For CS Halloweek 2021.
Fulfilling the prompts: Monsters/red (under a spell | mystery | “I’m not going anywhere” | bloodcurdling)
(though the only mention of monsters is that there finally are none lol)
Summary: Inspired by gifs of that scene in 6x01, a fic in which they actually get to finish what they barely started on the couch. Angsty and soft smut.
Rated: E; Words: 3174; read it on AO3
A/N: Shoutout and thank you again to the organizers of @cshalloweek for holding the event again.
Also huge shoutout and thank you to the wonderful @kmomof4 for betaing this when I finished it last-minute, and for fixing my run-ons. ❤️
———
He liked her red leather jacket.
Once an emblem of the walls she’d constructed in order to protect herself from the heartbreak she’d believed to be inevitable, her jacket had since become a symbol of the progress they’d made to overcome the walls together. They were simply another part of her, and he was grateful she trusted him enough to let him inside them. And the red provided a nice pop of color against his own black leather as well.
He liked her sweater, too.
A woven pattern with stripes of white above solid black, a light in the dark as she was for him. It was soft against his calloused palm as his hand slipped under her jacket, unzipped and open for him, and he supported the small of her back as she canted her hips and cradled him between her legs over the arm of the couch.
Softer still was her skin.
His fingers toyed with the hem of her sweater and slowly inched beneath it. Her laughter was contagious, a bubbling giggle as he slid his hand up her belly and brushed gentle strokes over her navel with his thumb, and he couldn’t help but press his smile to hers as if he could catch her contentment with a kiss.
“Killian,” she grinned, his name a playful plea on her tongue as it met his lips and teased inside. Gods, he always loved the way she said it.
He even liked her undergarments.
Modern and decorative, as delicate as he wanted to treat her though he knew she was anything but that. He lifted her sweater until the hem rested above her chest and guided her upright just enough so he could undo the clasps at her back as she’d shown him how to do. Letting her relax against the cushions once more, he tucked the tip of his hook beneath the tiny bit of ribbon at the front and raised it to reveal her breasts to him.
He liked those, too. Very much.
“So beautiful, Emma,” he praised. Surrounding one nipple with his lips, he gently sucked at her supple flesh, coaxing it to a stiff peak as his teeth scraped and pulled at the bud. His hand tended to the other until at last his mouth parted with a wet pop and they swapped sides. Tiny gasps filled the space around them as he slowly unraveled her without even touching where she needed him most. He began to rut against her, the contact between their clothed bodies doing little to sooth the eager ache behind the layers of denim and cotton.
Those, too. He liked her jeans.
He liked the way they hugged her ass so perfectly and left little to the imagination, skin tight over her legs as she taunted him every time she walked past him with a subtle but deliberate sway in her step. But he liked peeling them off of her even more.
As he continued to sate his hunger for her with his mouth at her breasts, Killian deftly flicked open the button of her jeans and tugged down the zipper until he could shimmy them down over her hips. He ran the curve of his hook along her panties but wanted to feel her wet warmth himself. Tugging the material aside with the tip of his metal appendage, he slid his hand along her skin and pressed a finger between her folds, rubbing her clit with his palm as he prodded her entrance and hummed with burning desire as she soaked his fingers and welcomed them into her slick heat.
Killian swallowed her gasp as his mouth returned to hers, muttering praises into their kiss as he fucked her with his hand. Emma cupped his face and held him close, her thumb brushing along his cheek as she gently scratched at the hair behind his ear, and it was all he could do not to melt into her touch. He broke away from her lips only to kiss her palm in a wordless thank you before turning back to them again. Curling his fingers in the way he knew she liked, he drank in her contented sighs and whimpered pleas and wished he’d already lowered his own trousers too, as his cock almost painfully strained against them.
“Forgive me, love,” he said with an apologetic tone but a promising look in his eyes as he slipped his fingers from her despite her encouragements to keep them there. “I need to feel you, Emma.” He covered her body in kisses as he removed her jeans the rest of the way and unfastened his own, shoving them down his legs and letting them pool around his ankles as he took his cock in hand, hard and more than ready, and coated himself in her arousal. With one steady push, he sank into her core with a satisfied groan, finding some relief as he buried himself inside her again and again, falling into a steady rhythm though his legs threatened to buckle beneath him at the overwhelming feel of her already clenching around his length.
“Fuck, Killian,” Emma moaned. He couldn’t help but smile as she reached for his necklace as it dangled above her, looking for something, anything, to hold as he thrust with purpose.
“Finally, we have the chance again,” Killian smirked, lacing his fingers between hers as he clasped the hand not holding his necklace and raised it above their heads, pressing it into the cushion of the couch. “You’ve been wanting another moment as long as I have, I can tell by just how wet you are for me. You make it so easy for me to fill you like this, because you want to be filled, don’t you?” His question was rhetorical, but she nodded anyway. “But you’re so fucking tight,” he gritted. “Relax for me, darling, I’ve got you. No monsters today, just a pirate who can’t get enough of his Savior, just relax.”
He slowed his thrusts against the urgent nagging of his own desperation and kissed her lips, her cheek, her jaw. His teeth scraped along the shell of her ear, nipping at her earlobe before dragging down the column of her neck. Catching the neckline of her sweater between them, he pulled it aside and latched onto the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. Emma tilted her head toward him with a gasp and a giggle and attempted to pull away, but he stilled her with the flat of his hook at her hip, caressing up her side before brushing her cheek and holding her still as he caught a bead of sweat at the hollow of her throat with his tongue and licked a devious stripe up to her chin. Even still, she remained tense, and he was determined to fix that.
