the most perfect emma ever

CaptainSwan FF One-shots Recs p.5

Hello Beautiful Fandom, look I made another rec list! Thanks to CS AU Week we have some lovely new one shots featuring our favorite couple, but this list also includes some old one-shots that I believe you should check out, If you haven’t already. Hope you enjoy.

You can find here my other lists as well. 

Side note, I try to tag the authors by their tumblr name, but I couldn’t find some, if you know it, let me know. 

But Consider This…Aliens, @welllpthisishappening

Killian Jones is going to lose his mind. He’s never going to sleep again. Because there is an alien living in the apartment above his. And maybe he’s ok with it. Yeah, definitely losing his mind.

Prompt, @its-imperator-furiosa

Emma and Killian has been dating for a while but they haven’t tell their friends yet, because they don’t know how Emma’s brother David will react, since he ones told Killian to not go near his sister, but he walks on them kissing or something and he yells Finally.

Past the Clouds, We’ll Find the Stars, @blowmiakisscolin

CS + Adoption and more: A dash of angst, a sprinkling of humor & a whole lotta fluff.

Prompt, @initiala

You buy your man a mug without looking inside… 

it’s a party in the usa, @jmosfreckles

A Fourth of July AU written for CS AU week day 1: Holiday AU. America vs. Great Britain antics ensue.

Old Habits Die Hard, Ok?, @jmosfreckles

I kissed you goodbye on accident - old habits die hard, ok?!

worth the risk, worth the guarantee, @piratesails

The rule is simple enough: don’t fall for your best friend. No matter how loudly her laugh echoes in your head in the middle of the night, or how beautifully endearing the freckles that climb up her arms look under the afternoon sun. Every single movie and book and story he’s come across has warned him of this in one way or another.

And yet, Killian finds it hard to run out of reasons why Emma Swan is the most perfect person he has and will ever meet.

Unhand the Carnations, @blowmiakisscolin

CS Flower Thief AU: I saw a prompt on Tumblr (see notes) and I did a thing. Emma catches Killian stealing flowers from her garden and assumes he’s being a cheap date. She insists on coming with him to find out whether the girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft…and he doesn’t know how to break it to her that he’s taking the flowers to the graveyard.

Never Drinking Again, @its-like-a-story-of-love

Emma Swan wakes up on her 21st birthday with no recollection of what happened the night before. All she has to piece everything together are her Snapchat story and a handsome stranger. (Drunken Snapchat story AU) 

You Make Me Better, @ilovemesomekillianjones

CS Neighbors AU where Emma is a nurse and Killian is her definitely-faking-it hypochondriac neighbor who uses illnesses and injuries as an excuse to talk to her.

You Look Happier, @cutieodonoghue

Radio DJ David Nolan’s sister Emma moves to town to be close to him as he prepares for his upcoming wedding to Mary Margaret. Maybe he’s just a little bit crazy from wedding stress, but he kinda wants to set her up with his co-host and best friend Killian. 

i’m missing you like crazy, @cutieodonoghue

“Established long distance relationship, one of them surprises the other by showing up right before midnight [on New Years Eve].” with a side helping of vloggers au! (a mixture of angst and fluff beyond this point)  

already in love,   @icapturedkindness

For CS AU week beloved tropes - friends to lovers.

a dare and a truth…, @startswithhope

Bed sharing prompt: “Would you please get comfortable and go the fuck to sleep already?”

Body Say, @seriouslyhooked

AU where Emma and Killian are neighbors in Boston. Emma gets home from a girls night only to stumble upon Killian who she has been crushing on since he moved in. Sparks fly and it is basically just a mini smut fest if I’m honest, but we then get a flash forward to see what happens with Emma and Killian in the future. I’m sure I have done a oneshot or two like this before, but hey, we can always use more fluff right?

Frigging in the Rigging, @passing-fanciful

Friends do things for other friends’ birthdays. No big deal, right?

Camped Out,  @always-a-slut-for-pirates

A reluctant Emma goes camping with David, Mary Margaret and Killian.

the love boat, @captainnagata

“How good is your mother with dealing with the unexpected?”

“Why?”

“Because ship captains have the power to officiate weddings and the idea of her own daughter entering a marriage in a matter of days, on a cruise, could sober her up enough to leave you alone for good.”

a (sort of) cinderella story, @jennifer-morrison

sure she sits with him for a while after he’s put henry to bed following a late stakeout and sure she invites him over to make dinner more often than she doesn’t but that’s their usual. it isn’t because she likes him, likes him.
(no one tell henry he agreed to this silly masquerade because he likes, likes her, okay?)

something so magic about you, @mycaptainswanjones

Emma Swan just found the perfect gift for Mary Margaret’s birthday. The only problem? A blue-eyed stranger with a ridiculously attractive face and accent just stole it from right under her nose. Modern AU. Captain Swan.

The Kinship Harvest, @thesschesthair

We’re going to pretend the portal at the end of S3 never opened and Zelena was defeated without any interruptions. We’re also going to pretend Emma couldn’t go through with leaving for New York much to everyone’s relief. We’re also going to pretend that I can make up a believable holiday for the Enchanted forest lol.

Untitled, @distant-rose

Emma Swan is a crusty twice divorced bailsbond person who is a lone wolf by nature, excluding the company of her seven-year old son, of course. Her occasional companion of choice is a Seattle detective who is also a divorcee and an ex-military guy who got his hand blown off on some super secret Black Op mission in Afghanistan. Killian Jones is nearly as crusty as Emma and a closet sci-fi nerd who never fails to help Emma with a difficult skip or babysit her son last minute. There’s always been an unspoken attraction between them that’s held back by their memory of their failed marriages.

The Worst/Best Christmas Ever,  @captainhookcaptainfreedom

When their flight home is cancelled, Emma is convinced that she and Henry are going to have the worst Christmas ever. However, their next store neighbor, Killian Jones, has different ideas. 

stranger to the ground, @evil–isnt–born

Test pilot Killian Jones and engineer Emma Swan spend their days making history as part of the Avro Arrow program. When the program is suddenly cancelled and the jets ordered destroyed, the choice becomes whether to let it become a thing of the past or save a piece of their shared history.

STRAIGHT AS AN ARROW (TO YOU),  @nightships 

The Avro Arrow program was a shining beacon for Canada - when it was cancelled, questions went unanswered, and reporter Emma Swan has no intentions of leaving them that way. Major Killian Jones couldn’t agree less, especially given his own history with the program, but Emma wouldn’t be Emma if she let that stop her.

Too Hot (Hot Damn), @this-too-too-sullied-flesh

Emma just doesn’t know what’s hotter–the weather and the fact that the air conditioning is out in her building, or her neighbor.

stop talking in codescocoa-and-rum

Killian Jones has been in love with Emma Swan for as long as he can remember. He often told himself it wouldn’t be wise to fall for his best friend, but his heart has a queer way of never listening to his brain, especially when a breathtakingly alluring woman with pretty green eyes and lovely blonde waves is involved.

1-2 Crush on You, @allrightfine

“We’ll skip all this, go right to a place where you’re more comfortable. We’ll want to aim for that sweet spot between knowing all those little idiosyncrasies and them becoming annoying, I’d imagine.” (vaguely Halloween-flavored AU smutty fluff!).

A Lifetime of Kissing, @justanotherwannabeclassic

There were many things that were becoming of a princess. The ability to carry on polite conversation, fluency in many languages, and an appreciation of both the arts and sciences were such things. What wasn’t becoming of a princess was drunkenly marrying a Naval lieutenant while on a diplomatic visit to a nearby kingdom. (Lieutenant Duckling).

On this weeks’ episode of, “Alana Copes with Once Upon a Time,” Emma Swan is really f*cking angry because her life isn’t a goddamn fairy tale and anyone who thinks otherwise is a naive garbage dumpster. Also, congratulations on the engagement you guys, seriously. btw, swears abound. @abbadons-little-witch @the-reason-to-sail-home xo

+ Here’s the thing about Emma Swan’s mental state in the moments following a confession she should have heard two days ago: she’s angry. And sure, she’s angry at Killian, because, yes, of course, you tell the woman you plan to marry the finer points of the darkish past before the proposal, but he’s not the only fuck-up between the two of them. The first emotion she feels is anger, because, quite honestly, it’s easier than being sad. Turning around and walking away is easier than being sad. 

Keep reading

the darling @startswithhope​ tagged me in this top 5/bottom 5 kudos fic meme
rules: tag the person who tagged you, always post the rules, answer the questions, and add the date!

as of 4th september 2017 on ao3:

top 5:
(most to least)

A Million Shores and Bays: It isn’t exactly her fault she’s come to trust a man she’s never met over, well, any other man she’s actually met. It’s what makes all of it safer, easier even, knowing that there’s no way she can actually fuck it all up by running away when she’s already away to begin with. Pen Pals AU. (multichapter, completed)

Breaking the Hinges: When Killian Jones decides to spend his night off relaxing in his apartment, the last thing he expects is a beautiful blonde woman bursting through his front door. Modern Neighbors AU. (multichapter, wip)  

worth the risk, worth the guarantee: The rule is simple enough: don’t fall for your best friend. No matter how loudly her laugh echoes in your head in the middle of the night, or how beautifully endearing the freckles that climb up her arms look under the afternoon sun. Every single movie and book and story he’s come across has warned him of this in one way or another. And yet, Killian finds it hard to run out of reasons why Emma Swan is the most perfect person he has and will ever meet. (one-shot)

first day of my life: Killian has never been one to give in. No matter how shitty the hand he’s been dealt. Because, really, Times Square on New Year’s Eve just as the ball’s about to drop? Bloody hell, you’ve got to be kidding him. Soulmate AU where you get a tattoo telling you the time and place you’ll meet them. (one-shot)

evergreen: “I rented the apartment above your flower shop and in the last two months you’ve gotten a new flower I’m allergic to so I keep buying bouquets until I can figure out which kind it is.” (one-shot)

bottom 5:
(least to most)

now that you’re here: A series of one-shots following Emma and Killian through parenthood, set in an AU future where big bads aren’t a problem. Pure unadulterated fluff. (multi-shot)

hanging on the wire: “You were making faces to a friend of yours behind me and I thought it was for me and waved back. OMG this is embarrassing.” Musician AU. (one-shot)

if you give a little, so will I: Set during 3x09. Emma thanks Hook for taking them to Neverland. (one-shot)

buckle some swash: Then again, they never could keep their hands off one another. Pirate Captains AU. (one-shot)

heaven and hell were words to me: Killian thinks about his life and his death after he and Emma finally return home. (one-shot)    

tagging @jennifer-morrison, @bisexual-killian-jones, @thejollypirate, @cutieodonoghue, @captainstudmuffin, @starlessness and @high-seas-swan if you’re so inclined <3 

8
Updated Fic Recs (2)

The fourth in an unofficial series of posts in which I recommend my favorite CS fics from the past few months and compel you to read them. 

