would be safe and raised by Ingrid and Liam, but now . . .”

She sobbed again against his chest, and he held her tight. “I won’t let that happen,” he vowed. “You aren’t going to go mad, Emma, you won’t. We’ll solve this. All of it. Together.”

*************************************************************************

The only time Emma’s family ever used the formal dining room was on Thanksgiving. Someone always had to actually dust the table and air out the room, but Ingrid always insisted they “do Thanksgiving right,” even down to the old chipped china plates with the maple leaf border. 

So it felt odd to be in here now with the warm summer sun spilling through the window and shining on the ancient area rug. Assorted fabrics littered the table and a sewing mannequin stood in the corner, the headless and limbless torso sending an ominous shiver down Emma’s spine. 

“So this one is probably our best bet,” Ingrid explained. 

She cradled the bundle of scratchy, thick fabric and held it out to Emma who reached out and ran her hand over the coarse woolen felt. 

“That feels like it would make the most uncomfortable shirt in the history of the world.”

Ingrid shrugged. “Does it really matter? You wet this fabric, mold it to that torso over there, and according to Dr. Freemont, when it dries, it will hold together.”

Emma took the fabric and nodded. “So then we have it. A shirt made without needle or seam.”

“Who’s gonna wear it, though?”

Ingrid and Emma whirled around at the sound of Killian’s voice. Emma’s mouth went dry immediately. He stood there, his hair wet with sweat, and his chest bare. Emma couldn’t stop staring at it. She used to think chest hair was gross. She was wrong. Killian’s was thick and dark, and it set her pulse pounding. Realizing just how long she’d been ogling him, she dragged her gaze up to his face. He gave her a knowing grin as he lifted a carton of milk to his mouth and took a swig. 

“Where the hell is your shirt?” Emma snapped.

“Where the hell is your glass,” Ingrid added drily. “You’re not the only one who might like some milk, you know.”

“I just got home from work, and I’m hot,” Killian responded, as if that explained everything.

Emma tried really, really hard not to think of the other connotation of the word hot, but she was failing. Killian hadn’t brought up his declaration since that fateful dinner last week, and Emma was still trying to process it. Yet ever since, she was hyper aware of Killian’s presence. 

His lack of a shirt didn’t help, either. 

“Pour that milk in a glass, Killian, I’m not kidding,” Ingrid said in her rarely used mom voice. 

“Sure,” Killian said, sauntering back towards the kitchen. He gave Emma one more backwards glance with a delighted smirk on his face. Emma’s face heated several degrees. 

“I think I know what he means, though,” Ingrid sighed.

“What?” Emma asked, her head still a little fuzzy.

“Is it really a shirt unless someone actually wears it?” 

Emma sighed in exasperation. “So have someone wear it.”

“I’ll do it.”

They whirled back around to find Killian standing in the doorway again. He had a glass of milk in one hand and a stack of Oreos in the other. He still hadn’t donned a shirt. Emma found herself staring again, admiring the way a summer working in construction had toned his muscles. She dropped the fabric she’d been clutching in her hands and swore under her breath as it rolled across the floor. Killian smirked at her, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to slap it off his face or kiss him senseless. 

“Well,” Ingrid said, seemingly oblivious to the sexual tension in the room, “if Killian’s going to wear it, then that makes things a little more complicated.”

“Why?” Emma and Killian asked simultaneously. He had stepped further into the room, and his close proximity almost made Emma lose hold of the fabric she’d just stooped to pick up. 

“Well, if we mold the shirt to that torso over there, and it dries, I don’t think it will fit him.”

“So measure me,” Killian said, taking a bite of a cookie. His back was to Emma now as he addressed Ingrid, and it was just as distracting as the front of him. He had freckles across his shoulders, and a few along the small of his back. 

“That won’t work.” Ingrid shook her head. “The fabric doesn’t work that way. Not if we’re trying to make it without needle or seam. We’ll have to mold it to your body.”

Emma gave a little squeak at Ingrid’s words and nearly dropped the fabric all over again. To Killian’s credit, he didn’t acknowledge her reaction.

“What would that entail?” he asked casually, taking a sip of his milk. 

“I’m not sure,” Ingrid mused, tapping her finger on her chin. 

Silence fell for a moment, the only sounds from Killian snacking on his milk and cookies. Then Ingrid suddenly clapped her hands together. 

“I’ve got it! Duct tape!”

Killian’s eyes widened. “If you wrap me in duct tape, you’ll never get it off. Not without taking my skin with it.”

“You could wear a shirt,” Emma said. 

“You made that clear already,” Killian smirked at her. “I told you, I’m hot.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I mean for the duct tape. You wear a white undershirt, I wrap it in tape, then I can put the shirt, molded to your torso, on the mannequin. Then I make the shirt.”

“You’d need to be wearing the shirt when she tapes it,” Ingrid clarified. 

“I figured that,” Killian nodded.

Emma’s throat went suddenly dry. She’d have to put her hands on his body. She’d have to be in extremely close proximity to him. She was equal parts giddy at the thought and terrified. She was light-headed just thinking about it. 

“Perfect,” Killian announced with a grin. “When do we start?”

Emma wanted to ask Ingrid if she would do it for her, but she couldn’t risk that. The riddle implied that Emma had to make the shirt herself. She steeled herself and turned to Killian. 

“Shower so you don’t stink, and then we’ll get to work.”

“As you wish,” he told her with a mock bow before he turned from the room.

Ingrid, still oblivious to the fact that Emma was practically swooning and trembling simultaneously, turned away from the dining room table and grabbed her purse from a nearby chair. 

“Since you’ve got this under control, I’ll head to the supermarket. Anything you need?”

Slightly dazed, Emma managed to shake her head “no.”

“Great, I’ll see you kids later.”

In the kitchen, Killian rinsed his dirty glass and put it in the dishwasher. He smiled to himself as he headed up the stairs. He hadn’t pressed Emma in any way since his declaration. Whether she shared his feelings or not, he’d told himself, he would still be there for her. Yet the way she’d reacted to him just now gave him hope. Maybe he would win her heart after all. 

*******************************************************************************************

“Sit right here,” Emma instructed, pointing to the dinner room chair directly in front of her. Killian obeyed, and when he looked up at her, his eyes didn’t hold teasing as she’d expected. They were tender and vulnerable. Emma swallowed nervously.

“Don’t be nervous,” he told her.

“I’m not,” she scoffed.

“You’re holding that roll of tape so hard, your knuckles are turning white.”

Emma scowled at him and pulled a long strip of tape from the roll. He blanched, and she laughed.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” she told him. 

He swallowed, and she followed the motion of his adam’s apple. She licked her lips as she drew closer, touching his arm gently as she raised it.

 “I’ll start with the sleeves,” she explained unnecessarily. 

She had to slip her fingers beneath the fabric to make sure she didn’t accidentally tape his skin. She thought she heard an intake of breath from his throat as her fingers skimmed his bicep, but maybe she’d imagined it. She wound the tape around and around the sleeve of his shirt, but when she began to wrap it around his shoulder blade, she had to step closer to him. He spread his legs to allow it, and she leaned over him, her breasts pressing against his collarbone. The sharpness of breath this time was impossible to ignore. She paused and locked eyes with him - he face was so close to hers . . . 

“Did I hurt you?”

He pressed his lips together and shook his head, so she continued. Was his breathing becoming shallow, or was that her? Was that his heart thumping so fast, or her own? When she wrapped the tape around his chest, she could feel a “thump, thump” beneath her palm. 

“Um, Emma, give me a second.”

Killian grabbed a throw pillow from the wingback chair in the corner of the dining room then resumed his seat. He clutched the pillow in his lap, and his face flamed all the way to the tips of his ears. 

“Oh,” Emma breathed softly. 

Killian swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Emma said, her own cheeks warm. 

“I just don’t want to freak you out . . . or scare you or anything. You know, because . . . because of him.”

Emma shook her head, tendrils of hair brushing her cheeks where they fell from the messy bun on the top of her head. She bit her lip as she got lost in his eyes; darker than usual and stormy. She stepped close again, between his legs, and she almost laughed when he clutched the pillow tighter. 

  “Emma,” he groaned, his eyes falling shut. 

“I’m glad,” she said, her own voice deep and trembling, “that I have that effect on you.”

“You do?” 

He opened his eyes, and she nodded. Her hands shook as she lifted them and rested them upon his temples. She threaded her fingers through his hair. It was softer than she had imagined. He tipped his head back and watched her intently. She thought of him the other night, stating so matter-of-factly that he loved her. He had said it as something unshakable and infallible. Something as predictable and steady as the seasons. Then they had gone on as they always had, with no demands that she respond to his declaration in any way. 

“And you could never scare me, Killian,” she clarified. 

Then, suddenly, she was kissing him. She was kissing Killian in the middle of the dining room. His torso was half wrapped in duct tape, he was helping her make this crazy, ridiculous, magical shirt . . . 

And she was kissing him. He was kissing her back. He was kissing her back after declaring his love for her at the kitchen table. He was kissing her thoroughly, his tongue exploring her mouth, even though she hadn’t said it back.  Or maybe it didn’t matter, she wasn’t sure. After all, this was only the second boy she’d ever kissed. But no, she wasn’t going to think about that or him. Not when Killian was kissing her within an inch of her life.

The pillow he was clutching fell to the floor when he wrapped his arms around her, and Emma could feel his arousal through his jeans and pressing into her. For a split second, fear tried to grab hold of her, but it was banished quickly. He wouldn’t just take her; he wasn’t like that. 

Killian pulled away, and Emma was shocked to hear a whimper slip past her lips, especially when he stood up from the chair and took a step back. Why was he pulling away, when they - oh.

He was sinking down on one knee, and she suddenly wondered if she were dreaming. It all felt so surreal, and he was still half wrapped in duct tape. Maybe Snow had whacked her in the head with one of those bottles after all, and all this time she’d been in a coma at the hospital. It would explain so much, honestly. 

“Emma,” he said, (and were those tears gathering in his eyes?), “I know this is a lot to ask of you, since you haven’t even told me yet how you feel about me. And this is something I think I always knew I would do eventually, just not now.” 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them and continuing. His words reverberated in her soul, and she knew he was right, they were always going to arrive here, somehow. She knew it the same way she knew her own reflection. 

“But with everything going on, I don’t want to wait. I know you face an uncertain future, Emma, but I always want to be by your side. So, will you marry me?” He didn’t even pause for her answer, but plunged ahead. “It makes so much sense, if you think about it. I mean, we’re going to break this curse, Emma, we will. We won’t give up, ever. But, I know you worry, and if I’m your husband, you won’t have to. You’ll know I’ll be there for the baby. It will be mine, legally. It won’t end up in foster care. Not that anything’s going to happen to you, I swear to you it won’t, but if I can ease your burden . . .”

He trailed off, and Emma sank to her knees right along with him, reaching out to cup his face in her hands. 

“And if I do go insane -”

“You won’t!”

“But if we don’t break the curse . . .”

“I’ll take care of you,” he said solemnly, “always and forever.”

It would be selfish of her, she knew that it would, to ask that of him. Nevertheless, his vow felt like the sun breaking through the darkest of clouds, and she knew she couldn’t refuse his gift. Her hands slipped down his shoulders, then his arms, and she clasped his hands tightly in hers. 

“I love you.”

It wasn’t, she discovered, difficult to say. It was just so true, so undeniable, like how she knew the sun would come up each morning. His smile was bright and blinding, and she smiled too at the sight of his dimples. They had been so rare lately. 

“Does that mean yes?” he asked her teasingly. 

A tear slipped down her face, and she found she couldn’t speak. She nodded, and he understood. Everyone would say they were crazy, of course. He was nineteen, and she was seventeen. It was absolutely insane. Ingrid and Liam wouldn’t like it, she was sure, but she also knew they wouldn’t stop them.

 He dried her tears with his thumb, then traced her lips before kissing her tenderly. The kiss continued as they clung to one another in blissful, shining faith and hope. In that moment, she believed him: They would break the curse. 

Emma and Killian were so wrapped up in one another, they didn’t notice the slight shaking of the house or the rainbow colored light that swept through the room. 

**************************************************

It wasn’t the first time Robert Gold had entered the Swan/Jones home when the family was gone. He had explored every nook and cranny, flipped through photographs, smelled their clothes. He knew this family; every weakness to be exploited had been sifted and examined. 

Yet the house had never protested like it did today, and when he turned towards the dining room, he could clearly see why. 

It was a shirt. Hideous, smelly, and dripping wet, but a shirt nonetheless. When it dried, it could even be worn. 

“Well, well, well,” he muttered, reaching out a hand towards it. 

Almost immediately, he recoiled, the shirt burning him before he’d even grazed it. Magic radiated from it. The glamor spell he always wore faded, and his hands turned a scaly green, nails yellowed and gnarled at each finger tip. It wasn’t just the shirt, he realized. The entire dining room reeked with the magic, and he was in pain from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. 

“Of course you’re in pain, Dark One.”

He writhed on the ground and cried out as a much younger face pulled away from his ancient, twisted one. 

“Stop fighting me!”

“I’m doing all this for you, son!”

“Are you, Papa?”

“I got her for you, didn’t I?”

“But I can’t keep her!”

The Dark One could no longer hold onto the shared body, and the younger man stood to his feet, opened the front door, and walked out onto the sidewalk. Neal Cassidy was the name he preferred in this realm, a name that Rumplestiltskin hated. Baelfire was his name: a strong, powerful name.

“Oh Papa,” Baelfire - Neal - whispered, “settle down and cooperate.”

“You know I’ll take over again eventually.”

Neal didn’t argue. Instead he clenched his jaw and gritted his next words through his teeth. 

“This won’t work forever. You’re losing, and you know it.”

“They only finished the first task. They’ll never complete the rest. Not in time, anyway.”

“But that magic - you know exactly what that was.”

Ah yes, he did. True love. He wasn’t worried. The Dark One had defeated true love before, and he would do it again.

#cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan ff #cs impossible au #cs au #lieutenant duckling #modern fantasy #angst #cs angsty august #captain swan angsty august #impossible au

[iverna]

Holiday Subterfuge (CS one-shot)

Emma has been using her imaginary boyfriend as an excuse to get out of work-related socialising all year. But people are getting suspicious, so when it's time for the Christmas party, Emma makes a deal with a friend: he'll call, wearing his scrubs, pretending to be her boyfriend. It goes reasonably well until Killian Jones shows up. (Based on several prompts that sort of coalesced into... whatever this is. Yes, I wrote modern AU. 'tis the season, and all that.) rated G | ~ 2,700 words | read on ao3

This was a mistake. Emma suspected it was a mistake the second she agreed to it, but call her naive, she still had hope.

The plan was simple. She’s been using her non-existent boyfriend who works odd hours as an excuse to get out of after-work get-togethers, team-building trips, invitations to lunch, and every other bonding activity she hates. And it worked perfectly—he’s a doctor, so everyone is always full of understanding and admiration.

Until the annual Christmas party. Which she has known about for weeks in advance, and which they planned especially so that everyone could attend.

And Emma does not have a doctor boyfriend. She doesn’t have any boyfriend.

Enter Victor Whale, a friend of a friend, a man who is more than willing to accept a bottle of whiskey in return for pretending to be her boyfriend via FaceTime. The plan was simple: he calls wearing his scrubs, makes a bit of small talk, and she gets another year of peace and quiet.

Emma is holding her phone, watching Victor chat to her boss, Ingrid, when she becomes aware that someone’s watching her.

She turns—right into Killian Jones.

For a moment, she doesn’t quite register it. She’s used to seeing Killian in jeans and a sweater down at the docks, or in a t-shirt and loose pants at fencing practice. She’s never seen him in a suit before. It’s not a bad look—she’s pretty sure that no outfit in the world could make him look bad—but it doesn’t quite look like him, either.

