Kim. USA. Captain Swan is my OTP and they got me back into reading & writing fanfic. This'll be mostly CS related, but I also love Snowing, Outlander and This is Us. Preds fan. Music lover.
Full disclosure: this month got away from me and I’ve been under the weather for a lot of it. I’d had another story I meant to post instead, but it wasn’t cooperating. So I put this one together instead. Then I was having some technical difficulties, but better late than never right? This is a short fluffy family AU where Emma thinks back on when she first met Killian. Not my best, admittedly, but I hope that it at least makes someone smile.
AO3
It looked like a scene taken right out of the pages of a fairy tale. The ground is covered with snow and the trees behind the ice skating rink are full of lights. There's hot chocolate being sold at one stand and hot cider at another. A couple of food trucks serving a number of delicious treats are nearby. All around are couples and families with children of all ages. From the babies bundled up in snowsuits all the way up to the teenagers who are too cool to hang out with their parents with kids of nearly every age in between. The ice skating rink is full of skaters, from the wannabe hockey players and figure skaters to the people barely able to stay upright. There's music playing and people laughing and it's as if they're all trapped in some kind of winter wonderland.
A pretty little girl of five was standing a few feet away from the ice skating rink, her long blonde curls spilling down her back. Her cheeks are pink from the cold making her look like more of an angel than usual. Her sparkling blue eyes are looking at the rink with a mixture of awe, curiosity and a hint of suspicion. One of her mitten covered hands is holding on to her mother's. The other is absently playing with the ends of her scarf. A smile appears on her face as she spots a handsome man with dark hair and eyes the same shade of blue as her own out on the ice. Everyone always tells her that she is the spitting image of her mother, save for those blue eyes.
"Alright there, lass?" Her father grinned as he skates over to the edge of the rink. "Are you ready to give it a go?" The child bit her lip, looking a bit anxious now. She so wants to venture out onto the ice like all the other kids, but she hasn't quite worked up the nerve just yet. Opting to watch safely from the sidelines with her mother instead. She's making progress, though. The first time they came to the rink, she didn't even want to put on ice skates, let alone go out onto the ice. This time she was determined. She looked down at the skates she's wearing before looking back up at her father.
"I don't want to fall," she said in response. Her father's smile softened as he stepped off the ice and closed the gap between them, leaning down to bring himself closer to her level.
"My darling Hope, do you really think that I would ever let you fall?" he asked, his voice warm.
"Well..." Hope drew out the word, unable to keep the smile from spreading across her face. "I guess not."
"She guesses not," her father said, letting out a dramatic sigh as he looked up at her mother, his wife, with a twinkle in his eye. "She wounds me so. I'm afraid my feelings have been hurt. I might never recover from this." He pressed a hand to his heart, making his wife roll her eyes as she smirked.
"Daddy's being silly, isn't he, baby?" The woman squeezed her daughter's hand in reassurance. "But he's right. Daddy would never let you fall."
"Not ever?" Hope asked.
"Never ever," her father confirmed. "Do you know what, little love? I taught Mommy how to ice skate when she was just about your age."
"You did?" Hope asked, looking back and forth between her parents.
"He did," her mother confirmed, smiling at her husband. "He was a very good teacher."
"Aye, that I was," her father agreed. "I taught her and I can teach you too. All you have to do is trust me," he said, holding his hand out to his daughter. "Okay?"
"Okay," Hope agreed, dropping her mother's hand and grabbing his.
"Okay." Killian Jones shot his wife a grin before leading their daughter over to the ice skating rink, nothing the way her small hand tightened on his and giving her a small squeeze in return.
His wife, Hope's mother, Emma watched the two of them step onto the ice with a smile on her face and found herself thinking back to the first time Killian led her out onto a different ice skating rink.
Killian Jones was seven years old when he first spotted the blonde little girl who would one day become his wife. It was on a day very much like this one. He'd gone to the ice skating rink with his older brother Liam, who had predictably left him to his own devices while he skated with his friends. That was their arrangement. Liam would agree to taking Killian along to the ice skating rink whenever he went, but Killian was to pretend that they didn't know each other.
