It’s been ages, but @everything-person sent a kind ask about a broken link! I have a sneaky feeling tumblr didn’t like my shirtless edit of our fair Killian that I originally uploaded with the fic. There is ALMOST CERTAINLY a better way to do this, and maybe i’ll get the energy to go fix the links in the old posts, but in the meantime here’s a re-upload of chapter one! reminder that it’s also on ao3. check my “jess writes cs” tag for the rest.
“The Captain’s Cabin?”
Emma squinted up at the sign, covering her eyes to keep the morning light from turning her blind. It was a ridiculous name, if she said so herself. (Never mind that this was their first day in town, and she’d been the one to choose the place.)
“I don’t know about this,” she said, sliding her eyes back to the blonde girl at her side. “We could just get back in the car and find a nice, motel-side Arby’s.”
“We just spent five hours in the car, not counting the five minutes it took to find that parking spot, Emma,” Elsa whined, “If I don’t get to eat whatever it is I’m smelling right now, I think I might cry.”
Emma ceded, but only because the smell of fried seafood was calling to her too.
The two of them stepped out of the misty morning and into the little dockside restaurant, Emma shaking her hair out of her hooded anorak jacket and Elsa flinging her braid back over her shoulder. The lunch crowd was still milling about, mostly older citizens and young parents, and the two were only too happy to take their time finding seats. The walls were stained dark, as if the warm drizzle outside had penetrated the wood, and covered in weather-worn treasures that undoubtedly came from the nearby sea. One side of the small building stood on ground level, but the other seemed to stretch out toward the water. It was nice, Emma had to admit, nicer than the dorky sign on the front had led on.
The two of them chose seats at the end of the long bar, despite all earlier protests about sitting for any prolonged periods (ever again, Elsa had promised, one foot up on the dashboard and the other hanging out the passenger window.) Elsa busied herself tracing the faces of old sailors and fisherman pictured on the walls, while Emma watched the tide coming in.
It hardly looked pleasant out, but she was certain those little black blobs in the distance were boats. She ran her hand over the windowpane to get a clearer view and squinted again, trying to figure out exactly what kind of vessels had caught her attention.
“Can I help the both of you?”
Emma swiveled on the little barstool and found herself eye-level with a toothy, if welcoming, grin. The man was standing on the other side of the bar, his black shirt emblazoned with the same logo from the sign outside the restaurant. She had no idea how he snuck up on her like that, but Elsa answered him before she could voice her question back.
“You definitely can. We’ve been in the car for far too long, and we need food.”
“I’ll have to see if we’ve got any laying around, then,” he said with a bit of a laugh, seeming to relax into his smile as he regarded Emma more thoroughly. “Where are you traveling from?”
“Boston,” the both of them answered, tiredness coming through in Emma’s voice and restlessness coming through in Elsa’s.
He clicked his tongue and handed both of them menus, leaning a hip against the bar as he played with one of the bottles on the counter top. “Quite a long ways away, but at least you chose a beautiful day to come up. It’s not always this nice out.”
“You call this nice?” Emma chuckled, wrinkling her nose as she nodded toward the window. “It’s about to rain.”
“On the contrary, lass. I’d reckon the sun’ll be out before you’ve finished your meal.” His smile was challenging her now, as if he was about to reach out into the air and ask her to shake on it.
“Speaking of,” Elsa said, swiveling her menu toward him and pointing at a dish. “Can I get this with curly fries?”
“There’s no way,” Emma said, shaking her head at the man. He was leaned over the counter, arms folded out in front of him. She thought she could see the beginnings of a tattoo on the inside of his arm but refused to inspect any further, knowing his eyes had been following her a little too closely already.
“Ah, but there is,” he sang out. “When you’ve lived here as long as I, you tend to get accustomed to the signs.”
"Nobody’s that good,” She pressed, crossing her arms in front of her. He’d been keeping them (well, keeping her,if Elsa’s less-than-subtle looks meant anything) company ever since they’d ordered a meal, and since then she’d come to know quite a bit about him. His name was Killian Jones, and it didn’t sound like an American name because it wasn’t. He and his brother had come over from the United Kingdom a few years ago and started up business here. They had a sailboat, of all things, moored out at the end of the restaurant’s dock, and that apparently gave him the ability to predict the weather. “You have to have checked an app, or something.”
He shook his head again, eyes sparkling as they regarded her. “I could show you, if you’d like,” he said, a bit of extra something in his voice as he made the offer. “Liam’s not quite done with your orders yet, and it won’t take long.”
Emma gave him a challenging look of her own, then, wondering just how many tourists got an invite out onto his sailboat while their meals were made ready. On the other hand, though, her legs weren’t nearly stretched enough after driving for so long, and she did like the idea of standing again.
“Oh, go do it,” Elsa said, tearing her straw wrapper into tiny little squares atop the bar. “I’ll wait here for when the food gets out.”
“See? She’ll wait here, for when the food gets out,” Killian said, sweeping his arm out toward Elsa and raising his brow at Emma. “Come on, Swan, don’t make a man beg.”
Again, Emma relented, but only because she would never hear the end of it from Elsa if she acted like going with him was a big deal.
“What made you pick Maine, of all places?”
They were both leaned against the rail of his sailboat (which was more than a little impressive, Emma grudgingly admitted. With something like this at her disposal, she’d probably spend a few cloudy days on the water, too) and watching the little town ferry pick up passengers from the neighboring dock. It’d made three trips since they came outside, passengers snapping pictures and laughing at the sea spray when they passed over particularly large curls of wake.
“I could ask you the same,” he countered, twisting his neck to regard her. She didn’t remember him coming to stand so close, exactly, but then the past twenty minutes had gone by without her thinking of a single excuse to run back to Elsa. (It definitely had nothing to do with the way he seemed to talk about the sea like it was his first love, that was certain.)
“It’s different,” she told him with a small laugh. “We’re not moving in.”
“We didn’t think we were either, to be honest. Liam and I had plans to sail up and down the coast, to pack up every time we thought we were getting too rooted down.”
“Guess that worked out for the two of you,” Emma countered, nodding back toward the restaurant. “Big change of plans?”
“You could say that.” His smile turned wistful then, almost dreamlike, and Emma found herself watching him as he turned his eyes back to the sea. She couldn’t tell if it was the way the sun was now warming their faces or simply the way he was born, but the ocean seemed pooled right there in his eyes, too. He turned to her then, catching her off guard once more with his closeness. “I’ll wager your food’s waiting for you now, love.”
Surprisingly reluctant to leave the peaceful, salty air out on the docks, Emma nodded, letting him lead her back inside. Most of the lunch rush had taken off by then, and it was almost too easy to hear her friend’s voice carrying through the restaurant as they stepped back through the doorway.
“- she’s not really my sister, even though she looks it, but we always take this big sisterly road trip in the spring to celebrate meeting each other. She pretends she hates long trips, but I know that - Emma!”
Emma’s eyes widened considerably as she saw her friend chatting up a dark-haired stranger, one whose head looked exactly like Killian’s from the angle she had on him. He turned then, a lighter shade of blue eyes meeting hers. He was wearing the same shirt as Killian, too, but all brotherly resemblance ended below eye level.
“You must be Emma,” the man said, straightening up off the barstool and reaching out a large, square hand. “Liam Jones, privilege to be at your services today.”
Emma could see Elsa’s bright eyes behind him, switching frantically between delight and panic. She had always been terrible at improvisation, especially when it came to someone she wanted to impress. Emma only smiled and shook his hand warmly, not missing the gigantic plate of curly fries that Elsa had placed between them. (She didn’t miss the look Liam gave to Killian, either, but she found herself wishing she’d seen it from Elsa’s perspective instead. As it was, he was standing too close to her for her to see.)
“Nice to meet you. Are you the one I need to thank for the sandwich waiting over at my seat?”
“I am, especially since my second-in-command was nowhere to be found,” Liam said pointedly, aiming his smirk at her instead of his brother this time. She managed not to blush, but there was no hiding the snort that came from Elsa at her seat.
Seeing the food on her plate reminded Emma of their reason for visiting, and she found herself lingering there long after her plate held nothing but crumbs, swapping travel stories with the two men who held the sea in their eyes. It was comfortable, just as much as her ride together with Elsa had been, and suddenly she found herself wondering what else they might have missed if they hadn’t pulled off the interstate to fuel up in the little seaside town.
(Elsa, for all her part, wasn’t even trying to be subtle as she offered Liam the last long curly fry on her plate, complaining when he told her it’d be ungentlemanly to take anything more from her plate than he already had. Her argument was that he’d made them, after all, and deserved to spend a little time savoring the dishes he made. They didn’t even notice it when Killian snuck the thing off her plate and ate it himself.)
“So,” Killian finally asks, stepping up to tackle the question they’d all been dancing around, “How long are the both of you in town?”
"Oh, we only planned on stopping for a few-” Emma felt the point of Elsa’s shoe dig into her shin then, effectively cutting her off before she could say anything drastic. Emma swiveled back and gave her just as deliberate and obvious a look, wondering what the hell had gotten into her.
“A few days. Maybe a week or two,” Elsa supplied, sipping at her water and refusing to meet Emma’s eyes. “We don’t really have to be back any time soon.”
Emma let it go after a moment, but only because she didn’t want that to be the last smile she saw on Killian Jones’ face.
Hello all! This idea spawned from a Discord discussion about friends with benefits and an accidental pregnancy. My mind immediately went to Emma giving the child up and then both her son and the father of the child finding her on the same day!
Her books and notes are sprawled all over the library table studying for her midterm exam in the stupid history class she thought would be easy for her liberal arts credit (that she’d put off until her final year). She just had to go and pick the class in which the TA decided he wanted to spice things up a notch by deep diving into certain topics instead of the broad overview the course description in the student class catalogue had provided. (Did she really need to know the names of all the pieces of clothing Marie Antoinette wore; she would’ve taken costume history if she’d been interested in that). It’s when she goes to take a look at her notes on the beheading of the French royal family that she accidentally knocks said notes off the table instead, and they are promptly trampled on by him.