“What are you doing here?”

He looks just as off-balance as she feels, but as she watches, he pulls himself together. “I was invited,” he says, and she realises that there’s someone standing next to him. A petite brunette, dressed impeccably in a blue blouse and corduroy skirt. Belle.

Belle, who has also begged off various work engagements due to her boyfriend.

She’s dating Killian?

Emma’s stomach is dropping, something that feels horribly like loss plummeting through her. She thought he was single. He flirts like he’s single. And yeah, she always rebuffs him, because that’s been their dynamic ever since they met.

And maybe, just a bit, because she wants to know whether he’ll keep trying.

So far, he has. Or so she thought. And it’s not like she thought he really means everything he says to her, but she did think—she assumed—well. She didn’t know he was taken.

By Belle.

And then her brain catches up to her, and she takes a closer look at him and the expression on his face and the guilty, trapped set to his shoulders and she realises two things: one, he didn’t expect to see her here either. And two, he’s lying.

He’s not dating Belle. Belle is doing the exact same thing Emma is, except she clearly didn’t think of the video-call compromise.

He meets her eyes, and he seems to realise that he’s giving the game away, because he straightens his spine and relaxes his stance, a smile on his face. Another lie. She’s caught it now, and he’s not fooling her. She smiles back blandly.

Belle is not quite oblivious to the byplay. “Hi, Emma,” she says brightly. “You two know each other?”

“Aye,” Killian says, a heavy, almost resigned note to his voice despite his apparent efforts. “Emma is in the fencing club.”

“Oh.” And then Belle’s eyes widen, and she stares at her ‘boyfriend’. “Wait, you mean this is the—?”

Killian clears his throat loudly. “I didn’t know you worked here, Swan.”

Belle closes her mouth, though her eyes are still wide, as if she’s processing some kind of revelation.

Emma has no idea what that’s about. What she really wants is to call Killian out right now, but that means giving Belle’s game away, and that wouldn’t be fair. She’ll get him later. For now, she just shrugs. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Truer words,” Killian mutters. Under his suave exterior, he still looks unsettled. Maybe he knows that she knows. Or maybe he’s worried that she’ll figure it out. He can almost never fool her during practice either. She can always tell when he’s feinting.

Granted, that goes both ways, but still.

“Emma?” a voice comes from her left.

She’s forgotten about her phone. The video call. Victor.

Crap.

“Uh, yeah.” She forces a smile as she turns her attention back to the screen. “Sorry, I got—uh, a friend just showed up.”

Victor smiles back. “Do they wanna say hi?”

“Who’s that?” Belle asks.

And that’s when Ingrid leans in with a bright smile and says, “This is Victor! We finally get to meet Emma’s mysterious boyfriend. He’s on call at the hospital tonight.”

Belle’s eyes widen. She glances at Killian, who has gone rigid. Emma, fighting back a renewed feeling of dread, angles the phone so Belle can see. “Victor, this is Belle.”

“Ah, yes.” Victor is all smiles and charm. “Emma’s mentioned you. She didn’t mention that you’re gorgeous. Wow.”

Belle blushes, though she looks rather like she wants to sink into the ground and disappear. “Thank you.”

“So what do you do exactly, Belle?” Victor asks oh-so-smoothly. Emma resists the urge to roll her eyes. He was bad enough with Ingrid; if he keeps this up, he is not getting the whiskey. He’s supposed to be her boyfriend, not trying to score with her colleagues.

Killian is glaring at the phone, and for a moment, Emma doubts her own assessment. There’s something in that frown, in his stance now, that looks… not possessive, but definitely protective. Is he jealous? Maybe he really is dating Belle.

But no. Killian can play the charmer with the best of them, but he’s a romantic at heart. There’s no way he wouldn’t have mentioned a girlfriend. And there’s no way he’d be dating someone if he wasn’t besotted. And if he were… she would know. Everyone would know, the same way everyone knows that David is madly in love with Mary Margaret.

She’s never imagined Killian dating anyone, but now that the thought has occurred, she can’t imagine him being anything other than devoted.

Even though she really has nothing to base that on.

But the idea of him dating Belle and flirting with her like he has been just doesn’t fit. It goes against everything she knows about him.

Until now, she never realised just how much she knows about him.

Victor is still flirting with Belle, oblivious to the daggers that Killian is glaring at the phone, and Emma has suddenly had enough. This wasn't part of the deal. “Okay,” she says, turning the phone so Victor’s looking at her. “I think I’d better go. Don’t want to keep you from your work, honey.”

“Always so considerate,” he drawls. “I’ll catch you later then, sweetcheeks.”

“Yeah.” She almost—almost—rolls her eyes, but that wouldn’t exactly help sell this relationship to her audience, so she manages a smile instead. “Bye.”

She ends the call. When she looks up, Killian is watching her with narrowed eyes, and Belle is still looking mortified. She seems to gather herself, and takes Killian’s hand. “I need to talk to you,” she says. “Excuse us a moment, Emma?”

“Uh, sure.” Emma stands there as they walk off together, feeling a little thunderstruck.

There’s no way. This is a ruse, the same thing she’s doing.

He’s not even Belle’s type.

“He seems very nice,” Ingrid says. Emma looks at her. She’s watching Killian and Belle walk off too, smiling. Emma clenches her fists. “You know him from fencing, he said?”

“What?” Emma forces her hand to relax. “Oh. Yeah. He’s, uh.” She can’t call him nice. Nice doesn’t even begin to describe Killian Jones. “He knows how to leave an impression.”

“I’ll say.” Ingrid turns her smile on Emma. “As does your Victor. I’m so glad I finally got to meet him.”

Emma can’t help hearing and confirm that he’s real behind the words.

And then her stomach lurches again, because… now Killian thinks she’s dating Victor. Meaning that pretty soon, David and Mary Margaret are going to think that she’s dating Victor. And probably August, and Ruby, and… crap. She’s going to have to confess before this goes any further. She can’t lie to her friends. This whole thing was never supposed to extend beyond work.

Which means she’s going to have to tell Killian that she essentially hired a guy to pretend to date her. Which is pathetic. She’s never going to live it down.

At least her colleagues are finally satisfied that Emma’s boyfriend is in fact real. She’s never liked work get-togethers; they always feel like an insincere waste of time. Hence the whole pretend-boyfriend thing. But at least the conversations don’t feel like a minefield tonight.

Eventually, she finds herself standing alone at the buffet table, and there’s a whisper of movement beside her as Killian joins her. “Swan.”

She feels her mouth twist. “Jones.”

He has opened the top two buttons of his shirt, his tie nowhere to be seen. Better, she thinks. More like himself.

“Enjoying your evening?” he asks, the picture of politeness as he takes a glass of champagne.

“Oh, yeah,” she says, unable to help the sarcasm. “You?”

His mouth quirks just before he takes a sip of his drink. “What’s not to love?”

“Uh-huh,” she says. “That why you agreed to come? You just love work parties?”

He looks momentarily taken aback, like he’s not quite sure what she’s getting at. “I came with Belle. Though, I wanted to—”

“You’re not dating her,” she says, and maybe she’s a little smug about it because she caught him out and that’s not easy to do.

He opens his mouth, closes it again. “Pardon?”

“You,” she says, poking him in the chest, “are not dating her. There’s no way.”

She expects him to deny it, to give her whatever story they came up with. But he lets out a sigh, bows his head, and looks up at her through his lashes. It’s the look he always gives her when he’s guilty and trying to persuade her to go easy on him, and she knows she’ll be in trouble if he ever figures out just how well it works.

“Guilty as charged, I’m afraid,” he says. “What gave it away?”

She shrugs. “You’re not her type. And there’s no way you wouldn’t have mentioned it before now.”

His eyes are sharp on hers. “You know me too well.” She can’t tell whether there’s something intimate in it, or whether that’s just wishful thinking.

She shrugs again. “I told you, I’m pretty good at knowing when people are lying.”

“I was going to tell you,” he says. “And in my defence, I didn’t know you’d be here. I had no idea you worked here too.”

“Right.” She never talks about work. She never talks about anything personal if she can help it.

“And speaking of things I didn’t know,” he says, and he sounds casual, but there’s something tense behind the words, “why have you never mentioned this man of yours? Victor, was it?”

“Oh.” Emma just about suppresses a wince. She should tell him. She has to tell him. It’s only fair. “Yeah. It’s, uh. Long story.”

“I’d love to hear it,” he says, and there’s a glint in his eyes that she recognises from practice. She was wrong. He’s not tense. The word is predatory. “I would love to know how you came to date a man who calls you ‘sweetcheeks’.”

She’s going to kill Victor. “That was—he doesn’t call me that.”

Killian raises his eyebrows. “I was there, love. I heard him.”

“Yeah, well, you call me—that.” Not the best comeback, in hindsight, but by then it’s too late to think of a better one.

He laughs, looking amused now. “If you prefer ‘sweetcheeks’, I can always—”

“No,” she cuts him off, annoyed.

She spots Walter and two of the other tech guys wandering over towards the buffet table, and hastily turns away. Killian follows her as she walks away from the table, with no aim other than avoiding people.

There’s no avoiding him, of course, not now that he’s smelled blood.

And she can’t even complain, because she started it.

“At first I thought I owed you an apology,” Killian says as he falls into step beside her, “for misreading the situation so badly and pursuing you when you were spoken for. But then, you never so much as mentioned the man, so how was I to know?”

Emma comes to a stop, staring at him. Pursuing? What does that mean? Pursuing implies catching, which implies… more than just idle flirtation. Right?

“And now,” Killian goes on, “having seen the man you’ve allegedly broken your golden rule for, I can’t help but think that either you’ve taken leave of your senses, or something else is going on here.”

That… sounds like something she should be offended by. “Excuse me? What rule?”

“The one about no relationships,” Killian says.

He’s right. She did say something about that. Once. Shortly after she met him.

And she did set that rule for herself, years ago, but… she almost forgot about it. It hasn’t seemed very important lately.

Weird.

(Not really that weird.)

“Oh,” she says. “That.”

“You’re not telling me that you, Miss Love Will Leave You Brokenhearted, broke that rule for him,” Killian says, his eyes narrowed as he studies her. That predatory gleam is back, the one he gets when he knows that something’s going on and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it. “I don’t know that I’ve ever met a more obvious candidate for breaking a woman’s heart.”

He’s right. He’s so right that it’s kind of scary. He’s got no business being that perceptive.

And what the hell did he mean by pursuing?

“I know,” she admits. “It’s—like I said. Long story.” She looks around to make sure nobody else is within earshot. “Kinda pretty much the same as Belle, I guess.”

“Ah.” It’s a long sound, and it seems to release the last bit of tension in his stance. He grins at her. “I had a feeling. It just seemed like too much of a coincidence.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” she says quickly. “Please.”

One eyebrow quirks up. “And what do I get for keeping your dirty little secret?”

She mirrors his expression, although she has to use both eyebrows. “Oh, blackmail, is it?”

“Don’t try to claim the moral high ground, love.” He looks like he’s enjoying himself now. “You want to make me, an honest man, party to your lies and deceptions. Surely that calls for some kind of recompense.”

“You’re already party to lies and deception,” she points out, “or have you forgotten why you’re here?”

“Belle has already promised me a favour in return.”

She is not going to ask what that favour involves. She is not. They’re clearly just friends. “Fine. What do you want?”

He considers. “I want you to give me a fair chance. If the answer is still no, that’s fine, but no treating it all as a joke or hiding behind the past.”

She feels her eyes widen. “A chance, as in… you and me?”

“Not a date or anything of the sort,” he says quickly. “I’m not going to blackmail you into that. I just mean… you always laugh it off. You don’t let yourself consider it.”

Right again. And if Emma is perfectly honest—something she can admit she struggles with—there have been times when she almost knew that he wasn’t just joking around. When she felt the maybe hovering between them. It’s just a lot easier to laugh it off than consider the possibility of… anything else.

But it’s Killian. She knows him—better than she even realised. She’s been right about him every single time so far.

“Like I said, if the answer’s still no, I’ll accept it,” Killian says, and she knows that he means it. “And you have my word that I won’t bring it up again.”

“No, that’s—” Emma shakes her head. “I mean, yeah. Okay. Deal.”

He beams at her.

* * *

He smiles more widely still just over a week later, when she ends their last training session before Christmas by asking him out.

(Once he's recovered from his shock, that is.)

* * *

Tag list (shh I didn't forget again) - @optomisticgirl @mariakov81 @courtorderedcake @tomeandflickcorner @spartanguard @snowbellewells @karl0ta @heavenlyjoycastle @queen-serena88 @stahlop @inkerii @bubblegum1425 @elegies @winterbaby89 @kday426 @sals86 @superchocovian @pirateherokillian @laschatzi @scientificapricot @kmomof4 @thisonesatellite @ilovemesomekillianjones @last-tsarina @thesschesthair @the-darkdragonfly

#cs ff #ouat ff #cs one-shot #cs crew #merry christmas etc #modern au #cs au #captain swan #captain swan fanfic #cs fanfic #ouat fanfic #fanfic #mine

[jrob64]

Blow Me Away (A CS Modern AU One-shot)

Happy birthday @apiratewhopines​! It’s a week late, but I hope it was worth the wait! Thank you to all of you who have already shown interest in this story.

After having a discussion with Beth about what it would be like to see Killian Jones as a glassblower in a hot shop, I was determined to write a story about it for her. It includes a short guest appearance by one of her favorite characters, Marco, and something else at the end that she always loves for me to write. Oh, and see if you can recognize the quotes from my favorite CS scene ever!

Please forgive any errors in describing the glassblowing tools and process. Like Emma, all I know about it comes from YouTube videos and the Netflix competition show Blown Away. If you have an interest in glassblowing, I highly recommend watching that show!

Special thanks to @cs-rylie​​ for her encouragement and help with plotting, and to the lovely @hookedmom​​, who cleaned up my messes as usual.

Story Summary: For her birthday, Emma Swan's friends give her lessons for glassblowing, something she has always wanted to do. Once she meets her instructor, Killian Jones, both of them feel the heat from more than just the furnaces in the hot shop.  

Rating: M (for smut)

Words: 12,929

Also accessible on ffn and Ao3

*********

“Happy birthday, Emma!” Elsa, Ruby and Ashley shouted, then broke into the birthday song as Mary Margaret brought the cake in from the kitchen.

Emma Swan smiled broadly at her small group of friends, trying to convey her appreciation to each one of them. Growing up, she rarely had friends. Being in the foster care system meant she lived a transient life, not giving her many opportunities to develop close relationships. Now, at twenty-eight, she was finally putting down roots in the scenic little town of Storybrooke, Maine.

Her best friend Mary Margaret Blanchard brought Emma to her hometown after they both graduated from a culinary academy in Boston. Soon after settling there, Emma and Mary Margaret made their dream of owning a bakery together a reality, naming it Fairytale Confections. Emma handled the duties of working the counter, custom designing the cakes and decorating them, while Mary Margaret took the orders and did the baking. Since neither of them were interested in taking care of the accounting, they hired Mary Margaret’s friend, Elsa Arendelle, who also did the finances for her aunt’s ice cream shop, Any Given Sundae, located beside the bakery.

Mary Margaret introduced Emma to her other childhood friends, Ashley Boyd and Ruby Lucas, too. The group of friends welcomed Emma into their circle with open arms. Ashley was the housekeeper for the only hotel in Storybrooke, owned by Ruby’s grandmother. Granny also owned the town diner where Ruby worked as a waitress. When the bakery opened, she convinced Granny to buy baked goods for the diner from her friends.