“If you keep squeezing me like this, Emma, I’m not going to last much longer.” Killian tucked his arm under her thigh and lifted it, spreading her legs further apart to give himself better access. Even moving at his current pace was too much, agonizingly slow now and yet perhaps that only heightened the sensation of each languid slide with her fitted so snugly around him.
“S’okay,” Emma mumbled quickly as she chased his lips, clearly not wanting him to break their kiss again. “I want you. Before another curse hits. Before another threat to us. I want you.”
“You have me, Emma,” he promised. “I’m not going anywhere ever again.” After Emma’s pleading confession, Killian let some of his own desperation show. He ran the curve of his hook down and up her torso as his hips snapped faster, outlining her breast with the side of the metal pressed flat against her skin until he turned it and teased her nipple with fleeting flicks from the tip, drawing small, pleased gasps from her. “The only curses now are the ones I want to hear fall from your lips as I prove it to you, my darling.”
It didn’t take long for her to do just that, stutter streams of curses and pleas and yeses and Killians. He held her leg against the back of the couch, peppering kisses along the inner side as he plunged deeper still.
“What do you need, love?” he asked, a tender urgency in his tone. “How can I help you come?”
“Just—” she hesitated.
“Tell me, Emma.” He met her gaze with a soft plea in his. “Please.”
“I don’t—I don’t know if I can right now,” she answered quietly. “I’m overthinking, I guess. Just—just hold me, Killian.”
“Alright,” he said, carefully pulling out of her and tucking his arms beneath her, lifting her into his embrace. “We’re alright, love.”
“What are you—” Emma started. “Please, you can still—”
“Not without you, darling.” He kicked off his jeans the rest of the way so he wouldn’t trip and spun them both, sitting on the couch with her in his lap. Wrapping his arms around her, he supported her back with the flat of his hook and gently stroked her hair with his hand, placing chaste kisses to her forehead. “I’m here, Emma,” he reassured her with every kiss. “I’m here. I’m here.”
“I know,” Emma almost whispered. She wrapped her fingers in his necklace and placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. “I know, I just… I thought I lost you.”
“I know,” Killian echoed. He knew she was looking for his heartbeat beneath her palm, and he hoped she couldn’t feel how it broke for her as he clasped his hand over hers and searched for ways to comfort her. “I told you, I’m a survivor. And apparently,” he smirked, “we’re even favored by the gods. So you’ve nothing to worry about anymore.”
Emma scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“I mean it, Emma. Look at me.” He lifted her chin with the side of his finger, caressing her cheek when she met his gaze. “You’ve got me. And I, you. Here and now. This is real. We have each other.”
Killian gently rocked Emma at a soothing pace. As they sat like that in each other’s embrace, her head tucked under his chin as if she couldn’t get close enough to him, Killian quietly started to hum a song he’d used to calm himself for many years and hoped would help her now. He continued to press kisses and reassurances to her head as he repeated the tune—I’m here, I’m here, I’m here—until at last he felt her relaxing in his arms.
“Killian?”
“Hmm?”
“Could we try again?” Emma looked up at him, and he met her pleading eyes with his.
“Of course, if you’d like.” Hoisting her up before he stood, he spoke as he carried her, “But we’ll do it right. You deserve love, Emma. After everything, you deserve thoroughness, not a quick tryst on the sofa.” He set her on their bed, gently pushing her jacket off her shoulders and helping her remove it before toying with the hem of her sweater. “Let’s get this off you, love.” Sliding his hand and hook beneath it, he glided them up her sides and lifted the garment over her head, slipping it down and off her arms along with her bra. Then he started on his own clothes, setting his jacket aside next to hers before beginning to work on the buttons of his vest.
“Let me,” Emma said quietly, standing to help him remove his shirt. “You deserve love too, Killian. You’re the one who—” She trailed off, but he knew what she meant. “You deserve so much better than what you’ve been through.”
Once they were both fully bared, Emma reached up and pulled Killian into a deep kiss, tender and sloppy and desperate. He eagerly reciprocated as he backed her toward the bed, guiding her backward until the mattress was beneath her. Parting from her lips, he sank lower, trailing his mouth down her body until his knees hit the floor and his face aligned with his goal, her legs already spread for him in invitation.
“Are you sure, Emma? We could just rest if—”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Emma answered. “Please, Killian, I want you.”
“And I, you.”
Killian lightly stroked Emma’s inner thigh with the back of his hand as he kissed the other from her knee to the apex. Her muscles twitched beneath his touch, anxious and sensitive, but when his breath ghosted over her center as his mouth set to work just below her clit, Emma finally managed to relax a little.
“I’ve missed your taste,” he sighed against her wet flesh as his tongue coaxed forth her arousal. “I could happily live on nothing else.” Nudging her clit with his nose as he sucked and licked at her core, Killian enjoyed the small gasps Emma released. “Would you let me stay between your legs like this, Emma?”
“Mmm,” she moaned, “mmhmm.”
“I appreciate your hospitality, darling,” he chuckled. “Thank you.” As he tested her entrance, she easily opened for his tongue, arching her back as he thrust it inside her. His hand and hook held back her legs as they threatened to close of their own volition at the already overwhelming sensations he was giving her.
“Relax, love. I’m here,” he reassured her as his fingers slowly inched closer to his mouth’s ecstasy. Gliding one between her folds, he prodded and sucked until she welcomed the intrusion easily. “I’m here, Emma,” he soothed again. “Let me in, darling. Please.” He stretched her gently until a second finger could smoothly slip inside her with the first, curling them both with each thrust, and she panted as he hit the spot she needed most. “There’s a good girl.” Killian knew Emma loved that particular affirmation, evident in the way she canted her hips to grant him better access as more of her arousal leaked onto his fingers and chin. “That’s it, Emma.”