Of course, having said arrangement didn't guarantee that Killian would always abide by it. He was the younger brother, after all, and in his opinion part of his duty as the younger brother was to annoy Liam as much as possible. His main duty, even. Whenever Liam got mad at him, Killian would just say that he was just doing his job.
On this fateful day, however, Killian was more than content just going about his own business. Even pesky little brothers have to take a day off every now and again. So he was out on the ice skating all by himself when he noticed the little blonde girl standing by one of the entrances, all alone...
Five-year-old Emma Swan had been so excited when her foster mother announced that she was taking all the kids to the ice rink for the afternoon. As far as foster parents went, the couple Emma was currently staying with would turn out to be some of the best. The house was kept clean and there was always plenty of food to be had. And this couple, while not what anyone would ever call affectionate, were nice enough. Emma had never had a foster parent take her ice skating before.
Okay, so her foster mother had just dropped them all off with the promise of returning to get them in a couple of hours, but even still. Emma suspected that she just wanted the house to herself for a little while and she couldn't blame her. The important thing was that Emma was going to get to ice skate for the first time in her life. Her foster mother had even given them money for the skate rentals with a little extra for a snack. That was more than enough, as far as Emma was concerned. The oldest of the foster children was tasked with getting skates for everyone.
Unfortunately, any hopes of having any of the other foster children teach Emma how to skate were dashed when they all hurried out to the rink while she was still focused on tying her skates. It wasn't that she didn't know how to tie them; it just took her longer than the others. A couple of the other kids snickered at her slowness, but who cared about them anyway?
Or so that was what Emma told herself. The truth was that she did care. All around her were people having fun and there she was being laughed at because it took her longer to tie her skates. It hurt more than she was willing to admit. She tried to shake it off though. The important thing was that she was at an ice skating rink for the first time in her life. Her skates were tied and she was ready to skate.
Mostly ready.
Kind of ready.
Not even close to ready.
Emma chewed on her lip as she watched all the skaters out on the rink. All of a sudden the thought of venturing out there all by herself was overwhelming. Just walking to the rink had been an experience. She'd made it to one of the entrances, though she'd wobbled quite a bit in the process. Now she couldn't imagine how she'd manage the ice.
"Alright there, lass?"
The question made her jump. She'd somehow missed the boy who had just skated over to her. Now she looked over at a boy who looked to be a little older than her with messy dark hair that seemed to go a bit in every direction. He spoke with an accent that Emma hadn't heard much of and she was startled to realize that he had some of the bluest eyes she'd ever seen.
"I'm alright," she answered, somewhat defensively.
"If that was true," the boy said conversationally, leaning up against the rail. "You'd be out here. But you're over there." He grinned when she didn't respond. "You don't talk too much, do you? That's alright. My brother Liam says I talk too much. He's the doofus over there," the boy said, gesturing towards an older boy who was laughing with his friends. "So what's your story then? Aren't you going to skate?" His smile disappeared when she remained silent. "Oh I get it. You don't know how, do you?"
"No," she admitted, quietly.
"Well then," he said with a nod. "You should learn. I'll show you how."
"Why?" she asked, somewhat suspicious of this strange boy before her.
"Why not?" he retorted with a shrug. Later, he would tell her that the truth was that he'd been drawn to the lonely little girl she'd been back then. He'd been a bit of loner himself in those days and recognized the sad look in her eyes all too well.
"I don't want to fall," she told him, looking embarrassed.
"I won't let you fall," he said, seriously now. "All you have to do is trust me." He moved closer to the entrance and extended a hand to her. "Okay?"
Emma just stared at his offered hand for a few moments, her small brow furrowed in thought. Finally, she peeked up at his face, struck by the kindness she saw there. "Okay," she said, giving him a shy smile as she carefully put her hand in his.
"Okay." The grin was back on his face. "I'm Killian, by the way. Killian Jones. And you might you be?"
"I'm Emma," she told him. "Emma Swan."
"Mommy, Mommy!"