It took Emma a while to get used to being part of a close-knit group, but after more than five years, she was very comfortable in their midst. The surprise birthday party was at Elsa’s house and it warmed Emma’s heart to see how much planning they put into it. A large, hand painted banner that stretched across the archway between the kitchen and living room announced ‘Happy 28th Birthday, Emma!’, streamers and balloons hung from the ceiling, and Emma’s favorite Rocky Road ice cream, bought from the ice cream shop, waited in the freezer. The birthday cake had been secretly baked by Mary Margaret and resembled Emma’s beloved yellow Volkswagen.

“You guys didn’t have to do all of this,” Emma declared, as she had done every year they gave her a party, though secretly she loved each one. The only other birthday party she’d ever had before coming to Storybrooke was at one of her foster homes when the mother’s birthday was two days after Emma’s, so they had a party for both of them at the same time.

“Of course we did!” Mary Margaret chirped as Ruby lit the candles on the cake. “You deserve special treatment on your birthday. Now, make a wish and blow out the candles.”

Emma swept her eyes around her group of friends, lingering on each of them for a few moments. She could feel herself getting a little emotional and was relieved when they all started inciting her to hurry.

“We’re not getting any younger here,” Ashley teased.

“Blow them out already!” Ruby chimed in, while Mary Margaret encouraged, “Close your eyes and make a wish.”

Emma smiled so hard, her face began to ache. “I don’t think I need to wish for anything,” she said.

“Sure you do,” Ruby grinned. “You need a big, hunky, stud of a man in your life!”

Emma folded her arms and fixed her with a glare. “I do NOT need a man. I’m perfectly happy without one.”

“Happy, but unsatisfied,” Ruby remarked, her grin growing even wider.

“You two can argue later,” Elsa interjected. “The candles are going to melt all over the cake if you don’t blow them out soon.”

Emma nodded, closed her eyes briefly, then opened them and extinguished all but three of the twenty-eight candles with one blow. Her friends clapped and cheered as she blew out the remaining candles and straightened up, beaming at them.

Ashley retrieved the ice cream from the freezer and began scooping it out onto the Autumn themed cake plates, while Mary Margaret cut the cake into generous pieces and added them to the plates. The tight circle of friends talked and laughed, enjoying the cake and ice cream at the small dining room table. They expounded on Ruby’s suggestion to wish for a hunky man by naming off the list of single men in Storybrooke.

Emma accepted it all good-naturedly until Mary Margaret mentioned Leroy, the grumpy town handyman. “Really? How desperate do you think I am?” she groaned.

“He seems gruff, but he’s just a big, old softy,” Mary Margaret said.

“Not gonna happen,” Emma assured her emphatically, while her friends laughed.

When they finished eating, Emma sat back in her chair, rubbing her belly and licking the last of the yellow icing off of her lips. “That was delicious, Marg,” she praised, using her favorite nickname for her friend. “And Sarah’s Rocky Road is always the best, Els.”

“I know,” Elsa sighed. “Having easy access to ice cream is nice, but it’s also very fattening.” She patted her jean clad thighs for emphasis.

“Oh, like you need to worry about that,” Ashley scoffed. “I’m still trying to get the last ten pounds of baby weight off and Alexandra is almost four months old.”

“You look great. We can’t even tell you had a baby,” Elsa said, while Emma, Mary Margaret and Ruby nodded their agreement.

“Tell my stretch marks that,” Ashley groaned.

“Time for presents!” Mary Margaret redirected, rising from her seat.

“Actually, it’s just a present,” Ruby corrected. “We all went together and got you one big gift.”

Mary Margaret set a small box wrapped in orange paper with a yellow bow in front of Emma, then sat back down and clasped her hands in anticipation. “Oh, I really hope you like it!”

Emma picked it up, surprised at how light it felt, and pulled the bow off the top. “I’m sure I will.” Carefully removing the shiny, foil paper, she found a white box that looked like it could contain a necktie. Upon lifting the lid, she discovered a plain white envelope. “Did you guys give me a million dollars?” she joked, taking the envelope out of the box and beginning to lift the flap.

“In your dreams,” Ruby smirked.

Emma laughed as she finished opening the envelope and drew out the gift certificate tucked inside. Reading it, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

“Do you like it?” Elsa asked anxiously.

“You…you bought me glassblowing lessons?” Emma managed to ask through her shock and surprise.

“Yeah, Marg went online and found a guy in Portland who offers them at his glass shop,” Ashley explained.

“I know you’ve always been interested in it,” Mary Margaret added.

“And you’re like, obsessed with that Blown Away show on Netflix,” Ruby threw in.

“So, do you like it?” Elsa asked again.

“Are you kidding? I LOVE it!” Emma exclaimed.

Ruby pointed to the corner of the certificate. “We paid for ten lessons. By that time, you should be an expert and will be making glass sculptures like Dale Chihuly!”

Emma gaped at her. “I didn’t even realize you knew who he is or the name of the show!”

“Yeah, well, maybe you’ll start giving me credit for paying attention to my friend’s interests now,” Ruby snarked.

Giving her the side-eye, Emma said, “I thought you only paid attention to my interest in men.”

“Now you know I’m not one-dimensional,” Ruby shot back good-naturedly.

“All you have to do,” Elsa broke in, “is call the number on the certificate to set up the lessons. The instructor’s name is Killian Jones.”

“Killian? That’s an unusual name,” Emma commented.

“I know, right?” Ashley said. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone with that name.”

“He sounds hot,” Ruby smirked.

“Of course he’s hot. He blows glass in a hot shop around furnaces all day,” Emma snickered.

Ruby clicked her tongue. “You know what I mean, Emma Swan. He’ll probably be shirtless and glistening with sweat…”

“Please don’t turn this gift into one of your perverted fantasies,” Mary Margaret chastised.

“The man named his shop ‘Blow Me Away’. It literally has blow me in the name. Besides, it’s not my fantasy, it’s Emma���s,” Ruby pointed out.

Emma rolled her eyes. “It’s definitely not mine. I don’t care what the instructor looks like, I’m just really excited to get started with these lessons!”

*********

Bright and early Monday morning, Emma put a call through to Killian Jones. She was prepared to set up her first lesson, but was not prepared for the deep, accented voice on the other end of the phone.

“Blow Me Away, Killian Jones at your service.”

Emma gulped. “E-excuse me?” she stuttered, then facepalmed as she remembered ‘Blow Me Away’ was the name of the glass shop. “Uh…I mean…hi. My name is Emma Swan and um, my…my friends gave me glassblowing lessons for my birthday and I just called to, um…I wanted to…”

“To schedule those lessons, lass?” Killian asked, his voice tinged with humor.

She blew out a frustrated breath. “Yeah. Sorry about that, I just…I wasn’t expecting you to be British.”

He chuckled. “I do hope that isn’t a problem.”

“Oh, no. Not at all,” she assured him.

“That’s good to know, Ms. Swan.”

“Miss,” she spat out quickly, then amended herself, “I mean, Emma. You can call me Emma.”

“Very well, Emma. Now, when were you thinking about beginning your lessons?”

The way her name sounded rolling off his tongue rendered her momentarily tongue-tied again. “Uh…wh-when is a good time for you?”

“I’m here every day, so it’s really your schedule we should work around. Do you live in Portland?”

“No, I live in a little town called Storybrooke. You’ve probably never heard of it.”

“On the contrary, I’ve sailed into the harbor there a few times. It’s a lovely place.”

“It really is. I love it. My friend Mary Margaret and I own a bakery here. She’s the one who found your shop online and ordered the gift certificate for lessons.”

“The next time I go to Storybrooke, I shall have to find your bakery to appease my sweet tooth,” Killian said.

Emma smiled at his vocabulary. The man sounded like he just stepped out of the 1800’s. “You should. It’s called Fairytale Confections and it’s right beside the ice cream shop.”

He groaned, the sound of which caused her stomach to do a little flip. “Ice cream and cake. That’s truly not fair.”

“Sorry,” she laughed. “Anyway, I sort of sidetracked the conversation, Mr. Jones”

“If I’m to call you Emma, please call me Killian.”

“Okay, Killian. As far as the time, I’m free most evenings and all day Sunday when the bakery is closed, but you’re probably not open then.”

“Lesson times are flexible, so I would be more than happy to give them on Sundays, if that works for you.”

“Okay, great!”

“How many lessons were you given?”

“Ten.”

“In that case, would you be amenable to having two lessons a week? Otherwise, they’ll run into the holidays when I’ll be in England for a few weeks to visit my brother and his family.”

“Sure. The bakery closes at two on Wednesdays, so maybe later in the afternoon?”

“Would four o’clock work for you?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “What time on Sunday?”

“You call it, Swan,” he said.

“How about one o’clock, Jones?” she replied cheekily.

There was a pause on the other end before he spoke again. “My apologies, Emma. I’m used to calling my assistants by their last name since three of the four are named Joe, including one who is a woman.”

She laughed lightly. “I was just teasing. I really don’t mind at all.”

“To answer your question, one o’clock on Sunday would be fine. Is this Wednesday too soon to start?”

“No, that’s perfect. I’m very excited to learn the art of glassblowing. It has always intrigued me.”

“Very good. Do you have the address of my shop?”

Emma looked at the paper in front of her again. “Yeah, it’s on the gift certificate. So I guess I’ll see you Wednesday at four.”

“Aye, see you then, lass.”

Emma ended the call and sat looking at her phone with a dreamy smile on her face. She would never admit it, but if his voice was anything to go by, she might have to agree with Ruby’s assessment that he was hot, in more ways than one.

*********

As she drove to Portland Wednesday afternoon, Emma worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She was excited but also nervous, not only about learning something new, but also about meeting the man behind the sexy voice. She had actually dreamed about him the night after their conversation on the phone, as if her subconscious was trying to put a face with the voice that was still echoing in her ears.

Parking her bug in front of the warehouse her GPS declared was her destination, she drew in a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. Then she grabbed the gift certificate off the seat, flung her car door open and stepped out.

She approached the building and pulled open the creaky metal door, looking around as she entered, but not seeing Killian Jones. Smiling at the glassblowing equipment spread around the large space, she mentally named things she recognized from watching the Netflix show and numerous YouTube videos.

Turning her attention to several blown glass pieces sitting on a table beside the door, she carefully picked them up one-by-one to study them.

“You must be Emma Swan.”

The words spoken close behind her startled her so much, she almost dropped the beautiful aqua colored bowl she was holding. Letting out a gasp, she quickly set it back on the table and turned around, saying, “Oh, I didn’t know you were…”

Her words trailed off as she got a look at her instructor. Her first thought was that her dream of him didn’t do him justice, and her second was that his looks certainly equaled the sexiness of his voice. He appeared to be about her age, was a few inches taller than her, with dark, disheveled hair, a strong, scruff-covered jaw, piercing blue eyes and a gleaming white smile. His hands grasped both ends of a towel slung around his neck, making his biceps bulge under the sleeves of his tight, white T-shirt, the V-neck allowing her to see dark hair peeking out.

While he waited for her to speak again, he used the end of the towel to wipe away the sweat on his forehead. A few strands of hair flopped down over it once he finished and her hand inadvertently reached forward, intending to brush them away. Suddenly realizing what she was doing, she jerked her hand back and ran it through her own long, blonde hair instead.

He looked at her with his head cocked and a raised eyebrow, his roguish grin convincing her he knew the effect he was having on her. She cleared her throat and said, “Uh, yeah. I’m Emma.” Holding out her hand, she added, “It’s nice to meet you, Killian.”

He took her hand, squeezing it lightly as he shook it. “Likewise. Have you been waiting long?”

“Not at all. I just got here and was admiring your work,” she said, sweeping her arm toward the glass works on the table. “They’re very good.”

“Thank you,” he replied with a smile. “Hopefully, by the end of your lessons, you’ll be able to make some nice pieces, too.”

“That would be great!” she said, her voice bubbling with excitement.

“Shall we get started?” he asked.

“Oh, do you need this?” She held out the crumpled gift certificate.

“Aye,” he said, taking the paper, folding it and sticking it in his back pocket. Then he gestured for her to go ahead of him.

“You didn’t check it. Are you just gonna take my word for it that it’s worth ten lessons?” she asked teasingly.

“Well, you haven’t lied to me thus far.”

She turned to look at him over her shoulder and saw the smirk on his face. She was enjoying the banter with him and already felt at ease.

Touching her on the shoulder, he stopped her in front of a large furnace. “How much do you already know about the art of glassblowing, Emma?”

“Well…I’ve watched every season of Blown Away on Netflix and quite a few YouTube videos. Does that count?” she asked, with a hint of embarrassment.

“Of course it does. I’ve watched them myself. Let’s see if you can identify some of the tools of the trade.”

As he led her around the shop, she was able to name many things he pointed out, such as the furnace containing the molten glass, the glory hole, where glass in the process of being blown was reheated, and the annealer, in which glass projects were placed to cool slowly.

He also asked her questions about the process of glassblowing to get an idea of what she knew and didn’t know. She impressed him again when she talked about gathering the glass with a blowpipe, rolling it on the steel marver table and rolling it in ground glass called frit to give it color. In addition, she correctly identified the majority of the tools he had laid out on the bench.

“You obviously know most of the important terms and equipment already, Swan,” he praised when they finished the tour. “Now you just have to actually do some glassblowing yourself. Are you ready?”

“Absolutely!” she answered.

Killian handed her a pair of safety goggles, then he demonstrated the procedure, calling on her to help him from time to time.

“That’s the basic process,” he said when he finished. “How would you like to try it for yourself?”

“Really? You think I could do that already?” She was nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet with anticipation.

“Of course, and I’ll be here to guide you. First, choose a color of frit and then I’ll help you do your first gather.”

She went over to the table to look over the color selection and chose green.

“Excellent choice. Go ahead and pick up your blowpipe.”

She did as directed and went to stand beside him in front of the furnace.

“Now, I’m going to open the door and then I’ll help you, okay?” he asked.

Emma nodded and held the pipe the same way he held it during his demonstration. He slid the door to the left a few inches then stood behind her to guide her hands. “Place it on the bottom edge of the door and start turning it clockwise,” he directed. When she did, he put his right hand behind hers on the pipe, helping her slide it into the molten glass. “Keep turning. That’s good. Start pulling it back, but don’t stop turning.”

With him standing so close, she felt heat that she knew was from more than the furnace. Between his looks, his voice, the way he listened to her, and how he made her feel important, he had an unmistakable effect on her.

When she had the blowpipe clear of the furnace, she was excited to see the blob of orange at the end of it. “I did it!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, you did,” he agreed, closing the furnace door. “Now, roll it on the marver and then in the frit.” Reaching around her, he adjusted her hands on the pipe, surrounding her with his presence, though she could tell he was being careful to leave space between their bodies.

He patiently walked her through the entire procedure until she created a perfectly round orb and placed it in the annealer.

“Unfortunately, it takes about four hours for it to cool down completely, so you won’t be able to take it with you today,” he informed her.

“That’s okay. I’ll get it on Sunday when I come back for my next lesson.”

“I’m very happy to hear you’ll be back. I was hoping you would enjoy it enough to want to continue all of your lessons.”

She beamed at him. “It was incredible! I can hardly wait until next time. What will we make on Sunday?”

He grinned at her enthusiasm. “Perhaps you’d like to try making a paperweight or a Christmas tree ornament?”

“Either one sounds good to me!”

Glancing up at the clock on the wall, she remarked, “I didn’t realize what time it was. I probably stayed past my allotted lesson time, didn’t I?”

“I don’t set a length of time for my lessons,” he assured her. “I’d rather just go with the flow of it, than to cut it off when we reach a certain point in time. I’ve really enjoyed working with you today, Emma. You catch on very quickly and appear to be a natural.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re a great teacher.”