Previous: Captain Swan Multi-Chapter Fic RecsCaptain Swan One Shot Fic RecsUpdated Fic Recs 


Among Other Foolish Things by @blessed-but-distressed

“i have a crush on you and i’m too chicken to confess and you’re going for a 3 month trip to paris so i’m sure you’ll return with a sophisticated girlfriend while i’m a mess (optional sabotaging the trip)” FF.net Tumblr

Say Yes to the Dress by @captainswanluver

Snow convinces Emma to try on the new wedding dress in the store window across from Granny’s, despite the fact that she and Killian are not yet engaged.  But news travels quickly in Storybrooke and word soon gets back to Killian. FF.net Tumblr

Zemblanity by @lenfaz

William Boyd coined the term zemblanity to mean somewhat the opposite of serendipity: “making unhappy, unlucky and expected discoveries occurring by design”. A zemblanity is, effectively, an “unpleasant unsurprise”. It derives from Novaya Zemlya (or Nova Zembla), a cold, barren land with many features opposite to the lush Sri Lanka (Serendip). Soulmates gone wrong AU. FF.net Tumblr

It Runs in the Family by @mahstatins

Henry walking in on CS like Emma and Henry walked in on Snowing in season 2. Tumblr

It Was Real (It’s Real) by @i-know-how-you-kiss

The first thing they tell Emma Swan when she takes the job at the State Penitentiary’s infirmary, is to never fall in love with an inmate. It’s not that hard of a rule to adhere to, or so she thinks, until Killian Jones breezes into her life like the perfect storm – covered in tattoos, dashing to no end, brilliant of mind, incessantly mysterious – and promptly turns her world on end. (Prison Break AU) AO3 Tumblr

Untitled by @nephilimchloe

“we broke up after I left and moved away and months later I find you that you rushed to the airport to stop me but you were too late” AU. AO3 Tumblr

My Constellation by @caprelloidea

Emma is a bailbonds person, Killian a scientist. His research puts him at sea for several weeks in the summer, and after a slew of lengthy separations, this one just about pushes them past their limits. FF.net Tumblr

More under the cut

Keep reading

Julian Blackthorn, the first person ever to probably come close to what love really is.

“When you love someone, they become a part of who you are. They’re in everything you do. They’re in the air you breathe and the water you drink and the blood in your veins. Their touch stays on your skin and their voice stays in your ears and their thoughts stay in your mind. You know their dreams because their nightmares pierce your heart and their good dreams are your dreams too. And you don’t think they’re perfect, but you know their flaws, the deep-down truth of them, and the shadows of all their secrets, and they don’t frighten you away; in fact you love them more for it, because you don’t want perfect. You want them.”


Out of all the books I have read Julian’s way of explaining what Love is is the most perfect one I’ve ever heard. 

that-wandering-belle  asked:

Hi love! Sorry to bother you! I know you're a Captain Swan fan too and I remember seeing some of your pretty edits for some fanfics in the past and I was wondering if you might have any CS fanfic recs? I would really appreciate it! <3

Hello, there! You’re no bother at all, and thank you! I have tons of cs fic recs. Just a note: I tag all of the edits I make for fics with #fanfiction covers (though not all are cs), and I tag all the fics I reblog (which is pretty everything I read) with #cs fic rec.

Anyways, these are all multi chapters, some are WIP and some are complete, but pretty much all include at least some smut. Hope that’s okay? Since I’m not sure what you’re looking for, these are a few of my favourites. If you want to tell me what you’re favourite tropes etc are, I can always send you more specific ones.

so, first of all, i’m going to completely shamelessly promote my own fics here:
heroes and villains:
when he is put in the alternate universe, henry knows he must find his mother and he knows just who to enlist to help him; the captain she was so in love with but when he finds hook, he’s in for a big surprise. a set of drabbles on what would happen if liam was brought back to storybrooke with emma and killian.
make you feel my love: emma swan and killian jones have been roommates ever since their not so cute meeting. however, when killian gets back with his ex-girlfriend, it raises some feelings in emma, which she has pushed down deep for years. will she confront her own fears and him, or will killian beat her to the punch, and what will he have to say to his best friend?
kindred spirits: emma swan hates killian jones - he’s arrogant and self centered but she’s stuck with him for the foreseeable future with them running in the same circles. what happens when she agrees to go camping with her friends, killian included, and what will happen when she has to get in a car with him, alone?
the fairytale bureau: killian jones and emma swan have been rivals for as long as she can remember. they were too different: he was all neat when she was all messy, she was cautious when he was all danger. when one case makes them work together, can they put aside their differences? lawyers!au.
make some noise: emma doesn’t hate her neighbour per say, she barely knows him. killian jones is an irritating, insufferable ass who’s far too cocky and confident for his own good but seriously, would it hurt him to keep the shower to a normal time like an actual human being? before she kills him.
what is this pain you call love?:  the first time she met killian jones, she was five years old and in kindergarten. and that’s the day she decided they were best friends. he promised to never leave her and always stay by her side, but everybody goes back on their promises eventually, don’t they?

onto more fics that aren’t mine:

to make your heart race: killian “hook” jones is NASCAR’s bad boy, who is forced to do some community service to clean up his act. emma swan is the counselor at the local children’s shelter who is done with men and relationships after her latest in a long stream of nightmares.
learning to love again:  in the wake of his crumbling marriage, Killian Jones turns to his best friend Emma Swan for help. Even though Emma had just ended a two year long relationship she is more than happy to welcome Killian and Nate, his eleven month old son, into her home. What neither of them expect is to learn how to love again through each other.
we own tonight:  the king and queen of arendelle are dead, lost at sea. princess emma of misthaven wishes to attend her friend elsa’s coronation. her parents agree on one condition: she accepts a bodyguard for the duration of her stay in the foreign kingdom. their choice? lieutenant killian jones, of the royal navy.
a one time thing (and other untruths): “she supposes the reason she tells him is the same reason she kept his phone number after all those weeks.” pregnancy has a way of throwing a wrench in one’s plans.
bloodlust:  a series of one shots about vampire killian jones and the woman he can’t stay away from.
fragile design: david nolan is out to protect his family, in any way that he can. he enlists the help of emma swan and killian jones to help uncover the crime boss currently living in his sleepy town of storybrooke, ME. two stubborn and damaged souls now have to come together as partners to solve a murder and maybe even save each other in the process.
6:  emma swan is not one to break the rules, but when she meets killian jones, all her beliefs about what she is capable of change. over the course of six conferences in six different cities, they give into their attraction, pretending that it’s just physical when the truth is very different. where will this infatuation lead and who will end up hurt in the end?
life unexpected:  after a tragic car accident took the lives of liam and elsa jones, killian found himself the heir to their family home, their business and their only child. despite two large holes in his heart, he thinks he finally has things under control after a year of struggle and grief. in walks emma swan gradually filling both holes in the most unexpected way.
put me in coach, i’m ready to play:  PR director emma swan moves to pittsburgh intent on restarting her life. but playboy shortstop killian jones is making her job a hell of a lot harder with his antics.
i see the light (now that i see you): emma was twenty-six when she could finally see colors, after she had lost faith in it ever happening to her. she just wasn’t quite expecting it to be him.
the new girl: heartbroken emma swan needs a place to live - fast. killian, robin and Ddve had a spare room. surely nothing could go wrong here? surely ladies man killian jones can resist her charms? and surely there is no chance of straight talking emma swan falling for the hot english guy across the hallway?
with this ring: this was just about the dumbest idea she had ever heard. marry a guy she barely knew? but sometimes desperate people do crazy things. and crazy things can sometimes be the best things you ever do…
sometimes it hurts:  after 8 years of marriage, killian and emma jones are in the middle of a very public divorce. clueless to why emma is ready to end their marriage, the truth is a greater hardship than killian could ever imagine.
the reformed scoundrel: emma’s dire situation calls for desperate measures, proposing marriage to a duke seems to be the only way to protect her son, and there is just one nobleman who might consider such an outrageous offer - killian jones, the duke of hillsborough, the most notorious rake the ton has ever seen.
the perfect roommate:  emma was in desperate need of a roommate, but wasn’t finding anyone who suited her. until her brother david presented her the perfect roommate. a man who had an obsession with tidiness, who was a great cook, and most importantly … he was gay.  
off limits: she had always been like a little sister to him. until the day she came back from college and everything changed.
the usual story!: what happens when the hot guy emma yelled at in starbucks for spilling her coffee, is her devilishly handsome and rich playboy new boss killian jones?
poem without words: looking to make some extra money, college senior emma swan takes a post as a model for professor killian jones’ art class. sparks fly on both sides. will they give into temptation?
heart by heart: emma nolan, rich, famous, heiress to nolan tech, frustrated by her life, unable to get anyone to take her seriously as a businesswoman, flees to her new york life for hawaii. a chance meeting with grad student-turned-mechanic killian jones might change her life forever. if she lets it.
only for one night: pirate!killian/princess emma au. captain hook is brought before snow and charming, and sentenced to death. finding herself on the verge of being married off to the son of the dark one, emma takes matters into her own hands… including a certain pirate in her scheme.
forbidden: she is an amazon. he is greek. she is a princess. he is captured in battle. an ancient amazonian tradition brings them together but their love is forbidden. this is their story.
teenage dream: after being away from her hometown for the last nine years, emma swan returns for a visit which its sole purpose is to let go of her past once and for all. the past in the form of killian jones. but what happens when she realizes that while some things have changed, her feelings for the guy who broke her heart remained the same?
7 minutes:  "we’ve been nothing but friends for our whole lives but then we played seven minutes in heaven on a dare and now I think I might actually be in love with you.“ expect a sexy spin on the best friends secretly in love with each other trope…

literally all of this is @killianswench‘s fault. this is the longest one shot I’ve ever written (almost 12k, dear God, how) and I had such a fun time doing it. massive love to my cupcake @high-seas-swan for saving this from becoming a Hot Mess. 
modern lt. duckling based off of this perfect graphic.

worth the risk, worth the guarantee.
ao3 | ff

“How many of these do you even have?” Emma asks, poking at the side of his combat boot with the toe of her Converse.

He doesn’t need to see her to know she’s smirking. He doesn’t even need to take his eyes off the fretboard to shift his legs so that he’s managed to trap her foot in between the two of his own. She makes a small sound of annoyance but it’s all he gets in retaliation and he quietly thanks any deity listening that she’s in a good mood today. He doesn’t think he can handle more bruises on his legs, if he’s honest.