Emma blinked as the sound of her daughter calling out to her shook her out of her reverie. She looked up to see her daughter and husband skating towards her. "I'm doing it," Hope squealed in delight. She was still holding onto Killian's hand, but it looked like she was getting the hang of it.
"Good job, baby!" Emma cheered. "I knew you could do it"
"Come join us, Mommy!", Hope exclaimed, flinging out her free hand towards her.
"Yeah, come join us Mommy," Killian echoed, grinning. Emma couldn't help returning his grin with one of her own.
"I'm coming," she said, heading out to join then and taking Hope's hands in hers.
"Daddy didn't let me fall," Hope told her as the family started skating as a unit.
"I told you," Emma reminded her. "Daddy never lets his girls fall."
And it was true. It had taken a while for Emma to get the hang of ice skating, but Killian had always managed to catch her before she fell all the way down. She never hit the ice. She had, however, laughed like a lunatic when they'd gone to take a break and Killian somehow had forgotten the little ledge separating the ice from the floor and gone flying backwards. Emma had already let go of his hand at that point and had watched him go down in a heap of flailing limbs. When he landed, there was a look of pure and utter shock on his face.
"Aye, well," he'd squeaked, clearly trying to appear as dignified as possible even as his ears turned bright red. "That was me showing you how not to exit the ice skating rink." The giggle had escaped before Emma could stop it. Turning into a full blown giggle fit when he'd narrowed his eyes in response. It hadn't been long before he'd been unable to resist joining in. The two of them had laughed for what felt like forever and Emma was pretty positive that that was the hardest she had ever laughed in her life up until that point.
It would be the first of countless laughs they would share over the years. The first skate of many. The beginning of what would turn into a wonderful friendship that would last even as Emma was moved from one foster home to another. A friendship that would eventually bloom into love. A love that would result in a marriage and the beautiful little girl who now skated between them.
Summary: Full title is “Baby Oh Shit, It’s Cold Outside” It was supposed to be just a one-night stand, but nature had other plans in store for them…
Rating: M for mentions of Sex
Warnings: Foul language? Orgasm face? Absolutely tame by my standards.
A/N: Okay, so this is absolutely not what I planned on posting for today. Or, in fact, two days ago when my second CSJJ date was. Thankfully, the people in this group are amazing and when I said I would be unable to post on my original date, I was able to switch. Thanks again to @branlovestowrite for that switch, and to @csjanuaryjoy for existing, and to all the wonderful ladies in the CSJJ chat. I have deeply missed you all these last couple days and hope when training at the new job is done that a) I can hop back in more often and b) that I can finish writing the thing I was SUPPOSED to write for today.
This little fic was the card bit I wrote for @xpumpkindumplingx this year, who wanted something a little hot and I decided to dump snow all over it.
Find it on FFN and Ao3!
-x-
It was one of those nights – you know, the ones where you look across the bar and make eye contact with the only other sober person in the place.
Emma had looked down the length of the bar, locking eyes with a handsome stranger that looked like he was also assigned to Designated Driver that evening.
“Name’s Killian,” he told her as she pressed him up against the wall by the restrooms, a moment stolen while their friends waited for them back at the bar.
“Emma,” she said, breathless and smiling as he kissed her again. “Gimme your phone,” she commanded when they’d been gone almost officially too long.
He hands it over without a word, biting his lip and resisting kissing her again while she’s programing her number into his phone.
“Text me your address when you’ve dropped off your drunks for the night?”
“If I didn’t, I’d be a damn fool,” he tells her, and he accepts the heady press of her everything against him one last time before he finally makes his way to the restroom while she makes her way back to her friends.
Summary: Finding your neighbor drunk and nearly passed out in the snow isn’t exactly a great way to become friends. But that’s exactly how Killian Jones becomes more of a friend to Emma Swan than he has been in their years of knowing each other. And it’s exactly how the both of them learn to be a little less alone.
Rating: Mature-ish.
A/N: Thank you to the organizers of @csjanuaryjoy and all of the participants in our lovely group chat. Make sure to check out all of the other fics and pic sets coming this month! Another thank you to the anon who sent me the prompt that inspired this story!