“Hey!” She whisper-hisses, even though she knows it’s not his fault that she just knocked her papers right into his path.
He stops suddenly, something she hadn’t expected. She figured he’d just keep on walking like most everyone else did. Instead he stops and looks down at the papers lying haphazardly on the library floor and breaks out in a wide grin.
“Sorry, lass.” He says, and she was not expecting the British accent. “Didn’t realize in my rush I’d nicked your papers.” He picks up his foot and reaches for the paper that he was standing on, his stupidly blue eyes dancing with mirth. She debates on whether to let him know it was she who clumsily knocked over the papers and not him, but she decides to run with it. It’s not like she’ll see him after tonight.
She flicks her blonde ponytail back behind her as she considers him. “Well, just watch where you’re going next time,” she breathes out. He finishes picking up her papers and hands them to her. He opens his mouth as if to say something else, but she has started looking through her papers and reorganizing, so he shuts his mouth and gives her a salute instead. She laughs a little at this and definitely does not check out his ass as he walks away.
———
Turns out she does see him again. He happens to be her roommate, Ruby’s, boyfriend’s best friend (small world and all that jazz). It’s the next Tuesday, midterm exam taken and passed, and the bar they like to frequent has college student specials on Tuesday nights. He walks up with Graham, all swagger and charm, until he notices her sitting at the table. His face drops for a brief moment before the grin breaks out again and he runs a hand through his luxurious, chocolate brown locks (not that she’s looking) (she’s totally looking).
“Killian Jones,” he says, his hand coming out for a shake.
“Emma Swan,” she breathes back (why is her voice always so breathy when she talks to him?), gripping his hand and letting him know despite the breathiness, she’s a strong woman who doesn’t take the normal bullshit guys throw at her. His eyebrow raises at he strong grip, and Emma knows she’s a goner.
“I leave on Sunday,” she explained. “And once I get back to London, I will be taking a train to Cambridge because there are sixty-nine other cities in the country that aren’t the capital.”
Killian snorted out a laugh as he finished picking at the platter and gently pushed his plate away.
“You know I have visited a couple of them before, right?” he mused. “Manchester and Salisbury, I believe.”
“You’ve been to Salisbury before?” she asked, “Salisbury but not Cambridge?”
“I wanted to see Stonehenge,” he explained, giving a little shrug of his shoulders.
This one shot was originally written for the lovely Alma ( @teamhook ) for the #love4teamhook collection. Though I realize this didn’t happen in canon, I consider it more a divergent missing moment which could have happened than fully AU. Killian did seem to make friends with a lot of the various princesses who came and went on “Once”, until it sort of seemed like he had a Princess Squad. This story came from that, and you know that the Charmings and company would have gone to Aladdin and Jasmine’s wedding…
Summary:When Killian, Emma, and the Storybrooke crew travel to Agrabah for the wedding of Aladdin and Jasmine, our pirate learns just how many people have his back.
“I never thought I’d see the day,” a disgruntled voice tsked, standing at the mirror and just out of Emma’s line of sight. The speaker had that disapproving tone to her words, one that Emma had come to know well growing up surrounded by people who looked down their noses at her and were constantly disappointed in her prickly demeanor and tough exterior.
The speaker’s companion, a woman whose robes were a violently garish mauve and who kept fluffing her already quite voluminous mane of curly dark hair, sighed in regretful agreement. Her curls bounced as she seemed to nod sagely at her friend’s words. “It’s true - seems just about anyone can marry into the royal family now.”
The first woman tittered gleefully, enjoying having a sympathetic ear for her gossip no doubt. “Never mind the scruffy length of that Aladdin’s hair…” the mocking emphasis she put on the new prince consort of Agrabah’s name, as if it were too ridiculous to take seriously, had Emma clenching her fist angrily, ready to storm into view and speak up on her friend’s behalf. However, the rest of the woman’s words, knocked her back on her heels for several stunned, painful seconds, “…but did you see the sort of riff raff on his side of the aisle? Street rat that he is, I suppose I really shouldn’t have expected more from the guest list, but honestly!”
“And the visitors are no better! What are Queen Snow and her Charming thinking accepting a pirate for a son-in-law… with his reputation and that hook?”
Emma’s pulse was pounding so strongly in her temples that her vision was going a bit hazy when she charged into the ladies room from the short hall where she’d been listening, revealing herself to the bitter hags at the sinks, practically vibrating with righteous anger and staring them both down as their mouths fell open in shocked embarrassment. Their entire aspects changed as they began to simper and apologize, hoping to placate the royal standing before them.
I love this so much!!!! I think I’ve read it close to a hundred times!!! Just because it makes me so happy to know that Killian has a Princess Squad looking out for him!!!!!! I laugh at the way each Princess shuts up the nasties and makes there points!!!!! Amazing!!!!! Thanks for sharing!!!!!
I’m seriously embarrassed that it took so long for me to post the second part of my @neverlandnewyear fic, but finally, here we are: Part Two at last!! This will be the conclusion of this particular story, so hopefully you will feel I’ve wrapped it up with a bit of steam, and bit of a comeuppance for Neal, and a little fun for our pirate and princess too!
In case anyone needs it after so long, I’ve included a link to Part One, to refresh your memories!
Written for the CS Neverland New Year 22 Event
Contains imagined missing moments or revisions from the end of episode 3x06 “Ariel” - after they’ve exited the Echo Caves. The point-of-view switches between Killian and Emma at the section break, as it did in the first part - it picks up right where that one ended. This is the final part of this particular story.
Killian didn’t stop moving - couldn’t stop moving - crashing and blundering more loudly and blindly than he usually allowed himself on this accursed island, (than was truly safe) the further he got from the crushing reunion he had left behind him. More important than the Lost Boys or island beasties he might alert with his movements was seeing that he was far removed from any in his band of heroes witnessing the disappointment and hurt searing across his face. Already, only scraps remained of the renewed hope Emma Swan had reignited in his heart, and he was scrambling to gather those last tatters around himself, as much as he would his heavy leather duster in a downpour.
But it was proving more difficult than he would like.
Finally, he came to an abrupt stop as the ground before him fell away sharply - a steep gorge marking the end of the pixies’ domain and lowering down into the borders of the tribal natives’ land. He had nearly forgotten the boundary in the years since his last venture through Neverland’s jungles. Thankfully, the trees and foliage had thinned enough near the rocky edge to warn him just in time.
Staring down, chest heaving to regain his breath, Killian hung his head, admitting to himself that he had to stop before he tumbled into some unseen chasm or ran right into one of Tiger Lily and her band’s poison arrows. The dark green maze cut through by jagged rock outcrops and winding streams was not as he remembered either - thicker, deeper, and even more foreboding than it had been when he’d lived there long ago (though he would have reckoned that impossible before this return). The last thing he needed was to force the very people he was trying to gain some space from to come to his rescue. And he certainly couldn’t bear to appear any more pitiable to Swan than he must already. That dratted confession he’d made had only served to allow her to fall into the arms of her boy’s father.
As his breathing slowly returned to normal, Killian pinched his eyes closed against that image replaying itself in his mind’s eye. He merely needed a moment to get himself under control, slide the veneer back into place, and pretend that all was as it should be. He might not be able to pass off his confession in the Caves as anything but the unvarnished truth - the bridge it had begun made doing otherwise impossible - but he could regain the insouciant charm, the cavalier, devil-may-care attitude he wielded so expertly and carry on as though it didn’t matter that much to him. True, Swan had somehow gotten past his defenses, wormed her way into his chest, and cracked his heart back open to feeling once more, but if he played it off as a passing fancy, brushed it aside, ‘out of sight, out of mind’, would any of them bother to look past what they thought they knew of the “scoundrel pirate” to see how false it would be?
With a weary sigh, Killian attempted to steel himself; his mind made up. Play this right and he might leave Neverland still in possession of a shred of his dignity. It wouldn’t be his first time hiding the hurt he bore, burying it to use as fuel to push him forward. He’d merely thought he might be able to stop doing so. One of these days, though after centuries one would think he had suffered enough, he would stop entertaining foolish hope.
I love it when Emma puts Neal in his place!!!!! It just pisses me off when he thinks he’s entitled to something that he doesn’t deserve!!!! So thank you for that!!!!
And I love that Killian was trying to get away from the scene thinking he had lost all Hope only for Emma to come to him and show him how she feels and that he still has Hope!!!!!
Thank you for this amazing story!!!!! I will be going to re read again!!!!
Warnings: For me this is super tame, but Neal is an ass so… he threatens some things.
Length:~5k
Summary: Three years ago, Neal Cassidy halted his pursuit of Emma in favour of the fortunes of an heiress by tarnishing her reputation. Now he’s back intending to collect his prize, but Emma isn’t the wide eyed ingénue he courted so easily last time. When he invites himself to join the family and some other guests for dinner, the night yields far more than anyone bargained for.
Notes: Great thanks to @kmomof4 for once again being a wonderful beta. The art is by the lovely @undercaffinatednightmare, I had so much fun talking to you about it, it really has brightened my time being ill over the last couple of days. You should all thank her too, if she hadn’t made it, I wouldn’t be posting this.
This fic was inspired by a visited to the National Trust property called Upton House. It is the house featured in the art in fact (we’re clever like that!) So honestly it’s pretty British, even if the ‘era’ isn’t overtly stated it’s meant to be regency in feel.
So I hope you enjoy, and thank you for the support!
Emma usually loved the house parties her parents threw at their country home; they were more relaxed than the ones that happened in town and she felt under less scrutiny here. Anyone who was invited was a friend, and didn’t know or didn’t care about what had happened three years ago. But tonight was different, and she found herself having to step out of the long gallery and onto the terrace when the men came through from the dining room because she simply couldn’t bear it anymore.
This is amazing!!!!! And I wanted to cut Neals balls off for what he was trying to do Emma!!!! And I love that Killian tried to protect Emma from what Neal tried to do!!!!!