“You very well know I only own one pair, Swan.”

“How do they always look so clean?”

He glances up at her shoes, the sides of which are dirt ridden, a stain on the shoelace which could be from the ketchup she spilled on the floor two weeks ago. “I clean them,” he gives her a pointed look before adding, “unlike some people.”

He’s known Emma for the better part of his life. (And really, it’s been better because she’s been in it, as cheesy as that makes him sound.) They’d moved to Storybrooke in early October, four suitcases between his mom, Liam and him. He didn’t understand much of it at the time, but they told him it was for the best, that they were going to make a new life here. Emma had been his first - and for a long time, his only - friend in school, had for some reason chosen him to spend her days with and been practically glued to his side since. Not that he’s complaining. When you’re five years old and a cute blonde in pigtails holds your hand to tug you to the slide, it’s not something you fuss about.

And when said cute blonde turns out to be a spitfire of a teenager who’s one of the most important people in your life, that’s when you start believing in miracles.

Simply put, she’s his person. The only problem is that nothing around her has seemed simple in the last few years - the butterflies fluttering up his throat every time she laughs is evidence to that.

(Yeah, fucking cheesy, he knows.)

She huffs, placing her other leg on top of his to create some kind of pretzeled mess of limbs. To anyone else, it wouldn’t seem very comfortable, sitting on her porch stairs opposite each other, the railing digging into their backs. But to Killian, it’s familiar; they’ve been doing it since they were too small for their feet to even reach each other. It’s just another part of his life with Emma Swan that he doesn’t second guess before doing.

Some people aren’t anal,” she murmurs.

He chuckles, and focuses his attention back on his guitar, strumming the opening chords to Nine in the Afternoon, for what he feels like is the twentieth time. He thinks it might just be more than that by the way Emma groans with annoyance.

“Okay, we get it, you’re so punk rock.” She jostles his legs with hers, and breaks out into a grin when he ceases his playing.

“You’re mean.”

“You like it,” she hums.

He doesn’t argue, knowing full well that she’s hit the nail on the head on that one, even if she doesn’t realise the depth of it. He likes it, he likes her, but she’s his best friend. So, he averts his eyes to the street, instead.

They’re almost seniors; he should be able to ask out his best friend if he wants. But some part of him thinks he’s missed his moment, and another part isn’t sure she sees him as anything but the too shy, semi-awkward kid with bangs that were just a little too long.

Isn’t sure that she’d ever see him as anything that isn’t solely platonic in nature.

“Is Liam working late today?”

He nods, not daring to look back at her just yet. Liam pulls a few extra shifts at the docks for most of the summer, and considering it’s just the two of them, it gets a little lonely in the apartment.

And Emma, she knows him far too well. “Okay, then you’re staying for dinner.”

He moves to contradict her, tell her it’s no big deal, that he will not starve despite what she thinks. (She thinks he spends too much time reading and learning how to play guitar and not enough remembering to eat the food her mother sends over to him.) But before he can say anything, Emma squeezes his legs with hers.

“Don’t pick fights that you know you can’t win,” she reminds him.

Killian sighs and shakes his head. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve Emma Swan in his life, but he’s glad for whatever law of the universe that fucked up that day they met.

“You do have a penchant for besting me.”

“Somehow you keep forgetting that,” she grins, stretching her legs so the toe of her shoe knocks against his knee. “Now, music man, how about some Bowie?”

It’s his turn to groan, but he obliges. He learnt it for her, anyway.

-/-

The rule is simple enough: don’t fall for your best friend. No matter how loudly her laugh echoes in your head in the middle of the night, or how beautifully endearing the freckles that climb up her arms look under the afternoon sun. Every single movie and book and story he’s come across has warned him of this in one way or another.

And yet, Killian finds it hard to run out of reasons why Emma Swan is the most perfect person he has and will ever meet.

Maybe he reads too much (books, situations, you name it), and the roots of a hopeless romantic that were in his mother have branched out to him. It is disconcerting, and the more time he spends with her, the worse it gets.

He spends most of his time with her, so one can see how brilliantly that would go.

She spends most of summer with him, even during the days like today when he takes up the part time job at the docks by Liam’s side. It’s mainly unloading and reloading cargo, and like clockwork, by late afternoon when his shift ends, Emma strolls by with two ice cream cones in her hands at the ready.

Killian takes a cone from her and swings an arm across her shoulders as they walk along the boardwalk.

“I’ve been thinking that I’d rather like to have my own boat one day,” he says wistfully, watching the line of docked vessels. Emma’s privy to all his dreams, except well, those that involve her. Some days it feels like a secret he shouldn’t be keeping from his best friend, but then again, there’s the rule to consider.

“Planning on sailing away from your problems, Jones?”

“Doesn’t sound too bad, eh?”

“What will you name it? They always name boats, right?”

“Her,” he corrects. And when she raises a brow at him, he explains, “They’re referred to in the female pronoun, Swan. Not it, but her.”

She shakes her head at him and he expects the eye roll before it’s delivered. “Okay, sorry, didn’t mean to insult your non-existent boat,” she retorts, sounding anything but apologetic.

“And just for that, you are not invited to sail around the Atlantic with me,” he grumbles good naturedly, trying not to picture him and Emma spending all their time on a boat together. Trying to remember the rule.

“Please, you wouldn’t make it half a day without me there to pull your head out of the ocean.” Emma nudges his chest with her shoulder and smiles up at him. “Come on, what’ll you name her?”

He shrugs. “How does The Walrus sound?”

Emma crinkles her nose into her Rocky Road and he can’t help but be endeared. “What, gonna raid a few ships and kill your men while you’re at it, Captain Flint?”

He laughs, and is about to tell her that you don’t grow up in a town called Storybrooke without feeling like you’re a part of a story somehow. But Tina’s voice from across the beach cuts through his thought process and then he’s being dragged in her direction by Emma as he tries to keep his ice cream from redecorating the sand.

Somehow, he gets swept into a sandcastle making competition between Tina, Ruby, Lance and Emma. It’s good reprieve, probably, since it keeps his mind away from the rule that he has most definitely broken time and time again.

-/-

Contrary to popular (Liam’s, primarily) belief, he does have other friends. It’s simply that Emma’s friends are his friends and his are hers, and even when he hangs out with other company, she’s surely not far behind.

He’s been friends with Tina since the fourth grade, and he and Robin have been thick as thieves since they met in middle school. He’s only known Will for about a year, but they get along pretty well, too.

No one else besides Emma, though, is able to highlight his most embarrassing childhood exploits, or know when a quip becomes too much and starts getting to him.

Liam doesn’t get it, not really.

“We’re friends, brother,” Killian reminds him over breakfast for the umpteenth time. The fact that he wishes they were more is not something he wants to discuss.

“Ah, and whose fault is that?”

Killian chews on his cereal in an attempt to not deal with his nagging brother.

Liam sighs when he doesn’t respond, picking up his plate as he makes his way to the kitchen. “All I’m saying is that you both are perfect for each other and the sooner you both realise it, the better off you’ll be,” he calls over his shoulder.

Killian wants to say he’s already realised it, just for the sake of one-upping him. But that’s yet another discussion that he’d rather shelf until hell freezes over.

-/-

Ruby’s end of summer beach party is, in her own words, expected to be everything straight out of a teen musical.

She’d warned him that if he didn’t bring his guitar and give her a rendition of Summer Nights, she would not be held responsible for something terrible happening to the instrument overnight. Killian isn’t scared of many things, but he is, without a doubt, scared of Ruby Lucas.

He rings the bell to Emma’s house at exactly 6pm and rocks back on heels. Her mother answers the door and ushers him inside with a greeting.

David and Mary Margaret Nolan aren’t Emma’s real parents, but they might as well be. Emma had told him once, her shoulder pressed against his while they sat on the floor of her room, a woman downstairs to finalise the adoption, that this was her second home. She hadn’t been with them her whole life, only since she was two years old, after the Swans gave her back to the system. He hadn’t grasped most of it then; as far as he was concerned, this was her home and they were her family.

As far as he is concerned, anyone who lets her go is out of their bloody mind.

His gratitude for her parents only grew when his mother passed and they unofficially adopted the Jones Brothers, too. In fact, some part of him knows he will forever be indebted to this town for how they’d so readily accepted and jumped to care for the suddenly orphaned boys. Small towns have their advantages, he supposes.

He’s sure, though, that the sheriff and the elementary school teacher had initially taken to him because of Emma’s sway over them. Mary Margaret had actually grown fond of him over the years, ensuring that she made extra mashed potatoes for him when he stayed for dinner and calling him up on occasion to ask if he was doing alright. David, well, sometimes he laughs at Killian’s jokes, still surely isn’t over the fact that Killian climbed up the tree to Emma’s window at midnight of her 16th birthday just so he could wish her first.

“Are you the designated jukebox this evening?” Mary Margaret inquires, curling a strand of her short black hair behind her ear in a gesture that Emma so often mirrors. If he didn’t know, he’d be convinced she was her real mother.

Killian pulls at the guitar case strap on his shoulder. “Unfortunately.”

“He’s just doing it because he’s scared of Ruby,” Emma clarifies for her mother, bounding down the stairs and making a beeline for the kitchen. She emerges with an icebox that she refuses to let him carry when he offers.

“But Ruby’s such a nice girl,” Mary Margaret says, “although perhaps a little strong willed.”

“Strong willed would be an understatement, Mrs. Nolan.”

“I’ll be back by midnight, tell dad not to sneak patrol the beach, please.” She kisses her mother’s cheek and shuts the door behind them just as he calls out his goodbye. “You’re such a wimp,” she smirks as they begin walking.

“Swan,” he gasps, mock affronted, “it would not be good form to upset a lady by going back on my word.”

“Decided to be a gentleman tonight, hm?”

“I’m always a gentleman,” he grins, all teeth.

The party is in full swing when they get there, and Ruby envelops them both in welcoming hugs before she rushes off to find Dorothy. It’s loud; the area full of people from their graduating class talking loudly, the music and the crashing of waves fighting to be heard over each other.

By the time someone breaks out the beer, Killian’s soaked from head to toe thanks to a rather unnecessary tackle from Robin that landed him straight in the ocean. He makes his way to the bonfire, which has now been lit with the passing of sunrise, and finds solace in the warmth of the sand under his feet. Until the fire dries him off, every breeze - no matter how humid - is sure to make his skin tingle.

He shakes his hair out to rid himself of most of the water as he walks, and grins when someone makes a noise of annoyance from somewhere to his right. He knows it’s Emma before he even stops and turns to face her. And that only adds to the growing list of things that prove he’s well and truly fucked when it comes to Emma Swan.