Also on ao3 | here |
Tag List: @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @resident-of-storybrooke @profdanglaisstuff @jennjenn615 @mayquita @nikkiemms @bmbbcs4evr @ekr032-blog-blog @captswanis4vr @dreadpirateemma @branlovestowrite @teamhook @onceuponaprincessworld @captainsjedi
She hates the snow.
It’s cold and wet and people don’t know how to drive in it.
She gets that visibility is low and there’s black ice and all of those awful things that happen in the snow to make the driving difficult, but it’s not totally necessary for everyone to lose their collective shit. And they don’t just lose their collective shit over driving or the negative things about snow. They lose their collective shit over the positive things.
People bundle up and run out into the frozen water – but not, like, frozen water that’s as hard and as solid as ice. – and lay down in it, soaking their clothes and bodies and likely catching pneumonia from the way they’re literally sitting in freezing water. It’s pretty, but it’s ridiculous. And it loses its appeal right as someone throws a snowball at her that ends up having tiny pieces of rocks inside. That hurts.
Mostly, she just hates being cold.
Yes, the clothes are cute and she gets to wear her favorite boots and a beanie that has a little puffball on top, but she’s freezing.
All. The. Time.
And it’s not like they’re even experiencing negative temperatures here but still.
It’s New Years Eve and Princess Emma is attending the first celebration being thrown by her father, King James after the death of the former King, King George. Only her father is not James, he’s David, the twin brother of the real James who was killed in a battle just before King George’s death.
With a Prince from another land vying for her hand in marriage, and a kingdom on the brink of a rebellion, Emma must learn how to play the role of perfect Princess while also keeping an eye out for any hidden rebels.
Killian Jones grew up with his older brother Liam as a slave. It was by chance they were able to become apart of the Royal Navy, serving proudly under King George, until they were sent on a mission where they learned of their King’s treacherous ways.
Now, they are the head of the rebel army and while they’ve all rejoiced at the death of King George, the rumors of Prince James’ selfishness is known throughout the land and they know their celebration will be short lived.
With two stolen invitations to the new King’s New Year’s Celebration, the Jones brother’s dress themselves in disguises and head off to the castle.
“Keep your eyes open, little brother, and stay clear of the Royal’s. They, no doubt, know who we are.”
“How are we to know who they are? It’s a masked ball!”
“They are royals, Killian! They will make themselves known, trust me.”
“Emma, sweetheart, here is your mask. Your father wants us to blend with the crowd until midnight to let the kingdom know we are no different then they are.”
“Yes, mother.”
It takes only one look into the strangers emerald green eyes for Killian to become hooked. She’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen and he wishes for nothing more than to get to know her. He asks her to dance, but she refuses and just as he’s about to beg - he must spend more time with her - she wraps her fingers around his wrist and pulls him away from the crowd.
Killian whispers words of poetry to her, telling her how beautiful she is, how lucky he is to ring in the new year with her, and right before the year changes, she pulls him into a dark corner and kisses him.
Her lips are as soft as silk, and when she melts into him, he hums while trying to pull her even closer to his body. They kiss and kiss and kiss and just as he’s about to tell her his name and ask for hers in return, when they are interrupted by an older woman dressed in a red dress.
“Your parents are looking for you!”
His beautiful stranger is pulled away before he can react and Killian finds himself pushing through the crowd to follow them. It’s crazy… insane… he’s known her less than an hour, but they have a connection and he’ll be damned if he lets–
The woman in red pulls his beautiful stranger up the grand staircase and that’s when he sees the King and Queen greet them both with warm smiles and waves.
Time seems to slow in that moment and his stomach knots.
Killian blinks, the realization washing over him like waves at sea and he asks himself in a whisper, “Is she the princess?”
Emma looks back over her shoulder at the stranger standing at the foot of the stairs. She can still taste him on her lips and feel his arms wrapped around her.
“Aunt Ruby, wait!”
“No, no, it’s almost midnight!” Her aunt insists while pulling her up the staircase. “Your parents arranged for you and Prince Neal to celebrate together when the New Year starts!”