I guess I should apologize for being self-indulgent, because many of you may have read this little two shot before. It has been a while since I’ve gone back and looked at it though, and this morning I felt like looking it up again. It was one of my first CS/OuaT fics to gain some definite love and popularity back in the hiatus between 3a and 3b. Maybe some of my newer readers who missed it will enjoy, and maybe someone else will have fun looking back (I hope). Plus, it now has perfect, amazing, lovely cover art, courtesy of the wonderful @searchingwardrobes!!!
Summary:Just a little post-Neverland fic, taking place sometime after they’ve returned to Storybrooke with Henry. Pan’s gone, and there is no second curse. It was originally inspired (some years ago) by cold January weather and my wondering how Hook would manage to keep warm and not get sick on a freezing cold old ship. Anyway, pretty sweet and fluffy, I’ll admit it, but I still hope you enjoy - even all these years later and after how much closer our pirate and princess became…
If anyone had asked her, Emma Swan couldn’t have explained why she felt the sudden prickling of concern in the back of her mind, nor the unexpected, pressing need to make sure he was alright. Shaking her head at the sheer ridiculousness of the idea, she had fought against her impulses all day. She had busied herself with paperwork and answered calls about power outages and other inconveniences that came with the cold, wintry Maine weather, but there weren’t enough jobs by early afternoon to keep her mind from wandering back to him and her eyes from every so often floating up to check the clock.
David knew something was bothering her; Emma could feel her father’s eyes studying her for clues to her agitation. However, he was also wise enough to bite his tongue and not ask questions. She wanted to tell him to go on home to Snow, and she would finish up. Yet she didn’t, knowing that would only make him more curious. Resolutely, stubbornly, she kept finding any bit of busy work she could lay her hands on to stop the disconcerting waves of concern for him that were now rolling through her at regular intervals.
‘He’s a 300-year-old pirate captain, for Heaven’s sake!’ her mind berated her seeming irrationality. ‘He can certainly take care of himself in a sleepy little town. What in the world could he need you for? You haven’t had word of any kind of trouble…’ Still, while all of these arguments made perfect, reasonable sense, Emma found they didn’t soothe her unease in the slightest.
When the clock finally struck five, David stood casually, announcing that since they weren’t busy he was going to head home and help Snow with supper, if Emma didn’t need anything. Emma shook her head 'no’ with a small smile, thanking him and saying she would see him shortly.
“You’re sure I can’t do anything else to help before I leave?” her father asked sincerely, again looking at her so closely that Emma knew he was trying to divine her thoughts.
“Positive,” she reiterated with a definite nod, giving him a playful smirk and waving him out the door. “I’ll call if anything comes up, but I should be right behind you in an hour or so.”
Once her father had left her to her own devices, Emma tossed the case files she had been pretending to read across the surface of her desk and gave up all pretense of working. Standing up and beginning to pace, she at last admitted to herself that the worry swirling inside her for Hook was not going away – in fact, it was only growing stronger. Taking one last glance around the interior of the station, she realized that she wasn’t going to get anything else done, and she wouldn’t have any peace until she put her awful hunch to rest. Hook was going to tease her mercilessly about her concern for him, but apparently she was going to have to live with that. The fact that he tended to haunt her steps and turn up anywhere she might be, made it especially disconcerting that she hadn’t seen or heard from him in three days. At least, she was telling herself that was all it was.
I loved this the first time that I read it and I love it even more now that I’ve read it again!!!!!! I always wondered what Killian would be like if he ever got sick and was alone in the Jolly!!! And you have that to me and I am so grateful!!!! Thanks for sharing this again!!!!! Love love love love love love this!!!!!
Three-part CS AU where Emma and Killian are doctors working at the same hospital (world without pandemic). They’ve yet to meet, but Emma has definitely seen the sexy Dr. Jones in her travels at Mist Haven Medical. It’s generally a bad idea to get involved with a colleague, but a little fantasizing never hurt… right? Inspired by the song ‘Bad Idea’ by Ariana Grande and a TV couple who set the bar for true love stories.
A/N: Well… it took more than a year, but at last I am back with an update to this story. I have to be honest, there were times in the last year when I doubted I would ever write a fic again. I felt that I had written the stories I wanted, and with my graduation and a new demanding job, I couldn’t find time to sustain the hobby. But with summer fast approaching, I have had a little time to look back and to search for inspiration. I knew I needed to finish this short story. I HATE that I have left it this long, but I hope, if you’ve liked it so far, you’ll reengage and revel in the conclusion of this sweet little fic. Re-reading the first two chapters, I remembered the mix of humor and pure fluff I was going for. It made me smile so big, and if part three does that for any of you, I will be more than pleased. Thank you so much for continuing on, and I hope you enjoy!
Six months later
Thump,thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, Thump. Unsteady, loud, and reminding him at every quiet moment of how much he was missing his Swan. This was the state of his heart since rising this morning, leaving the bed he shared with the woman he loved and clutching at cold sheets.
The action of waking up alone, while regrettable, hadn’t been the issue that set his cardiac system into full blown assault. Much as he hated to be parted from Emma, it was a somewhat natural occurrence. They weren’t always blessed with aligning shifts. Still, she had the day off today, and he’d imagined the morning going rather differently…
Facing the start of a new dawn with Emma in his arms made the hours to come more than bearable, and though it may mean fatigue down the line, he always began the day just as he ended it, reminding her of how remarkable she was. He’d start with soft touches, taking her in and tracing the lines of her lithe figure. His eyes swept over every part of her, from her golden hair to sun kissed skin and the freckles on her arms that became more prominent with warmer weather. At first, he’d always forget that this was now normal. He had to remind himself that she was real, and his process of remembering meant using all his senses, brushing kisses on her skin as she slowly came awake.
Welcome back my friend!!!!! I will tell you that I have missed you so so much and I squealed in delight when I saw this come up!!!!!! What a wonderful ending to this amazing story!!!! Thanks for writing it and for coming back to finish it!!!! Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you so so so so much!!!!!!
Summary: The story had been front page news for months. Scandalous details of a married woman of low birth and with limited means, murdering her husband; hatcheting him to death in order to save her own life and that of her unborn child - or so she claimed. No evidence to support her allegations of abuse had been presented during the trial, but in the end, it was the fact that Mrs. Cassidy was with child that saved her from a verdict of murder in the first degree, a judgment that carried the death penalty for both men and women alike. As an act of mercy, a lesser charge was issued, one that spared her life but now made her Misthaven Penitentiary’s problem to contend with, and more specifically, the Captain of the Guard charged with keeping order within its walls.
Two days had passed, and Killian had managed to find some semblance of clarity to his situation. After much introspection - and a fair bit of pulling rank on Booth, letting him take the lion’s share of the patrols - Killian deduced he could not go wrong with keeping his focus on his duty. Duty had never failed him, and so long as he adhered to what his obligations required, then whatever changes his association with Swan might conceive in him, he should be able to weather them with honor and a sense of good form.
Confident in his newfound resolve, Killian had relieved Booth and taken upon himself the task of escorting Swan and Elsa on their morning walk. They were fortunate to have such mild weather for late November. It was not unusual that by this time in the year the elements proved too inhospitable to take the prisoners out. Killian worried about how Swan would fare being cooped up in her cell for weeks on end as she approached the end of her pregnancy, especially with Elsa’s insistence that physical activity was more important than ever in order for her to keep her strength up for the delivery.
Perhaps he could beseech Liam to allow her time out of her cell during the night while the other prisoners slept in order to get her necessary exercise when the weather did not permit excursions out of doors? Or if not within the cell block, the nearly deserted officer’s wing might prove useful. There, she would be away from any prying eyes that might take the advantage of appreciating her through the concealment of the darkness.
Advantages such as appreciating the glow of her supple skin, or the way her hair freely cascaded down her back or curled around the fullness of her breasts, rounder now than they had been when she’d first arrived. Much like her abdomen, its protrusion undeniable and no longer capable of being concealed beneath shawls or overcoats. Creating a great many changes to Swan’s form and mobility.
Unaware of how greatly he himself had been appreciating the woman during these brief moments into their walk, Killian smiled as he noted how her pregnancy had even changed her gait, giving her a bit of a waddle in her step. Steps that suddenly halted when she doubled over, clutching her abdomen as a hiss left her lips, before a deeper, pained groan caused her eyes to slam shut.
“Swan! Are you alright?”
“Emma,” Elsa said in a soothing voice, contrasting harshly with the panicked tone his own had taken as he rushed to her side. “I need you to breathe,” Elsa coached, her hands lightly resting on Emma’s shoulders as the woman took a shuddering breath. “Killian, take a knee.”
“What?”
“Emma needs a place to sit. Take a knee so she can rest a bit.”
Killian dropped down to one knee, his bent leg creating a perch for Emma to sink back upon, guided by Elsa until she was assured the woman was steady. Catching Elsa’s eye, Killian mouthed to her the fear currently running rampant in his chest.
Summary: The story had been front page news for months. Scandalous details of a married woman of low birth and with limited means, murdering her husband; hatcheting him to death in order to save her own life and that of her unborn child - or so she claimed. No evidence to support her allegations of abuse had been presented during the trial, but in the end, it was the fact that Mrs. Cassidy was with child that saved her from a verdict of murder in the first degree, a judgment that carried the death penalty for both men and women alike. As an act of mercy, a lesser charge was issued, one that spared her life but now made her Misthaven Penitentiary’s problem to contend with, and more specifically, the Captain of the Guard charged with keeping order within its walls.
A/N: I continue to be blown away by the response to this fic. Thank y’all so much!
In answer to a question I received after the last chapter posted, this fic IS written entirely from Killian’s POV.
As the weeks passed, the Captain of the Guard and his unusual charge settled into a familiar routine. Every night Killian would spend time outside her cell, talking with Swan about all manner of things. He would bring her books to read so they might discuss them, and she would share with him the local gossip she’d heard from Granny or one of the other ladies Elsa had recruited to keep her company during visiting hours and the morning walks he still oversaw before leaving each day.
It warmed his heart to see her cell filled with items gifted to her or crafted by her own hand with the yarn and knitting needles she’d come to master. Soft blankets, hats, and booties were overflowing the trunk Marco, the town carpenter, had made for her to hold such keepsakes. Another trunk had been approved to house the garments she’d collected through the generosity of her new friends in order to accommodate her expanding waist and keep her warm during the frigid nights as winter swiftly settled over the prison.