(The list in question is more of a length of a short novel. It leaves him toeing the line of something he’s been thinking he could very well identify as love.)

(Bloody insane, that.)

“Do you want to fetch your own flea collar or should I?”

In lieu of a retort, Killian merely scrunches his nose and lets out a growl in her direction. Emma’s eyes widen for a bare second before she rolls them heavenward.

She leans in closer and makes show of sniffing him. “Yep, just what I thought. You smell like wet dog,” she says.

He has droplets catching in his eyelashes, while she stands perfectly dry before him. “Ah, we can’t have that now, can we?”

There must be a hint of mischief in his eyes because she takes half a step back in defense. He’s faster, though, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling his wet hair into her cheek as a dog would. She does her share of laughing and squealing, pushing at his arms and torso to break free. Her hands are warm where they meet his skin and he feels the heat down to the base of his stomach - he tries exceptionally hard not to think about that right then.

He also tries not to think about how when he pulls her close like this, her body fits perfectly against his.

(Obviously, he fails at both.)

Emma pulls back the minute he loosens his grip, the front of her t-shirt decorated with large water stains. She fixes him with a frown that he finds endearing above anything else.

“Now we match,” he chuckles.

“I hate you,” she mumbles, but he sees the uptick of the corner of her mouth. She brushes off the water from her arms and Killian runs a hand through his still damp hair, pushing it out of his eyes. It only takes her another moment to roll her eyes with a barely suppressed smile. “Beer?” she suggests.

“Only a little.”

She mumbles a halfhearted consent and meets him by the others with two cups in her hands.

With a little bit of alcohol in him, he manages to croon out an astoundingly loud duet of Summer Nights with Ruby; Marian, Dorothy and Robin joining in easily. Though he doesn’t think he manages to not serenade Emma while he’s doing it. She takes it as she always does, a scoff and a comment about childish antics that leads into a dimpled grin.

He switches to more upbeat songs, and his heart swells when Marian pulls a reluctant Emma up to twirl her around. The others join soon after, and Killian’s amazed he can remember the lyrics with how distracted he is watching the firelight catch in Emma’s hair, her laugh so incandescently happy.

He ignores the look Ruby shoots him over Dorothy’s shoulder, and shakes his head as Robin attempts to harmonize with him while jumping up and down.

He winks at Emma when she looks at him pleadingly to get her out of Marian’s hold on her hands, and she pulls her lips into her mouth, no doubt attempting to hide her smile. It’s a handful of moments like these that he thinks Emma may feel something (anything), too, and it leaves his skin tingling for reasons that have nothing to do with the wind.

-/-

A week into the start of school, he gets a job at the local library.

Doing inventory and helping people check out books isn’t the most exciting thing he could be doing with his youth, but this way he manages to sneak in a few hours of reading in a week. Emma would call him a nerd if he admitted it. She’d call him a nerd either way, he thinks.

Work at the docks is fine for the summers, but during the school year, this makes more sense. It pays well and isn’t straining on his muscles. Not to mention he’s got course catalogues to tear through and college apps to fill out, and the library gives him an advantage of studying while working.

Plus, he likes the company. He hadn’t known Belle well before this, her being in a year below him. But, small town life has warranted him seeing her around and working together  has proven she is kind and someone he quite likes analyzing books with.

The place itself is run by August. He’s only seen the man a handful of times; Belle claims he’s working on a novel of some sort, the whole thing being done on an actual typewriter.

“Is he alright?” Killian had asked, index finger tapping his temple to indicate his meaning.

“Eccentric is the word I’d use,” she’d replied with a laugh.

The short walk to Granny’s doesn’t cut much into his twenty minute break, and that means he has a little extra time to spend with Emma. How the least personable person he knows got into waitressing, he still can’t quite figure out. He can’t say he doesn’t like watching her attempt not to scowl at the customers, though.

She always has a burger, fries and coffee ready for him when he enters, throwing in a few extra ketchup packets before he asks for them. Some days she joins him, slides into the seat across and steals his fries even though she’d much rather be eating onion rings, asking him about the Algebra homework or detailing her most annoying customers. Some days she doesn’t have time, but manages to smile at him, double dimples and everything, through her usual grimaces.

To him, there’s something special about both of those things.

-/-

“Criminal justice,” Emma muses from the other end of the call and he smiles.

“Fitting.” He distractedly clicks through a few tabs he has open on his laptop. “Following your father’s line of duty, and all.”

“Yeah, he’s so excited. Did you decide yet?”

Killian sighs, the weight of the four years after high school heavy on his shoulders already. “It’s between engineering, creative writing, or sodding college and opening up a bar.”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “The bar, for sure.”

“That’s what I thought. I’ll get Liam to bartend and you can be our top customer.”

“If Leroy doesn’t beat me to it.

Killian chuckles, goes back to his perusal of online prospectuses.

“But really?” Emma asks, her tone telling him she genuinely wants to know.

“But really, creative writing, I believe.” He exhales, resting his face in his palm.

He hears the smile in Emma’s voice when she says, “Fitting.” There’s a beat, and then, “Oh my God, it’ll be like Castle.”

-/-

It’s a bad habit, keeping his bedroom window unlocked. But Storybrooke is relatively safe, the only real threat he has to worry about is the daughter of the sheriff breaking and entering into his home. He’s pretty sure she won’t get charged for it, anyway, so he leaves the latch open and the curtain drawn back only enough to let her know he’s still awake.

He’s re-reading his battered copy of Peter Pan when he hears the telltale signs of her too loud footsteps on the fire escape. The smile creeps unbidden on to his face and he barely even registers that it’s there as he continues reading. When he was younger, he’d had the odd dream every now and then about Peter Pan whisking him away to Neverland on adventures he could only imagine. Some nights he’d press his hands against the glass and watch the stars, trying to pick out the brightest one. He grew out of it eventually, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe in fairytales.  

Emma grunts loudly as she pushes up his window, her hair a mess of curls that manages to hide just about half of her face when she’s done fitting herself through the half open glass.

Fairytales like the ones where the Girl Who Would Grow Up climbs into his room, doesn’t necessarily tug him to another land, but sure as hell gets his heart beating hard enough to think he’s flying.

She blows at it in an attempt to gain some control, but when it doesn’t work she shoves her hands through it and pushes it back. He watches her the whole while, and can’t help but adore the way she gets frustrated.

In two long strides, she flops herself face first down on his bed and groans.

“Landing could have been more graceful, I’d give it an 8 for effort,” he muses, trying and failing to hide the amusement in his voice.

She makes a noise in response and he only grins harder.

He pokes her head and she makes a feeble attempt to swat his hand away even though her face is still firmly glued to his bed sheets.

“I suppose we don’t possess the ability to converse today,” he muses and goes back to his book.

After a few seconds she lifts her head up to regard him, and he can make out her scowl from the corner of his eyes. “I’m tired.”

“Well, if you spent your time resting instead of walking all the way here that would be less of a problem.”

Emma only groans louder and fists her hands in his sheets before smothering herself once more. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll go,” comes her muffled reply, one that completely goes against her unmoving form.

He doesn’t even give a second thought to her statement, knowing full well that there would be no world in which he wouldn’t want her next to him.

Killian shakes his head with a soft smile and leans over to pull at the hood of her jacket (which, incidentally, is his jacket) to get her attention. When she looks at him again, he opens his arms in invitation and she takes a second to slip off her boots before she comes willingly, wrapping her arms around his torso and resting her head on his shoulder. Once she’s settled, he picks his book back up, fidgeting with the ends of her hair with his other hand.

His eyes drift over the familiar words on the page before drifting down to her. The fact of the matter is that they’ve always been this close, holding on to each other without thinking about it too much. Killian, well, he thinks about it too much, sometimes. Which is also a bad habit, come to think of it.

“You know,” he says in an attempt to save himself from his thoughts spiraling down a rabbit hole, “this building does have an elevator and a front door. That might save some of your strength, too.” Teasing her is safe, easy. Knowing full well when she’s going to roll her eyes or tilt her head as she thinks of a witty retort.

She lifts herself up slightly to look at him, balancing her weight on her elbows. “But if I do that, who’s going to indulge you in your Peter Pan fantasies?”

He opens his mouth and then immediately closes it, eyes going anywhere but to her as he’s sure his cheeks turn red. Emma snickers above him and he fumbles for some kind of explanation. She laughs harder the longer he stays silent, and it would piss him off if it were coming from anyone but Emma.

Most days, being around her reverts him back to the fumbling pre-teen he was, instead of the pre-adult he is now that’s learnt a thing or two about being smooth and speaking to girls.

When he finally meets her expression, it’s full of mirth. Peter Pan wore all green in the Disney movie, but he thinks Emma doesn’t need to do that, the emerald of her eyes is more than enough compensation. His gaze slides down her nose and settles on her lips. She’s stopped laughing but they’re still curved upwards, her dimples flashing at him. He averts his eyes back up to her own as quickly and as nonchalantly as he can, to where she’s watching him with an expression he can’t quite read.

There’s something in the stillness right then, and he knows that this is a moment. One of those damned moments that he keeps missing. The one where he tells her that she’s all he thinks about, all he’ll ever need, all the stupid sappy things that she will utterly hate and yet -

Yet, she turns him into a bumbling fool and he’s willing to let her.

He thinks maybe if he opens his mouth and stops being a coward for a millisecond that he’ll finally be able to get all his words out.

Just as he opens his mouth, though, his bedroom door opens with a loud creak and Liam’s voice and form follow. “Killian, lunch is here- oh, hi Emma.”

“Hi, Liam.” She lifts herself off him completely and sits down beside him instead.

And there goes another moment, slipping through his fingers like pixie dust.

(He has faith, and he has trust, it’s just the third one he keeps missing time and time again.)

He doesn’t miss the way Liam’s eyes dart to him and the way his eyebrows raise a fraction of an inch in silent teasing. “I apologise, Emma, I didn’t order enough pizza for three, but I’m sure Killian won’t mind if you eat half his share.” And then, not so silent teasing. His brother truly is a gift.

“Your brother is a hog, I’m going to have to steal his food if I want any of it.”

“Oi!” Killian interjects to no avail, as Liam leaves chuckling down the hallway. He turns to Emma then, who’s climbing off his bed. “Perhaps you’re more of a pirate, fancy the moniker of Captain Hook?”

She’s next to him in a few seconds, tugging at his arm to drag him on to the floor need be. “Jones, you do know fairytales aren’t real, right? I’m not gonna have to throw you in an asylum or something?” There’s skepticism drooping from each syllable, and he wonders if one day she’ll change her mind about seeing magic in this world.