“Killian,” Emma gasped his name as he sucked her clit and flicked it mercilessly with his tongue. “Killian, please,” was all she could manage to say as her hands anchored in his hair. She held his face against her as she rode his fingers and sought his mouth.
“That’s it, darling,” Killian muttered against her slick flesh as he continued to lick and suck and tease. “You’re such a good girl for me.” He angled his head as her legs pressed against his cheeks, his scruff scraping her soft skin in the best way and leaving burning streaks of pink in its wake. “You’re so pretty when you come. Will you let me see it, please?”
A string of curses left Emma’s lips as Killian brought her over the edge, the sensation so blissfully overwhelming as her hips bucked and her legs fluttered until she slowly floated back down from her high, feeling relaxed at last.
“You’re so fucking good at that,” she panted. Tugging his hair, she urged him to climb up their bed above her and cradled his hips between her limply spread legs. “Thank you,” she sighed with a smile before pulling him into a deep kiss.
“Mmm,” Killian hummed, caressing down her side and tracing the crease of her thigh with his fingers before taking his cock in hand. “Are you ready for me, love?” he asked softly, rubbing her clit with the tip.
“Yes,” Emma answered, stroking the hair at the nape of Killian’s neck, her thumb settling just behind his ear. “Please, Killian, yes.”
He kissed her again as he gently pressed inside her with shallow thrusts until at last he filled her completely.
“So perfect, Emma,” Killian breathed as he slowly increased the depth and pace of his movements. “Do you feel how perfectly we fit together, darling?” He teasingly nipped at her bottom lip as her jaw fell slack with breathless moans, both of them too caught up in the absolute pleasure of each other to do much else. “You’re so warm and snug around my cock. Staying so nice and wet for me. We are meant to be together, Emma. Always.”
Emma wrapped her legs around him, locking her ankles behind him as she pulled him into her arms. He hissed lightly as her fingernails dug into his back, a guttural groan interrupting the sound as the subtle pain merely spurred him on.
“Are you close?” she asked with a smile, her voice breaking as the force of his thrusts made the words catch in her throat. “I want you to come, Killian, just like this. Let me feel all of you. Please.”
“Gods, Emma,” he panted, snapping his hips with purpose. “Are you sure?”
“Mmhmm,” Emma nodded. “Yes, Killian.” She raked her nails down his back and cupped his ass in encouragement. “I—I felt so empty without you,” she practically whispered, tears beginning to well in her eyes as she fought the storm of emotions still raging within her. “Make me feel full, Killian.”
He thrust more frantically then, fluctuating between rapid pivots and deliberate slams as he followed his own urges.
“Will you come with me, Emma?” Desperation laced his voice as he asked the question, his fingers finding her clit in an effort to bring her with him.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly, “but it’s okay. I just want to feel you, Killian. I need to feel you.”
He covered her body in kisses as he sought his release, pressing his lips over and over again to her jaw, her neck, her breasts, and trailing back up to her mouth as he felt the tension finally snap. He moaned her name against her lips as he granted her eager request, pouring his release inside her and pushing it deeper as it coated his pulsing cock. When he finally stilled, Killian rolled aside and collapsed next to Emma on their bed, thoroughly sated as he caught his breath. She turned to face him, touching her hand to his cheek and gently brushing her thumb over his skin.
“I love you, Emma Swan.” Killian tipped his head and placed a tender kiss on her palm. “I’m never going to leave your side again. I promise.” A tear escaped Emma’s eye as she met Killian’s genuine gaze.
“I love you too, Killian Jones.” Arching forward, Emma kissed him again, passionate and deep. “And you better not,” she joked, making them both laugh, something neither of them had been able to do in quite some time.
“We may never even leave this bed, love,” Killian smirked. “Not until I’ve made you come at least twice more, anyway. I’ve a reputation to maintain.”
“Oh, kidnapping the sheriff, are you?” Emma giggled, arching her brow as she returned to her back and raised her hands above her head, crossing her wrists. “Naughty Captain.”
“I never claimed to be anything else.” Killian sat up and straddled her stomach, reaching behind himself to touch her. “Now be a good little sheriff and follow my demands.”
“And there, half-obscured by a large crate and a row of the cannons, is what he assumes must be Emma. But there is nothing of the pretty young woman in this beast’s features. The eyes are a gleaming emerald, glowing out from the darkness, set against shimmery blonde fur. Though its wearing the same blue tunic as Emma had been, its seams stretched and bulging, that’s where the similarities end.
All traces of her are gone, and only a monster remains.”
-Caught in Irons
I am proud to present my artistic contribution to the @csrolereversal. Thank you to my wonderful author @swanslieutenant. Caught in Irons came out absolutely amazing and I am very excited for you guys to share in how much she’s spoiled me.
Read it on AO3 and Tumblr
Check out @cshalloweek for more spooks
Today’s @cshalloweek theme is ghosts, and while I haven’t completed my ghost story yet (current goal: @cssns 2020!), I thought maybe making a mood board for it would help inspire me to write a bit of it during spooky season!
Between Now and Nether :: Epilogue :: A CS AU [complete]
Title: Between Now and Nether by @artistic-writer [full res fanart]
Summary: On their way to a Nolan Charity Gala, tragedy befalls Emma and Killian who is given just seven days to set things right. Can he make Emma believe and escape the Nether before he is lost forever?
A/N: Here lies the final chapter of Between Now and Nether! I am actually crying as i post this, but that might be the hair dye (bye bye blue hair!). The journey with this fic as one of my only completed CS MC’s has been a fun one, with some many of you sending me comments of loveliness (and some not so much #sorrynotsorry). Behold - daddy!killian feels!
