Varcolac: A Hybrid Tale - Part Four (4/5)

Varcolac: A Hybrid Tale - Part Four for the @cssns

From Romanian folklore, encompassing traits attributed to both the vampire and werewolf, and loosely translated to mean ‘werewolf demon’, a varcolac is a hybrid.

Summary: A continuation of parts one and two, Killian and Emma are called back to Storybrooke where a series of attacks has plagued the town.

Rated: M - for language, darker themes, and sexy times / Part four of five (4/5)

A/N: A big thank you to @kmomof4 and the other @cssns mods for creating this event. Much love to @artistic-writer for being my kick ass beta, and another huge thank you to @flipperbrain for her stunning artwork!

Also available on ff.net, ao3, and my fic page. / Part One / Part Two / Part Three

Part Four

Killian crept along the underbrush of the forest, his senses heightened in his wolf form as he tracked the scent the vampire had left behind. After realization of the creature’s identity had struck him, Killian had transformed and snuck out of the cabin, determined to seek it out on his own. He knew he was to blame for it being there, and Killian’s gut had twisted painfully at the knowledge that all the attacks, the death of the Oz Alpha, were all because of him. He wouldn’t allow anyone else to put themselves in harm’s way on his behalf. Especially Emma.

With any luck, he’d be able to put an end to things peacefully. Convince the vampire he’d once called friend to turn himself in, so they could work through the grievance without further bloodshed. Hopefully with enough time to return to his mate before she left the comfort and warmth of their bed.

Killian felt a little guilty for sneaking out without so much as leaving a note, but was confident that her exhaustion from the day’s travel and stress would keep her from discovering his absence. If the vampire was unaware of her existence, Killian wanted to keep it that way. It would be safer for her should things escalate past the point of reconciliation. Killian knew he didn’t deserve, nor did he expect forgiveness for what he’d done, but surely there was a way for them to find a resolution without any more violence.

His ears swiveled and twitched at each noise as he padded deeper into the forest. Though many hours old, the now recognizable scent steadily filled Killian’s sinuses, leading him through brush and briar until he came to a small clearing several hundred yards from the cabin. It was too quiet here, and the change in the atmosphere around him made the fur along his back raise in wariness.

Killian was contemplating transforming so he could call out for the creature to appear when his paw pressed down on a hard metal plate. Too late he heard the soft clink of the spring release before the trap snapped around his front left leg. Searing pain burned up the extremity as the metal teeth were driven further into his flesh, crushing the bone beneath. Killian yelped and howled in pain, his cries echoing across the clearing while he attempted to transform so he could remove the infernal contraption. Another surge of agony went through him as he tried, and failed, to shift.

“Don’t bother,” a cold and familiar voice drawled from the shadows. “The trap is made of silver. You won’t be able to transform.”

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Varcolac: A Hybrid Tale - Part Three (3/5)

Varcolac: A Hybrid Tale - Part Three for the @cssns

From Romanian folklore, encompassing traits attributed to both the vampire and werewolf, and loosely translated to mean ‘werewolf demon’, a varcolac is a hybrid.

Summary: A continuation of parts one and two, Killian and Emma are called back to Storybrooke where a series of attacks has plagued the town.

Rated: M - for language, darker themes, and sexy times / Part three of five (3/5)

A/N: A big thank you to @kmomof4 and the other @cssns mods for creating this event. Much love to @artistic-writer for being my kick ass beta, and another huge thank you to @flipperbrain for her stunning artwork!

Also available on ff.net, ao3, and my fic page. / Part One / Part Two 

Part Three

The rattle of the phone buzzing on the bedside table echoed through the room.

“Ignore it,” Killian mumbled against Emma’s neck.

“It could be important,” Emma half-heartedly protested as Killian molded himself to her recently transformed body, pressing her further into the mattress as he continued his early morning explorations.

“Not as important as this.”

“As what?” Emma panted in eager anticipation at the graze of his fangs along her throat.