“Is that concern I hear, love?”

Emma scoffs. “Just don’t want to have to explain that situation to your brother.”

Killian hums and boops her nose with his index finger. “One day, Swan, you’ll believe.”

She glares at him for a breath before catching his wrist in her hand and leading him to the living room.

-/-

In the end, he gives her more than half his share, thinks it has something to do with the way she smiles when he does.

(It’s magic, he’s convinced.)

-/-

He owes many things to Emma, including but not limited to half his bookshelf, his interest in Star Wars, and his obsession with social media.

It isn’t so much that he can’t put his phone down, just that Instagram has more or less taken over his life in the last six months since he’s had it.

The whole thing is only a glaringly obvious reminder of how apparent Emma Swan is in his life considering she’s in (far) more than half of the pictures on his feed. He doesn’t realise it until Robin points it out, teasing him with a whine about he is only present in one group photo.

Killian scoffs, but when he pulls his phone out to check, he’s the one that’s proved wrong.

“If you squint, all you’ll see is the shade of her hair,” Robin says over his shoulder.

Killian uses his place to elbow him in the ribs, but squints against his better judgement, anyway.

Robin snatches his phone and studies the page for a few minutes. “82 posts and 70 of them are photos with or of Emma,” he finally says.

“You sod, did you actually count?”

“True research requires meticulous study, Jones.”

“I’ll show you meticulous study,” Killian grumbles, reaching for his phone. He doesn’t manage to get it; it ends up in Will’s hands instead. He’d been happy when he’d befriended the both of them, since they were from across the pond like him - but now he’s reconsidering it.

“Are we ribbing Jones of his obsession with Emma again?” Will chuckles. “You know, having this many photos of her could be considered stalking.”

“I’m not stalking her. We’re friends, you gits.”

Robin looks at Will. “You can stalk your friends, right?”

“Right,” Will confirms, an expression of thoughtfulness on his face.

By the time he manages to get his phone back, the both of them are roaring with laughter in the middle of the locker room. He vows to get new friends, and pretends not to hear Robin when he says to Will, “It’s ridiculous how clueless the both of them are.”

-/-

Some days are harder than others.

In between studying and his job, the anniversary of his mother’s death creeps up on him and leaves him a little blindsided.

He visits her grave with Liam just as the sun rises, and stays for an hour longer after Liam has left for work. He makes a habit of coming here every week, but this day is something else, keeping him rooted to the ground by her gravestone as he talks to her about his life, about how much things have changed and how they are still exactly the same. He tells her about school, and about his college options, and about his friends. But eventually he forces himself to get up, and with a tentative brush of his palm against the stone and a glance at the orchids on the ground, he makes his way back home.

Much like any other day, their apartment doesn’t boom with any kind of activity, and yet the whole place seems almost too quiet. And he makes a conscious decision to not speak too loudly lest it remind him of how much he’s lost.

Liam takes a half day and comes home early with takeout from Granny’s, managing a smile for him when he pulls out the photo albums from their place in the top shelf of the hall closet. It’s a tradition of sorts, one that started without any spoken agreement, and went on just the same.

And though while sitting with Liam, they recall all the times that Rosaline Jones made them happy, he can’t help but also remember her illness and her death. They’d held the wake here, after the service, the small apartment filling up easily with the amount of people who knew and loved his mother. He’d stayed numb through most of it with Emma by his side, her parents handling a lot of the crowd with Liam. He’d been so young then, confused about it all.

It was only when he hit fourteen that he lashed out. The fourth anniversary brought about two broken lamps and a half broken leg of an end table.

Liam had managed to calm him down enough to call Emma and ask her to get there. She’d wasted no time in wrapping her arms around him, and that’s when he’d finally cried, pressing his nose into the column of her neck and letting his body be taken over by the wracking sobs.

He sighs as he closes the album and shuffles to the kitchen to get rid of the styrofoam containers. His brother follows him quietly, and Killian feels as though their home is mourning with them, the somber shift in the atmosphere far too apparent. It gets easier with each year, but the ache in his chest that often makes it difficult for him to breathe, he surmises, isn’t really something that will ever go away.

“Emma coming by?” Liam asks once they’ve cleared up and don’t have much else to keep themselves occupied.

“Yeah.”

Liam nods. “Don’t stay out too late.” He’d hated it the first few months, having to shift from having Liam as a brother to him as a parental figure; after a fight or two, though, he’d settled into it, just been glad to have him there at all.

He manages a weak smile along with his nod. Liam mirrors the action, and it’s just as he’s turned to leave that Killian stops him.

“I know I don’t say it enough, brother, but thank you.”

Liam’s arms come around him, and when he pulls back, his smile is a little watery. “She’d be proud of you, little brother.”

“Young brother,” he corrects automatically, “and she’d be proud of the both of us.”

Sure it gets easier with each year, but it’s some different kind of relief altogether when he walks up to Emma waiting under the building for him, a scarf wrapped up to her chin to keep her from the cold. She presses a cup of hot chocolate into his hand wordlessly and starts walking towards the beach.

This was another unspoken tradition, a mix of two of their favourite comforts; her drink and his place. It started on The Year of the Broken Furniture and it went on without any further prompting.

They sit on the bench at the docks for a long while, watching the sun dip behind the horizon, letting the crashing of waves be the only sound to fill the silence. The quiet seems to follow him on this day every year; the world paying its respects.

The more he thinks about it, the more his eyes sting so instead he nudges Emma to move up a little. Even with her side pressed to the handle of the bench, Killian still has to bend his knees to get his body to fit on the seat when he lies down, his head in her lap.

He takes in the sky from there, the few strands of hair that have escaped her braid and move gently alongside the breeze. Emma’s fingers card through his hair and he notices the small smile before she speaks.

“Do you remember the flower crowns? The ones your mom used to make for us?”

“One crown each, every Monday after school.” He smiles.

His mother loved Emma, used to choose the prettiest flowers from their garden for her crown; he remembers pouting and getting upset at that the first few times she’d done it, but he thinks he must have resigned himself to his fate. She used to make one for Liam, too. He has a photo of the three of them standing in Emma’s front yard wearing flowers in their hair, carefully kept in between the pages of an old leather journal of his.

“The daisies suited you. Really brought out these,” she hums, fingers going to tug at the end of his left ear. She’s always been one to mercilessly taunt him for his pointed ears - attempts to get him to dress as an elf for every Halloween since they were seven.

He doesn’t have the energy to come up with any substantial reply, so he simply grunts in annoyance and then closes his eyes. She plays with the hair curling around the back of his ear.

The white roses, he thinks, those looked the loveliest on her.

“How are you doing?” she asks, her tone equal parts curiosity and concern. Honestly, he’d be a mess without her.

His mother was his hero - still is, in a lot of ways. She took herself out of a difficult situation and gave them a new life in a place that she’d never been to. She was fierce in the softest way imaginable, and Killian knows that his anger must have been inherited from his father.

Emma tugs at his ear to get his attention and he exhales heavily, a weight sliding off his chest as he speaks. “I miss her.”

He feels her fingers move to his temple which she taps once and says softly, “Well, you have her intelligence.” She doesn’t give him the time to scoff before she’s pinching his cheeks, “And her cheeks.” He looks up at her then, and her thumb goes to trace along his eyebrow before her palm frames his face, the beginnings of the stubble he’s growing out most likely scratching her skin. “And her eyes.”

The wind bites at his nose as Killian leans into her touch, his heart close to bursting. This day always leaves him in a state of emotional imbalance. But he knows his rapid heartbeat isn’t just based on that.

She opens her mouth as if to say something more but promptly shuts it. And then, “We should get going, it’s getting late.”

Killian blinks, and by the time he gets himself up, she’s back to looking at him with a less meaningful expression. On the walk back home, he convinces himself that he imagined it.

-/-

When he gets back to his room, he swings his legs out the window and sits on the sill for a long while gazing at the sky. Liam had told him, when he was little, that whenever someone passed, they ended up among the stars so that they could always watch over you.

He talks to his mother for a long stretch of time; telling her how it’s her fault that he’s such a sentimental fool, but how it’s entirely his fault that he fell in love with his best friend.

-/-

“Ugh.” Emma buries her face in her hands, pushing her glasses up onto her head in the process.

He wordlessly slides the half empty plate of onion rings closer to her. Midterms have this effect on her; they change her lifestyle so she’s consuming more coffee than hot chocolate, and sleeping barely a few hours every night. With their History midterm a day away, Ruby convinced her grandmother to graciously let them finish up their studying at the diner where the very much needed supply of greasy food is endless.

Ruby hadn’t lasted, falling asleep in the booth closest to the door an hour ago.

“Come on, love, we’re almost done.”

“How are you so calm about this?” She looks up at him, her glasses falling right back onto her nose without the support of her fingers holding them up. He bites his lip to prevent an endearing smile. “You hate exams.”

“Yes, but they are inevitable and one of us has to be the sane one.” He pushes the plate closer to her until she picks one up and munches on it. “Besides, I have you to help me out. Heaven knows I wouldn’t get through all this on my own,” he gestures to the papers sprawled across the table with a slight frown.

“Who the hell thought this was a good idea, anyway?” she mumbles, glaring at her notes.

“Hey,” he says, reaching for her hand to lightly tug at her index finger to get her attention. “You’re the smartest person I know, Emma, if anyone can do this, it’s you.”

She doesn’t meet his eyes, but he does see the way her cheeks tinge pink at the compliment, even if she might not believe in it wholly. She never does take all his compliments wholeheartedly, which is probably why he strays away from words he would like to use to describe her, in case she just outright scoffs at his honesty. (Radiant, enchanting, bloody marvelous - to name a simple few.)

“Think of it this way, when this is over, we have winter break to ease our sorrows,” he adds.

“Winter break is, like, college apps season,” she sighs.

He uses the back of his pen to push up the thick frames sliding down her nose. He can see the sleep lining the edges of her eyes, and he knows it’s only a matter of time before she passes out. “Yes, but it is also Christmas season.”

Emma hums, and he knows she’s thinking about the gingerbread cookies that her mother is so skilled at making. “Did you buy my gift, yet?” she asks after a moment, poking at his palm where their fingers are still pressing into each other.

“Mhm,” he replies, thinking of the bracelet he got her, silver with carved roses. It made him think of the crowns his mother made, the way Emma would always smell of fresh Spring for the rest of the day.

“I did, too.”

“You got yourself a gift? I know they say it’s the season of giving, Swan, but-”

She kicks him, and he laughs.

“What did you get me?”