I would like to AGAIN thank @kmomof4 for betaing this entire project like a boss - mama K, I love you so much and at points, I have been glad for the ocean between us. Not that i feared for my life or anything ;) If any of you want, Krystal has this ability to describe a chapter in a single gif, so go ask her opinion before you read it :)
@hollyethecurious my wonderful friend, fellow January baby and kindred spirit when it comes to angst, whump and generally putting our beloved OTP through the ringer before their HE, I thank you. If it wasn’t for your muse and my muse sunning it up in far-off lands without us, this would have probably been finished before Christmas, but for all the time i faltered on details and needed a guiding opnion, you were there. You are my person and i would not hesitate to hide the bodies for you ;)
@resident-of-storybrooke thankyou for letting me watch you read a chapter live over webcam, even if you did tell me to ‘fuck myself’. I consider that kind of reaction a win win as an author, so yay! Here’s to fucking myself! *raises drink* And see, I told you, happy ending ;)
If you have requested a tag and have continued with this story, your name should be below - if it is not I am a terrible person and all i can do is apologise for losing you in the rabble, but know you are no less loved for seeing this through to the end! I read a post not that long ago, about fandom stats regarding people who read fics vs people who leave kudos and comments according to the target audience of the market at the time. In advertising, i believe the target is a 2% return in acknowledgment and you guys have made BNAN smash that, which a 4.8% return in views vs kudos! So, thank you all so much, i love you all!
There was a time, when he had felt the warmth leave his body and had been trapped in the Nether, that Killian Jones had feared he might never see the moment Emma Swan had made him the happiest man in the world. When she had agreed to marry him, none the wiser for his recent week long absence and struggle to get back to her, he was overcome with tears of joy that had burned lines so deep into his face that he thought he might still feel them.
Emma had looked beautiful. Her dress, tailored by the famous seamstress Belle French, was a marvel, elegant enough to be refined by itself and not take a single glimpse of the bride’s beauty away from the awe inspired crowd. The gathering was small, with just them, the Nolan’s and some other close family friends, and Killian will never forget the look of surprise on Graham Humbert’s face when he asked him to be his best man. With a puzzled expression but a smile of pride Graham had accepted, none the wiser why Killian had even asked him.
How could he have not? If it hadn’t been for him, Killian might never have made it back to his family and for that, he would be forever, albeit secretively, grateful.
“Don’t worry,” Graham laughed, watching Killian pace the hospital hallway. The thick tread of his work boots squeaked against the polished tiled floor as he paced, his hand brushing some wayward strands of hair from his forehead.
“They said it would be soon,” Killian huffed, feeling himself halt when Graham laid his hand on his shoulder.
“These things take time,” Graham smiled, offering his friend a reassuring nod.
Killian's hands shook as he patted Graham’s with his own, mirroring his small, tight lipped smile with his weaker one. Graham has been more of a friend than Killian could have ever imagined since the academy days. Once Emma had taken her maternity leave, the rookie had been assigned to his charge, Graham’s gusto and resilience in the face of the Gold case not going unnoticed by the commissioner.
He trusted him with his life as a colleague, partner and more importantly a friend. It meant a lot that he was the voice of reason right now as Kilian was slowly wearing a track into the floor of the off white, fluorescently lit corridor. It had been his makeshift home for the last six hours, the steady buzz of overhead lighting and the mechanical beep of machines his only company when after thirty six hours of active labor, Emma had passed out and been rushed to surgery.
“It won’t be long, I promise,” Graham offered again. Killian let his weight fall back against the wall, the paintwork scuffed across the white at waist height from the inevitable collision with hospital equipment.
“It’s been over three hours since our last update,” Killian barked angrily.
“She’s strong,” Graham said firmly, his own voice quivering a little in his throat.
“She’s the strongest person we know,” Killian mumbled sadly, sliding down the wall until he was crumbled on the floor, head hanging between his knees. Killian felt Graham’s hand on the back of his head but he did not look up.
“Mr. Jones?” A small voice called from the nearby room he had recently been evicted from. The woman was small and much older than him and he instantly recognised her as Emma’s midwife.
“Emma?” He scrambled to his feet, clawing at Graham’s arms as he pulled his friend up to his feet.
“Emma is fine,” The midwife smiled sweetly, stepping from the room and closing the door softly behind her. Killian brushed his palms over his rumpled shirt, the clamminess seemingly stuck to his skin with the rush of adrenaline hearing the words had caused. Emma, his Emma, was fine.
“And the baby?” Graham interjected from behind Killian who gulped hard, looking between the two of them and finally resting his expectant gaze on the midwife. She paused, an eternal beat of time that Killian wished he could have sped up just like in the Om.
“A beautiful baby girl,” she grinned widely. “Healthy and perfect in every way.”
Killian almost jumped into Graham’s arms when the man spun him around and pulled him into a crushing hug. Hours of fatigue finally caught up with him and his defenses crumbled, the hot sting of tears pricking at the corner of Killian’s eyes and blurring his vision. He buried his face into Graham’s shoulder, soaking his shirt with tears as two manly thumps of congratulations echoed through his back and chest.
“I told you,” Graham smirked with relief. Killian pulled away from him and looked at his feet whilst he wiped at his tears, running his hand down his face and letting his stubble, that was edging on a full beard, absorb the salty droplets.
“Strongest person we know,” Killian smiled exuberantly and shook the hand Graham offered him.
Graham raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching sideways into a smirk. “You haven’t met your daughter yet,” he reminded Killian.
As if a sudden realisation had hit him, Killian turned back to the midwife, his heart pounding in his chest and his face turning white. He had known about his daughter for far longer than anyone else, but now he was suddenly terrified of the very notion of seeing her for the first time. Since the wedding, which had happened so quickly after his return from the Nether, Killian had devoted so much of his time to make sure that Emma and the baby had everything they could ever need. Emma was constantly telling him to stop fussing, but Killian had not, insisting on the very best for them.