“Getting you to the point where you’ll howl my name in ecstacy.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Again with the wolf puns? Seriously?” The buzzing continued from the bedside table. “You really should answer that.”

“If you think I’m going to forego pleasuring my mate, so I can be talked into whatever new creature Cleo wants us to go after this time, you are barking up the wrong tree.”

“Ugh. That’s it.” Emma shoved Killian off her with a playful chuckle, then quickly sprang from the bed out of his reach. “Come up with new material,” buzz, “and answer your phone, Jones.”

“Swan!” Killian whined as she made her way into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her with a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

As much as she’d like nothing more than to let him carry through with his plans for her that morning, it was good for him to not always be the one to call the shots. Although he’d established them as equal partners in their bonds from the very beginning, Emma knew that his Alpha nature was there just beneath the surface. She appreciated her mate’s willingness to set aside his instinctual nature, and even though she had no problem with his dominance, it was fun to put him in his place every so often.

“Yeah, what,” she heard Killian snap irritatedly into the phone. The sound had Emma suppressing a giggle, until she heard his tone change. “Graham? What is it? Is it Granny? Ruby?”

Emma quickly finished throwing on some clothes and hurried back to an ashen faced Killian seated tensely on the edge of the bed.

“No, no. They’re fine,” Graham assured. Emma could feel the strain start to leave Killian’s body. “For now, at least.”

Killian met her confused expression with one of his own before he hit the speaker button on his phone. Although he knew she could hear what Graham was saying, it was his way of including her in the conversation.

“What do you mean, for now?” Killian questioned. “What’s going on, mate?”

A deep sigh crackled over the phone before the man answered. “I’ve got a situation here, Killian. I’m out of my depth and I… I need your help.”

“You need my help?”

“Well, yours and your mate’s,” Graham clarified.

“Emma,” Killian insisted, earning him a brief smile from her.

“Right, Emma. Sorry,” Graham replied with a hint of penitence. “From what Ruby tells me, this is right up your alley.”

“And what exactly is that? What’s going on, Graham?”

Another heavy pause stretched out over the line before he answered, “We’ve had a series of vampire attacks. I don’t know if it’s just one or several.”

“What kind of attacks?” Emma questioned, now earning herself a small smile from Killian as she pressed the man for answers.

“At first the victims were all in human form. They were persuaded, so they don’t remember anything about the attack, but they were left with varying degrees of injuries.”

“How many victims are we talking about? How long has this been going on?” Killian inquired.

“Eleven in the past three months.”

Killian and Emma both balked at his answer, with Emma quick to admonish, “And you’re just now calling for help?”

Another sigh. “The Oz pack wouldn’t agree to it… until now.”

“Why now? What’s changed?” Killian asked.

“During this last full moon cycle there was another attack,” Graham explained. “It or they went after the Oz pack’s Alpha… He’s dead, Killian.”

Killian sucked in a sharp breath at the news. Emma knew there was no love lost between the Oz pack’s Alpha (or any of its members) and the hybrid he’d always referred to as an abomination. Never having had the displeasure of meeting the Alpha herself, Emma had only ever heard him described as a real devil of a dog with his mate being a real wicked bitch - according to Ruby.

Emma met Killian’s eyes and neither of them had to say a word, their bond did all the communicating that was necessary.

“Give us the day to settle a few things we need to wrap up here,” Killian replied. “We’ll head to Storybrooke first thing tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Killian,” Graham exhaled on a relieved breath. “Thank you both.”

After ending the call Killian took Emma’s hand in his and lifted it to his lips. “I guess it’s back to werewolf country, love,” he quipped before placing a light kiss to the back of her hand.

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Varcolac: A Hybrid Tale - Part Three Sneak Peek

*Sigh* Fine. You asked, and my muse has answered…

Due to the overwhelming requests not you Krystal… you don’t count that I continue this little tale, and my muse’s willingness to do so, I have begun writing Part Three of Varcolac: A Hybrid Tale. I make zero promises for how soon this thing will be ready to post, but it is coming your way sometime this summer as part of the @cssns. For now, enjoy this sneak peek ;o)

(And thank you for enjoying the story so much that you didn’t want it to end! I’m blown away by your response! *mwah*) (Also, much love to @flipperbrain for the amazing hybrid art which I still can’t stop staring at)

Part Three - Sneak Peek

Tagging the usual crew. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged when Part Three drops, or if you’d like to be added to my ‘always tag me’ list.