“It’s a surprise,” she hums, pulling her hand away from his to grab another onion ring. When she picks up her pen, he takes it as a cue to go back to his own studying, letting Ruby’s soft snores drift be the only sound to fill the silence.

“Killian?” she quietly calls.

He hums in acknowledgement and looks up to see her watching him.

It’s a true testament to her sleep deprived brain that she stops what she’s doing and asks, albeit with a small voice, “You’re not really going to sail around the world without me, right?”

The conversation was months ago, but he remembers it all too well. Killian smiles. “Not on my life, Swan.” For good measure, he crosses an x over his heart, like she used to ask him to do when they were kids.

She nods and goes back to her work, only lasting twenty more minutes before she calls quits. The smile stays on Killian’s face well into the rest of the next day.

-/-

It’s well after 1 in the morning when he’s drowning in textbooks and notes he doesn’t quite remember taking, his last midterm paper due in a few hours, that he calls in for reinforcements.

I need help with my work argh. He texts her, his lips quirking up when he immediately sees the three gray dots show up at the bottom of the screen.

I’ve known you for 14 years now and you still can’t do your own work.

Killian chuckles, rolls his eyes in what he’s sure is a perfect imitation of her. Some days it’s a realization that hits him that they’ve been in each other’s lives for so long, that it would almost be unnatural to be without her at this point. The thought possesses him for the few seconds it takes him to type out his message.

You’ve known me for 14 years now and you still can’t tell I’m in love with you.

He backspaces the whole thing before he can do something stupid like hit send. He sends her a sad face emoji instead, and tries not to wonder if the two mean the same thing.

-/-

For Christmas, she gets him a black leather jacket.

“One jacket to go with your one pair of boots,” she says. “Pretty punk rock, huh?” And he’s overcome with desire to kiss her right there in the middle of her living room.

He doesn’t, of course, the coward he is. But he does post the selfie she takes of the both of them with the Christmas tree he helped her decorate in the back.

(83 posts, and 71 are with or of Emma. Not that he’s counting.)

(No, apparently that’s Robin’s job.)

-/-

On the third Friday of the New Year, August decides to close up early because he has to go out of town and it leaves Killian and Belle on the sidewalk outside.

“Granny’s?” he suggests, his usual lunch break only a few ten minutes away. In all the while he’s worked with Belle, he’s never hung out with her outside of the library, no matter how much Will Scarlet has gotten it into his head that Killian should be wingmanning him to her. Will and Belle, now that’s two people he’d never think would end up together.

“That sounds nice,” she agrees. “Your girlfriend works there, right?”

He nearly trips. “Come again?”

“The sheriff’s daughter? Emma?” she says incredulously like he’s going through a bout of amnesia.

“Ah,” he says, a little loss for words, “we aren’t- uh- that is to say, we’re not…together.” He winces as it comes out of his mouth. He’s never actually had to say it to anyone, everyone in his close vicinity never really assuming they were dating.

“Oh, sorry, you guys are together most of the time and I shouldn’t have just assumed,” Belle says sheepishly, a bit of embarrassment colouring her tone.

Killian clears his throat, “That’s- it’s fine, love. No harm.” Maybe a little bit, to his feelings. But, details.

“Still, sorry.”

He shakes his head once again to let her know that it’s alright, pulling the scarf a bit tighter around his neck in self-preservation perhaps. He spots Emma from behind the glass, the pristinely ironed red of Granny’s apron tied around her waist a clash against her torn jeans and slightly wrinkled shirt.

Emma Swan, his girlfriend. Maybe one day, when he stops being such a bloody coward.

When the bell jingles with his entrance, she looks up with a surprised lift of her brows which quickly turns into a smile. Some part of him melts right there. When he sits down at a table, Belle taking the chair beside him, he notices the way her mouth dips with a frown before she turns away to the lady in the booth whose order she’s taking.

By the time she makes her way to him, she isn’t smiling at all. “You’re early.”

“August closed up, he had a travel venture to see to,” he says, darting his eyes across her face in an attempt to get a read on her.

“Right,” she says, and he mirrors her frown.

“You must be Emma,” Belle cuts in, “Killian’s told me a lot about you. I’m Belle, I work with him.”

Emma’s nod is jerky at best and she mumbles a, “Nice to meet you,” before asking for her order.

The sky opens up somewhere halfway through his burger, and Emma still refuses to meet his gaze. Despite Killian’s insistence that she wait out the rain, Belle makes for home anyway, thanking him for his company and telling him she’ll see him next week.

Killian gets up and makes his way to Emma then, stepping into the back room with a rap of his knuckles against the doorway. When she first started working here, the both of them would camp out in the back room during her break, her feet propped up on his lap while he sat on the desk and she on the chair. They’d split a piece of blueberry pie between them, alternating who’d pay for it even though he would rather she didn’t at all.

“Swan, are you alright?”

She’s sorting receipts, and he wonders if maybe she didn’t hear him over the sudden downpour rapping against the window.

“Swan?” he walks closer and touches her elbow.

“I’m working, Jones. You shouldn’t be back here, you know.”

He furrows his brows at her clipped tone but doesn’t move. Neither does she, but her hands slow down the longer he stays.

“Emma?” he asks again, and watches as her armour shifts into place around her. She isn’t one to shut him out - other people, sure, and maybe he’s seen a handful of this in the long years they’ve known each other, but-

She just doesn’t do this to him. And it hurts, he’ll admit.

“Talk to me,” he coaxes again.

“It’s nothing, I’m just stressed about college and school and all these things- God, what idiot thought that our whole lives should depend on the choices we make when we’re teenagers?” She’s rambling, and he’d find it endearing if he wasn’t so worried.

Gently, he rests his hands on her upper arms and she ceases her tirade. He keeps eye contact until she sighs and deflates in his hold.

“Seriously, it’s just waiting to hear back from these places. It’s stressful.”

There’s something more to it, he knows. But she doesn’t seem very forth giving with her information so he nods and lets her have this.

“I have faith in you,” he tugs his mouth up in a smile.

She nods, “I should get back to work.” When he doesn’t pull back his hands, she groans. “I’m fine, Jones.” She pushes at his chest to get him out of the room, and though the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, it’s still there, and he counts it as a victory.

-/-

“Movie night at mine this Saturday, your arses better be there,” Tina says by way of greeting, practically ambushing him and Robin by his locker. “Oh, and Jones, call the library girl, Scarlet is driving me insane and I’d much rather have him sitting in a corner making eyes at a girl than breaking my mum’s keepsakes and eating all the food.”

“Wonderful, now we have to endure you, Emma and Will making doe eyes,” Robin chuckles good naturedly when she leaves.

“You make it sound like the three of us have it in for each other.” He shudders, just at the thought. And then again at the thought of Emma and Will. The latter is more selfish than anything else.

“You and Will would make a handsome couple.”

Killian very nearly shoves him into the supply closet.

-/-

She’s avoiding him - that’s the only way he can explain the stunted replies that are a poor attempt at conversation that has lasted over a week. He’s gotten her voicemail twice in the last hour, and if he weren’t seeing her at Tina’s tonight, he’d be knocking at her window by now.

He’s torn between worrying and giving her space to deal with whatever it is she thinks she can’t let him in on. (Did he mention how much that hurts?) So, he slips his jacket on and makes his way to Tina’s house, finding the absence of Emma’s company far more distracting than he would have thought.

The fact that Tina opens her door with a, “Hey, Killian, where’s Emma?” isn’t much help at all.

He grabs a soda from the table and flops down on the side of the couch he always sits on, greeting Ruby and Will, who are debating on which movie to choose from the Netflix selection.

Ruby looks up at him after mumbling a distracted response. She narrows her eyes at him, and he feels uncomfortable down to his toes, takes a gulp of his drink to create some kind of barrier. “Where’s Emma?” she asks. He doesn’t exactly need anyone reminding him that the person he’s always around doesn’t particularly wish to be around him right now. He’s not annoyed at her for doing it, only at her for not telling him why. She’s never gone this long without divulging her problems to him. If he knew, maybe he could help; the last thing he wants is Emma’s unhappiness.

“Did you two have a fight?” Will follows.

“No, we did not.”

“Then, where is she?” Ruby raises an eyebrow, as though calling his bullshit. They didn’t have a fight, because a fight would at least make more sense to him.

“On her way.” He can’t bother filtering his clipped tone. “I’m going to go help Tina,” he mutters, making his way to the kitchen before either of them prolongs the conversation further. Maybe if he keeps his hands busy, he won’t think of how if Emma were here, she’d be daring him that he wouldn’t be able to sit through the whole movie without insulting Will once.

He picks up a nacho off the plate Tina’s making and she slaps his hand, but lets him eat it anyway.

“Where’s your mum?” he asks, leaning against the counter. Light conversation will clear his mind. Probably. Hopefully.

“She’s out of town for some conference, apparently florists have those, too,” she replies. “Now, are you going to cut the crap or what?”

He’s momentarily taken aback, hand frozen halfway towards the plate for another nacho. He drops it to his side. “I don’t-”

“Killian Jones,” she warns, and he can do nothing but sigh. “Did you have a fight with Emma?”

“Bloody hell, no, I didn’t.”

“Then why are you brooding?”

“I am not,” he crosses his arms over his chest. His relationship with Tina has always been very familial; she’s a year older than him and it’s automatically made her like an elder sister to him. No matter how infuriating it can be at times with the amount she loves to bicker.

“You know, if you told her you liked her, maybe-”

“I don’t,” comes his automatic response. “I don’t like her.”

“Yeah,” she scoffs, “that’s convincing.”

And maybe it’s the way she’s staring him down, or the fact that he spent last night decidedly torturing himself by scrolling through all the photos of them in his camera roll, recalling the way she’d shut him out at the diner. Maybe it’s all of that and his frustration at his feelings that makes him admit it out loud for the first time.

“I love her.” His voice is so quiet and yet, the words sound too loud in the space. His heart picks up as he says it. Ruby’s laughter filters from living room and he thinks he hears Belle’s voice, too.

“Shit,” Tina releases on a breath.

“Tell me about it.”

She considers him for a bit. She shakes her head and pats his forearm. “Tell her about it.” And then she leaves him standing there, only turning around at the door to say, “And stop brooding, you’re killing the night.”

-/-

She’s sitting pressed into the other side of the sofa, leaving a large space between them. He feels that space somewhere in his chest, too, like it could open up swallow him whole from the inside out. She’d said hello to him and nothing else, while she spoke to the rest of the group normally, and Tina had looked at him with so much pity.

He leans over to make a few choice comments about the movie but she only hums in her responses. Everyone notices. By now he’s sure everyone knows he loves her, too. Probably just from the sodding eyes he makes, if Robin’s words hold any truth.