Before Emma was too pregnant, they had decorated the nursery. A splash of blue colour on the wall opposite the window turned purple in the sunlight as it spilled through the sheer, pink drapes they had hung. The dark wood of the furniture contrasted with the plush, white carpet and was accented perfectly with the soft, pink linen that was tucked into the crib. They had decided that since she would most likely be their little princess, that she should be treated like one, so Mary Margaret, who as it turned out was a great artist, had painted a fairytale castle and part of an enchanted forest on one of the walls. David had insisted on as many Disney toys as possible, filling the nursery with a huge Dumbo plush, a smaller Sven (because she WOULD like Frozen) and a tiny mini set of plushies from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.
“Would you like to meet her?” The midwife again shook Killian from his reverie and Graham nudged him in the back. “And I know Emma would love to see you.”
Killian nodded and when the midwife pushed the door open, he stepped through it almost silently. There was a soft yellow glow of light over Emma’s bed and she was sitting up with her arms crossed over her chest, the blankets tucked around her legs and a smile on her face. She looked exhausted, her alabaster face a stark contrast to the pink of her cheeks and the green of her eyes as she gazed upon their daughter in her arms.
“Hey, love,” Killian whispered as he stepped closer and his hand crept up to scratch behind his ear.
Emma looked up at him with the love only a parent can hold for their child plastered on her face, lighting up her eyes to an even more vibrant shade of emerald than before. She couldn’t hold back the tears as they fell, rolling over the apple of her cheeks silently and falling from her chin to the blanket below as she held out her hand for him.
They had no need for words as Killian gripped her fingers in his, letting her pull him towards her and immediately planting his lips to her brow. His other hand smoothed over the back of her head, holding it to his lips as he inhaled the medical scent of hospital from her hair and fought with the shake of his lips against her skin.
“I thought I’d lost you,” Killian sobbed, his emotional state already well and truly compromised before he had even laid eyes of his daughter. “Both of you.” Emma nudged her head harder against his face, loving the way his fingers tickled behind her ear and his lips ghosted over her temple.
“No chance,” Emma laughed, her voice watery in the back of her throat. She looked down at the tiny bundle in her arms and smiled harder. “We are not going anywhere.” Emma pulled her hand from Killian’s so that she could touch the tiny fingers of their daughter, the skin to skin contact something she had found so addictive already she thought she might never let her go.
“Oh, Emma, she’s so beautiful,” Killian grinned but was instantly taken by surprise when the boom of his voice made the tiny tot twitch in Emma’s arms. “She has your nose,” he whispered softly, cupping the pink baby bonnet covered head of his daughter in his gigantic palm.
“She has your ears,” Emma purred sweetly, tracing the outline of the baby’s elvish ears with the tip of her finger. The little girl scrunched up her face and balled her fist, grabbing the edge of the hospital issue blanket she was wrapped in before letting out a small, content sigh.
“Sorry about that, poppet,” Killian murmured at his daughter as he leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead. She was so small Killian thought he might break her, his hands shaking as he brushed his lips over her soft, warm scalp. “Daddy’s sorry.”
Emma caught his attention as he pulled away from the babe, clutching the side of his scruffy cheek and pulling his face to her mouth. She pressed her lips to his cheek, tiny prickles of stubble poking her lips and making them itch across her smile as she hummed against Killian’s face. “I like the sound of that.”
“Daddy?” Killian raised an eyebrow at her.
“It suits you,” Emma smiled at him, scooting sideways on the bed and inviting him to perch beside her with a pat on the starchy hospital blanket.
“Now it does, but what am I going to do when she is sixteen and hates me? I’m sure she will have a more colourful moniker for me then,” Killian laughed nervously, gazing back at his sleeping daughter. “She’s so perfect like this. Can’t she just stay this small and call me Daddy forever?” Killian reached out and touched the softness of the baby’s cheek, feeling his worries fade away when the side of her mouth curved up into a reflexive smile.
“I think she’ll always call you Daddy,” Emma told him softly, watching their daughter yawn in her arms.
“And what do we call this little mite?” Killian cooed at the baby. “We should give you a name, shouldn’t we?”
Emma pulled the baby closer to her chest when she started to wriggle in her arms, feeling the warmth of the tot through the material of the blanket she was wrapped in. “Something meaningful,” Emma beamed proudly. “Something that speaks volumes about who she is and what she means to us.”
Killian lifted his leg and finally perched on the edge of the bed, wrapping a big, strong arm around both Emma and the baby. His fingers traced lazy circles under the sleeve of Emma’s gown and goose bumps sprang up from her skin, begging for more of his touch. Emma was right, and she didn’t even know it. Killian was the only one with memories of his time in the Nether, even though things had adjusted somewhat in their favour since his return. Leroy was in prison and the threat from Gold was non-existent now that he was on his way to a supermax somewhere in the deserts of New Mexico.
The whole time he was away, Killian knew there was only one thing he knew, he needed to have, more than anything. One thing that he needed to make sure Emma felt, and continued to feel so that he could return home to them both. Without it, they would have drifted apart, Killian stuck without his family, and Emma in a forever state of sorrow. Hope is what kept them strong and what held them together.
“Hope,” Killian whispered lovingly, resting the side of his head of Emma’s. “Hope Jones.”
The second they were home with their brand new bundle of joy, Emma and Killian were invaded by the Nolans. David and Mary Margaret had children of their own, but it seemed that when somebody else had one, Mary Margaret was set into an instant state of brooding that gave David a worried look on his face. Killian couldn’t help but chuckle as David had held Hope in his arms, the smile of pride quickly turning into one of panic the second Mary Margaret had mentioned another.