Nights like this one.
Killian turned up the collar of his overcoat and shivered past the drafts seeping in through every crack and crevice within the old stone prison. With a new, heavy blanket in his arms, he made his way to Swan’s cell, intending to spend a few moments with her while Officer Booth (who had replaced Robin on night watch) finished his patrol.
A few of the prisoners nodded at him as he passed, the cold making sleep difficult for them, and one or more groused under their breath at the sight of the blanket. Towards the end of the block, dirt-stained arms hung over the cross brace of the barred door, and one of their newest inmates, Will Scarlet, gave Killian a look bordering on insubordinate as he cheeked, “Something to help keep the missus warm, Captain?”
Killian ignored the man’s question, pausing before his cell only to issue him an order to get back in bed.
“It’s just…” Scarlet continued with a tone of ribbing. “I think someone’s beat you to it.”
Killian’s brow arched up his forehead. Before he asked the thief what he meant by that statement, the soft sound of Swan’s hushed laughter perked his ears. Setting off, he rounded the corner and found Booth standing outside her cell, a bright smile stretching over his usually wooden features as he passed a thick quilt through the bars.
“Officer Booth,” Killian barked, causing the man to balk and snap to attention. “Have you finished patrol?”
“No, Captain,” the man answered.
“Then I suggest you get back to it before I write you up for dereliction of your duty.”
Booth gave his captain a stiff nod, his eyes flicking back towards the cell as if unsure whether he could risk saying anything more to the woman inside. Resolving it wasn’t a risk he was willing to take, Booth made his way past Killian and back to the cell block to continue his patrol. Killian’s flickering jaw muscle practically chased him as he went.
I am loving this!!!! I don’t love that Emma is in prison for “killing” Neal but I know that she will be okay and she will be cleared. I’m only sorry that Neal is already dead so he can’t face the consequences of what he did!!!! Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh!!!!!!!!
Hello, and welcome to my entry for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2019! This au combines two story ideas I’ve wanted to explore for a while. 1. What if CS existed in a Tolkien-esque, LOTR world? 2. What would have happened if it was Killian rather than Neal that Emma ran into when she was stealing the bug? Huge thank you to my beta, @blackwidownat2814, to @clockadile for the amazing story and chapter art, to @kmomof4 and @cssnsfor putting this event together, and to the ladies in the CSSNS chat who have helped me think through this story. If all goes well, I should be posting every Tuesday, and the story will have approximately 18 chapters plus the prologue and epilogue.
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Summary:CS Lord of the Rings au: When Emma Swan steals a yellow Volkswagen Beetle, she has no idea it will lead her toward an adventure filled with danger and intrigue, sacrifice and a love stronger than anything she could imagine. Tasked with bringing the Savior home, the elf, Killian Jones of Misthaven travels to the Land Without Magic. Can he convince Emma to fulfill her destiny before the Dark One regains power and takes over all of the Enchanted Forest?
Regina felt her heart rate increase the closer they got to the border. It had been years since she’d last been to Misthaven, but the pain and shame of her departure–banishment–was still fresh in her mind. Would they even allow her to enter, or would they bar her?
Robin stepped up beside her and took her hand, interlacing their fingers and giving a small, reassuring squeeze.
“It’s going to be alright, my love,” he said, soothingly. “The king who banished you has passed, and from what you’ve told me, Queen Snow is far more reasonable.”
“Maybe,” Regina said, eyes troubled.
After Emma Swan-Jones had successfully mended the broken sword, they’d reconvened to discuss the best strategy moving forward. It went without saying that the sword needed to be taken to the Underworld and destroyed without delay. It similarly went without saying that the Merry Men and the Misthaven elves would be sending their best and strongest fighters with the Savior and her husband to aid and back them up in any way they needed. Nothing was more important or urgent than this task.
But a question still remained. If their best and strongest soldiers joined the fight, who would protect their people who remained behind?
I’ve been posting some angsty stories the past couple of weeks, so I thought for this Easter morning a bit of sweetness and fluff was in order. I hope everyone has a happy and blessed holiday with family, friends, and loved ones if they celebrate, and that they will enjoy this little glimpse of future CS family goodness!
“Oh husband of mine…” Emma Swan’s voice drifted into the living room from the hall with a playful lilt she’d never had much occasion to use before meeting and falling for Killian Jones. Well, she amended to herself wryly as she came up behind where he sat on their couch, hunched over furtively and clearly hiding something, at least not beyond skips she had intended to seduce before taking them down. Still, using it to toy with her pirate a bit before catching him in some form of mischief was a much more entertaining scenario.
She peered over his shoulder, eyes sparkling and a smug smile on her face, almost certain she knew what she was going to find, even as her fingers ran up his neck and scruffed through his coarse, dark hair before gipping it and pulling his head back a bit to meet her eyes where she hovered over him.
Satisfied merriment flickered across his devilishly handsome face and in Killian’s brilliant blue gaze as she stared him down – almost as if he had wanted her to catch him all the time. It was in rare moments like this, precious bits of down time for the two of them together, in their home, safe and comfortable and able to simply be themselves, that Emma saw the playful, boyish side of Killian Jones emerge gleefully. He’d had to grow up so fast, just as she had, that when the little boy he had been before betrayal, slavery, pain, and deprivation, felt assured enough to peek through just a bit in play with her, with Henry, or with their daughter, it was beautiful to see. As a ship’s captain in a dangerous realm, fighting beings like Rumplestiltskin or in tenuous cahoots with such devious compatriots as Cora or Pan, his buoyant, youthful nature had found little outlet for hundreds of lonely years. Now, however, it was sweeter, gentler than that, and it warmed Emma’s heart.
As her eyes trailed from his, she easily spotted the bag of individually wrapped miniature candy bars which she had been hiding in the kitchen cabinet behind her cocoa mix. There were also three or four crumpled metallic gold Twix wrappers on the coffee table in front of him which Killian had not had time to hide. Not to mention the small trace of chocolate in the corner of his smile that she was already hankering to lick away in a slow, sultry kiss.
I’ve been posting some angsty stories the past couple of weeks, so I thought for this Easter morning a bit of sweetness and fluff was in order. I hope everyone has a happy and blessed holiday with family, friends, and loved ones if they celebrate, and that they will enjoy this little glimpse of future CS family goodness!
“Oh husband of mine…” Emma Swan’s voice drifted into the living room from the hall with a playful lilt she’d never had much occasion to use before meeting and falling for Killian Jones. Well, she amended to herself wryly as she came up behind where he sat on their couch, hunched over furtively and clearly hiding something, at least not beyond skips she had intended to seduce before taking them down. Still, using it to toy with her pirate a bit before catching him in some form of mischief was a much more entertaining scenario.
She peered over his shoulder, eyes sparkling and a smug smile on her face, almost certain she knew what she was going to find, even as her fingers ran up his neck and scruffed through his coarse, dark hair before gipping it and pulling his head back a bit to meet her eyes where she hovered over him.
Satisfied merriment flickered across his devilishly handsome face and in Killian’s brilliant blue gaze as she stared him down – almost as if he had wanted her to catch him all the time. It was in rare moments like this, precious bits of down time for the two of them together, in their home, safe and comfortable and able to simply be themselves, that Emma saw the playful, boyish side of Killian Jones emerge gleefully. He’d had to grow up so fast, just as she had, that when the little boy he had been before betrayal, slavery, pain, and deprivation, felt assured enough to peek through just a bit in play with her, with Henry, or with their daughter, it was beautiful to see. As a ship’s captain in a dangerous realm, fighting beings like Rumplestiltskin or in tenuous cahoots with such devious compatriots as Cora or Pan, his buoyant, youthful nature had found little outlet for hundreds of lonely years. Now, however, it was sweeter, gentler than that, and it warmed Emma’s heart.
As her eyes trailed from his, she easily spotted the bag of individually wrapped miniature candy bars which she had been hiding in the kitchen cabinet behind her cocoa mix. There were also three or four crumpled metallic gold Twix wrappers on the coffee table in front of him which Killian had not had time to hide. Not to mention the small trace of chocolate in the corner of his smile that she was already hankering to lick away in a slow, sultry kiss.
This is just a short little one shot that diverges from 5x11 in an alternate way, but I’ve always been fond of it, and now at last I have made it some cover art and am running it as this week’s little promo from my backlog…
Summary:A bit of “Swan Song” canon divergence: Emma makes a vow worthy of the pirate she loves…
I realize that this isn’t the way things happened in “Swan Song”, but it’s more the way I’d have liked to see Killian’s sacrifice and he and Emma’s parting play out. For one thing, the possibility of rescuing him from the Underworld would have seemed more probable to me if he had been taken alive. I tried to get this out of my head and tell myself it was pointless to write since that isn’t the way it went, but it begged to be written, so I did.)
For one stark, horrifying moment it becomes crystal clear in her mind – just what it might have been like for him all those years ago. Her heart stops in her chest, her pulse pounds desperate and blinding behind her eye, her tongue freezes to the roof of her mouth, trapping all the words she’s frantic to say, that she needs him to hear, needs him to know before he is gone. Emma can suddenly understand the loneliness, hopelessness, and blank acceptance in Killian’s eyes when she first met him, when they had spoken atop Anton’s beanstalk of their losses and what it meant to be orphaned. That same despair creeps up on her now at the prospect of losing him.
She told him once that she wasn’t a tearful goodbye kiss person, but as Emma clings to his hand, savoring the warmth of Killian’s calloused skin, the feel of his heavy, bejeweled rings against her fingers for every last possible second, she finds she is unable to let go, the tears can’t be held back; her anguish and need are on full display, and she can’t even bring herself to care. In this moment, the tearing agony and desolation that a young, idealistic naval lieutenant must have once suffered as his captain, his anchor, his beloved older brother died in his arms, rocking his world off its axis forever, tearing him from his moorings and turning him into someone else entirely, is felt in her own chest. She suddenly knows the loss and helplessness of watching while bound to the mast of his own ship as a monster murdered his love and left him to hold her as she died in his arms – not even able to whisper a last ‘I love you’ before she was gone.