At least Will’s attempts at making Belle laugh are succeeding, the both of them sitting cross legged at the foot of the sofa. He only knows Emma’s looking at them because he’s watching her more than he’s watching the movie. The fact that he can miss her when she’s right there is ridiculous.

His eyes follow her when she gets up, and makes her way upstairs. There’s something lodged in his throat, the distance between them increasing. He’s so busy watching (pining) that he doesn’t realise Tina’s paused the movie and they’re all staring at him. Seven pairs of eyes locked on to him. It’s disconcerting to say the least.

“What?” he all but barks at them.

He sees Tina roll her eyes. “Go after her, you idiot.”

“Fix it,” Lance chimes in, “whatever is going on.”

“I swear, Killian, if you don’t go up there-” Ruby starts, but Killian cuts her off with a hurried affirmation and a huff, getting out of his seat. He’s glad Dorothy couldn’t make it, he doesn’t think he would be able to handle a tag team of Ruby and her girlfriend.

He ambles up the staircase, knowing full well the lot of them are going to be straining their ears to listen in.

She’s walking out of the bathroom when he reaches the top of the stairs. She falters in her steps when she sees him and that space inside him only grows larger.

“Oh, I was-”

“Are you avoiding me, Swan?” he asks, even though he knows the answer.

She presses herself closer to the wall and looks anywhere but directly at him. Right, of course. He shouldn’t be doing this, he knows forcing her to face situations she doesn’t want to makes her skittish. Bloody hell.

He recoils, runs a hand through his hair. Tries to go for a gentler tone this time. “Look, Swan, if I did something to upset you, I’d like it if you told me.”

“You didn’t,” she huffs and shuts her eyes for a moment. “You didn’t upset me.”

“Right, yes, you’re just mad at me for fun, then.” He smiles but it holds no happiness.

“I’m not mad at you, I’m just-” She stops herself and lets out a frustrated groan, hands fisting at her sides. He stays where he is even though he’d much rather be looping his arms around her, drawing slow circles on her back to ease her like he’s done for years now.

“Emma.”

“I’m mad at myself, alright?” She exhales heavily. “It’s stupid, it’s fine, I’m sorry. Can we go finish the movie now?”

He takes a careful step closer and when she doesn’t move away, another and another until he’s right in front of her. Elimination of physical space is one thing, but the way she doesn’t look at him tells him it’s far from fine.

“Not until you tell me what this is about.”

“It’s stupid,” she mumbles.

“Hey, tell me.”

Emma sighs, her eyes flitting across the planes of his face. He can see the exact moment she relents. “When I came here, I wasn’t sure of anything. It was all temporary, and some days I think it still is. But the more I look back, the more I know you’ve been there, like this constant thing that never lets me get too in over my head, you know?” He nods. “You came into the diner that day, and you were with Belle and it’s fucking stupid but I was jealous and I felt like I was losing you.”

Her gaze is fixed to a point over his ear. He tries to grasp at her meaning, and then, disbelievingly, “You were jealous?”

“I don’t know, maybe, God, you’re my best friend and here I am not letting you be potentially interested in someone else because I like you-” She stops, widening her eyes as if that’s something she shouldn’t have said.

And Killian, well, he’s really glad he isn’t strapped to one of those hospital monitors, because the whole neighborhood would be able to hear the too loud, too quick beeps. “You…” He shakes his head, not even being able to let himself hope for too long.

“I…yeah. I think I might have for a while now, and great, now I’ve ruined-”

He doesn’t let her finish, instead lunging forward and crashing his lips onto hers. It only takes her a second before she’s kissing him back with the same kind of enthusiasm, his hands finding her waist. Kissing her, Killian thinks, feels like someone’s breathing life into him; his heart slowing to a grinding pace before picking up with a fierce kind of intensity. Her fingers card through his hair, pull at his shirt collar, wander until they rest at his neck and on his cheek.

Before he knows it, he’s stepping forward, pressing her back against the wall. At the same time, he pulls her closer and his breath starts to run short. Simply because he doesn’t know what to do with himself when his senses are on such high alert, reacting to the fact that she’s gasping into his mouth by short circuiting every inch of him.

She exhales shakily when she pulls back and licks her lips. Killian sways into her, convinced that he’s dreaming.

“You like me,” he whispers.

“And apparently you like me.”

“Swan, I’ve liked you for a long time now.” It’s too early for declarations of love, he thinks.

“Really?”

“How can I not? You’re bloody brilliant, amazing.” He punctuates it with a short peck to her lips. Cheesy, cheesy, cheesy. Sue him, he’s too fucking happy to care.

She shakes her head. “We should go downstairs.”

“Do we really have to?”

“Yes,” she pokes him in his ribs. “And is it okay we don’t tell them about, you know, this, just yet? Keep things simple?”

“Figure it out first,” he nods, agreeing, and is rewarded with a slide of her thumb against his cheekbone and a shy smile.

-/-

“It’ll ruin it,” she says abruptly, feeling like he’s missed out on a conversation, like they haven’t been walking in silence on the way to her house from Tina’s.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be a bit more specific, love.” He isn’t sure what they are right now, so he refrains from reaching his hand forward and holding hers. Keep things simple, she’d said.

I like you, she’d said.

(Killian thinks he maybe needs to get that tattooed on his arm, just so he’ll know it’s real.)

(He thinks he might just internally combust if she ever tells him she loves him.)

“Our friendship. What if this fucks up our friendship,” she gestures between them.

In all the time he’s known of his feelings for her, he’s never thought of it as an object of destruction. He’d always thought that it was an amplification of their friendship, but perhaps Emma isn’t on the same page as him. He’s always been far more optimistic than her.

“It won’t.”

She stops walking and he follows suit. The whole small-towns-early-nights thing makes this conversation feel that much more weighted with the quiet of the street.

“And you can see the future?” she teases, before her mouth falls into a frown.

He does grab her hand then, uses the other one to cup her cheek. “I don’t intend to let you down.”

“I know.”

“Do you want to do this?” He’s scared of asking, not knowing if he can go back to the casual intimacy without it meaning something. Without the thumbs sliding against jaws and lips meeting in the middle. He knows he can’t lose her, though, despite whatever he may feel. That was what he told himself before, right?

Ultimately, it’s her choice. And he will take whatever she gives him.

She nods, a bit hesitant. Then squeezes his hand. “Yes,” she says confidently.

He slides his hand into her hair and leans in for a lingering kiss, one that she chases when he pulls back. It’s as though they’ve been doing this forever, the way they move in perfect tandem. Killian chuckles softly.

“What?” she asks, thumbing at the zipper of his jacket.

“I just never thought this would happen.”

“Were you planning on spending your whole life just hoping I’d wake up one day and it would hit me?” He shrugs, and she smirks. “You read too many romance novels.”

“Perhaps.” He curls his fingers in the back belt loops of her jeans, keeping her close to him.

“You’re an idiot.” Her laughter echoes through the air and curls his toes. “But, like, my favourite idiot.”

“You’re my favourite everything.” He places a kiss on her cheek as it tints red. Magic, that’s what she is.

“Hey, Jones,” she says, and he hums, unconsciously licking his lips. “Do you want to go out with me?”

“I don’t know,” he feigns disinterest, “I’ll have to check my calendar.”

She uses the palms at his chest to shove him backward, but he doesn’t get too far with his hands still anchored around her. “Next Friday, pick me up at 8.”

The force of his grin threatens to split his face in two. “As you wish.”

-/-

When did you know? He texts her a few nights later.

I think it was when you climbed through my window. Very Tangled of you. You?

When you asked me to hold your hand down the slide.

We were 5.

I know.

Idiot. He can practically hear her smile in the words.

Ah, but I’m your idiot.

And don’t you forget it.

-/-

“No tree climbing today?” David crosses his arms over his chest and raises an intimidating eyebrow as Killian steps into the house, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have shut the door behind him.

He channels all the confidence he has in him. “Although I do admire ostentatious methods when getting a lady’s attention, Mr. Nolan, I prefer traditional methods when courting her.” He keeps his face leveled despite his urge to break out into a full blown grin at the thought of courting Emma. (“Dating,” she’d corrected him, “people in this century date.” “Well, I apologize for having class.”)

David’s face goes through a strange set of emotions (confusion, the most prominent) until his arms loosen and he just stares at Killian. He isn’t afraid of Emma’s father, despite his position of authority, but he does respect him. So it’s an odd mixture of smugness and shame that he feels when David doesn’t particularly know what to say.

Killian clears his throat. “I assumed Emma had spoken to you about- uh- this…us.”

“No, she hadn’t. But those are things she’d rather talk to her mom about, I guess.”

As though summoned, Mary Margaret makes her way down the stairs, taking in the scene before her. She sighs when she reaches them. “David, I told you to be nice.”

“I am!” He throws his hands out in Killian’s direction as though it’s proof enough. Mary Margaret only shakes her head, a smile on her lips. Then, “You didn’t tell me they were going on a date.”

“Why else would I ask you to be nice?”

“Because you enjoy spreading kindness wherever you go?”

“Are you trying to win me over with compliments right now, David, because-”

He’s so wrapped up in their affectionate exchange that he misses Emma’s descent from her room upstairs until she’s standing next to him, her hand squeezing his elbow. He whips his head to take her in, a vision in a light pink dress and her hair in a ponytail.

“They could go on for hours, we should duck out while we have the chance,” she whispers, a fond smile on her face.

Killian smirks. He loves her more with each day.

“After you, my love.”

Her parents only notice once she’s pulled the door open, Mary Margaret insisting Emma let her take one photo of them before they go.

“We’re already late, take one at prom!” she says, already out the door.

Killian swears he hears David mumble, “It’s about time they did this,” before he closes the door shut behind him. It leaves an incredulous smile on his lips.

Emma waits for him halfway down the walkway of her yard, her skirt blowing with the timid breeze of the cool night. She lets her hands travel up his chest to absentmindedly play with the collar of his jacket once he’s in front of her; he, in turn, leisurely wraps his arms around her waist.

“Hi,” she says softly.

If their first kiss counts as their starting point, they’ve been dating for six days, and he can attest that it’s the same (their banter, their friendship, the way she doesn’t think twice before punching him in the arm) but different in so many ways. Like, well, this.

They’ve been in this position hundreds of times, but never like this - never when Emma’s giving him shy smiles, never when he isn’t conscious about his rapid heartbeat lest she hear it, never when he doesn’t have to physically restrain himself from bending his head and kissing her.

And kiss her he does. It’s a gentle brush of his lips on hers, but it leaves his mind buzzing.

“Hi,” he replies, nudging his nose against hers.