Emma was feeling a little better. Sore, but better. She had spent an extra week inside of the hospital because of some slight complications following her surgery, but the doctors were now confident she would be okay at home. It probably had something to do with the incessant way Killian fussed over her whilst she was in the ward, but he didn’t care if they thought he was overbearing in the slightest. If they had any idea what he had gone through to get back to them both, they might have understood.
Even Captain Lucas had visited them both, bringing with her a little stuffed wolf cub toy for Hope and a fruit basket from the entire precinct for Emma. There was something about work that always lit up Emma’s face, and she was excited to see all of her colleagues, especially Graham who she had wanted to thank for being there with Killian at the hospital for so long. Things had returned to how they used to be, all three of them spending more time together socially and getting on without the animosity there once was. Killian felt like Emma had her old friend back, he had made a new one with someone he had no idea had so much in common with himself, and he was an invaluable crutch during the end of Emma’s pregnancy.
As he waved goodbye to another set of visitors and pushed the front door closed with a soft click, Killian breathed a hefty sigh. If having a child wasn’t tiring enough, constantly catering to the whim of guest after guest would be the end of him. Or so he thought, until he ascended the stairs on muffled footsteps, entered the nursery and saw the love of his life gently swaying with his daughter in her arms.
“Alright, love?” He called softly as he entered the recently decorated room. The faintest smell of paint lingered in the air, but it would soon fade and be replaced by the sweetness of baby products. “You look tired.”
“I’m exhausted,” Emma laughed a little, offering him Hope as a tiny, swaddled bundle of fleshy softness. The tot was wrapped tightly in the hospital blankets she came home in (Mary Margaret had sworn by its swaddling ability) with a pink cotton cap covering her delicate head. She was soundly asleep and didn’t even move as they transferred her between them.
“I still cannot believe we have a child,” Killian smiled, looking down at Hope in awe.
“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Emma fawned, watching her husband gently rock the baby in his powerful arms. Sliding her phone out of her back pocket, Emma swiped the camera open and let the lens focus on the scene before her. It was magical and maybe it was the hormones, but her eyes welled up with fat tears of pride as Emma clicked the button on the side of her phone, and the shutter sound signaled she had taken a photograph.
“She’s perfect,” Killian said softly, looking away from the babe for a second when Emma prompted him for a photo. “Our little poppet.”
Having a baby was nothing like Killian had imagined. The books could only prepare you for so much, and they most certainly did not take stock of the number of time you would wake up each night and deprived of sleep, inadvertently stick your finger into the side of a soiled diaper, or how utterly removed from society you would feel. If Killian was honest with himself, having a baby was very similar to being in the Om; Time moved so quickly it was gone before you even realised you had it to spare, and there was a constant urgency associated with being apart from Hope for too long.
Killian felt like he needed to be close to her at all times, not miss a single second, and sometimes even that was not enough. He wanted to watch her breathe, focus his entire energy on making sure that the tiny thumping of her heartbeat was normal and just as perfect as he had imagined. Which was why, at three-thirty in the morning every night since she had come home, he had crept into her nursery in anticipation of the inevitable wails that followed, just so he could hold her and let Emma sleep uninterrupted.
“There, there, poppet,” Killian cooed almost silently. He padded into the nursery barefoot, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips and his bare chest that was covered in a layer of almost black hairs on full display. He kept the lights off except for a nearby plug in bulb that emitted a soft, pink hued glow around the nursery that was never too bright but just enough to chase away the shadows.
Reaching the dark wood of the crib that he and David had painstakingly erected mere weeks before Hope’s arrival, Killian leaned over to rest his flattened palm to his daughter's chest. The tiny beat of her super fast heart pounded against his fingertips and as if by magic, she ceased her fussing and sighed heavily, the screwed up expression she always wore before crying disappearing instantly. Killian let his hand rest there for a full minute, just taking in the tiny creation before him.
Emma had been right. Hope had his ears, a smaller, pinker variation, but still undoubtedly curved at the bottom and tapering into an Elfish point. Along the outside of the shell was a fine dusting of black hair, something that the midwife had assured them she would grow out of, but Killian found endearing and unable to resist, often stroking them softly as she slept or nursed.
Hope’s hair was as black as night against the paleness of her skin, her tiny transparent eyelids hiding the ocean blue-green eyes that were the perfect mixture of both of her parents. They had been told they might change, but Killian felt confident that even with his dark hair, Hope had inherited everything else about her mother and her eyes would be just as beautiful as Emma’s and retain their emerald glow. She had a flush to her chubby cheeks, another of Emma’s traits, and a button nose that squeaked and snuffled with her quickened breathing. Even in the faint, cherise colouring that cast itself all around her, Hope was a vision of light, everything Killian had imagined she would be and more. She was perfect.
Killian leaned over the crib and scooped his hand under her soft skull, letting her head flop back into his palm like a warm pillow. At first, he had been worried about holding her, scared that he would somehow injure her with his strength, but he was starting to realise that babies were more robust than he had imagined and with his second hand under her diaper clad behind, Killian lifted her from the crib.
With a tiny whimper, Hope shifted in his hands. Just like her mother, she hated to be disturbed a moment sooner than she needed to be, and it made Killian smile at the thought. “Come now, my little poppet,” Killian soothed gently, holding her against his chest and slowly swaying a little from side to side. “There’s no need for that now.” Hope stiffened only slightly as Killian moved to a nearby rocking chair that faced out of the window, the square, padded cushion on the seat pink to match the rest of Hope’s room.
When he sat down, lowering himself so slowly the muscles in his legs tensed to hold him up, Hope relaxed against his chest, her face turned sideways with the steady beat of his heart under her ear like the rhythmic beat of a lullaby. Killian folded his arm over his chest, pining Hope’s tiny legs to his chest and supported her back with his other hand. Hope settled instantly, pinching a bunch of his chest hair in her fingers.