He rewarded her with one of his smiles that made her feel a bit weak in the knees. “Perhaps it’s both.”

“Well, thank you again, Killian. I’ll see you Sunday.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

She started to walk toward the door, but suddenly thought of something. Turning to face him again she said, “Hey, if you wouldn’t mind, could you take a picture of my project and send it to me once it’s out of the annealer? I want to show my friends that I actually made something today and I’d like to have proof.”

“Of course,” he replied. “Could you put your number into my phone? The one you called to set up the lessons was for the phone in the office.”

He pulled his device out of his back pocket, unlocked it, pulled up his contacts and handed it to her. Once she finished, and handed it back to him, he took a look at it. “Swan, huh?” he smirked.

“I told you I didn’t mind you calling me by my last name. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to confuse me with another Emma.”

He nodded as he tucked the phone back into his pocket. “Drive safely, Swan.”

Throwing him one more smile, she turned and walked out of the building.

*********

Killian stared at the exit long after Emma left, not really seeing the metal door with the chipped paint, but remembering the lovely woman who just walked through it. After hearing her voice on the phone, he had spent more time than he would like to admit trying to imagine what she looked like, but no image that flitted through his mind the past few days could compare to her actual beauty.

He was glad it took her a while to gather her thoughts when she first laid eyes on him, because his first glimpse of her left him a bit speechless, too. Spending nearly two hours with her only made her more attractive to him. She was witty, easy to talk to, and a fast learner. When he stood close to help guide her, it was very tempting to move even closer, but he restrained himself. He didn’t want to offend her or make her uncomfortable in any way. For all he knew, she could have a boyfriend.

That possibility didn’t keep him from admiring her, though. After she chose the color of frit for her project, he couldn’t help thinking how it would perfectly match her beautiful eyes. He almost told her so, but decided to keep the comment to himself, unsure of how she would accept it. The memory of those eyes sparkling with excitement was going to remain with him in the coming days.

Taking out his phone again, he looked down at her contact info with a smile, thinking about her last statement. He didn’t think there was a chance he would confuse her with any other Emma. She was definitely one-of-a-kind.

He traced his finger over her name on the screen, then locked the phone and stuck it in his pocket, before turning to go back into the shop. He could hardly wait until Sunday.

*********

“How was your first lesson?” Mary Margaret eagerly asked as soon as Emma answered her phone. She had just walked through the door of her small loft apartment and marveled at the innate sense of timing her friend seemed to possess.

“It was great! I loved it, and already learned a lot. I made something, but I had to leave it in the cooling oven, so Killian said he would send a picture of it to me when it comes out. I’ll send it to you once I get it.”

“Okay. Tell me about Killian! He must be a good teacher if you already learned a lot. How old is he? Is he nice? What does he look like? ”

There was a brief silence after she finished asking her questions. “Are you done?” Emma laughed.

“I’m sure I’ll think of more later, but that’s all I have for now,” Mary Margaret replied, humor coloring her voice.

“Okay, let me see. Yes, he’s a very good teacher. He explained everything while he demonstrated the process and then guided me through it when I did it myself. I’m not sure how old he is, but I would estimate him to be around my age. And he is very nice. He put me at ease right away.”

“And…” Mary Margaret prodded.

“And what?” Emma asked innocently.

“Answer the last question.”

“What question was that?”

Mary Margaret heaved a sigh. “Seriously, Emma?”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” Emma snickered. “He…he’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, Marg. Dark hair, scruff, dimples and the bluest eyes you can imagine.”

“So Ruby was right! He is hot!”

“Hot and sexy,” Emma confirmed. “But I really don’t look forward to Ruby finding that out.”

Mary Margaret laughed. “I don’t blame you! She more than likely won’t let you alone until the two of you are married!”

“Oh, god,” Emma groaned. “Maybe she’ll forget I had my first lesson today.”

“Fat chance,” Mary Margaret giggled.

As if to prove her point, Emma’s phone buzzed with a text. Glancing at the screen, she groaned even louder. “Just got a text from her that says ‘How was your lesson with Mr. Hottie?’ How long do you suppose I can ignore it before I answer?”

“If you don’t answer, she’ll be pounding on your door very soon.”

“Ugh, fine. I’ve gotta go. I’ll send you the picture as soon as I get it.”

“Good luck. I’ll be listening for her scream when she finds out Killian is good looking.”

“I think I’ll just tell her he’s old and ugly.”

“You really think that will work?”

“Of course not. She should have been a police detective with her knack for interrogating people and making them confess,” Emma sighed. “Talk to you later, Marg.”

As soon as she ended the call, she responded to Ruby’s text.

E: The lesson was great.

R: Details.

E: I made a green glass ball.

R: More details.

E: It was fun!

R: You’re testing my patience.

E: I learned how to use the glory hole.

R: Glory hole? Now we’re talking. Were you horizontal or vertical at the time?

E: It’s a glassblowing term - an oven where you reheat the glass.

R: Whatever you say. Tell me about Killian.

E: He’s a good teacher.

R: What did he teach you? The Horizontal Mambo?

E: Ruby!

R: Ugh, fine! Is he hot?

E: Well, the furnaces are close to 2000 degrees, so it’s hard not to be hot.

R: If you don’t give me a direct answer Emma Swan, I’m coming over there to drag it out of you!

E: He’s very handsome.

R: I knew it! Did you ask him out?

E: Of course not!

R: But you are seeing him again, right?

E: Did you forget you gave me 10 lessons? I’ll see him at least 9 more times.

R: When is the next one?

E: Sunday afternoon.

R: Then you have a few days to plan how to ask him out.

E: You’re impossible.

R: And you love me for it. (smiley emoji)

E: I don’t know about that, but I do love you, Rubes.

R: I know. I’m adorable.

E: (rolling eyes emoji) I’ll send you a pic of what I made today when Killian sends it to me. It had to cool down so I wasn’t able to bring it home with me.

R: Ooh! He has your phone number and you have his! Finally, a step in the right direction! You now have the ability to send him sexy photos!

E: Ugh! I’ve gotta go, Ruby. Talk to you later.

R: Alright. Go daydream about your man.

*********

When Emma entered the glass shop on Sunday afternoon, she saw Killian sitting on one of the benches, speaking to an older man with a fringe of white hair around his otherwise bald head. Curious, she quickly strode across the concrete floor to where the two men were sitting.

Killian looked up as she approached and stood to greet her. “Hello, Emma. How are you today?”

“I’m good, thanks,” she replied, her eyes flicking over to the other gentleman, who was looking at her with a broad smile and twinkling eyes.

“I’d like to introduce you to someone,” Killian said, leading her over to where the man was now standing. “This is Marco Pinetti. He taught me everything I know about glassblowing. Marco, this is my newest student, Emma Swan.”

“Ah, yes, Miss Swan. Killian has told me about you and your potential to be an excellent glassblower,” Marco said, taking Emma’s hand warmly between both of his.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pinetti,” Emma said sincerely.

“Mr. Pinetti makes me sound like an old man! Please call me Marco.”

She chuckled. “Okay, but only if you call me Emma.”

“Marco stopped in to visit and I asked him to stay to watch your lesson, if you don’t mind,” Killian said.

“That’s fine,” she replied, then turned toward Marco again. “Please just remember this is only my second one.”

Marco patted her on the shoulder. “We all have to begin somewhere, my dear, but from what Killian has told me, you catch on very quickly.”

She glanced at Killian and saw the proud smile on his face. Her face heating from the blush creeping into it, she said, “I’m ready whenever you are.”

As the lesson went along, Killian was just as attentive and helpful as he was the first time. Marco ended up staying for the entire two hours, and by the end, she had a multicolor paperweight and a Christmas ornament cooling in the annealer.

“Do you have any advice for her, Marco?” Killian asked.

The older man scratched at his beard in thought. “Follow your instincts and don’t be afraid of making a mistake. Glass is fragile, yes, but pieces can always be remade. Experiment with it and have fun.”

Killian was nodding his agreement, while Emma soaked in the master glassblower’s words.

“Killian was right - you are a quick study,” Marco went on. “You have a knack for the art and I’m very happy you’re pursuing it.”

“Thank you, Marco,” Emma beamed, while Killian looked at her with pride.

*********

The next month passed in a blur and far too soon, Emma was having her final lesson with Killian. She not only learned a great deal about the techniques of glassblowing, but had gotten to know her instructor much better, too. She really liked him, and was pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

It was all she could do to keep her hands off of him during their lessons. There was just something so enticing about watching him manipulate the glass, the muscles of his arms flexing with a light sheen of perspiration covering them. His knowledge, expertise and the easy way he explained things were also attractive qualities to her.

They texted one another daily. At first, it was just about the lessons, but eventually, they began sharing personal information with each other, discovering that they had many common interests.

When her final project, a plate with swirls of color, was put into the annealer, Killian turned to face Emma. “You have been a pleasure to teach, Swan. I’ve never taught anyone with more natural ability.”

Emma dragged the back of her wrist across her forehead to wipe away the sweat, but also to hide her blush at his praise. “Thank you, Killian, but I think it was because of your teaching that I learned so quickly.”

Killian scratched at a spot behind his ear, dropping his eyes to the floor. “It’s also been very nice getting to know you. I’m going to miss our time together.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, “but just because my lessons are over, doesn’t mean we can’t still text each other.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t,” he grinned. “I, uh, I was wondering if you might like to go get something to eat while you’re waiting for the plate to cool. That way, you won’t have to make another trip into Portland to pick it up.”

She answered with a smile. “I’d really like that.”

They spent the next three hours enjoying each other’s company at Killian’s favorite diner on the outskirts of Portland. When Emma finally checked her phone, she couldn’t believe how much time had passed. She usually had trouble carrying on long conversations with most people, but it was easy with Killian.

“I guess we should go back to the shop so I can pick up my project and get on the road,” she said reluctantly.

He drained the last of the water in his glass. “I suppose it is about that time.”

He paid the bill, after insisting it was his treat, and they both got into his SUV. Emma found a radio station playing Christmas music and sang one song after another all the way back to the shop, Killian joining her after the first song. Once they arrived, she collected her project and carefully set it on the floor of the passenger side in her car, tucking a blanket around it, before turning back to him.

“Well, this is it,” she said with a sigh.

“It, uh, it doesn’t have to be,” he said, stepping closer to her. “You’re welcome to come blow glass with me anytime, Swan.”

Emma grinned, thinking about how Ruby would twist his words to become something dirty if she was here. “You’re right. I can always buy more lessons.”

He reached out to take her hands. “You wouldn’t have to buy them. I thoroughly enjoy working with you and I’m telling you the truth when I say you show a lot of talent. Please consider this an open invitation to come here any chance you get.”

“Thanks, I would really like that,” she assured him.

They stood with their hands still linked for several moments, until Killian broke the brief silence. “Emma, I…I would like to see you again…I mean, besides you coming to the shop. Would you be interested in going out with me?”

She answered without hesitation, “Yes, Killian. I would be very interested!”

His grin stretched across his face. “Fantastic! Will Wednesday still work for you?”

“Absolutely! I’ve been sure not to schedule anything on Wednesday evenings, so that will work just fine.”

“Wednesday it is, then,” he said, giving her hands a squeeze. “I know of a place just outside of town that has a drive-through Christmas light display. Perhaps we can take it in after we have dinner together?”

“That sounds perfect. Do you want me to drive over here?”

“No, lass. It would be bad form to make you drive here and back by yourself. Please allow me to pick you up at your place.”

“That’s very gentlemanly of you.”

“I’m always a gentleman.”

“I’ve noticed,” she said softly. “I’ll text you my address.” Pulling her hands out of his, she ran them up his arms to rest on his shoulders. Gazing into his eyes, she saw the same desire she was feeling herself and pushed herself up to her toes to meet his lips with her own.

She felt his quick intake of breath and nearly pulled away, thinking she was being too forward, but in the next second, he responded by sliding his lips against hers. As her arms wrapped around his neck, his encircled her waist and pulled her closer.

Emma didn’t make a habit of kissing men. In her experience, she found most of them to be forceful and controlling with their kisses, not caring if it was enjoyable for her. Killian’s kiss shattered all of her qualms as he let her set the pace, gently caressing her lips instead of crushing them.

He lightly teased the seam of her lips with his tongue and she allowed him entrance. His hands spread across her back, holding her firmly but tenderly, and she sighed with contentment.

Resting her forehead against his when they separated, she licked her lips and smiled. “I hope you didn’t mind me doing that.”

His chuckle rumbled in his throat. “In case you didn’t notice, Love, I most assuredly did not mind. I've wanted to kiss you since the first day we met.”

She pulled away and looked at him with wide eyes. “Really?”

  He nodded slowly without breaking eye contact. “Aye.”

“In that case…” she said, before initiating another leisurely kiss, enjoying the feel of his hands moving up her back and into her hair. Using them to tilt her head, he deepened the kiss, but kept it soft and undemanding.

This time when the kiss ended, she forced herself to step back. “I, um, I guess I should go.”

“I…” he started, his voice a bit shaky. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “I suppose so. I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Emma said smiling, before turning to move to the other side of her car.

Killian hurried around to open her door, responding to her appreciative smile with a flirtatious smirk. After she settled into her seat and fastened her seatbelt, he leaned in to brush his lips across hers one more time, then closed the door and tapped his knuckles against the window. She started the engine, shifted into gear and gave him a little wave.

Before she pulled out onto the street, she looked in her rearview mirror to see him rubbing his fingers over his lips with a slightly dazed look on his face.

*********

After Emma’s yellow bug disappeared, Killian stood in the parking lot for several minutes, lost in thought. He had been truthful when he told her he wanted to kiss her since that first day she walked into his shop, but to have her initiate it was a very welcome surprise.

He rubbed his fingers against his lips, wanting to hold onto the feeling of kissing Emma Swan for as long as possible. He’d had many first kisses, but he was hoping this would be his last first kiss. He was completely under her spell, and found he didn’t mind at all.

*********

Their date on Wednesday lacked all of the usual first date awkwardness as they shared easy conversation and genuine laughter throughout the evening. At the end of the date, after another languid kiss at Emma’s door, neither of them wanted to say goodnight. He finally tore himself away once they decided to go out again on Saturday.

They enjoyed four more dates before Killian went to England to visit his brother, promising to stay in touch with her during the weeks he was gone. Emma was disappointed they couldn’t spend the holidays together, but saw how much he was looking forward to being with his family after months of being separated, and was happy for him. The night before he left, she kissed him sweetly and told him to have a wonderful time, determined not to be one of those girlfriends who got weepy over saying goodbye. Just thinking of herself as Killian’s girlfriend made her smile and she knew no matter how long he was gone, she would be there waiting for him when he returned.

*********

“I found her,” Killian told his brother Liam when he picked him up at the airport.

“Found who?” Liam questioned, looking over his shoulder before changing lanes.

“Her. The one. The woman I want to be with for the rest of my life.”

Liam glanced over at his brother. “Are you being serious?”

“Aye, very much so,” Killian said. “Her name is Emma Swan and I met her when she was given glassblowing lessons with me for her birthday. She’s…a bloody goddess, Liam. I think I’m in love with her.”

“When did you meet?”

“Six weeks ago.”

“And you’re already saying you’re in love and want to spend the rest of your life with her?” Liam asked skeptically.

“You of all people should understand, brother. I remember you coming home after seeing Belle at Uni, telling me you met the woman of your dreams.”

“That’s true, and I wasn’t wrong, was I?”

“No, she’s the love of your life, and I think Emma may be mine.”

A smile spread over Liam’s face. “I’m very happy to hear it, Killian, and I’m sure Belle will be, too.”