She leans back with an exhale, and intertwines their fingers, pulling him to walk forward.

“Wait,” he furrows his brows, tugging at their joined hands so she stops and looks at him. “Did you just ask me to prom?”

Emma only laughs, and kisses him again.

anonymous asked:

If you are still taking prompts ;) a Season 3 AU where the TLK works in NYC and sexy times happen, with Walsh walking in but Killian and Emma don't stop even if when he notices , because they could care less and he just walks out like wtf. I love all your work btw, talented is you. :)

Dedicated to @thesschesthair & @fergus80 <3

I Can Make You 

The dreams always came. 

The same man with the dark hair and the gorgeous accent appeared ever night since she could remember. It started out with with Emma and this man climbing a beanstalk together; it was straight out of a fairy tale. As the months went by, the imagine of her pulling him towards her, her lips crashing against his own in a jungle stayed with her. She would wake up every morning aching with need, but not for her boyfriend, Walsh. She needed the man in her dreams, which was silly. 

One morning, she woke up horny and guilty. The night before, Walsh took her to their favorite restaurant and asked her to marry him. She couldn’t think of any logical reason to deny his proposal, so she only told him that she wasn’t ready. But in truth, she wasn’t in love with him; she was in love with the man in her dream. 

Emma crawled out of bed, needing her morning coffee. Henry was spending the night at Avery’s, so she had the apartment all to herself. As soon the coffee started dripping into the pot, there was a hard knock at the door. Clad only in her plaid pajamas, Emma walked to the door and grabbed the handle, angry that she hadn’t had any of her coffee yet. But when she opened the door, she was stunned. 

The man who had been haunting her dreams stood right in front of her, dressed like…a pirate? 

His face broke out into a smile. “Swan…at last?” He knew her name? He lunged for her, but she stopped him. 

“Do I know you?” she asked. 

“I need your help. Something;s happened, something terrible. Your family is trouble.”

“My family is right here. Who are you?” As much as she was stunned by his appearance, her dream man was clearly off his rocker. 

The man said, pleading, “An old friend. Now, I know you can’t remember me, but…I can make you.” He stepped forward, uninvited, and crushed his lips against hers. Instantly, a whoosh of air that seemingly came from their bodies caused everything in the apartment to shuffle. But at the same time, those dreams turned into memories, and Emma Swan stood there, intact, staring at the face of Killian Jones. 

“Killian?” she whispered. 

The smile that lit up his face would be one that she would remember for years to come. “Emma. It worked!” 

That feeling, that burst of air coming from her body…she had experienced that once before, when she kissed Henry and broke the curse…”Killian…are we?”

“It wouldn’t have worked if you didn’t feel the same, love,” he said, confidently. 

Emma licked her lips, and look straight into his blue eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

Her hand lifted to his jaw, caressing his stubble. “Was there a day that went by that you didn’t think of me?”

“Not a single one.” 

“Good.” With that, she met his lips once more, the warmth of his body coming closer and closer into contact with her own. “But you aren’t the only one…”

His lips met her collarbone as he stopped. “Aye?”

“I dreamt of you every night…”

“As if I wasn’t already burning for you…” Killian took hold of her pajama top and ripped it open with one hand, revealing her perky breasts to his heated gaze. Her nipple tightened in chill of the open air, making them perfect for him to nibble. He dropped to his knees, shrugging off the leather duster, as his mouth closed over one of the rosy buds. He laved her nipple with his tongue, eliciting tiny moans from Emma. “You have the most perfect breasts I have ever seen. And held. And licked” 

“Killian…don’t stop…”

“Never my intention…” His mouth returned to her breast as his hook eased her pajama bottoms off her hips, letting them fall to the floor. There she stood in only a pair of navy boy shorts with a golden anchor emblazoned on the front. How perfect. 

Killian’s mouth left her nipple, now chilled even more due to his saliva coating her skin. His hook traced the top of her underwear as he looked up to her. “Swan…may I?”

She nodded. 

In one fell swoop, her panties her down, and his jaw dropped at seeing Emma in all her glory. “You are goddess, You are my goddess. I am not worthy of you…”

“Killian?”

“Yes, my darling?”

“Shut up and lick me.”

“Bloody hell…” Hearing Emma using such coarse language had his cock at full mast behind his leathers. Killian dipped his head, and when his tongue came into contact with her clit, Emma almost collapsed. “You alright up there?” he joked, his lips kissing her swollen flesh. 

“If you do that I again, I might fall.”

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” Killian shot up from his knees and picked Emma up into his arms, carrying her over to the cherry wood dinner table that she got from Walsh’s furniture store. Killian laid her on on a table and stared at her like her was going to devour her. He spread her legs and dove right in, savoring her flavor against his tongue. But it was when he starting sucking on her clit that Emma thrashed about, needing something to grip onto, settling for the back of his head. 

“Oh god…I’m close…I’m so close…”

“Emma, come for me. Please.” Killian stared at her as she feel, a rush of wetness flowing onto his tongue. He lapped up as much as he could, and when he rose up to his full height, she could see her essence glistening off of his stubble. 

“As much I want to feel what it’s like to have your lips wrapped around me, I need to be inside of you,” Killian admitted. 

“Then why are you stalling?” Emma winked. 

“You are going to be the death of me, Swan.”

“Stop talking and fuck me, Captain.”

The sexy growl that came from Killian almost made her come again. Killian didn’t even both removing his shoes; he simply pushed down his leather pants, his throbbing erection pointing directly at Emma. “I am going to brand you form the inside, Emma. Everyone will know that you are mine and mine alone.” With that, he slide inside, giving way to mutual sighs of satisfaction. “So hot…so wet…so bloody tight…”

“God, you are so big…you fill me up so good…”

Their foreheads met as Killian began a steady pace, pumping in and out of her tight channel, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. The harder he went, the more the table under them squeaked. 

As he was praising her once again for her beauty, the lock clicked open, and a voice called out when the door was ajar. 

“Emma? Emma, i think we need to talk about last n…oh my god!”

Walsh’s sudden appearance did nothing to deter Killian’s rhythm, his cock pistoning in and out of Emma.

“Emma, what are you doing?!” Walsh whined. 

Killian, annoyed, turned over his should, stopping momentarily. “What does it look like, mate? Now, bugger off so I can bring my lady to completion.”

“Walsh. Get. Out.” Emma yelled. 

“But…But…” Killian slammed his hook into the cherry wood table, embedding it into the surface. “But I made that table..specially ordered for her…”

“And it makes a wonderful,” Killian said while thrusting into her, “stabilizer. Many thanks, mate.”

Still in shock, Walsh finally left, while Emma cried out, “Thankkkkk youuuuuu!” 

Killian looked at her and asked, “Were talking to to me or that git who just left?”

“Don’t care. Just don’t stop.”

Killian grasped at her hips, his balls slapping against her backside as he brought her closer and closer to orgasm. “Emma, come around my cock. I want to know what it feels like when you collapse around me.” 

“Killian!!!!!” With that, Emma fell, which triggered his own orgasm. Killian pumped his seed deep inside her, and then fell on top of her. They lay there for a moment, basking in the glow of finally being together. Their foreheads touched once again, and she was the first to speak. “So that’s what it feels like…”

“What what feels like?” Killian asked. 

“True love.” 

Keep reading

tvline.com
Once Upon a Time Season 5 Promo Has Dark Emma, Brave Merida and More
A new promo for Season 5 of Once Upon a Time reminds you of where the fantastical ABC drama has already been... and previews where it's going next. Debuting tonight, the teaser takes stock of some ...
By Matt Webb Mitovich

A new promo for Season 5 of Once Upon a Time reminds you of where the fantastical ABC drama has already been… and previews where it’s going next.

Debuting tonight, the teaser takes stock of some realms and familiar characters who to date have played a role on Once, before teasing the introduction of Brave‘s Merida (played by Amy Manson) and King Arthur’s knights of the Round Table.

The promo also reminds us of Emma’s new “look,” having allowed herself to be consumed by the Darkness in the May finale, in the name of saving Regina.

Summing up the theme for Season 5A as “Love is a dangerous weapon,” series cocreator Adam Horowitz told TVLine as part of our in-depth Fall Preview Q&A, “Emma is a very motivated Dark One. There’s a real driving force behind what she’s doing and why.”

EMMA

Jennifer Morrison told me that Emma feels “free,” not having to serve as Savior, with the Darkness now consuming her. The question is: Does that mean Dark Emma is aloof, disinterested or, worse, cruel to those she loves? Morrison champed at the bit (and studied up) to tackle this dark detour; let’s just hope Dark Emma doesn’t add to the body count she started with Cruella.

HOOK

Colin O'Donoghue has been deflecting suggestions that Hook, once very much a villain himself, might see in Dark Emma the most perfect girlfriend ever – which is, you know, kind of a shame. While the hope is that in the end the pirate will play a role in “saving” Emma, it’d be nice (and logical) to see him, if even for a fleeting beat, have his interest roused by her bad girl ways.

Keep reading

youtube

Still the most perfect video I’ve ever seen

anonymous asked:

I NEED YOU TO HELP ME! Could you write a meta about why the first CS kiss was romantic in terms of setting, music etc.? I am fed up of seeing STers saying that the kiss was nothing more than "a challenge" and that it was only a kiss to Emma. UGH. It was the most perfect romantic kiss ever to me

Hi nonnie! Thank you for this glorious, glorious question.

First, people who ship Emma with someone else are going to do whatever they can to cheapen the good moments (hah, good moments, see what I did there?) that CS has on the show - try to ignore it as much as possible. Trust me, I totally understand that it’s basically impossible…but the best thing to do is watch the scene again. That’s one of the best things about CS as a ship, in my opinion - what they do on-screen is just so charged and undeniable that it always makes me smile to see it. :) Luckily most of the people who ship Emma with someone else ship Hook with death or hell or something haha, so we don’t have to deal with that so much.

The hilarious thing about them saying that it was just a kiss to Emma is that she really doesn’t kiss people that often. She’s only had one other on-screen kiss in the present and it was with Graham, who obviously meant a great deal to her even though she didn’t know him for very long. The important thing to note about the Graham arc is that when he tried to kiss her and she didn’t want to kiss him, she DID NOT LET HIM. She was not having it AT ALL. That tells us that Emma Swan doesn’t kiss people unless she wants to. Emma doesn’t have that much control over many things in her life - she can’t control that she’s the savior and therefore responsible to do a lot of the saving (“The price of being the savior is I don’t get a day off”), and she couldn’t control ANYTHING that happened in her past (since when she got out of the system, August was hiding in the background).

More analysis under the cut!

Keep reading