Hope let out a tiny wail, the sound catching in the back of her throat as she shifted her face against the coarse hair on Killian’s chest. Killian began to hum a lullaby his mother used to sing to him when he was a young boy, the words long forgotten but the melody as clear as day in his mind. He remembered it was an old sea shanty that his grandfather used to sing to her, the calming tune like the song of a siren to children. With a squeak Hope relaxed again, Killian’s hand moving slowly over the curve of her back and his chest vibrating with a low hum that seemed to calm her agitation. She would be due a feeding soon, but until absolutely necessary, Killian would leave Emma as long as he could.
“I know you will not remember this,” he began, inhaling the sweet scent of her in his arms. She smelled of baby powder and soap and Killian knew that once she aged a little he would miss it instantly. “But Daddy fought very hard to come home to you.” Hope let out another small squeal, her tongue clicking the roof of her mouth as she tried to suck an invisible teat. “Yes, I did,” Killian cooed as if he was answering a question she had posed and before he knew it a single tiny tear of happiness had rolled from his eyelid. “You made it so that your mother and I could talk between planes of existence, and even though you will never know what that means, you will always be the thing that gave me the tenacity to fight my way home.”
The tot wailed louder in Killian’s arms and he clutched her to his chest as he stood to his feet. “You are my light, poppet. You guided me through the darkness and back to the two people that I love most in this world.” Killian padded silently out of the room and down the hall towards their bedroom. Pausing outside of the door, he shifted Hope in his arms until she was laying on her back in the crook of his elbow, her legs instinctively lifting towards her chest and her arms stiffening, outstretched for the comforting curve of her mother’s breasts that meant food.
Killian wouldn’t mind the crying. He wouldn’t mind the sleepless nights and he wouldn’t mind the inevitable troubled teens that were sure to follow with a child who was the product of two parents who would fight, with everything they had, for what they loved and believed in. With a final, loving smile, Killian leaned forward and pressed his lips to Hope’s forehead. “You will never realise why I love you so dearly but it is because you gave me something, in name and in spirit, that kept me going. You gave me hope.”
CS Halloweek 2021 — Day 7: Spirit/White
(haunted house | betrayal | wicked)
@cshalloweek
(CS Haunted Mansion AU)
When hinges creak in doorless chambers
And strange and frightening sounds
Echo through the halls
Whenever candlelights flicker
Where the air is deathly still
That is the time when ghosts are present
Practicing their ghoulish delight
This idea is based on the Haunted Mansion movie.
Killian and Emma are realtors that find themselves wrapped up in more than they bargained for when they visit Mr. Cassidy’s home for what they think is just another potential sale. Little do they know, Cassidy has been long deceased after the unfortunate death of his fiancée—a fiancée he believes has been essentially reincarnated in look-alike Emma Swan, and he has every intention of winning her back, til death do they start.
For CS Halloweek 2021.
Fulfilling the prompts: Dance/grey (masquerade | honour | “you’re trembling” | enraged)
Summary: Vampire!Emma has her way with Killian against a wall.
Rated: E; Words: 1653 ; read it on AO3
A/N: Once again, huge shoutout and thank you to the organizers of @cshalloweek for holding the event.
Also shoutout and thank you to @ultraluckycatnd for betaing this for me. ❤️
———
“I know what you are,” Killian said, a quiet reaffirmation of Emma’s suspicions.
“And yet you’re still here,” Emma teased, caging him between herself and the stone exterior of the tavern with her arms.
“What can I say?” Killian shuddered as Emma nuzzled his neck, inhaling his scent and letting her teeth tauntingly scrape against him. “I love a challenge.”
“You’re trembling,” Emma purred with a smirk, sliding her hand up Killian’s chest and against the side of his throat, her nails grazing his skin as she clutched at the hair on the nape of his neck. She mirrored the motion on his other side with her tongue, flattening it against his flesh and licking a long stripe up to the hinge of his jaw as she jerked his head back. “I can feel your heart racing.” Her breath was hot on his ear as she nipped at the lobe playfully. “What’s the matter, Captain? Not as courageous as legend says you are?”
“How can a man’s heart not race at the sight of a gorgeous woman such as yourself pressing him to a wall with her body?” Killian caught her wrist in the crook of his hook, lowering her hand and swapping their positions in one smooth spin, his hand poised a hair’s breadth away from grasping her throat. “And do not make the mistake of underestimating me, darling.”
“There’s the pirate I want to see,” Emma smiled triumphantly despite her position. “Shall we go inside and find a room?” Emma asked as she palmed him through his leathers. “Or do you prefer to be ravished in the open?”
Killian’s eyebrow raised at that as he answered, “A lady deserves a proper bed.” He thrust once into her hand as he stepped closer and pinned her arm between them. “But if a wench likes to be taken against a wall, who am I to deny her pleasure?” Tucking his hook beneath her skirts, he slowly lifted them to her hip, the cool metal brushing up her thigh. “Tell me, darling,” he said, their foreheads practically touching, his nose nudging her cheek and his lips ghosting over hers as he asked in a sultry tone, “which type of lass are you?”
“I’m the type that does the taking, Captain.” With her free arm, Emma shoved him back toward the building opposite them. Killian slammed against the brick with a grunt and shook his head to clear it as Emma sank to her knees before him. She wasted no time unfastening his belt and untying the laces beneath it, baring his cock to her eager hands. “Can you handle it?”
She proudly watched his expression shift from so suave to utterly wrecked as she stroked his length, feeling him swell and harden against her palm. Thumbing at the tip as precum leaked from his slit, she spread the lubricant down his shaft as she gave him squeezing pumps.