Holding back her groan, Emma looks back down the stairs, her beautiful stranger is still there and she stops to give him a wave goodbye. Only her brow furrows when she finds his face in what appears to be agony.
“His name is Killian!” Ruby hisses in her ear. “And he’s a Jones! The only brother of the Rebel leader Liam and your great enemy!”
Okay, I need to know how we organize this. Who was in charge of it last year? @pocket-anon? I can help organize it. I just need to pick someone’s brain if they’re not doing it this year. It’s my favorite. We need at least 30 people to sign up. Signal boost?
@katie-dub and @lenfaz organized it last year, but they’re swamped this year with real life. I don’t know if I’ll have anything to submit for one this year, seeing as how I haven’t written anything real in ages and real life has me stretched thin too, but if there’s enough interest from other writers, I can help too! Spread the word, guys, and if there’s enough author interest (either expressed by reblogs of this post or by directly messaging me or @natascha-ronin) maybe we can make this happen!
Tagging as many previous participants as I can find: @ussjellyfish, @captainswanandclintasha, @welllpthisishappening, @distant-rose, @effulgentcolors, @lifeinahole27, @rouhn, @justanotherwannabeclassic, @xemmaloveskillianx, @spartanguard, @pirateherokillian, @hollyethecurious, @forestiyari, @leiandcharles, @secret-captain-swan-blog, @youre-not-a-cat-youre-a-rat, @resident-of-storybrooke, @captainstudmuffin, @awkwardnessandbaseball, @mahstatins, @i-am-miapotter, @snowbellewells, @captainswanatk, @wingedlioness, @optomisticgirl, @caprelloidea, @warning-epic-nerd, @lassluna, @coaldustcanary, @losttalongthewayy, @nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable, @bethacaciakay, @swanslieutenant, @sambethe, @icecubelotr44, @shipping-goggles, @once-uponacaptain, @hookedonapirate, @xhookswenchx, @ahsagitarius, @thegladelf
Here’s my submission for @csjanuaryjoy January Joy. I’m so sorry that it’s late! I was having computer issues, but better late than never? This is an AU that didn’t turn out quite the way I wanted it to, but that’s okay. Thanks to @lenfaz for letting me participate.
Summary: Emma Swan had a problem and his name was Killian Jones. Killian, who was essentially candy in human form. Emma had always had a sweet tooth, ever since she was a kid. She had a weakness for sugar and unhealthy foods and now said love for sugar had spread to include Killian.
Word Count: 2,234
AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13522335
This had to stop. At least that's what Emma Swan told herself as she found herself grinning at the text message on her phone like a complete idiot. A text that consisted of exactly two words: what's up? That's it. That's all it said. But it was enough to have her smiling like a fool.
You're what's up, Jones, Emma thought.
She hadn't meant to fall into whatever this was she had going with Killian Jones. It had started off innocently enough. As innocently as one night stands could ever be, that was. Emma hadn't intended to go back to Killian's ship with him that first night.
Really.
It had just kind of happened. She'd had plans with her friend Mary Margaret Nolan that night, but then Mary Margaret's son had gotten sick and she hadn't wanted to leave him alone. Emma hadn't felt like spending the night alone at her apartment, so she decided to head down to The Rabbit Hole. The pub was a favorite among the Storybrooke locals and Emma had gone, hoping that maybe she'd run into another of her friends. And so she had.
Killian Jones was a relatively new addition to their sleepy little town. He was the Captain of a fishing boat and had decided he wanted to try his hand at fishing in Maine. Emma had known he was trouble the moment she'd seen him.
She'd been at the town diner, Granny's, eating lunch with Mary Margaret when she'd looked up to see one of the most gorgeous men she had ever seen in her life. Dressed all in black, Killian Jones just oozed trouble and sex. His dark hair was nice and thick and Emma had had the insane urge to run her hands through it. But it was his eyes that had taken her aback. His eyes were the bluest eyes she had ever seen in person, made all the more startling by the black eyeliner he'd been wearing. Their eyes had met and just like that, the air had seemed to spark with electricity.