Killian grinned and settled back into his seat for the rest of the ride to Liam’s house.

*********

“It’s your turn to open a present,” Emma declared, handing one to Ashley. “I had your name this year.”

The friends were gathered at the house Mary Margaret shared with her boyfriend, David, on the Sunday before Christmas. They had a tradition of drawing names for gifts, then exchanging them after making dozens of Christmas cookies. Now, the pizza they ordered was eaten and they were all a little tipsy on the margaritas Mary Margaret kept mixing up.

Ashley tore the paper off the box, lifted the lid and let out a squeal of excitement over the scented bath beads, bottles of her favorite lotion and a gift certificate for three massages. “I love it! Thank you, Em!”

“I figured you could use some pampering - being a wife and mother, and working full time.”

“Definitely. The closest I get to pampering these days is putting a new Pampers diaper on Alexandra!”

Her friends burst into laughter over her statement, then Ruby stood up to collect her gift from under the tree. Emma looked up when she stopped in front of her and held it out. “I got your name, you lucky dog.”

Emma bit her lip. “Am I going to like it?” She knew her friend had a penchant for giving slightly outrageous gifts. The year before, she had given Mary Margaret some racy lingerie that made her blush madly when she opened it, along with a very nice electric tea kettle.

“Of course you are! I mean, I couldn’t wrap Mr. Hottie and give him to you, which was my original plan, but I’m sure you’ll still like it,” she said, with a toothy grin.

Taking a deep breath, Emma removed the wrapping paper from the large box. When she opened the flaps, she found a body pillow with a photo of Killian on it. Her jaw dropped and she could feel her cheeks growing warm.

“Now you can sleep with him every night, at least until he gets back home. Then you can sleep with the real thing!” Ruby crowed.

“Where…how…how did you even get a picture of him?” Emma asked, still a bit stunned. “This looks like the one I took at the airport before he left.”

“It is! You should know better than to leave your phone unattended around me,” Ruby cackled. “So…do you like it?”

Emma stood and held the pillow up in front of her to get a better look at it. She had to admit it was a thoughtful gift, and having a tangible reminder of her boyfriend in her bed every night was quite appealing. Looking over at her friend, she said sincerely, “Yeah, I do, Rubes. It’s really great! Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, there’s something else in the box.”

Emma sat back down and looked in the box, then covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

“What is it?” Elsa questioned. All of her friends stood up to get a better look.

Ruby reached into the box and held the box of thirty-six condoms aloft. “I thought I would get you a week’s supply!” she laughed.

*********

Killian was really enjoying the time with Liam, Belle and their children, Adrian and Elizabeth, but he was also missing Emma more every day. They called, texted or FaceTimed regularly and it got harder and harder to say goodbye at the end of their conversations.

Three days after Christmas, once everyone else was in bed, the brothers were sitting in the lounge, sipping rum in front of a crackling fire. Liam observed his brother staring into the flames and could tell his mind was far away. “You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?” he asked.

Killian startled a bit, then sheepishly grinned before raising his glass to his lips. “Aye, is it that obvious?”

“I can always tell when you get that dreamy look on your face. You look like a love sick puppy.”

“Just how many love sick puppies have you ever seen in your life, Liam?” Killian deflected.

“Enough to know you look like one,” Liam snarked. “You’ve got it bad, brother.”

Killian threw back the rest of his rum and set the tumbler on the coffee table. Rubbing his hands on his jeans, he took a moment before answering, “Being away from her this long has proven I love her. I can hardly wait to see her again.”

Liam nodded and stared into the amber liquid he was swirling around in his glass. After several moments, he said softly, “Then don’t.”

Looking up at him, Killian asked, “What do you mean?”

“You have an open-ended ticket to fly back, so you can return any time. I heard you tell her the other night that you wished you could be with her for New Year’s Eve. Why don’t you fly home and surprise her?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Killian chuckled.

“Of course not, you git. We love having you here, but Belle and I both go back to work January 2nd and you weren’t planning to stay once we do that anyway. Why not go back a couple of days early and spend the first day of the new year with the woman you so very clearly love?”

Killian sat forward in his chair, rubbing his scruffy chin in thought. “You truly wouldn’t mind?”

Liam stood and strode over to him, placing his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We love you, Killian, and we will happily have you with us for as long as you choose to stay. But if you decide to go back and can catch a flight, we will understand. After all, you’ve already done an excellent job of thoroughly spoiling your niece and nephew.”

Grinning, Killian pulled his phone out of his pocket and brought up his internet browser to check for available flights back to the States.

*********

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us tonight, Emma?” Mary Margaret asked for at least the fourth time that day.

“I am not going to be a fifth wheel at a New Year’s Eve party where everyone will have a date,” Emma replied. “I’m looking forward to being in my pajamas all evening, eating popcorn, drinking hot chocolate and watching Netflix. I’m sure Killian will call to wish me a happy New Year, probably around seven, when it’s midnight in England, and I don’t want to miss it.”

Mary Margaret gave her a smile and pulled her into a hug. “Okay, but if you change your mind…”

“I won’t. Go have a good time and don’t worry about me. Even if Killian’s not here, it’s my first New Year’s with a boyfriend and I’m happy.”

*********

Emma checked her phone for what felt like the thousandth time that evening. When Killian hadn’t called at seven o’clock, she thought maybe he was just celebrating the New Year with his family, but now it was ten and she was beginning to think he had forgotten all about calling her. She tried to tell herself he might be waiting until midnight in her time zone, but that was unlikely since it would be five AM in England.

She pulled up his contact info on her phone numerous times, but kept herself from clicking on it since she was sure he had to be in bed and didn’t want to wake him.

As she was trying to concentrate on the third episode of The Devil in Ohio, cuddling up to her body pillow, there was a knock on her door. Sighing, she grabbed the remote to pause the show, and crossed the room, mumbling, “I told you not to worry about me, Marg.”

Pulling the door open, her legs nearly gave out when she saw her boyfriend standing in front of her. “K-Killian?” she squeaked.

“Happy New Year, Love.”

“Killian!” she cried, throwing herself into his arms. “How…oh, how are you here?”

“Liam convinced me to come back home to you,” he explained, letting out a joyous laugh when Emma started peppering kisses all over his face.

She stopped her onslaught to ask, “I mean, what?”

“You know, Liam, my older brother, he sent me…”

His words were cut off when she tugged him to her and kissed him soundly, only pulling away to say, “I don’t care. I don’t care how you’re here, I’m just glad you are.”

“So am I,” he grinned, hugging her tightly and swaying their bodies back and forth.

Once they finally ended their embrace and moved inside her apartment, she looked down at herself, her cheeks flooding with color. “Here I am in my pajamas, no makeup, my hair a mess. I look terrible.”

“You look stunning, Swan,” Killian assured her. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight.”

“Charmer,” she giggled, running her hands up his chest to loop her arms around his neck.

“Just telling the truth, Love.”

Emma brushed her lips over his. “I missed you.”

He wound a loose tendril of her hair around his finger, gazing into her eyes. “I missed you, too. So much so that my brother called me a ‘love sick puppy’ and suggested flying back to be with you for New Year’s.”

“Love sick puppy?” Emma questioned. Her heart began to hammer in her chest, wondering if she was reading too much into the phrase.

Killian dropped his gaze and scratched behind his ear, before looking back up at her with a warm gleam in his eyes. “Aye, love sick…because I’ve fallen in love with you, Emma.”

Her responding kiss was an acceptance of his declaration, and when it ended, she breathed, “I love you, too.”

More kisses followed, both of them trying to convey their newfound feelings to the other. After a while, Emma became aware of Killian putting some space between their bodies. She tried to pull him against her again, but he resisted and the reason suddenly dawned on her.

“If what we’re doing is…affecting you, you don’t have to try to hide it, you know. It doesn’t make you any less of a gentleman,” she whispered. “And besides, you’re not the only one affected.”

His desire-filled eyes met hers. “I…I don’t want you to…think I’m pressuring you into anything…”

“It’s not pressuring if I want the same thing.”

“Are you sure?”

“See, this is how I know you’re different from most other guys. The second they hear a girl is interested in going to bed with them, they jump at the chance, instead of asking if she’s sure,” Emma smirked.

He rubbed the back of his neck as the tips of his ears turned red. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

“Trust me, we are.” He wrapped his arms around her again, and she pressed close to him, feeling his arousal against her belly. “I think making love for the first time would be a great way to ring in the New Year, don’t you?”

“Aye, Love. This New Year promises to be the best one ever, and showing you how much I love you would be an excellent way to start it.”

She beamed at him, gave him a quick kiss, then picked up the remote to turn off the television.

“What is this?” Killian asked from behind her.

Turning to see what he was talking about, her cheeks heated immediately. He was standing there holding her body pillow wearing a puzzled look on his face.

“That,” she said, “is my Christmas gift from Ruby.”

“Is it indeed? Well, I like this Ruby already! Have you been sleeping with it?”

“Yes. Are you jealous?” she teased.

“Of myself? Perhaps just a bit,” he admitted.

“Well, you don’t have to be anymore, because tonight I’ll be sleeping with you.” She took his hand and began leading him toward her bedroom. “Come on, I’ll show you the other present Ruby gave me.”

They entered her room and Emma dropped his hand to remove a small pile of clothes from her bed. Dropping them onto a cedar chest in the corner, she said, “I hope my messiness isn’t a deal breaker.”

“Not a chance,” he answered, glancing quickly around the room to take in her personal touches. He saw a few of her glass projects sitting on her dresser, and it made him smile remembering when she made each one.

“The bedding is clean. I just washed it yesterday, but I guess you don’t really care about that,” she said, turning down the top sheet and blanket. She knew she was rambling, but she was beginning to feel a little nervous about being with him for the first time.

“Hey,” he said, taking hold of her hands to still them, “breathe, Swan. Let’s take our time and let this happen naturally. There’s no reason to rush or force things to happen, okay?”

She brought her hands up to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt. “I love you,” she breathed.

His answering smile lit up the room. “And I, you. What do you say we get rid of some of these clothes?”

“Sounds good to me,” she agreed, pushing his coat over his shoulders and hearing it land in a heap on the floor. Next, she began unbuttoning his shirt, while his fingers found their way under the hem of her pajama shirt, caressing the soft skin he encountered.

His shirt soon joined his jacket and Killian sucked in a breath as Emma slid her hands over his chest, her thumbs skimming over his nipples. She felt his hands glide up her sides, taking her top with them. She lifted her arms, allowing him to remove it completely and saw his eyes darken with desire as he drank in the sight of her bared breasts.

“Absolute perfection,” he murmured, his hands moving to palm them. She bit her lip as his fingers stroked over her sensitive skin. After several moments of admiration, his eyes shifted back up to hers, then his hands were framing her face, his head dipping to kiss her. It was gentle and unhurried, and she could feel herself relaxing with every sensual sweep of his tongue.

When he pulled her closer, she gasped as her taut nipples came in contact with the coarse hair on his chest, causing her nerve ends to tingle. His hands made their way down her back and inside her sleep pants to massage her ass, making a moan escape her mouth.

She knew his hands could work magic; she had seen them as he manipulated glass. Now she was eager to feel them on every inch of her body and she told him so.

“With pleasure, Love,” he grinned. He began by ridding her of her remaining clothes, then urging her to lay back on the bed. She watched him sweep his eyes over her body, noticing the hunger in them as he took her in. “Emma, you are exquisite,” he breathed, his voice awestruck.

“Please touch me, Killian,” she pleaded, her hands reaching for him.

He obliged immediately, gliding his hands up her calves and over her thighs. His thumbs brushed over her mound, but continued over the curves of her body, stopping to caress her breasts. His body followed the movement of his hands, straddling her until he was hovering over her.

When his lips closed around one of her nipples, her back arched into him. Then his voice buzzed against the skin of her throat. “I want to find out what feels good to you, so don’t hesitate to tell me what you like, okay?”

“Mmhmm,” she replied, her eyes closing, already on her way to a state of bliss.

Killian was eager to touch his beautiful girlfriend in all her intimate places and discover the things that brought her the most pleasure. He shifted to her side and dragged his hand down her body again, nudging her legs apart when he reached them. “Are you alright with me using my fingers?” he asked in a low voice.

“Y-yeah,” she said, widening her legs.

He stroked his fingers through her folds. “You’re already so wet, Love,” he murmured into her ear, watching her bite her lip as she nodded jerkily in response. Continuing his ministrations, he began rubbing his thumb over her bundle of nerves, taking note of how her hands gripped the pillow behind her head.

Slowly, he eased a finger inside her, the heat of her channel welcoming him immediately. Adding a second one, he began to stroke her steadily. The quivering of her legs and the moans she was emitting assured him she was thoroughly enjoying what he was doing. He knew she was right on the edge when her hips lifted off the bed and she rasped out his name in a wrecked voice. Leaning down, he sucked her clit between his lips and that was all it took to bring her to climax.

When he began teasing the nub with the tip of his tongue, he felt her hands gripping his hair and lifted his head to look up at her. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Hell, no,” she groaned. “That feels amazing!”

He grinned and ducked down to continue paying attention to her clit as he removed his fingers from inside her, bringing a gush of her arousal with them.

Feeling her hands loosening in his hair, he sat back on his haunches and waited until her eyes opened, glazed with pleasure. “Alright there, Love?” he asked.

She licked her lips before answering, “Yeah, and just so you know, I enjoyed that.”

“Did you really?” he said teasingly. “I’m glad you clarified that.”

“You’re awfully smug, Jones,” she said, trying and failing to sound miffed. Pushing up to her elbows to look at him, she added, “And you’re also far too clothed. It would bring me great pleasure to see you completely undressed.”

“As you wish, Milady.”

He removed his shoes, then getting off the bed, he unbuckled his belt and quickly removed his jeans, socks and boxer briefs. He knew Emma was watching him intently and heard her intake of breath when he stood naked before her. “See something you like, Swan?”

Emma was sure he would be impressive, and she definitely wasn’t disappointed. As he climbed back onto the bed and laid down beside her, she reached for him, stopping just short of touching him.

“You want me to tell you what feels good and I want you to do the same, okay?”

“Okay” he promised.

She took him in hand, stroking and squeezing his cock and feeling it grow harder as she did. He started pressing kisses to her throat and shoulder, murmuring words of encouragement and pleasure into her skin.

After a few minutes, he reached down to still her hand. “Don’t take me too far,” he requested in a strained voice. “I want to be inside you when I come.”

Taking his face between her hands, she kissed him sweetly. “I think it’s time to show you the other gift Ruby gave me.”

“Now?” he questioned.

She giggled. “Yeah, just wait.” She pushed off the bed and crossed the room to her dresser, pulling open a drawer to retrieve the box of condoms.

Turning around, she held it up to show him and he barked out a laugh. “Well, I do have to admit I didn’t come prepared, so I’m very happy you have good friends.”

Opening the box and removing one of the foil packs, Emma said, “She told me this was a week’s worth.”

“I like the way she thinks,” he smirked, as Emma joined him on the bed again. Tearing open the package, she met his eyes in an unspoken question and, at his slight nod, carefully rolled the condom into place.

Killian gently pushed her onto her back and moved over her, palming her breast with one hand, while his other cupped the back of her head to tilt it to just the right angle for him to plunder her mouth. Her hands scratching down his back, along with her needy, throaty sounds, had him as hard as he had ever been in his life. He felt her shifting underneath him and soon he was cradled between her thighs, his cock rubbing deliciously against her wet heat.

Their hands continued to roam, caressing and squeezing, while their mouths stayed connected in a searing kiss, punctuated by nips and panted words of desire. He began lightly rutting against her, trying to gauge her readiness by her reaction. Soon, she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him to her tightly, and he got his answer.