@artistic-writer, @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, @onceuponaprincessworld, @snowbellewells, @branlovesouat, @snidgetsafan, @golfgirld, @aprilqueen84, @mezzanottecaffe, @daeneryskairipa, @jsilva0117, @teamhook, @sherlockianwhovian, @jennjenn615, @deathbycaptainswan, @bmbbcs4evr, @wyntereyez, @teamhook, @emmythedaydreamer, @its-about-bloody-time-cs, @amorecolorfulmoniker, @allofdafandoms-blog @thislassishooked

Varcolac tag requests: (if you’d like to be removed for Part Three updates, please just let me know.)

@flipperbrain​ @cocohook38​ @yayimallamaagain @ilovemesomekillianjones  @resident-of-storybrooke @best-left-hook-jones @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx 

Varcolac: A Hybrid Tale - Part Two

Varcolac: A Hybrid Tale - Part Two for the @cssns

From Romanian folklore, encompassing traits attributed to both the vampire and werewolf, and loosely translated to mean ‘werewolf demon’, a varcolac is a hybrid.

Summary: While heading home to prepare for the coming evening, Killian Jones happens upon a woman broken down on the side of the road. A woman who shifts the entire foundations of his being with just her scent. Killian Jones is a werewolf you see, and the unsuspecting lass has landed herself deep in werewolf country on the cusp of the first night of the full moon. Knowing he must get her on her way for her own safety, Killian offers to fix her vehicle, but things go awry in town when another wolf attempts to stake a claim on the stunning stranger. Now Killian must do all he can to protect the woman, Emma Swan, from a vengeful pack, all while keeping his true nature a secret from her. Turns out, Killian Jones is no ordinary werewolf.

Rated: M - for language, darker themes, and sexy times  

A/N: A big thank you to @kmomof4 and the other @cssns mods for creating this event. Much love to @artistic-writer for being my kick ass beta, and another huge thank you to @flipperbrain for her stunning artwork! 

Also available on ff.net, ao3, and my fic page. / Part One

Part Two

“I don’t want to be afraid of you either.”

Killian stood speechless at her declaration. He’d been sure that he’d shattered her trust in him beyond repair. Never imagined she’d offer him a chance to explain, much less open the door. He forced himself to keep his hands at his sides despite the need that itched in his palms and ached in his arms to reach out and hold her. He could hear her pulse pounding in his ears and her anxiety was palpable. She may not want to fear him, but he knew they had a ways to go before that want became a reality again.

If it ever could.

“Would you, uh, care to join me in the living room?” he asked tentatively. “I’ll answer any question. Tell you anything you want to know.”

Emma nodded wordlessly before he took several steps back to provide her a wide berth past him to the adjoining room. He waited until she chose to take a seat on the sofa closest to the fire, (and the heavy fireplace tools now located within arms reach from the hearth, not that he begrudged her that small comfort), before he took a seat in the club chair at the other end of the space.

Killian shifted uncomfortably in the silence that stretched on between them, determined to say nothing for fear it would fracture the fragile atmosphere surrounding them. He resigned to once again wait and let her take the lead.

“So, if you’re both,” she began softly, “A werewolf and a vampire. Do you… do you have both sets of abilities?”

Though she hadn’t so much as spared him a glance during her question, Killian could read her well enough to know what she was really asking.

What other threat might he pose to her?

“Not fully,” he answered. “I have all the traits you’d expect from a werewolf, as that is my born nature. The vampire side of me is… incomplete? I guess you’d say?”

“Incomplete how?”

“I don’t require a protective amulet in order to move about freely in the daylight, and though I do on occasion… crave blood. I do not require it for survival. My blood also has the power to heal the wounds of others, but with the standard side-effects if ingested.”