His lips - he very nice lips, Emma had noted - had curved into a lazy, knowing kind of smile as he looked her over. Apparently liking what he was looking at. Emma had no idea how long she'd just sat there, trapped in an intense staring contest with a complete stranger. It wasn't until Mary Margaret had thrown a french fry at her face that Emma had come out of this strange stupor. Emma had caught a glimpse of the then stranger chuckling to himself as she forced herself to bring her attention back to her friend.
Emma had tried to keep her attention on whatever Mary Margaret was saying and had managed it for a few moments. She'd snuck another look up at the counter where the handsome stranger was still standing, reaching out to grab a bag of food that was being handed to him. He'd moved to go and their eyes met again and he'd had the nerve to shoot her a wink before leaving.
Well, there go my ovaries, Emma had thought to herself. She'd had the inexplicable urge to go dump some cold water on herself. All the while mentally kicking herself for not going up to talk to him.
She'd ultimately decided that it'd been for the best. That man was trouble personified. Better not to go there.
Yeah, that was what she'd told herself and then she'd kept running into him. Him and Mary Margaret's husband, David, had struck a friendship up as oddly as that had seemed initially. And so Killian had wormed his way into Emma's little group of friends, much to her chagrin. She had been determined to keep things at a platonic level, shooting down all his efforts to flirt with her.
She'd succeeded...at least up until that fateful night at The Rabbit Hole.
She'd known that drinking with Killian when none of their other friends were there was probably a bad idea, but she'd done it anyway. She hadn't been able to help herself. They'd hung out at the bar for a while and then there'd been a point where it'd gotten too crowded and Emma had wanted to leave.
So they'd wandered the streets of Storybrooke for a while. Eventually winding up at the docks and from there heading to his ship. He'd stumbled over his own feet and had nearly toppled backwards into the water. Would have if Emma hadn't thrown her arms around his waist and pulled his body flush against her own.
Her cheek had ended up against his shoulder and then she'd made the fatal mistake of looking up at his face. Bringing her lips within mere inches of his. When her eyes met his now heated gaze, she felt that now all too familiar jolt of desire. Their close proximity making it all the more intense.
"It's about bloody time," he'd practically purred as his eyes drifted to her mouth. She watched him flick his tongue at the corner of his mouth and found herself biting her lip in response.
"Please," she'd said. "You couldn't handle it."
"Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it," he'd countered. For a moment Emma had simply looked at him. She probably never would've found the courage she'd needed to do what she'd done next if it hadn't been for the alcohol flowing in her system. She'd grabbed the lapels of his jacket done what she'd wanted to do from the very first moment she'd seen him. She'd kissed him.
The kiss had been so lusty and so hot and Emma had felt it all the way down to her toes. It'd been so much better than she'd dreamed it might be. She dimly remembered feeling like he'd been right in that she couldn't handle it.
The kiss had ended and upon pulling back enough to see how utterly wrecked he'd looked, she'd then concluded that neither one of them had been able to handle it. "That was..." He'd said, unable to tear his eyes away from her lips.
"A one time thing," she'd said, knowing it was a lie the moment the words had left her mouth.
"Like hell it was," he'd growled, sending a thrill down her spine. His lips had been back on hers before she'd been able to respond and she'd quickly forgotten why she'd ever thought this was a bad idea. It'd been extremely clear to her in that moment that there was absolutely nothing bad about the feel of Killian's lips against her own. And dammit, she'd been tired of resisting.
They'd eventually made their way onto his ship. All the months of longing and sexual tension between them had come to a head. As soon as Emma had walked onto his ship, she'd known that she wouldn't be leaving until the next morning.
She'd been right. And though she'd tried to tell herself that it had been a simple one-night-stand, she'd known that it wouldn't be.
Right again.
It had now been over two months. Fall had long since turned into winter and Emma found herself spending more and more nights with Killian. She didn't know how to describe what it was between them. Mary Margaret kept insisting that Emma had fallen in love with Killian; something that Emma furiously denied. She was not in love with Killian Jones. He was a friend that she had sex with on a regular basis. That was all.