He wordlessly encouraged her to loosen her legs enough for him to reach between them and line himself up. Pushing into her slowly, he watched her face for any sign of discomfort, but all he saw was pure bliss and love.

When he was fully seated, he dropped his forehead to her chest, trying to keep himself from listening to his body, which was telling him to take her hard and fast. Her legs once again gripped his hips and he could feel her nails digging into his back.

“Killian,” he heard her murmur into his hair, “feels so good, but…please move.”

Raising his head, he kissed her briefly, then pushed up to his elbows and started thrusting shallowly. He wanted to savor the feeling of being inside the woman of his dreams; the woman he loved, and who loved him. It was almost overwhelming.

Emma had never experienced more pleasure in her life. She felt like every nerve ending was sparking, shooting heat throughout her body. Killian fit inside her perfectly, like he was meant just for her. Her pelvis raised off the bed as she met him thrust for thrust, her hands scrabbling for purchase on his back.

She didn’t know how long she could last as the pace picked up and his strokes went deeper. Then his rhythm stuttered as he pulled back to look at her and she nearly came completely undone from the look of utter adoration in his eyes.

“I love you,” he panted.

“I love you, too,” she responded. “Now, make me come.”

Grinning, he set about doing just that, and in no time at all, she was falling over the edge, ripples of intense pleasure moving through her body.

Killian felt her climax pulsing against his cock and couldn’t hold back any longer, joining her in a blissful state of euphoria. Not wanting to put his full weight on her, he rolled them over until she laid on top of him, their chests rising and falling together as they tried to catch their breath.

Her smooth, soft skin was a magnet for his fingers, as he drew abstract designs into it. He could easily spend hours holding her against him, feeling her breath on his neck, her hair tickling his arms and her legs tangled between his own. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so sated and content.

Emma didn’t want to move. She wasn’t sure she was even capable of moving since she finally understood what it meant to feel completely boneless. Words failed her, but she didn’t care. Resting her head on Killian’s chest, she could hear his erratic heartbeat and knew this was exactly where she wanted to be.

The comfortable silence stretched on for several minutes, until she felt him brushing her hair away from her face. She lifted her head to meet his gaze. “Hey,” she whispered.

“Hey, yourself,” he mumbled lazily. “Happy New Year.”

She looked at the digital clock on her bedside stand. “We still have forty-five minutes to go.”

“I’m claiming it early because everything feels like a new start with you. I know it’s very soon to be thinking about this, and I don’t mean to upset you, but I can see a future with you, Emma. A happy one.”

“That doesn’t upset me, Killian. For the first time in my life, I can picture being with someone in a committed relationship. I’ve always said I don’t need a man to be happy, and I don’t, but I think I can be even happier with you.”

He barely had time to answer her statement with a smile before she was kissing him, sweet and slow, sealing their declarations about their future.

After cleaning up and putting on the bare minimum of clothes - Killian in his boxer briefs and Emma in his discarded button-down shirt - she reheated some leftover spaghetti for him. He had barely eaten since having lunch with Liam and his family. He merely picked at the meal on the flight, his stomach churning with thoughts of how she would react to his surprise.

“Oh, hey,” Emma said, “can I take a picture of the two of us? I want to send it to my friends. They were worried about me spending New Year’s Eve by myself.”

“Of course, but if they asked you to do something with them, why didn’t you, Love?”

“Because I was convinced you would call me when it was midnight in England and I didn’t want to miss talking to you.”

“So I disappointed you.”

She got up from her seat and circled around the table. Standing behind him, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. “You definitely made up for it, my love.”

After collecting her phone from the living room, she resumed her spot behind him, wiped a bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth with her finger, and took a selfie of the two of them. Adding the caption ‘Look who came all the way from England to surprise me for New Year’s’, she sent it to her friends in their group chat.

She didn’t expect to get immediate responses since it was only a few minutes before midnight, but Ashley’s reply appeared within a few seconds.

A: OMG Emma! That’s fantastic! I’m so happy for you!

E: Thanks! Why did you answer so fast?

A: We had to come home early because Alexandra got sick.

E: Oh no! Hope she feels better soon.

A: She seems fine and is already asleep. I think she just missed mommy and daddy.

E: That’s good. Well, Happy New Year to all of you!

A: Happy New Year to you and your man too!

Emma couldn’t help the ridiculously wide smile that crossed her face at her friend’s last statement. Her man. She had a man, and not just any man. The sexiest, sweetest, most handsome man she’d ever met…and he loved her.

Checking the time on her device, she noticed it was 11:58. “Do you want to watch the ball drop?” she asked Killian.

“Sure, then we can officially welcome in the New Year.”

They sat down on the sofa and she quickly found a TV station where they could watch the countdown, which had already started. When it got to the final ten seconds, Killian took her hand and squeezed it as they chanted the numbers together. As the huge, glittering ball reached the bottom and lit up with the New Year, they embraced one another and shared a passionate kiss, only pausing to exchange I love you’s before diving back in for more.

Emma had pushed him back on the couch and was trailing kisses down his throat, when her phone started buzzing on the end table. She ignored it, until he asked, “Are…aren’t you going to get that, Love?”

She sat up and looked at him. “Do you want me to?”

“Whoever it is will probably continue to call until you answer it,” he reasoned.

Emma sighed and grabbed the buzzing phone. Seeing the name on the screen, she rolled her eyes. “It’s Ruby.”

He grinned at her consternation while she swiped across the screen. “Hey, Rubes.”

“GIRRRRRRLLLL!” Ruby screeched and Emma pulled the phone away from her ear with a pained look on her face. “Mr. Hottie showed up at your door? And he CAME all the way from England! He must be the most prolific lover of all time!”

“Oh, good grief, Ruby! Why do you always make everything sexual? And why are you calling me? Shouldn’t you be sucking face with Graham?”

“I already did and he knows he’ll get hot Ruby love later, but I saw your text and had to call! Did you make good use of my gift to you? Please tell me you’re already well into your week’s supply!”

Emma’s face felt hot and she knew it was beet red. “He’s only been here a couple of hours.”

“And your point is…?”

“Look, Ruby. I’m glad you’re happy for us, but I’d rather not share our, um…personal details.”

Ruby’s loud laugh came through the phone. “You just answered my question, Emma Swan. If you didn’t want us to know you did the deed, you should have made sure he wasn’t naked when you took the picture.”

“He wasn’t…” Emma started, then looked at her shirtless boyfriend. He grinned back at her, rubbing his fingers against his bare chest. “Okay, he was semi-naked, but that doesn’t mean that we…”

“Of course it does. You’re not gonna convince me he flew in from a whole other country to spend New Year’s Eve with you and all you did was shake his hand.”

“You know what, Ruby? Why don’t you go give Graham some of your hot Ruby loving now. I’m hanging up. Happy New Year!”

“And a very, very Happy New Year to both of you, too. Now, go do some more celebrating!”

They received congratulatory messages from Mary Margaret and Elsa soon after and by that time, jet lag and a day of international travel had taken its toll on Killian. Emma ignored his protests of wanting to follow Ruby’s instructions and dragged him off to bed, where he promised to make it up to her in the morning, then fell asleep in her arms within minutes.

He was true to his word, waking her up in the most pleasurable way eight hours later, the two of them celebrating until their growling stomachs finally drove them out of bed at noon.

*********

The new year brought lots of changes to the couple, along with more happiness than either of them had ever known. Killian met Emma’s friends and their significant others, and was soon comfortable being part of the group. He spent many nights at her apartment and within a few months, most of his clothes were in her closet and his toiletries littered her bathroom.

Emma became a regular at Killian’s glass shop, while still staying busy at the bakery. Even though he was thrilled to spend so much time with her, he worried about the amount of back and forth driving she was doing in her old VW. One day in May, he surprised her with the announcement that he rented a warehouse in Storybrooke and was moving his shop there. She protested at first, not wanting the more isolated location to hurt his business, but he assured her his online sales were booming and that people would be willing to drive a little further for lessons, which proved to be true.

When he started looking for an apartment in Storybrooke, Emma suggested he move in with her instead, and he happily agreed. Once he had his shop up and running at the end of July, they moved the remainder of his belongings into her place.

In September, Liam and his family flew in to visit Killian and meet Emma in person. She had seen them through his phone screen on several FaceTime calls and already felt accepted by them. By the end of their week-long visit, her place in the family was cemented when Liam referred to her as the sister he always wanted.

Mary Margaret, who was newly engaged, was convinced Killian was going to propose at Christmas, so when he didn’t, Emma tried not to be disappointed. She really wasn’t in any hurry to get married, but after her friend planted the thought in her head, it began to take root.

Their plans for New Year’s Eve were to have dinner at their favorite restaurant overlooking the harbor and then attend the annual party at the town hall with their friends. That evening, Killian called her thirty minutes before their reservations to tell her he was delayed waiting for several orders to be picked up by the parcel service, and would meet her at the restaurant.

She blew out an exasperated sigh and sat down on the couch to wait until it was time to leave. Twenty minutes later, she buttoned her winter coat over the red, form-fitting dress she was anxious to reveal to her boyfriend, grabbed her handbag, and threw the door open.

It was like deja vu. Killian was standing in the hallway, dressed smartly in a navy suit, crisp white shirt, and silver tie, holding a bouquet of red and white roses in a glass vase she was sure he made especially for her.

“Happy New Year, Love.”

“K-Killian, I thought you said…”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“Just like last year, huh?”

“Well, not exactly like last year,” he answered, bending to sit the vase on the floor beside him. Then he pulled a jeweler's box out of his jacket pocket and lowered himself to one knee in front of her, opening the box as he did.

Her eyes immediately misted over and she covered her mouth with both hands.

“Emma,” he began, “you blew me away the moment you stepped into my shop. You’re the love of my life and I want to spend every minute of that life with you. It would make me beyond happy and proud to be your husband, if you will agree to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

She started nodding before he even finished asking, and then she choked out, “Yes, Killian! Oh god, yes! I will marry you!”

He removed the diamond ring from the box and took her trembling hand to slip it onto her finger, then stood and pulled her into his embrace, showering her hair and face with kisses. When their lips finally met, the kiss was like none they had ever shared before - a promise of their future which was more than just a dream now.

As they stood with their foreheads pressed together after the kiss ended, he murmured, “I guess we better get going or we’ll miss our dinner reservations.”

She looked at him with a smug smile, bent down to pick up the vase of flowers and turned to go inside. Once she set the bouquet on the kitchen table, she unbuttoned her coat slowly and deliberately, letting it slide to the floor when she was done.

Killian’s mouth dropped open at the sight of her in the red dress and his Adam’s apple bobbed several times before he could force words past it. “Swan, you look absolutely breathtaking.” Moving across the room, he pulled her to him for another passionate kiss. Slightly out of breath afterwards, he picked up the coat and held it up for her to slip into it.

“I don’t need it,” she said.

“It’s freezing outside, Love. Of course you need it.”

She took the coat and folded it over a chair. “No, I don’t,” she purred, draping her arms around his neck. “I want to spend New Year’s Eve with my fiancé, celebrating the exact same way we did last year.”

“But dinner, and our friends…”

“I don’t care about dinner, and our friends will understand once we tell them we were celebrating our engagement. Unless you would rather keep our original plans?”

His face morphed into his signature smolder, with a sly smirk and one eyebrow raised high on his forehead. “Your plans are much more appealing, my love.”

Taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom, she said, “Come on, then. Let’s see if your new fiancée can still blow you away!”

*********

Happiest of birthdays, Beth! I hope this brightens your day, and I wish the same for anyone else who reads it. Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tagging: @xsajx @hookedmom @kymbersmith-90 @kmomof4 @lassluna @pirateherokillian @teamhook @stahlop @elizabeethan @whimsicallyenchantedrose @resident-of-storybrooke @therooksshiningknight @jennjenn615 @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @killianswannn @stories-enchanted @eleveneitherway @withheartfulloflove @kday426 @djlbg @kristi555 @laschatzi @xarandomdreamx @wyntereyez @goforlaunchcee @yasbio2015 @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @wefoundloveunderthelight @hollyethecurious @let-it-raines @jonesfandomfanatic @searchingwardrobes @oncechicagolove @andiirivera  @gingerchangeling @everything-person @klynn-stormz @qualitycoffeethings @enchanted-swans @ohmakemeahercules @donteattheappleshook @bluewildcatfanatic @the-darkdragonfly @demisexualemmaswan @grimmswan @spartanguard @flslp87 @ultraluckycatnd @thisonesatellite @captainswan21 @zaharadessert @mariakov81 @snowbellewells @kiwistreetswan @batana54 @nadine200179 @probalicious17 @courtorderedcake @julesep3026 @jackieorioncat @whatthehell102082 @jarienn972 @sthonour @linda8084  @pirateprincesslena @daxx04 @winterbythesea @artistic-writer @cocohook38 @captainswan4life85 @molly958 @itsfridaysomewhere @fallingforthecaptain  @onceratheart18 @strangestarlighttree @justanother-unluckysoul @mrs-potato-but-likes-tomato @anothersworld @deckerstarblanche @purplehawkcaptain  @superchocovian @k-leemac @citygirlscowboy @laughterandbooks @sotangledupinit @apiratewhopines @huntressandlioness1 @cosette141  @gingerpolyglot @motherkatereloyshipper @cs-rylie @anmylica @paradiselady19 @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @elfiola @softkilly

#cs ff #blow me away #a birthday story for Beth #jrob64 #CS modern AU #cs fanfiction #captain swan fan fiction #cs smut and fluff #captain swan fic #ouat captain swan fanfic #glassblower Killian #cake decorator Emma

[snowbellewells]

Birthday Fic Update: “One More” (part three)

Okay, I realize that it isn’t morning anymore (as I promised @kmomof4 Sorry Krystal!) But it is still Monday, and I’ve kept you waiting less the a week after the painful update. This one won’t fix everything, but you’ll have a better sense of what’s going on, and hopefully things will look less bleak. Also, this update marks the halfway point in the story - so there’s a bit of a hinge point with this one - the first half is from Emma’s point-of-view as usuall, and the second part shows us what’s been going on with Killian.

I hope you’ll enjoy (and perhaps feel less likely to keep out your pitchforks) after this one!

Still a Birthday Fic for @searchingwardrobes -- who I hope will trust me just a little longer, despite the momentary pain.

Also available on AO3, if that’s your preference, or from the start here on Tumblr

Summary: Through the years, Emma keeps waiting - one more placement, one more year, one more separation - until she can find where and with whom she truly belongs. It turns out the person to show her has been right beside her all the time...

by: @snowbellewells

iii. nineteen years old (two years later)

“Just one more good push, Emma!” the nurse at her elbow cajoled, urging her on intently, knowing the young woman was almost out of strength, at the very dregs of her reserves. “You can do it, I know you can.  …Ready? Push!”

Gritting her teeth on a last effort to free the little one inside her, whom she had clung to the hope of meeting, despite the heartache and worry that had hung over her as he grew. She couldn’t fail him now. They would both need every ounce of her resolve to face the world, just the two of them.

Shakily, Emma attempted to give Nurse Green a tremulous smile, though barely able to hold her head upright through her exhaustion. “Just one more, huh?” she huffed, her breath ragged as she exhaled and tried to draw in another. “I think the little guy has other plans, Tink.”

Tina Green, known to many of her patients and co-workers at the small women’s clinic in Seattle where she worked and where she had met Emma as ‘Tink’ for her petite, blonde, pixie-ish looks and chipper manner, merely shook her head. “Whatever it takes to keep you fighting to see him,” she countered stoutly.