“Including turning someone?” she asked accusingly, her tone catching him off guard.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve never tried.”

Her eyes flicked up and met his. He could see hurt and anger swirling in their green depths, but he got the sense that those emotions were not directed towards him.

“What about persuasion?”

Her stare bore into his, and Killian was almost afraid to answer. Swallowing thickly he replied, “Aye. Persuasion, too.”

“Have you ever tried to persuade me?”

The question seemed to catch in her throat, causing her gaze to drop to the floor. Fresh guilt washed over him as he nodded in shame. “At the diner. I used it on everyone, hoping it would keep things from escalating too far.” His brow furrowed as he remembered her response. “But it didn’t seem to work on you.”

She brought her hand up absentmindedly and grasped the swan pendant he’d noticed she wore. “Was that the only time?”

Killian sat forward and tried to get her to meet his eyes, but she refused. He swore at himself. Of course she wouldn’t want to look him in the eye when they were discussing his ability to control her mind, will, and emotions.

“I swear to you, Emma. I have not attempted to control you in any way other than the moment in the diner. Every choice you’ve made since we met has been entirely your own.”

After several agonizing moments, Emma lifted her head to look at him. Killian’s breath rushed from his lungs in relief when she offered him a quick nod, signifying her acceptance of his word.

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This story is AMAZING I loved every bit of it!! Killian and Emma sharing their backstories was so beautiful, they are soulmates and love every part of each other 😭❤️

Any chance for a part 3?!? (asking nicely 😇)

Just Another AU

I have really no excuse for this.

summary: Emma Swan has a stressful job and a demanding family, and sometimes she just needs to unwind. Killian Jones is always willing to help out when he gets a distress call.

word count: ~4,2k

rating: oh so very M

also on: ff.net and ao3

Emma Swan nods a thanks when the waitress places her order in front of her. Exhaling slowly, she can already feel a bit of the tension dissolve and seep from her shoulders, trickle out of her mind. She closes her eyes and blends out the cacophony of sounds in the dimly lit bar. A vague whiff of air brushing her skin and a familiar smell indicate that someone has slipped into the booth beside her.

“Hello, beautiful,” says a low accented voice.

With her eyes still closed, she smiles and pushes one of the two tumblers over to the newcomer before she finally turns to look at him. “Jones,” she greets back and reaches for her own drink, “pleasure.”

He smirks. “That you can count on.”

She snorts a little laugh and raises her glass to him. “I hope so.”

He tilts his head and touches his tumbler to hers with a soft, clinking sound. They both take a sip, and their stares lock across their glasses. Suddenly Emma finds the temperature in the room has risen a few degrees; not that this is a surprise to her – that’s what Killian Jones does. That’s why she’s meeting him here regularly. She hums as the spiced dark rum warms her throat, leaving that familiar sharp sweetness on her tongue. Raising an eyebrow at her sound, he puts down his glass and slowly runs his tongue across his full bottom lip, a move that’s always bound to glue her gaze to his mouth, and he knows it.

“So,” he finally drawls, “how… urgent is it?” The minute pause and the emphasis on the word urgent charge the air between them. Emma feels a blush rise in her cheeks and is very grateful for the dim lights.

Weiterlesen

icymi and to tag a few lovelies: @cat-sophia @captain-k-jones @supportcaptainswan @kliomuse @supertallscandinaviangiant @galadriel26 @unspoken-and-wild @soulofkillian @lala-mora @gillie @ms-babs-gordon @a-fictional-life @bleebug @brooke-to-broch @captainswanandclintasha @cocoaswan @daxx04 @duathadun @daeneryskairipa @effulgentcolors @hookier @hooklineandswan @hookedmom @ive-always-been-a-pirate @always-a-slut-for-pirates @icapturedkindness @jscoutfinch @nowforruin @naiariddle @natascha-remi-ronin @snowbellewells @artandteaandstuff @donutevendothat @laelia @rookiehookie @simpledaydreamer @singingisfun @suwya @autoblocked @this-too-too-sullied-flesh @timeless-love-story @unfolded73 @ultraluckycatnd @vvbooklady1256 @wordsmith-storyweaver @walkerfairytales @wingedlioness @winterbaby89 @yeahiliketheredleatherjacket