Really.
Emma wasn't in love. Certainly not. She'd sworn off falling in love after her last broken heart and that was one vow she intended to keep. She was not in love with Killian Jones.
See, she figured that if she kept telling herself that that it would somehow keep it that way. So what if she had to remind herself of that fact - it was a fact, damn it - more and more often?
She had a problem, that's what this was. A problem and his name was Killian Jones. Killian, who was essentially candy in human form. Emma had always had a sweet tooth, ever since she was a kid. She had a weakness for sugar and unhealthy foods and now said love for sugar had spread to include Killian.
Emma could only imagine how Killian would respond to this little comparison. That didn't make it any less true. His kisses were like candy. Sweet and addictive and Emma couldn't get enough of them.
Which is exactly why she was currently grinning at her phone like a crazed lunatic. Or rather, like a sugar junkie about to get her fix. That wasn't so horrible, was it? Besides, his ship happened to be on her way home. So why not stop by to say hello?
Okay, so maybe Killian's ship wasn't actually on her way home. Though Emma supposed that if she just stopped by his ship for a kiss or two and then went home, it technically would be on her way home. That's how she justified it to herself, anyway. She would just swing by for a few of his addictive kisses and then she'd go home.
Really.
"Morning, love." Emma couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face as she felt an oh-so-familiar arm slide around her waist.
Okay, so Emma had totally intended to go home the night before. But she'd had to get her Killian fix and one kiss had led to another and another and that was the end of that. In Emma's defense, it had been freezing cold outside last night and why should she go back out in the cold if she didn't have to? The bed in the Captain's quarters was surprisingly comfortable. As was the man that Emma was currently snuggling back up against. Killian was nice and warm and Emma hadn't felt like leaving his embrace just to go out and freeze to death.
Besides, by that point she'd been a little too tired to go anywhere, thanks to their previous activities. Killian had effectively worn her out and Emma was having a tough time being upset about it.
"Morning," she mumbled back, closing her eyes against the feel of his soft lips on her bare shoulder.
Oh, she absolutely had a problem. Not that she could remember what that problem was while his lips drifted to her neck. Okay, so maybe Killian wasn't her forever. Maybe he was just her guilty pleasure and what was so bad about that?
"Emma." Heaven help her, the sound of her name of his lips was like candy. Just like his kisses.
Damn, her sweet tooth, she thought dimly as she rolled over so his lips could find hers. Emma couldn't help but think that she was in more trouble that she'd ever realized, but she was having a hard time caring. Especially once he began kissing his way down her body, that delicious mouth of his making it impossible for her to think about anything else.
"Killian." Now Emma's eyes closed at the feel of his tongue between her thighs. He took his time, leisurely licking her folds as if he had all the time in the world and the only thing worth caring about was her pleasure.
Okay, so maybe this was a little better than candy.
Killian Jones couldn't wipe the smile off his face some time later after he'd thoroughly ravished Emma. It was Saturday, which meant that the two of them could happily spend the day in his bed if they so desired. So he'd allowed himself the luxury of taking things nice and slowly, gently working her towards a peak and back again until he was certain that she was completely satisfied.
It hadn't taken long for Emma to fall back asleep afterwards and now she was curled up against his side, her head nestled on his chest. The way she was holding on to him made him think of a koala and the thought made him chuckle softly to himself. "Sleep well, my love," he murmured to her. Emma might be in denial about her feelings for him, but Killian's feeling for her were abundantly clear. He'd fallen hopelessly in love with her in what had felt like the blink of an eye. And though she might not be ready to admit it out loud, he knew she felt the same. He only hoped that he'd get to hear her say those three words sometime before his hair turned gray. There were days where he didn't think that day would ever come.
And then it happened.
"Killian," Emma mumbled in her sleep, attempting to snuggle even closer to him.
"I'm here," he said, quietly, stroking her golden hair with his hand to soothe.
"I love you."