Emma sees the Furies – three of them – drawing near, lingering with menace over Killian’s shoulder. But she isn’t letting go easily; she will fight them for him to the very end. She will make sure she sees him off with her love for him on her lips, make sure that he carries the knowledge with him, even on the ferry down the River Styx.
Reaching out now, tenderly, wistfully, she takes his other wrist in her free hand, lightly grasping the curve of his hook and remembering the ball in Camelot, the awestruck look in his eyes and the smile on his face as she had descended the stairs in Arthur’s great hall to stand before him dressed in fresh, innocent white with flowers in her hair, feeling like a girl again – young and new with a chance to start all over. She remembers the gentle guidance in his touch that evening as he led her across the floor and through the unfamiliar steps, never letting her stumble, keeping her from embarrassment or worry though she had never danced that way before. Remembers too the way she had spun and twirled to take his hook as simply as if it were his outstretched hand and the way he had beamed at her gratefully – like she had hung every star in the sky above – and her heart had swelled with love for him. Remembering it now makes this moment, this parting, all the more painful and wrenching as she clings to the curve of steel – a part of him she loves like all the rest. How can she possibly be forced to release it and let him go?
Summary: The story had been front page news for months. Scandalous details of a married woman of low birth and with limited means, murdering her husband; hatcheting him to death in order to save her own life and that of her unborn child - or so she claimed. No evidence to support her allegations of abuse had been presented during the trial, but in the end, it was the fact that Mrs. Cassidy was with child that saved her from a verdict of murder in the first degree, a judgment that carried the death penalty for both men and women alike. As an act of mercy, a lesser charge was issued, one that spared her life but now made her Misthaven Penitentiary’s problem to contend with, and more specifically, the Captain of the Guard charged with keeping order within its walls.
A/N: This fic was inspired by the true account of Martha Casto who was incarcerated in the Missouri State Penitentiary in 1843 for manslaughter. I first heard her story on an episode of Who Do You Think You Are, featuring the lineage of actress Cynthia Nixon. While I have taken some details of Martha’s crime and sentencing to weave into the story, mine will not be a retelling of the accounts of her time in prison. Also, while I am setting this fic in the same time period as the inspiration (mid-1800s), I will be taking some historical liberties.
Thanks to my amazing betas, @snowbellewells and @kmomof4. Also, shout out to @sotangledupinit for the assist in debanging (don’t make it dirty, people) Killian for the art.
“You cannot be bloody serious.” Killian’s eyes jumped from the order in his hands to his brother’s face. “They’re sending her here?”
“This is the only prison within Misthaven County,” Liam reminded him, seemingly unperturbed by the proclamation that a woman, who had just been found guilty of manslaughter and sentenced to serve five years for the crime against her husband, would be housed within the stone walls he was charged with overseeing as warden.
Killian shook his head and tossed the missive onto the imposing mahogany desk in front of him. “This is madness,” he said, running a hand through his hair while trying to grapple with the logistical nightmare the magistrate had set upon them. “Her presence will cause chaos among the other prisoners, to say nothing of how she will affect the guards.”
“I see no reason why her incarceration here should cause such disastrous waves of which you seem concerned.”
Killian stared slack jawed at his brother, who had resumed his seat and began scratching quill to parchment. “Brother,” Killian began with an incredulous tone once he again found his voice, “We are not equipped to see to the needs of a woman here, especially one who is with child.”
“We will see to her needs as we do the men under our supervision. However,” Liam held up his hand to stay his brother’s protest, “I recognize that a few concessions will be necessary in order to ensure her safety and well-being whilst she is here.” Setting the ink he had just finished applying to the page, Liam stood and handed the paper to Killian. “As Captain of the Guard, I entrust these added measures into your authority. See to it the other guards are aware of my instructions and that they are upheld.”
Killian grit his teeth, but held his tongue. He knew a dismissal when it was issued, and though Liam was his older brother, he was also the prison warden and Killian’s superior. Positions Killian respected, even if he did think his brother was being purposefully obtuse about the reality of the circumstance about to befall them.
Upon exiting his brother’s office and returning to his own, Killian settled himself in his desk chair and read over the principles by which Liam would have them all handle the presence of Mrs. Cassidy. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Killian released a long sigh before glancing out the window that looked across the open corridor to the upper level cells that stood adjacent to the officers’ wing. From where he sat, Killian had a clear view around the corner to the secluded stretch where lay the cell Liam had determined would house the infamous ax-murderess.
The story had been front page news for months. Scandalous details of a married woman of low birth and limited means murdering her husband; hatcheting him to death in order to save her own life and that of her unborn child - or so she claimed. No evidence to support her allegations of abuse had been presented during the trial when neighbors and members of the man’s family had come forward with their testimonies of character, painting the victim in portraits of virtue while his wife was further vilified. In the end, it was the fact that Mrs. Cassidy was with child that had saved her from a verdict of murder in the first degree, a judgment that carried the death penalty for men and women alike. As an act of mercy, a lesser charge was issued, one that spared her life but now made her Killian’s problem to contend with.
And she would most certainly be a problem.
Keeping order within the prison was a challenge on the best of days. They were woefully underfunded and understaffed. Though not as deplorable in condition as other prisons Killian had seen, Misthaven Penitentiary had always relied on the charity of the local convent to see them through hard times. With its closing earlier in the year, and the nuns dispersed to other parishes, Killian was not sure how they would fare in the upcoming winter. To say nothing of how they’d fare having an inmate of the fairer sex within their midst.
A scoff of scorn erupted from the back of Killian’s throat when he read back over his brother’s edict. No man shall enter Mrs. Cassidy’s cell for any reason, lest it be a matter of life or death. Liam was a damn fool if he thought such a decree would dissuade some of the more… unsavorymembers of their guard from the temptation the woman would present, and it would be left to Killian to maintain order and discipline, not just from the sentenced population, but from his own men. A task he was not relishing in the slightest. Nor was he overjoyed by his brother’s commands that essentially made him her own personal jailor, a notion which left him with a sour taste in his mouth and equally unpleasant sensation in his gut.
Checking the time on his pocket watch, Killian stood and made himself presentable for the shift change. Liam would be addressing the whole of their guard staff, informing them of the impending arrival of Mrs. Cassidy, as well as a dozen or so other new inmates to follow, which meant longer shifts would be required in order to make the necessary preparations. Killian’s hopes of spending some time along the coast while the autumn weather was still agreeable were well and truly snuffed out, much like the desk candle he extinguished before leaving his office.
Here is the conclusion to the story and I hope it was worth the short wait. The tags promised angst, but also a happy ending, which you’ll get…eventually. Thank you for the kind response to this story!
Happy birthday once again to Mary. I hope this is the start of a much better year for you!
Story Summary: After a painful break-up with the love of his life, Killian Jones writes a song for her and sings it every weekend at the bar. One night as he’s playing, he sees her in the crowd with a man he despises, and it leads to an eye-opening discussion between Emma and Killian.
Rating: M
Words: (Ch. 2 - 6320, Total - 11,100)
Find Chapter 1 on Tumblr here
Also found on Ao3 and ffn
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“May…may I come in?” she whispered.
Killian stepped back to open the door wider and watched her brush past him, every muscle in her body tense. He hurried to move his guitar off the sofa, offering her a seat. She perched on the very edge and kept her eyes on her tightly clasped hands.
Killian sat also, leaving a cushion’s width between them. “Are you okay?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, I’m not. You…you were r-right. Those pictures were fakes. Once I looked at them closer, it was so obvious, but when I first got them, it was…I was…I just couldn’t…” She sucked in a choked breath and exhaled a sob. “How could I be so stupid?”
“I’m sure they were very realistic if what Belle said about Milah’s work is true.”
“They were, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that I thought they could be real.”
“No, it doesn’t. You told me love is built on trust, but…you…you didn’t trust me. When I told you I hadn’t been with any other woman, you should have believed me.”
This is the ending that I was hoping for!!!!! I am so happy that they got to the HEA!!!! Them working to get their love back and the trust that should have been there all along. But we know how Emma is and it is very sad that she never really truly trusted Killian before. But I love that they worked through it.
As for Neal and Milah, well let’s just say that they both got what they deserved! I would have loved Killian punching Neal but I am glad that Emma was the one who confronted them! And they have the balls to lie right to her face! Taking one of Emma’s own photos and using it against her ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh! How freaking low can you get?!?!?!? And Milah being so gross and doing that for her grown son?!?!?!? Yuck!!! Mommy needs to cut the cord now!!!!!
I absolutely loved this!!! Even though it broke my heart several times, it put it right back together again!!!!! Thank you thank you thank you thank you!!!!! I love love love love love love this!!!!!
Several months ago, I heard a commercial which turned into a prompt for this story. When I pitched it to my beta @hookedmom, she came up with lots of ideas for it, so I decided to write it for her birthday in April. I almost feel guilty saying it’s her gift, because she had to do a lot of work to help me clean it up, but here it is. Happy birthday, Mary! Very few of my stories would have been completed without you!
This chapter has several flashbacks and changes in Point of View. These are the symbols for each:
~*~*~*~ = flashback
<<<<<>>>>> = change in POV
Summary: After a painful break-up with the love of his life, Killian Jones writes a song for her and sings it every weekend at the bar. One night as he’s playing, he sees her in the crowd with a man he despises, and it leads to an eye-opening discussion between Emma and Killian.
As Killian tuned his guitar prior to walking out onto the small stage, his mind wandered once again, back to the day when his life, for all intents and purposes, ended.
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“Don’t lie to me, Killian!”
“I’m not lying to you, Swan! You’re the only woman I love. I would never cheat on you!”
“I saw the pictures of you having sex with another woman!”
“There aren’t any bloody pictures! How could there be pictures when I haven’t been with anyone else?”
“You can’t deny it was you in them! I might be stupid, but I can still identify the man who’s supposed to be my boyfriend!”
“You’re hardly stupid, which is why you should know I would never cheat on you. You always say you can tell when somebody is lying to you, so use your superpower now, Love.”