“Come on, Captain. I thought they said you were a talker. Can’t you answer a simple question?”
“Bloody fucking hell,” Killian barely managed to say through gritted teeth. “I can handle it,” he answered, his breathless tone rather unconvincing. “You certainly know how to handle a cock, love.”
Emma hummed at the compliment and made whatever he was going to say next catch in his throat as she took him into her mouth, flattening her tongue along the underside of him as she sheathed his full length and swallowed before releasing him with a wet pop.
“Fuck,” Killian groaned as Emma did it again, and again, sucking harder each time. “Gods, you fucking minx. Bloody hell. Fuck.” His hand fisted in her hair as he urged her to keep going. The pull of his rings tangling in some strands made her moan, the vibrations of which only caused him to echo her sinful sounds with his own. He almost lost his resolve when she flicked her tongue over his slit, the sensation just shy of too much, but Emma stopped before he could topple over the edge, keeping him agonizingly on the precipice as she got to her feet.
“You’ve a bloody brilliant mouth, darling.” Killian’s chest heaved in an effort to catch his breath, an effort which Emma thwarted as she rucked up her skirts and lifted her leg to lock it behind him.
“I can hear your blood rushing in your veins,” Emma said as she tore open his shirt and vest with ease, raking her nails down his exposed chest. “All of it gathering right here,” she squeezed his cock as she emphasized the word, weighing it in her hand before draping her skirts over them both and dragging the head back and forth along her folds, coating him in her arousal as he panted desperately.
“Gods,” was all he could manage to say. A moan clung to his tongue as she took him inside herself, the feel of her tight, wet heat unexpectedly warm considering the coolness of her touch.
“Damn, you’re fucking big when you’re hard like this,” Emma groaned, swiveling and rocking her hips, careful with her movements to keep him buried inside her as she rode him. Killian thrust to meet her, settling his hand and hook on her waist to steady her as she set the pace, grinding together in their own sort of dance.
“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it,” he smirked, chasing her mouth with his as she teased him with an almost kiss before throwing back her head with a moan.
Emma pulled her lower lip between her teeth, worrying it as she canted her hips with determination until Killian’s cock hit the spot she loved the most. She writhed against him, one hand planted in his hair and the other grasping his balls.
“Tell me, Captain,” she purred, “can you be a good little pirate for me and stay quiet?”
“Yes,” he gasped into her mouth as she pressed wet kisses to his lips, his cheek, his jaw, his throat. “Gods, yes.”
“Good boy.” She ruffled his hair before clenching her fist and tugging it, tipping back his head and pulling the skin on his neck taut. “Shhh,” she soothed, tasting him again with her tongue.
A sharp cry caught in the back of his throat as she sank her teeth into his flesh. His hips bucked wildly as she sucked hard and drew the blood from his punctured vein with hungry, approving grunts. In moments, the pain had passed, replaced with an unexplainable sort of euphoria as Emma quenched her thirst. Killian chased his high as Emma continued to bounce herself on his cock and drink from his neck.
“Come for me, Captain,” she encouraged as she licked at his wound, soothing the sting and sealing the cuts. “I’ve had my fill of your delicious blood. Fill me with your cum too.”
“Gods, love,” he panted as his head fell back against the brick wall behind him. At that point, it was the only thing keeping him upright, his legs weak beneath him from the dizzying blood loss and building orgasm.
“I can feel your cock throbbing,” Emma smirked, knowing what her words had been doing to him all night. “Come inside me, sweetheart. I need it. I’m so close.”
Killian cupped her ass through her skirt with his hand and fucked her in earnest then. He met her thrust for thrust and nudged her hand out of the way with his hook to tend to her clit himself.
“Yes, that’s it, love,” he growled as her legs quaked and she palmed her breast through her top. “Now look who’s trembling.” He chuckled at that, amused by his own play on her words, before he could produce nothing other than staccatoed moans as her walls fluttered and clenched around him. His hips stuttered and snapped forcefully, and he lost himself in the feel of her tight heat draining his cock dry as she made him fall with her and spill his release deep inside her.
“Fuck yes,” Emma sighed contentedly as she leaned against his chest. Her fingers toyed with his chest hair as they came down from their highs together. Once she caught her breath, Emma let Killian’s cock slip from her core and unsteadily lowered her leg, balancing herself with her hands on his shoulders before sliding them down his open shirt to the waistband of his leathers.
“That was amazing, Captain,” she praised, palming his soaked cock and thumbing at the tip before gently stuffing it back into its leather confines. “You were amazing. Your blood tastes amazing.” Bringing her thumb to her lips, she sucked the wet pad into her mouth, making Killian’s cock twitch again at the sinful sight. “Mmmm, and so does your cum.”
“Do I get a taste of you, darling?” Killian asked, sounding more desperate than confident with still-labored breaths. “Turnabout is fair play, after all. I imagine you’ll taste as divine as you feel.”
“Maybe next time,” Emma teased, much to his disappointment despite the promise in her words.
“So there will be a next time, then?”
“Perhaps.” Emma smiled, smoothing her skirt as she backed away from him. “I don’t think I’ve had nearly enough of you yet. We’ll pass closely in the night again, I’m sure.” She bit her lip playfully as she took in how wrecked he looked, his shirt hanging open, his leathers unfastened, hair mussed, lips swollen, cock most certainly aching still. “Until next time, Captain.” She spun on her heels and left before she could have the chance to bite him again, knowing he’d need his rest before she could take any more from him. But she’d find him again, she promised herself she would.
“Until next time,” he echoed softly, fighting the urge to chase after her as he watched her leave. A beautiful mystery, one he knew he wanted to unravel, again and again.