The doctor broke into their back and forth from the foot of the bed - matter of fact and as though he had heard none of the women’s conversation that had come before. “Alright, Ms. Swan. The baby’s head is crowning. Now is the time for that final effort. You’re about to meet your son.”

Emma didn’t know that she had more to give; she had been laboring so long now that drawing breath and retaining awareness seemed almost too steep a battle. All the same, she bore down again, praying this truly would be the last push, that her little boy would finally join them. She could only hope she didn’t break Tink’s hand as she clutched it for some minor amount of support.

Over the last several months, there had been so many times; moments when she tossed and turned unable to sleep, when she tried to read maternity books to prepare and only felt inadequate and overwhelmed, or when she stood in the corner market near tears over boxes of cereal, wondering how she would ever keep her child fed and clothed with her meager sole income, when she had almost admitted defeat. She’d considered giving her precious little one up for adoption; thinking even as her heart bled at the idea that he would have to be better off with a family who couldn’t have a child of their own than with her - not even out of her teens, who’d never had a mother herself and could barely keep a roof over her own head. But then Emma remembered her own experience in the system, always alone and never wanted. What if her baby wasn’t adopted either? She simply couldn’t leave him to the same sort of childhood she’d lived through. 

Emma kept herself fighting because, in getting to this point, she and her child were already survivors. They would find a way, because they would have each other. Drawing in a ragged breath and forcing herself to exhale it slowly, Emma refocused on the goal before she was urged to push yet again. If nothing else, she would give her child what she’d only had for a short, golden period in her life - someone to love him unconditionally… a family.

The contracting pain inside her swelled yet again, feeling as if it might tear her apart. ‘One more, one more, one more…” she repeated to herself, almost a mantra that matched her heartbeat, urging her to carry on.

The pressure crested to almost unbearable proportions, and Emma couldn’t hold back the cry torn from her thoat as she gritted her teeth and strained to finally see her baby enter the world, to finally hold him in her arms. 

“There you are, I see the shoulders,” the doctor reported, guiding the newborn on his way. “You’ve got this, Ms. Swan.”

Falling back on her pillow, winded and drained like a deflated balloon, Emma tried to catch her breath, even as she listened intently for the first cries of her little boy, the announcement that he had arrived alive and well.

“Did you hear that, Emma?” Tink’s voice chirped happily at her side, brushing the mussed, sweaty strands of her hair off her forehead and offering her a gentle, encouraging smile. “He’s here! Your little guy’s finally here! You did it!”

“I did, didn’t I?” Emma slurred blearily, her eyelids hovering exhausted at half mast but determined to see the bundle who had caused such worry and excitement before she could fully relax. “Can I hold him yet?”

As if knowing his mother’s voice and prompted to answer it, just then a high, thin wail rang out in the delivery room, the reedy cry of a babe cold and scared outside of the cozy home he had known in his mother’s womb. The plaintive sound reached out as distinctly as an outstretched hand to squeeze her heart. Emma struggled to sit forward, straining to see and comfort her little one in his distress.

Only moments later, Tink moved toward her cradling a white-blanket-swaddled bundle passed on from the doctor as he had finished washing the newborn and clearing his airway. “Here he is, Emma,” she crooned, leaning over to carefully hand the baby off to his eager mother. “He just wanted to see his mama,” she added sweetly. The little boy’s cries lessened the moment he was nestled in Emma’s arms, and the angry red of his tiny wrinkled face lightened as he calmed.

Predictable as it might have been, Emma felt tears welling in her eyes, pooling and streaming down her cheeks. Her joy at holding him in her arms after nine months of waiting - her son, her flesh and blood - overwhelmed and spilled from her in an unchecked torrent. His little upturned nose, chubby cheeks, thin tufts of damp, curling bown hair were already cherished, even as they blurred before her eyes.

Naively, she had feared that he would remind her of the man who’d fathered him; someone she’d met not long after landing in Seattle a year ago, roving blindly in a lost and broken haze, barely remembered beyond messy brown hair, teasing cocoa-colored eyes, and a handful of rushed, less-than-incredible couplings in the back of the stolen car he’d left her with. She fallen in with the older guy almost solely because he’d shown an interest, she’d been running scared, almost starved and out of money to rent a motel room another night, and simply tired - tired of having to figure it all out on her own. When she’d wakened to find him gone about a month after they’d met and thrown their lots in together, she hadn’t even been surprised. She probably should have been hurt, but after Killian’s loss, Neal’s desertion was more like the prick of a thorn than a lasting wound. The positive pregnancy test stolen and then used in the Target bathroom had been the shock that had almost felled her.

Instead, gazing down at her little boy’s placid face, relaxed and nearly dozing once held again in his mother’s soothing warmth, Emma could only see his beautiful sweet innocence. She would give her own life - mere minutes after meeting him - to see that preserved. He should always be able to have the sort of hope she had lost long ago.

Unable to look away, afraid to even blink for fear he might vanish, Emma loved her baby on sight, as if she had never even understood love before. This was one thing at last she knew she had gotten right.

“Henry,” she breathed out softly against his baby soft skin. “Mama’s here… I love you so much, okay? No matter what.” And she vowed then and there, whatever came, Henry Swan - her Henry - would always have his best chance.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

eighteen years old  (not quite three years ago)

When Killian Jones first woke in a base camp mobile hospital overseas, he couldn’t remember where he was or what had happened to him. As he tried to regain his bearings, glancing around and intently tamping down the beginning flickers of panic and that blank canvas within his mind, he knew who he was, but who might be missing him, and why he might be lying there injured in the strange bed beneath him were completely beyond his capability to recall.

Thankfully, as he remained conscious, and doctors and nurses came to check on him and report on his condition and what was being done for him, more of Killian’s awareness and memory came trickling back. He had enlisted in the Navy and reported for basic training. He was had hoped to do his duty, to travel, find his purpose, and also pay for his chance to pursue college study for a career that truly inspired him. He’d been thinking of those possibilities, along with the more mundane pleasure of cuddling with some clearly familiar and comforting blonde beauty in some off-campus coffeeshop, humming along softly to some unknown singer, ignoring his school work and hearing of her day, even as he had been going about the tasks of a routine patrol in what were supposed to be friendly waters, when something had gone wrong. He’d been gladly thinking of making his older brother proud and the happy future stretched out before him when their vessel had been struck.

His brother! An alarm blared in his mind suddenly. Liam! How could he have forgotten?! He’d already wasted so much time! He shook his head in agitated frustration as his realizations multiplied. Bloody hell! Would they have already told his brother he was missing? Or dead?

Quickly flagging down the first orderly who passed, Killian urgently attempted to make the person understand just how desperately, how immediately, his message needed to be sent. He needed to find out if he had already been listed as missing, if his brother had already been notified, and if - 

Emma! This second remembrance was like a bolt of lightning slashing right through the center of his being. How could he have forgotten the most important name he had ever known? She was the beautiful girl beside him in his fantasies of quiet afternoons in a peaceful college town; the smile and sparkling green eyes looking back at him in his dreams. They had been nearly inseparable from the moment they’d met, so how was it possible her memory had not been the first to return to him?

Killian’s stomach fell away, gut clenching in fear and regret at how bravely Emma had tried to seem happy for him when he’d told her of his enlistment. How he had promised her he’d be back at her side before she could even miss him. Tears swam unbidden in his eyes, knowing how it would have devastated her to hear he was lost. Of course, Liam would have tried to tell her gently, but she would have assumed the worst. Life had given Emma Swan little reason to do otherwise in her first seventeen years. And he would, for all that she knew, be just one more person to desert her and leave her behind.

Mercifully, once Killian calmed himself enough to make the situation understood, and to speak with the right higher-ups to ascertain what had been reported and how he should proceed, it didn’t take long for them to help him contact Liam stateside. The relief and joy in his brother’s voice, at what seemed no less than a miracle to the elder Jones brother, was a balm to Killian’s fraught and anxious soul.

But when Liam balked at taking the call next door, not letting Killian speak to Emma, his insides turned to ice. Haltingly, in a voice full of pained regret - both for Killian’s hurt, and as one who had loved the neighbor girl as an older sibling himself - Liam managed to explain that they had no way to tell Emma of Killian’s return. The moment she had turned 18 and was free of the foster system, Emma had vanished. As if she hadn’t been able to look at Killian’s house next door without him there, Emma had fled; no one had seen or heard from her since.  She was just… gone.

Tagging:  @jennjenn615 @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @cosette141 @stahlop @xarandomdreamx @sotangledupinit @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @nachocheese-itsmycheese @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @xsajx @lfh1226-linda @winterbaby89 @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @motherkatereloyshipper @booksteaandtoomuchtv @thislassishooked @blackwidownat2814 @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @scientificapricot @tomeandflickcorner @ineffablecolors @drowned-dreamer @let-it-raines @justanother-unluckysoul​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @hollyethecurious​ @bdevereaux​ @zaharadessert​ @kday426​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @artistic-writer​ 

#cs modern au ff #cs birthday fic #cs angst #one more #part three #birthday fic for @searchingwardrobes #young emma #young killian #lieutenant duckling #sort of?

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

Witchy Woman (9/10)

64.media.tumblr.com

0.5 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | AO3 | 10

LOOK AT THIS STUNNING ARTWORK BY @cocohook38

Summary: When Emma came into her position as Storybrooke Coven Leader, she ended things with the powerful Vampire Overlord, Killian Jones. She’s spent over a decade working alongside him and ignoring the growing tension between them.

During his best mate’s wedding, Killian decides he is done waiting. He is ready to have his mate back in his arms (and bed) again. Emma is not an easy woman to woo, but Killian has never backed down from a challenge.

When Emma’s jilted ex-boyfriend returns to town and Emma goes missing, Killian will stop at nothing to get her back and ensure that nothing can ever separate them again.

Rating: E

CW: Mention of domestic abuse, blood and blood drinking (vampires), threatening situations, minor violence, death, mention of parental death

Entry for Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2023 (@cssns)

Tag: @anmylica, @deckerstarblanche, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4, @pirateswhore, @stahlop, @teamhook, @tiganasummertree, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert (let me know if you want to be added or dropped)

Killian woke up with Emma on his chest and the blankets wrapped tightly around them. Emma had built her cocoon around them both sometime in the night. Her sea-coloured eyes were already on his and she wore a contented smile while she twirled her finger in the patch of hair on his chest. 

“What a lovely sight to see upon waking, Swan.” 

“I've been admiring the view myself,” she said before placing a chaste kiss on his chest. 

He ran his hand along her side, squeezing her tight to him as he did so. Her soft skin pressed against his beneath the blankets. Everything was perfect. These moments were becoming more frequent - they were no less precious in their frequency. With these once fleeting moments of warmth, contentedness, and connection becoming commonplace between them, their relationship felt more real, more substantial, than it had before. She wasn’t going to vanish from his grasp between one second and the next. 

“I need to get up and shower and help Anna with the beach party preparations and…” Killian interrupted her task list with a sweet kiss.

“Let’s start with the shower - that is something I can help you with.” 

“Okay, yeah.” Emma shifted off him to the en suite. “But after coffee, I have to go.” 

“Hmm, that is a while from now,” Killian answered as he followed her into the bathroom to run the water for them. He tugged her into his shower and water engulfed them from all sides. He chuckled at the deep groan that she released when the side jet nearest to her hit her lower back. He kneaded his hand and his blunted arm into her lower back muscles, enjoying the sounds of her sighs and moans when he hit upon a particularly sore spot. 

“I’m never going to leave if you keep this up.” 

“That’s the plan, love.” Killian smiled cheekily at her as she turned to hug him in the warm water. 

“This is nice.”

“Aye, that it is.”

“I like waking up with you,” Emma admitted softly. Killian broke their embrace to lather soap on them both.

“Should you move in with me, we would never need to wake up any other way.” Killian hadn’t intended to ask her, but he did not regret it. He wanted her to be the first thing that he saw every morning, the blanket thief in his bed each night, the clothing left strewn about the immaculate house, the other coffee cup on the counter top, and all the thousands of tiny things that are involved in sharing a life together.

“Hmm. You want me to move in with you so that we can always wake up together?” 

“Aye. That’s one reason.” He answered after they rinsed off the soap. 

“Not the only one?”

“There are so many reasons that I want to share a home with you, Emma. Move in with me and let me show them to you?” 

The water seemed to roar more loudly in the quiet that followed. Time slowed in that cruel way it does when the next second will irrevocably impact your life. Perhaps, it is meant to help you prepare in case the ensuing second arrives ready to break you beyond repair. Maybe it is less malicious than that, a moment stretched out so that you know to pay attention and be fully present because what happens next matters. 

Killian intently watched as thoughts and emotions flickered wildly behind Emma’s eyes, as she drew in a breath to answer, as she formed the words that propelled time suddenly forward.

“You do have a kitchen full of my favourite snacks,” Emma smiled excitedly up at him. His heart was cliche as it soared with joy.

“Aye, and these plush towels you love so much,” he said, wrapping her in a towel as they stepped out of the shower. 

“And, that insanely large and comfortable bed.” 

“Aye, and coffee,” he offered, “with cinnamon.”

“All with the vampire that I love.” 

“All for the witch that I love.” 

§§§§    §§§§    §§§§    §§§§

The connection that they’d forged between them last night felt like a thread pulling and guiding them together. It was a bit strange at first - when she left to catch up with Anna, it had felt like a rubber band angry with being stretched to its limit. But, it quickly became a comfort, especially, after all the time they’d spent apart. 

As he went about his day, checking security for the beach party and of the town, he grew accustomed to the gentle nudge at his chest urging him ever closer to her. At times, he was sure he could detect echoes of emotion that belonged to his witch. 

There was also a new awareness of the strands of magic flowing around him and through him that he knew meant he’d absorbed some of her powers. He was a magical creature, his magic was an essential part of his being and ruled him, but her powers gave her control over magic. He wanted to explore this with her further, to ensure he could use her gifts without a cost to her and to experience the world as she did. Plus, he thought up some positions and games for them to try once he learned how her telekinesis worked. 

He was completing a final check of the security plan for tomorrow’s event before heading to the beach party when he received an email from Smee reporting a new possible security risk. 

“Bloody,” Killian cursed as he opened the missive. He couldn’t afford to overlook any potential situation just because he was anxious to get to the beach. 

He skimmed the report - a non-issue. But, he’d been delayed far longer than he wished. He shut down his computer and cleaned off his desk when the echoes of emotion that had accompanied him through the bond all day fell silent. 

His heart pounded as he pulled out his phone and called David. He was travelling at the height of his vampiric speed, the beach almost in view, as he listened to the phone ringing out. 

The band was playing and the party was in full swing when he reached the shoreline. The tether to Emma tugged him away from the party. Fear that didn’t belong to him crawled up his spine - Emma. 

“Hey, it’s David. Leave a message.”

Killian cursed, waiting for the beep. “Something has happened to Emma. I am tracking her and sharing my location with you. When you get this, find me. See you soon, mate.” 

He followed that wonderful tug toward the abandoned mines. When he reached the entrance,  he caught her scent mixed with another he knew well. Smee? 

As if in answer to his question, Smee emerged from the dark. 

“Sire?”

“Mr Smee,” Killian acknowledged. “Why aren’t you at your post?” 

“I got a call about some werewolves causing trouble nearby. I came to check it out.” 

Liar. The thought came from the magic swirling around him - Emma’s lie detector was more literal than he ever considered. The betrayal stung for a moment. The way his scent was so intermingled with Emma’s suggested that Smee was a part of what was happening with Emma. He wanted to demand answers, to hurt Smee the way Emma’s fear was hurting him, but he had to get to her. He didn’t want to waste time on Smee’s games. 

He smiled at Smee, all teeth and predator. Smee had a moment to process the threat before Killian rushed him and tore his head from his shoulders in one quick movement. He left the body and head at the mouth of the shaft and entered the mine. 