“Don’t ever call me that again! Love is built on trust and I can’t trust you now, Killian. How can I?’
“Emma…”
Her voice, which had been nearly hysterical, dropped to a whisper and it cut through him more deeply than her shouting. “It’s over, Killian. We’re through.”
Then she was gone, and he spent the next eight months trying to figure out how it all went wrong.
Okay I need Killian to break Neal’s face and soon!!!! Ugh what a bastard!!!! And don’t even get me started on Milah’s part in all of this!!!! She needs some comeuppance for her part in believing her spoiled brat of a child!!!! And I’m sorry but what give either one of the right? Neal thinks he can just have whatever he wants or he he gets mommy to fix it for him? Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh!!!!! I think I scared everyone in my house when I was reading that part and I just let out a scream!!!! I wanted to find a way to real punch Neal and bitch slap Milah!
And I’m sorry but Emma is not innocent in all this! She believed that Killian would cheat on her and I’m sorry that just proved that she didn’t trust Killian!!! And girlfriend that ain’t cool!!! You trust Jefferson over your boyfriend?!?!? Really Emma!!!!!
I can’t wait for tomorrow!!!! I really love this!!!!! I just need to rest!!!!
Even after all they’ve been through, she’s still getting used to how easy it is to just be with him because they’re not just sex, the usual urge to run away after a night full of pleasure never crosses her mind when she’s with him. Set in an undefined timeline of the series.
The first rays of sunshine bring her back to consciousness as they break through the thin curtain, and she lets out a short breath because yes, they forgot to close the blinds again. She keeps her eyes closed and focuses on the steady beats of his heart under her palm, her fingers glide through his chest hair almost involuntarily.
He lets out a puff of air and she suppresses a smile, burying her face in his collarbone, inhaling his familiar scent laced with her strawberry shampoo. She suppresses a smile.
She loves waking up before him (which is a rare occurrence considering his built-in alarm clock thanks to his Navy days that usually rouses him at the ass crack of dawn).
His arm then tightens around her (because he can always sense when she’s starting to wake up) and shift her closer, her bare chest molds to his sleep-warmed body. His right hand finds hers on his chest, engulfing it and stroking over her fingers with his thumb once, twice in a gesture that distinguishes him just as equally as his accent or the timbre of his voice.
He pulls her closer, his left arm sneaking under her hip and blunted wrist settling on her back, his nose nuzzling into her hair with a languorous inhale.
“Good morning,” she whispers, and gentle lips brush against her temple. “Sleep well?”
His nod is faint against her head, just enough that the stubble on his chin and jaw brush against her skin. She squirms a bit and feels him smile, his leg winding over hers to keep her still. His hand finds hers on his chest, tangling their fingers together. She tucks their intertwined hands under her chin, and his thumb frees itself to caress her cheek.
She never thought her favorite thing would be to wake up with Captain Hook.
CS Neverland New Year 2022: “Hearts Like Wildflowers”
Summary: He was used to the darkness until she brought light into his life with her wild blonde curls and prickly attitude. Even on this godforsaken island, she manages to make him feel alive. (Canon Divergent from 3x06)
A/N: this is my contribution to @neverlandnewyear. This is my first time participating in this event, and I couldn’t be more excited to share this story with all of you! Hope you like it!
He didn’t plan to kiss her again, but it happened anyway.
They have been wandering the jungle for hours. They were still trying to locate Pan’s hideout and had split up from the others, which, if anyone had listened to him, was a bad idea.
The air is so steamy and humid it feels like it’s raining. Her blonde ponytail has doubled in size, with soft curls springing everywhere. It fascinates him a bit as he follows her, trying to figure out how to get her to let him take the lead. Even if he is enjoying the view. Now he’s convinced he can’t get them more turned around than they already are.
“Hey, you hear that? It’s a nightingale, supposedly a symbol of love and anticipation,” he says, trying to make conversation and keep his voice matter-of-fact, standing still. She turns to look at him and starts back in his direction, and he has no idea if she wants to punch him or just walk past him because they have passed that moss-ridden rock three times already.
But her foot catches on something when she almost makes it in front of him, and she stumbles. Her hand reaches out, landing against his chest. He puts his hand and hook on her arms to steady her. She looks up at him, her green eyes wide, and her lips slightly parted. She is very, very close to him.
Oh, bloody hell, he thinks with a harsh intake of breath. Then his hand and hook on her arms draw her against him, and he closes his eyes and kisses her.
Vampires, Werewolves, Mages, and Elves. For centuries, they kept their existence a secret, but the constant rebellions against the strict laws of the Guild had led to a terrible tragedy. In an open clash, it became apparent to humans just what kind of monsters lived among them. Emma Swan loses the love of her life in the first battle of the war. A few months later, while still trying to process what happened, a mysterious and terrifying figure worms his way into her life. But the man is hiding far more terrible secrets than he reveals to her, pulling them both into a horrible situation…
“Mary Margaret, close everything, even the entrance! Open only to those we know. If any bastard lurks here, shoot them. Emma, take care of Killian and I’ll look around to see if the coast is clear. “
Will acted like a newly minted training officer, his voice authoritative, but Emma had no intention of arguing with him. Mary Margaret merely nodded, indicating that she agreed with the order, and Will slipped out the door into the storm. Mary Margaret slammed the door behind him and began to put the locks on.
The house, like most of the buildings nearby, remained intact, probably because it was a rather sparsely populated area and the residents didn’t return to their homes until late in the evening. That was why David had chosen this apartment, and Emma could now see how good that decision had been. It saved their lives today.
She decided it would be best if she took Killian directly to the upstairs bathroom. She put her arm around his waist and lifted his arm so that it was around her neck. They started walking, slowly, at his pace. They made it their way up the stairs relatively quickly and stumbled into the bathroom. Killian lowered himself onto the edge of the bathtub while she retrieved a bandage from the cabinet and two towels with old bloodstains.
Yeah, well, she’d patched David up a few times too. It wasn’t her first rodeo.
“Are you completely out of your freaking mind? You could’ve died!” She couldn’t hold back her frustration any longer as she walked up to him.
It seemed so absurd, the way he sat there on the edge of the tub, in the flickering orange light of the ceiling lamp, with blood dripping from his skin.
“It’s nothing, Swan. I’ve had it worse itching my nose with the wrong hand,” he replied, looking kind of tired.
She turned up the heater a little, though she doubted Killian was cold at all. “You’re crazy,” she muttered, shaking her head as she gently reached for his chin and turned his head to the side so she could get a closer look at the wound on his temple. His five o’clock shadow tingled her fingertips.
“A simple thank you would suffice.” His lips twisted into a smile and Emma rolled her eyes. She believed he must be feeling better.
“Okay. Thanks. But don’t do that again! Look at your hand, too! By the time I’m done picking out the shards itbe will be morning,” she grumbled, but she wasn’t annoyed by the potential night’s work, but by Killian’s ability to be completely insane.
As if he didn’t care about his life at all.
“Okay, I don’t think that needs stitches,” she said after cleaning his face. He calmly let her treatment wash over him without making a sound. She could see, however, that he was gritting his teeth as she reached for his wrist.
“They’ll come out on their own soon enough,” Killian said with a shrug as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
She gave him a withering look and he seemed a little embarrassed.
“Oh, yeah. And in the meantime, you’d be screaming in pain, completely beside yourself. I saw what happened in the car when your body was trying to get rid of the shards. No, don’t even try to deny it,” she waved him off as he opened his mouth.
She spread one of the towels on his lap. “Now, hold on, this is not going to be pleasant…” she warned, then grabbed the largest shard of glass as carefully as she could and pulled it out with a determined motion.
She could feel his whole body twitch, but only a soft hiss left his lips.
“Is your hand going to be okay? I mean, a human would definitely not be able to use it after that…” She tried to make him talk and distract him so he paid as little attention as possible to what she was doing.
“Sure,” he nodded, then glanced down at his hand. “It’ll be as good as new in two days at the most.”
“Two days?” she asked, puzzled. “But so far your wounds have healed much faster…”
“The healing doesn’t always work that well… It’s um… periodic,” he muttered, wincing again as she plucked out another piece.
In fifteen minutes, she had managed to remove all the shards from his hand. He didn’t say a word during the “surgery”, but when the bandage was applied around his palm, he let out a barely audible sigh of relief.
“Thank you, love. I’ll go down and see if Will is back…”
“We’re not done yet,” she informed him as she grabbed another towel and reached for his shirt as a matter of course, completely forgetting herself.
“Oh, there’s no need, it’s really not serious…” He shook his head, almost in fright, and tried to bounce off the edge of the tub, but the result was a painful “oomph”.
“I can see that. Don’t be such a child, I promise I’ll be careful.”
“No.” His eyes gleamed with horror and his face flushed.
She grinned against her will.
Well, well.
“Are you… seriously shy?” She burst out laughing.
When she noticed Killian’s cold and impatient look, her sudden joy evaporated.
“Sorry, I was just surprised,” she apologized, and at his grim look she began to wonder why he really didn’t want to take his shirt off. “Look, Killian, I really didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to-”
“It’s alright,” he waved off her apology. “Just leave that here and I’ll take care of the rest.” He gestured to the first aid kit next to the sink.
“How? You can’t even use your hand. Let me help you,” she pleaded softly.
“I’ll figure it out,” he continued stubbornly.
She couldn’t understand why he was so opposed to her help. What does he think is going to happen? That she would run screaming out the door screaming at the sight of a male torso? Come on.
When her eyes fell on his face, she realized it was exactly what he was afraid of, and her cheeks grew hot again. It wasn’t nice of her to laugh earlier.
“Arms up! I want to see it,” she declared firmly, stepping closer to him.
“Pardon?”
“You heard me,” she sighed, reaching for the hem of his shirt and was about to pull it up, but Killian, anticipating her intention, captured her hand.
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” He stared at her in shock.
“I’m undressing you,” she replied with a sly grin to make him relax and not feel so uncomfortable.
She had to look at the wound, he had already lost a lot of blood. Unfortunately, he wasn’t immortal, he couldn’t survive everything, even if he sometimes acted the opposite.