Killian's hand stilled for the heartbeat or two as he let it soak in. Emma Swan had told him she loved him. Granted, she'd said it in her sleep, but that was enough. For now it was enough. He gave her a gentle squeeze. "And I you," he said, placing a soft kiss against her silky hair before indulging himself by sniffing it. Her hair always smelled so good.
Just like candy.
When she said his name, when she kissed his lips, when she held him close - Emma Swan was like candy. And he'd seemed to have developed quite the sweet tooth.
Happy Saturday, everyone! Here’s my submission for this year’s CS January Joy, inspired by Emma and Killian’s exchange aboard the Jolly in 7x02 and the realization that even after their wedding, this particular happy ending was still years in the making. Apologies for the angst, but I did do my best to deliver the “Joy” in January Joy in the end (despite being terribly rusty).
Special thanks to @katie-dub (congratulations on your newest little blessing, my friend!) and @lenfaz for spearheading this year’s @csjanuaryjoy. This piece would probably not exist without your efforts. XOXO
Find it on AO3 and FFN.
Summary: It’s been five years since they were married. Five years of trying. Five years of disappointment. Emma’s starting to believe she’s never going to get her second chance. But her pirate husband has a way of saying what she needs to hear. And life still has a way of surprising them both. (Captain Swan one-shot post 7x02. CS Baby. Angst & Fluff. Canon Compliant. Rated T.)
Previously, on Once Upon a Time:
“This isn’t an ending, Emma. There’s more to come.”
“But we don’t know for sure. What if I don’t get a second chance?”
“It’s going to be okay.”
* * *
A blanket of freshly fallen snow paints everything beyond the porch white, but the overcast January sky ensures it’s a dull kind of white. Cold. Bleak. Barren. Emma gives a plaintive sigh as she nurses her morning coffee and sits curled up on the end of the built-in seat that borders the bay window, her legs pulled up under her on the dark green cushion and her spine settled into a large throw pillow which is propped up between her and the side of the low, adjoining bookcase. She stares blankly out the window through the slightly withdrawn curtain, the scene a gauzy blur to her unfocused eyes, and clutches her mug with both hands like a lifeline, in desperate need of even the small amount of comfort she draws from the press of the warm ceramic against her skin.
Outside, the occasional passersby catch her attention: Grandma Hubbard with her faithful retriever. A couple of former Vikings out to shovel snow for hire. Ashley and Sean walking with Alex and bow-legged little Gus while Sean wears their newest baby sister, Ellie, snug against his chest. The baby’s wiggling limbs are clad in the fluffy pink fabric of her bunting, and the white poof of her hat is just visible over the edge of her carrier. Emma blinks and glances away, a lump forming in her throat. Maybe she should have huddled in Killian’s chair by the fireplace instead.
Captain Charming ficlet - David notices something has changed for his son (in law), as Killian and Emma prepare to welcome their first child.
For a man who regularly walked around a small fishing village in Maine in tight leather pants and eyeliner, Killian Jones could be remarkably subtle when he wanted to be.
But David noticed the change.
Killian turned down a beer during Sunday dinner on the farm, waving the offered bottle away with a winked. “Not tonight, mate, thanks.” and stuck to water instead. They ran into each other at the grocery store (again, Storybrooke was pretty damn small) and chatted amiably while David bought juice boxes and Oreos for Neal’s school lunches, crisscrossing each other to pick items off the shelves and talking about his plans to build a new chicken coop in the spring and Killian and Emma’s upcoming trip to Portland to buy things not available in town for the baby.
David was thrilled to become a grandfather again, and this time he’d actually be there from the beginning, the way he was supposed to be. He hadn’t told Emma yet, but he’d already talked to the woman who owned the stables down the road from his farm about getting a pony for the little prince or princess to be.
Killian filled his own cart with orange juice and yogurt, hot chocolate mix and frozen pizza, consulting the list on the phone propped up in the cart’s seat and bypassing the aisle with beer and wine completely. They went their separate ways in the parking lot, waving to each other before getting in their respective vehicles and each heading home to a wife and a love they had literally died for.
Worth it, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat.
He knew his son (in-law) felt the same.
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