He could feel the anger radiating from her through the thread that connected them now. Anger meant she would find a way to fight, that would buy him time to reach her.

As he raced deeper into the mine, Killian’s chest started to burn as if it were being set on fire. What the fuck is happening? 

He set his teeth against the crippling pain and pressed on. He encountered a few weak werewolves blocking his progress. A wave of his hand sent them into the rock wall, knocking them out, and clearing the way forward. 

Screaming bounced around the dark walls around him and the scent of Emma’s blood was thick in the air. A growl tore through him as rage, red and hot, overtook him. He stormed forward, entering a cavern lined with sigils and one large stone slab where Emma was restrained and screaming as she battled a force he could not see. 

Regina and Neal stood in the space, watching the brutal scene unfold before them. Regina’s mouth was moving quickly, chanting the spell that was attacking Emma. Neal turned to face him with a broad smile on his face. “She’s going to be mine, now,” Neal gloated in way of greeting. 

Killian flung him against a wall to be dealt with later and turned his attention to the witch harming his mate. He darted toward her. She raised an arm, suspending him in mid-stride. Her chanting continued as she held him with little effort. He fought against Regina’s magic with all his strength but failed to overpower her magic, failed to stop Emma’s suffering. 

Regina smiled. 

Now would be a fantastic time to arrive, David. 

Killian stopped fighting against Regina’s power. It wrapped around him and held him in place. A witch’s magic would always be more powerful than the raw strength of either a vampire or a werewolf. It was how the gods kept the balance between the creatures. He just needed to figure out some other way to best her. 

An itch in his fingers alerted him of a change in the magic restraining him. It was gathering at his fingertips, aligning with the magic at his call, no longer holding him in place but awaiting his commands. 

He snarled forcing the magic back into Regina. It halted her chanting before tearing her into pieces from the inside out. A pile of purple dust gathered where the villainess had just stood. “Bloody hell.” Emma’s magic was a truly terrifying and wonderful thing. 

Turning to the slab, he waved away her restraints and pulled her into his arms. She was unconscious as he turned to take her out of this hell. But she was safe, now. He gripped her tight to him, the relief of her heart beating against his chest almost brought him to his knees.

“I think I hear something in this direction.” 

“David, my magic says they are this way.” Mary Margaret’s voice rang out through the tunnels. 

“Mary Margaret. David. We’re here.” Killian called, his voice breaking with emotion. She’s safe, now. She will be okay. 

§§§§    §§§§    §§§§    §§§§

For every day that Emma did not wake, Killian carved a reminder into Neal’s flesh. For every time she called out Killian’s name during her endless slumber, he would break a bone, heal it, and break it again. The hisses and cries of her tormentor did very little to ease his anger, but even a drop of water is worth collecting if you’re dying of thirst. 

He entered the cell holding Neal, for now, ready to claim his flesh as the seventh day passed without any change. They had healed her with his venom, the bones in her hand knitted together days ago, her body was healthy but her mind was still out of reach. He felt like he was slowly losing parts of himself every day she stayed in this state. Perhaps, it was why he was enjoying taking parts from Neal so much. 

Neal looked up as Killian entered, the fear behind his eyes dulled from the day before, and his posture seemed resigned but no longer hopeless. A dark feeling crept through Killian, his jaw clenching against it.

“How’s Ems?” 

“You don’t get to ask.” Killian shut the door behind him, the lock engaging automatically behind him with a quiet click. “I do apologise, Neal, for you seem to have mistaken yourself for a guest in my home. Or a plaything that I intend to keep around for some time.” 

Neal’s eyes widened and the sharp acidic scent of fear filled the air as it dawned on him that tonight was going to be different than the previous six. Killian’s smirk was all hungry predator toying with his prey. “I assure you that I intend to rectify those misconceptions most thoroughly before I leave tonight. I am afraid that does mean that you won’t live to see tomorrow, mate.”

Killian smiled when Neal rallied his courage to make a last stand against him. He was hungry for a fight. Neal attacked first, lunging for Killian with his fangs extended as if they would pose any threat to Killian. Killian laughed without humour knocking the weaker vampire to the ground. He put his boot against Neal’s arm, pinning him to the floor. 

“She will never forgive you for killing me.” Neal spit out. Killian increased the pressure on Neal’s arm until a satisfying crack split the air. Neal grunted in pain, tears leaking from his eyes.

“She doesn’t like you nearly as much as you’ve told yourself,” Killian said smoothly. 

“She’ll leave you. That’s what she does.” Neal’s voice was between a whimper and a whine, a pathetic sound befitting the creature he was. 

A light knock at the door prevented Killian from responding. Killian’s heart squeezed in his chest, he knew what that knock meant. 

“Goodbye, Neal.” Killian dug his hook into Neal’s chest piercing his black heart. Neal pulled in one last wheezing breath before Killian grabbed a fistful of his hair. “I can’t say you’ll be missed,” Killian growled as he pulled. 

Killian kicked the heap of Neal’s body before turning on his heel and leaving the cell. David stood outside of the door. He nodded slightly to Killian, a small smile tugging at this lips, as Killian emerged from the room. Pulse racing, Killian turned to the guard he’d posted at the door, “Will, dispose of the tosser and ensure he is properly turned to ash.”

“Yes, sire.” 

“Good man.” Killian made his way back to his room in the best spirits he’d been in all week. 

Emma was waking.

#cssns23 #vampire!Killian #witch!Emma #Emma x Killian #Emma Swan #Killian Jones #Captain Swan #CS AU fanfic #CS modern AU fanfic #OUAT AU fanfic #inspired by Stay A Spell #ouat captain hook #killian x emma #cs fanfic #once upon a time #ouat #cs ff #art by cocohook38

[shady-swan-jones]

Untie Me | captain swan fic | office romance | mature | 1/5 | 1.3k | in progress

“How about italian?” And thus it begins, without ceremony or preamble. The work day ends, dragging the last poor souls into overstaffed trains and bouncy buses and Killian swings by her office waiting for her to gather her things and they go to dinner.

It becomes their unspoken tradition. Until he leaves.

Read on Ao3

#captain swan #ouat #cs ff #cs fic #cs au #cs modern au #ouat ff #ouat fic #emma swan #killian jones #my fics

[myfearless-love]

Fields of Freedom - Chapter 1.

SUMMARY: In a twist that even her inner circle couldn't predict, Emma abandons the urban hustle for the enchanting embrace of farm life, spurred by an unexpected inheritance. Armed with determination but little agrarian know-how, she enlists the help of her mysterious neighbor, Killian Jones. What starts as a simple offer of farming expertise blossoms into a harvest of support that neither Emma nor Killian saw coming. Turns out, amid the sprawling fields, it's Killian who secretly yearns for a helping hand in the delicate dance of life.

Words: 6.8k

TW: domestic violence

Chapters: 1/2

Buy me a coffee if you like :)

Read on: AO3 or FF.net

Forgot to tag some folks who might be interested: @anmylica @elfiola @zaharadessert @gingerchangeling @undercaffinatednightmare @jrob64 @teamhook @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @mie779 @winterbaby89 @tiganasummertree @stahlop @rylieblu @ultraluckycatnd @eddisfargo @booksteaandtoomuchtv @laianely @hollyethecurious @resident-of-storybrooke @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @captainswan-kellie

#cs ff #captain swan #emma x killian #captain hook #ouat ff #emma swan #killian jones #ouat #once upon a time #cs fanfic #modern au #farmer!Killian #New Yorker!Emma #niki writes

[kazoosandfannypacks]

"Last Chance" by kazoosandfannypacks

Pairing: Captain Swan Rating: General Word Count: 1K Summary: Killian had been hoping to tell Emma about his feelings for her at some point this Christmas break, as their friends visited with her brother. As the holiday came and went, Killian feared he may have missed his chance. Fortunately for him, one last Christmas decoration has yet to be put away- and it may be just what they need to break the ice. Tags: au, fluff, captain swan, one shot, modern au, christmas, snowing, first kiss, oneshot, college au Author's notes: This one's based on a prompt that @everything-person sent to the discord a while back! It was probably jsut after Christmas when it was sent, and I wrote it not long after that, but it sat in my drafts for a while. After a poll revealed y'all wouldn't mind a Christmas fic in May, I've decided today would be an awesome day to post it. I hope you guys enjoy it! Shoutout to @booksteaandtoomuchtv for betaing! Taglist:@zahara@kmomof4@jonesfandomfanatic@booksteaandtoomuchtv@jrob64@tiganasummertree@anmylica@teamhook@undercaffinatednightmare@gingerchangeling@lonelyspectator@caught-in-the-filter  @ultraluckycatnd  @cs-rylie @silver-the-phoenix @pawshapedheart  [if you’d like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!] Also on Ao3!

 Killian smiled at Emma across the room as she took down the decorations on the tree, just like he'd smiled at her when she'd helped put them up, and like he'd smiled at her when they'd helped her sister-in-law make cutout cookies, and when they'd all gone caroling and got hot chocolate afterwards, and when they exchanged gifts on Christmas morning, and when they all sat down for a Christmas dinner- and really, like he'd been smiling at her since the day he met her at a campus-wide fall festival- one that he'd almost decided not to attend; one that she'd've skipped out on if her friends hadn't dragged her along.

 But how fortunate was he that he'd gone, and that he'd somehow fallen in with her friend group there, and how readily they invited him to join them at various activities afterwards. Already they'd celebrated a few birthdays together, set up a trunk for trunk-or-treat, gone on a few hikes- and now they'd even celebrated Christmas together.

 It really was kind of Emma's brother to invite him and some of their other friends to stay over the week for Christmas. It was nice to get away from the dorms for a bit to celebrate a small town Christmas.

 It also would've been the perfect opportunity for Killian to tell Emma how he felt about her. Christmas magic in the air, blanket of snow across the town, the lights, the excitement, the merriment, the wonder- but as Killian helped her brother, David, take down the last string of Christmas lights, he realized he'd probably missed his chance at a Christmas miracle. Tomorrow they'd head back to school, back to classes and teachers and homework- back to normal.

 And, unfortunately for Killian, his normal life only involved liking Emma from a distance.

 "And it looks like another family- and friends- Christmas is officially in the books." David said, wrapping up the last string of lights.

 "Thanks for having us," Killian said.

 "Our pleasure," David said, "the more the merrier."

 "Allow me," Killian said, taking the string of lights from David, "you've already done more than enough for us."

 "Alright."

 A bright green tote labeled "XMAS LIGHTS" sat just between this room and the living room- where Emma had been taking the last of the decorations off the tree. Killian wondered if he could steal another glance at Emma without anyone noticing, but his glance revealed she was coming that way, with a string of lights of her own to put away.

 "Here," Killian said, walking past the tote to take the string of lights from her.

 "I can get it," she said, holding out the string of lights at arms length away from him.

 "It's really no trouble at all," Killian said. He stood in the doorway between her and the box of lights, and when she tried to walk past him, he sidestepped into her path. She tried again, and he blocked her again, and again, and the same result.

 She sighed as she handed him the bundle of lights. "You really are taking the fun out of this."

 "Am I?" Killian asked with a smug smile.

 Mary Margaret interrupted their conversation to yell something past them both, to David.

 "Oh, David! We still need to take the mistletoe down too!"

 Killian knew which doorway the mistletoe hung in almost too well- he'd seen David catch his wife standing there a few too many times- and it happened to be the very same doorway that Killian and Emma were now standing under.

 "No," Emma said, "I already…."

 She looked up at the ceiling almost confused, like she hadn't expected the mistletoe to be right where it had been for the last two weeks, so much so Killian almost didn't expect it to be there either. But Killian looked up too, and sure enough, there was the mistletoe, right above himself and Emma Swan.

 "This is almost too good to be true," Killian thought. Fate had given him one last chance at a Christmas miracle.

 "I thought I took that down," Emma said.

 Killian swallowed the lump in his throat- it was now or never.

 "Swan?"

 "Yeah?"

 "We're under the mistletoe," he said, trying not to chicken out as her eyes met his, "and there's this tradition…."

 "Do Christmas traditions still count after New Year's?" Emma asked.

 "I sure hope so." Killian thought.

 "The last chance of the season," he said, "may I?"

 Emma smiled and nodded, and Killian's heart skipped a beat as she said, "Yeah."

 He closed his eyes and leaned forward, meeting her lips with his for the most perfect moment of his life. Her lips touching his was like a meteor shower, or a firework- beautiful, entrancing, dangerous- and done and over with way too soon. He pulled away, smiling, wishing he could've made that moment last longer, but not wanting to push her further than she was willing to go.

 He thought his heart was beating so loud she could probably hear it, but realized instead that the sound was their friends clapping. He didn't turn to look at them though- in that moment, all he wanted to see was Emma.

 "Is that the best you got?" Emma asked.

 "What?" Killian asked.

 "It's like you said," Emma said, taking from his hands the bundles of lights that had gotten them into this beautiful mess in the first place. She threw them aside, probably landing them somewhere near the tote they belonged in.

 "What?"

 "'Last chance of the season-'" she said, "might as well make it a good one."

 She placed her hands on his neck, stood up on tiptoes so her lips were parallel with his, then whispered, "May I?"

 Killian couldn't get out much more than a nod and a breath that sounded almost like a "yeah," not even seeing this moment coming in his wildest daydreams- Emma Swan asking to kiss him.

 She slid her hands down to his collar and pulled him closer, drawing his lips down into hers in a kiss that blew the last one out of the water.

 He placed his hands on her waist, trying to experience everything he could in this moment- his lips exploring hers, her body in his hands, the lingering taste of gingerbread in her breath, a subtle pine smell, her warmth- holding her closer than he'd ever dared dream she'd let him. He was so lost in the moment he didn't even hear their friends cheering around him as he wrapped one of his hands further around her side, resting her neck in his other, pulling her into a dip and holding her as tightly as he could, pulling her even closer as he kissed her.

 For the past three months he'd been watching her from a distance, wishing he could tell her how much she meant to him, wishing he could even just take her hand, ask her to get coffee, hold her at a dance, walk her back to her dorm and kiss her goodnight. And now that he had her in his arms and had her lips on his, he had three months of catching up to do, and one kiss to do it in. Every moment spent pining from a distance equalled another ounce of passion and love he needed to communicate in this kiss.

 But as all good things have to, this kiss came to an end. Emma pulled away, her hands still on his neck, her eyes still sparkling in reflection of his, her breath still lingering on his lips. They both breathed heavily, still lost in their own little world a moment longer, until he gently stood her upright again.

 "Wow," he whispered, hoping his voice wouldn't be drowned out by the cheering of her friends around them. "Swan, that was…."

 "I know," Emma whispered, a look in her eyes that said it still wasn't nearly enough.

 But she shook her head and blinked back to reality, and he as well noticed the crowd of spectators around them. Then he looked back down to Emma, her cheeks flushed with the most perfect shade of red he'd seen that whole Christmas season.

 She smiled as she let go of him, albeit a bit awkwardly, and he watched her walk away from him, not taking his eyes off her until she'd walked out the back door and disappeared from view. The rest of the group, apparently, had decided the show was over and got back to whatever they'd been doing before Killian's life changed forever like that.

Killian ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, leaning against the doorway to brace himself and his thoughts. He'd just kissed Emma Swan. He'd practically made out with her- and if he could do that, what was stopping him from finding a moment with her later, telling her how he felt, asking her if she wanted him to be something more to her.

 He smiled as he took down that fateful mistletoe plant, now filled with hope that maybe things wouldn't be so normal when they got back to school- or maybe normal would be something even better now.

 Maybe he hadn't missed his chance with Emma after all.

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