“You know this is sexual harassment, don’t you?” he finally smiled. He seemed amused by her impatience. She, on the other hand, was immensely relieved. Sometimes, he really did act like a man-child. It was much better to see him like this than angry and desperate, so she felt better, too.
“So sue me,” she played along, letting out a soft laugh. “Now, come on, arms up!”
He grumbled for another half minute, but then, at the sight and knowledge of the amount of blood he had lost, he changed his mind and bitterly raised both his arms — as far as his wounds would allow — and she pulled off the once black, now rather dark red, blood-soaked fabric. She tossed it into the laundry basket, then turned to Killian, and on a sudden impulse, brushed a lock of his dark hair from his forehead.
Looking down, she immediately understood why he protested, but she didn’t even flinch when she saw the many scars and scalds tarnishing his lightly sun-kissed skin. It was nowhere near as repulsive as he believed and expressed. He tried to cover a larger scar with a tattoo of a compass, with more or less success. The drawing was beautiful, the motif was adorned with an unknown type of flower, but it still couldn’t quite hide what Killian wanted so badly. On the other hand, his upper body was muscular and lean, the dark hair that always peeked out from under his shirt spilling across his chest.
“Beautiful, is it not?” his voice tinged with intense irony.
“I really like the compass. It goes well with your pirate shtick you got going,” she replied, pointing to his earring and eyeliner, noticing how his eyes bore into her in amazement. “You look really good,” it slipped from her lips before she could even think about what she was saying. She would have liked the ground to just swallow her because she didn’t want to let him know that directly. She could feel her cheeks reddening dangerously fast.
“You really don’t see…”
“Of course I see them, Killian. But those are just a few scars. Now stop being a child and sit back down. Or if you can stand through it, then by all means.”
As she cleaned the wound above his belly button, she felt his eyes boring into her head. She tried to focus on the cut, which, unfortunately, needed stitches. It was long and deep enough, but thankfully free of broken glass. Killian was obviously not concerned about her having to stick a needle into his stomach without anesthesia.
“It wouldn’t be the first time. I have had to endure this before,” he said with a shrug. “I can suffer through it now, too.”
Only a few quiet groans escaped his lips during the entire procedure.
“I think it’s done,” she announced solemnly after bandaging the remaining minor wounds.
She tossed the two bloody towels into the wash next to his shirt, which he probably wouldn’t use again.
When she finished cleaning up, she walked over to the tiny window and glanced out over the city. The rain was tapping rhythmically on the glass, and from here, in this part of town, everything seemed fine. The world showed every sign of being peaceful again, and today’s events just seemed improbable, as if it were just a nightmare she had finally woken up from.
She leaned against the cool tiles and turned her head toward Killian. He poked at the bandage on his stomach and managed to put a smile on her face. Few would use the word ‘cute’ to describe him, but that was the first word that came to mind as she watched him.
After he finished fiddling with the gauze, he lifted his eyes to hers, and after some hesitation, walked slowly over to her, but for some reason, she felt that his unusually leisurely pace had nothing to do with his injuries.
“Thank you,” he finally blurted out when he had been standing in front of her for a good half-minute, and that made her smile.
Was that why he put his body so close to hers? To thank her? Well, not that it bothered her. In fact, his closeness felt frighteningly good. Her fingers reached out to him almost involuntarily, longing for him to embrace her. To kiss her.
She was still scared to death of her own thoughts and feelings, and was half sure that she had just fallen into his trap like a silly little mouse and it would be very painful to get out of it. But for now, she wanted to enjoy the pleasure of this “cheese” and forget about what was probably still waiting for her.
“You’re welcome.” She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
Was it right? Not right? Was it allowed? Or was it forbidden? Honestly, she really didn’t care about the answers, she just wanted him, plain and simple. She wanted to live with the knowledge that someone really and truly loved her. A small glimmer of hope lit up in front of her, and that was enough for her to solidify her decision. She trusted Killian. She wanted to trust him. He would never hurt her.
While she had thought that would be the case with every guy in her past, they had all turned out to be major disappointments.
He must have seen the desperate and frightened look on her face. He took a step back, but as if her arm had taken on a life of its own, she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back.
“Swan? Are you all right?” He tried to decipher her thoughts through her eyes, but she wouldn’t let him. She closed her eyes and turned her face away from his scrutinizing gaze.
“No. Nothing’s all right,” she murmured, more to herself, but of course Killian understood her every word crystal clear.
He lifted his hand and gently stroked her face with his thumb, and she let her cheek rest in his palm as her heartbeat quickened.
“You’re not afraid of me, are you?”
“Killian, I’m afraid of almost everyone,” she admitted, and she thought she had managed to surprise him again with her answer.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he assured her, and she had to grimace. But for him, she was happy to believe it. Oh, sweet, blissful ignorance.
He put his arms around her waist and hugged her, and she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. His hot breath tickled her skin on the side of her head and she melted completely into the embrace. She lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck, snuggling up to his entire body as her heart tried to burst through her ribs with a furious thump.
“Shh, calm down, lass. It’s alright.” He stroked her hair and she didn’t understand why, but a single tear rolled down her cheek. He was too kind. Until now he had been like a rock, but she had seen the real Killian, and was no longer fooled by the tough and stoic exterior. She could trust him.
“Do you want me to leave?” It wasn’t an accusation, just a polite offer. He couldn’t decide what would be better for her and he wasn’t alone in this dilemma.
“No. Stay.” She pressed tighter against him and he stroked her back reassuringly. He lifted his head from her shoulder and leaned over to her again. He pressed an innocent kiss to her lips, hesitant as a teenager on a first date.
Until it became anything but.
Emboldened, he tasted her lips with renewed passion when he saw she didn’t protest at all. The softness of his mouth and the gentle advance of his tongue spoke to her, giving him permission and fiercely returning the kiss she so dreaded, yet so longed for.
Gently, she ran her sharpened nails over his back, careful not to break his exposed skin. She could feel the scars beneath her fingers, weaving thickly around his skin. Her heart sank, for he deserved a much better life than his wounds told her.
He took a deep breath, sighed into the kiss, then his lips left hers in favor of the side of her neck. He bit gently into the sensitive, heated skin and kissed her, when the bathroom door suddenly flew wide open.
Killian threw his head back in surprise, and Emma blinked over his shoulder in alarm.
Ruby stood in the doorway with her mouth and eyes wide open. With a similar expression, Eloise stood behind her. Then, within seconds, they thankfully overcame their minor shock. Ruby’s mouth twisted into a wide grin, but Eloise just stared rather unkindly at Emma.
“I see you’re feeling much better, Killian,” Ruby remarked with a mischievous grin. ”Emma’s first aid skills are spot on, they don’t need us here. Come on, Eloise,” she chuckled, and then quietly closed the door behind them.
“Great,” she muttered dejectedly.
“What’s wrong?” He pulled her to his chest again.
“Eloise is going to run straight to David with the news.”
“And?” He didn’t seem to give the slightest thought to what that meant.
“And David made me promise that I would stay away from you. I guess you know he doesn’t like you very much…”
What was the little bitch doing here, anyway?
“Of course I know that. He’s already made it perfectly clear and even threatened me,” he added. It seemed that David’s behavior only amused him. Her, not so much.
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I haven’t had a chance to. It just happened last night when we came back from the woods. Somehow it got through to him that we were out there together,” he replied calmly, David’s hostility not troubling him in the slightest.
“But what exactly did he say to you?” She was deeply upset by her brother’s behavior. What the hell had he been thinking? Threatening Killian? She couldn’t believe it.
“Just the usual thing when one’s brother is worried about who his sister is spending her time with. He told me that if I so much as touched you with a finger, I’d surely regret it. That he would beat the crap out of me. Oh, and that he would castrate me. I think that’s all of it.” he grinned.
“I’ll talk to him later. But you should rest now—”
“No, I’m completely fine,” he protested, as if he was more afraid of being in bed than David himself. “And I should go anyway—”
“Go? Go where?” she asked, confused.
“I have a few… things to do,” he blurted out reluctantly.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not going to tell me what?”
What the hell was so urgent?
“Because I’m not going to,” he answered quietly. “Maybe later—”
“Killian, don’t do this,” she groaned in exasperation. Why was he being so goddamn secretive again?
“Just trust me, love. I promise I won’t do anything… wrong.”
She turned her head away from him. “Go get some rest in my room, I think the guest room is occupied now. I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in the same room with David,” she murmured, turning to leave the bathroom. But before she could do that, Killian grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back.
“Swan, don’t do this. If I could, I would tell you.” He held her face between his hands and scanned her face anxiously.
“Okay,” she replied softly. “I’m not mad, I’m just… scared.” She took his hands and pulled them away from her face. “Take care of yourself!”
She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. He stared at her for a while, then she hurried out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her.
-/-
Killian didn’t come after her, although she stood outside the door for several more minutes. But not a sound came from the room, and she finally made her way down the stairs to meet the other members of their ragtag group. Eloise, as usual, stared at her with a cold expression on her face and the hatred in her eyes didn’t subside. Ruby blinked at her in surprise, obviously questioning the absence of Killian beside her. Will, Mary Margaret, and the guy named Arthur lingered under the arch that led to the kitchen while August and David argued heatedly about something.
Emma stood hesitantly at the foot of the stairs for a few seconds, but before she could bring herself to scold her brother and the Elf, David pushed himself off the wall and walked right up to her. He gave her a dagger-like look, but she suspected hers was similar. This time she wasn’t impressed by his anger.
“Where is he? Is he in your room?” He tried to march up the stairs beside her, but of course, she wouldn’t let him, stepping in front of him and pushing him back to the foot of the stairs.
“Leave him alone! He needs to rest. And by the way, in case you haven’t heard, he just saved my life! And Mary Margaret’s. And if I remember correctly, he saved your life, too,” she growled, apparently loud enough that everyone in the room turned to look at her.
“I don’t care! I talked to him and that’s not what we agreed on!” David hissed.
“That’s not what happened. You threatened him, that doesn’t exactly fall under the category of agreement,” she raised her voice and her brother became even angrier. The whole thing was turning into a full-blown argument. But it was too late for her to stop herself, David had managed to piss her off irrevocably.
“Don’t you realize that I only want what’s best for you? That bastard is just taking advantage of you! And I’m going to talk to him now, whether you like it or not! I don’t even care if he’s dying!” he shouted in her face, pushing past her and striding up the stairs. She stumbled against the banister and almost fell over.
“David! Stop right there!” she shouted after him and hurried up the stairs as well. She took two at a time so she could catch up with him. She almost managed to grab a hold of his sweater, but it slipped from her fingers.
He dashed down the hall, straight to the door leading to her room, and burst through without knocking. He opened his mouth in surprise.
“David!” She was at the end of her patience, his ridiculous behavior had to stop.
“I told you!” David’s triumphant grin confused her and she came to a halt.
She stepped up beside him, confused, and a little afraid.
To her surprise, the room was completely empty and the window was wide open. The dark blue muslin curtain was swirled around by the cold, biting wind.
Icy fear coursed through her limbs and she couldn’t believe her eyes. He was gone.
“Why are you so surprised about this? I told you he was just a petty—”
“Shut up!” she shook her head and stumbled into the room.
Killian obviously hadn’t rested on the bed for even a second, the bedclothes were completely untouched. She walked over to the window and leaned over, but there was no sign of him outside.
“Seriously, Emma, I don’t know what you were expecting. I thought you’d be smarter than that. He played the gentleman and you fell into his arms the first chance you got. That’s not you.” David shook his head and continued to ignore her completely. “I have no idea how he managed to seduce you, but I bet you anything that he was lying through his teeth.” Emma tried not to pay attention to David’s words, but each sentence reverberated uncomfortably in her head, and she felt like her skull would crack if he kept talking. He didn’t seem to care in the least that every single word hurt her physically. She slumped on the bed and buried her face in her hands.
“Did you really think that beast would turn into a lovesick puppy-dog? And now I’m the bad guy for trying to warn you! Now look at you! This is exactly what I was trying to prevent…” David’s voice gradually softened and then fell silent.
Emma felt him sit down next to her on the bed. He tried to hug her, but she pushed him away. She was still angry. “Get out! Leave me alone!” She pushed him off the bed and barely waited for him to get to his feet before she shoved him out of the room. Once he was outside, she slammed the door with all her might, and the bang echoed through the empty hallway. She didn’t understand what had come over her, she was afraid of herself. She was acting like a crazy person.
She plopped back down on the bed and tried to convince herself of Killian’s innocence. He couldn’t have tricked her, but… everyone thought she was wrong about him. What if they were right?
She didn’t understand herself or what was happening to her. Why was she so upset? Surely he couldn’t be that important to her. It didn’t make sense that she had gotten caught in this particular trap. There had to be a way out. An escape.
No! Everything was all right! Killian would definitely be back tomorrow, and then she would discuss everything with him. Everything would be fine, she had nothing to worry about!
She took a deep breath and the thought that everything would be settled tomorrow calmed her down.
Her gaze slid to her desk, where at least half a dozen photos adorned her homemade picture frames. Her favorite, however, had been carved by Neal. She knew he had been working on it for over a week, but his hard work had paid off, it had turned out beautifully.
She put her favorite picture of them in it, it fit perfectly in the frame with the tree leaves intertwined. In the picture, they were lying on their backs in the woods behind the house, facing each other. Their heads were side by side and for once, he was the one holding the phone. She was always the one taking pictures like crazy, capturing everything she liked.
She picked up the frame and gently stroked the smooth, cool surface of the glass, and for a moment, the fading, silvery glow of the moon shimmered on the picture. Neal never lied to her, he never hid anything from her.
Her thoughts returned to Killian, she couldn’t help but think of him. Had he really lied to her? It didn’t make sense, because why would he do that? But then what did he have to hide?
The only thing she was sure of was that David had managed to rattle her again. The thought that Killian might be leading her on hurt like hell, and it settled relentlessly in her mind.
She glanced at the photo again. She missed Neal terribly and the security that only he had given her so far in her life. Guilt also curled in her stomach with renewed force; she felt like she was betraying him. And she felt like she was betraying herself as well, because she had promised never to let anyone near her again. But Killian managed that too; she had undoubtedly fallen in love with something in him.
She hugged the picture to her chest and leaned back on the bed. Joyfully, she surrendered to the sweet, empty nothingness that suddenly weighed on her. She enjoyed the almost intoxicating coolness of the wind caressing her face and every thought slowly left her mind…
-/-
She didn’t think there was another fool in the house who could wake up at four in the morning and wander into the kitchen, but she was clearly mistaken. August seemed to have been sitting there for a long time when she entered, with only the flickering light of the candle in the center of the table to keep him company. He propped his chin on his palm and stared into the small flame. He didn’t even look up when she entered.
She deliberately refrained from greeting him, trudged stubbornly to the refrigerator, grabbing a jug of milk, and took a big gulp.
“What are you doing up so early, Emma? Or did you not go to sleep at all?” August finally looked at her, and his cautious gaze worried her a little. He studied her ruefully.
She was already thinking of a biting retort when he sighed and pulled one of the chairs toward her.
“Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
That piqued her interest, and she quickly decided she wasn’t going to be a jerk this time.
Without saying a word, she walked over to the offered chair and took a seat. She placed the milk in front of her and looked questioningly at August. “So talk.”
“It’s about Killian,” he began with an embarrassed cough. “Over the course of the evening, I have noticed something that I just can’t place. You probably already know more about it than I do, and it will no doubt make more sense to you—”
“August, I swear to God…” she warned and he immediately continued.
“I don’t know if you know this man, Arthur—”
“No, I don’t know him. Can you get to the point?” she interrupted him impatiently. Her nerves were on the verge of snapping.
“All right, I’ll tell you. So, the Guild’s bounty hunters came up in a conversation. I’m sure you’ve heard about them.”
“Maybe David mentioned them once. They’ve done spying and assassinations in the past. But I thought their activities were banned years ago. How is that relevant now?” She raised her eyebrow. August’s expression wasn’t reassuring in the least. He was clearly torn, which was not at all in keeping with his habits, and his always determined actions were evaporating.
“The group of the Bounty Hunters hasn’t been disbanded at all, and Arthur is one of them. I was surprised when he told me that. They’re not exactly shouting it from the rooftops. But it doesn’t matter, it’s up to him to decide how much he wants to blab about his own life. But he also told me something much more interesting,” August remarked somberly.
“What is it? Please just say what you want to say!”
“So Arthur is working as a spy, infiltrating the Vampires and other creatures. He said the new leader had been chosen before yesterday’s disaster, but under somewhat stormy circumstances. The two most likely candidates were someone named Regina and Zelena, Vampire sisters. Which is why it’s shocking what happened. Regina killed her sister and declared that anyone who would dare to question her power, would find death. And yesterday’s bloodbath was arranged at her request and in her honor,” August explained, watching her face carefully, waiting for her reaction like a predator lying in wait for prey, but she was very careful not to twitch a single facial muscle. She didn’t want to give anything away, certainly not about Killian’s past.
She stared at August impassively. “Yeah? This is all very interesting, but I still don’t understand the connection. What does any of this have to do with Killian?”
“Then you know very little about your knight in black armor,” he snorted harshly.
“What are you talking about?” she whispered, freezing in her chair. She was beginning to have a very bad feeling.
“Arthur had to spend a lot of time in that filth and mentioned that he saw Killian there an inordinate amount of times, plus he moved in pretty elite circles, so to speak. He seemed to be very good friends with their leader, Regina. However, Killian is not one of the Bounty Hunters of the Guild, at least not as far as Arthur knows. And that’s more than suspicious, because usually, they know about each other. If you’re not a Bounty Hunter, you can’t do missions like that at all.”
Emma didn’t answer, she had no idea what to say. Her mind was completely blank, just staring at August. She seemed unable to digest and comprehend what she had heard the first time.
“It’s a lie,” she finally whispered. That was the only explanation. Killian would never do such a thing, he was…
“Emma, listen to me! If he really was a spy, he should have reported to the Council that night, along with Arthur and—”
“How do you know he didn’t?” she snarled, losing her patience. That was it! That was the solution! Killian worked for the Hunters too, but he just didn’t tell anyone he was a spy! A triumphant grin spread across her face. She knew Killian was innocent.
“I know because Arthur returned a few hours ago and the Council hasn’t heard from your precious boyfriend in over twenty-four hours.”
CS Neverland New Year 2022: “Hearts Like Wildflowers”
Summary: He was used to the darkness until she brought light into his life with her wild blonde curls and prickly attitude. Even on this godforsaken island, she manages to make him feel alive. (Canon Divergent from 3x06)
A/N: this is my contribution to @neverlandnewyear. This is my first time participating in this event, and I couldn’t be more excited to share this story with all of you! Hope you like it!
He didn’t plan to kiss her again, but it happened anyway.
They have been wandering the jungle for hours. They were still trying to locate Pan’s hideout and had split up from the others, which, if anyone had listened to him, was a bad idea.
The air is so steamy and humid it feels like it’s raining. Her blonde ponytail has doubled in size, with soft curls springing everywhere. It fascinates him a bit as he follows her, trying to figure out how to get her to let him take the lead. Even if he is enjoying the view. Now he’s convinced he can’t get them more turned around than they already are.
“Hey, you hear that? It’s a nightingale, supposedly a symbol of love and anticipation,” he says, trying to make conversation and keep his voice matter-of-fact, standing still. She turns to look at him and starts back in his direction, and he has no idea if she wants to punch him or just walk past him because they have passed that moss-ridden rock three times already.
But her foot catches on something when she almost makes it in front of him, and she stumbles. Her hand reaches out, landing against his chest. He puts his hand and hook on her arms to steady her. She looks up at him, her green eyes wide, and her lips slightly parted. She is very, very close to him.
Oh, bloody hell, he thinks with a harsh intake of breath. Then his hand and hook on her arms draw her against him, and he closes his eyes and kisses her.