CS Supernatural Summer :: Varcolac: A Hybrid Tale - Part One

Varcolac: A Hybrid Tale - Part One for the @cssns

From Romanian folklore, encompassing traits attributed to both the vampire and werewolf, and loosely translated to mean ‘werewolf demon’, a varcolac is a hybrid.

Summary: While heading home to prepare for the coming evening, Killian Jones happens upon a woman broken down on the side of the road. A woman who shifts the entire foundations of his being with just her scent. Killian Jones is a werewolf you see, and the unsuspecting lass has landed herself deep in werewolf country on the cusp of the first night of the full moon. Knowing he must get her on her way for her own safety, Killian offers to fix her vehicle, but things go awry in town when another wolf attempts to stake a claim on the stunning stranger. Now Killian must do all he can to protect the woman, Emma Swan, from a vengeful pack, all while keeping his true nature a secret from her. Turns out, Killian Jones is no ordinary werewolf.

Rated: M - for language, darker themes, and sexy times (in Part Two)  

A/N: This story first came to me last fall during the 2017 Halloweek, but got shelved in favor of other projects. A big thank you to @kmomof4 and the other @cssns mods for creating this event, so I could dust this fic off and give it another go. Much love to @artistic-writer for not only being my beta (and title supplier), but also my person. (If you had to murder someone, I’d cross the Pond to help you hide the body!) Another huge thank you (and Happy Belated Birthday!) to @flipperbrain for her stunning artwork! She created three pieces for me; the hybrid nature cover art and two content illustrations. I absolutely adore each one! Finally, a shout out to @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 who gave me the idea to adjust this from a werewolf to a hybrid fic. Thank you!

Also available on ff.net, ao3, and my fic page.

Part One

“Seriously?! What the hell?” Emma half whined in response to her bug, which was now merely coasting down the rural, back road thanks to the engine dying.

She was able to use its remaining inertia to pull off to the side of the road before bringing the car to a complete stop. Turning the key to see if she could get it to restart, Emma’s irritation spiked when the engine attempted to turn over without success. She did not have time for this.

Frustrated, Emma made her way to the back of the bug and wrenched open the engine lid. A slight acrid smell of something burning filled her nostrils, but she couldn’t see where it was coming from. Not that she even really knew what she was looking for. Her expertise with motor vehicle repair extended to standing with her hands on her hips while she scowled at the offending issue and waited for a tow truck.

Emma plucked her phone from her back pocket and cursed the lack of bars. No service. Just. Great. She pulled her hair back into a low ponytail and bent back over the engine, hoping that it might miraculously become animated and tell her the problem.

“Need a hand there, love?” a voice called out suddenly, catching Emma off guard and causing her to bang her head on the engine lid.

“Ow!” Emma’s eyes began to water as she rubbed the now tender spot on the back of her skull.

“Sorry about that,” the voice called again, closer this time. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I can take a look at your engine if you’re having trouble.”

Emma blinked the sting out of her eyes and tried to focus on the figure that was making his way toward her from a truck that had apparently pulled over to assist. Then she had to keep blinking. The man before her couldn’t possibly be real.

“Uh… sure. Thanks.”

The man flashed her a friendly smile and continued forward.

Given her line of work, Emma considered herself a quick and accurate judge of character. Working in bail bonds, with the occasional assignment that drifted into bounty hunter territory, it was imperative she knew exactly who she was dealing with. She could discover quite a bit about a person from the way they walked and how they carried themselves, the facial expressions they gave and how well they matched the tone in their voice or the intent within their eyes. Emma had an uncanny ability to read people, and she could spot a lie from a mile away. She found herself at a complete loss with the contradiction of the man making his way toward her, though.

He had a stalking swagger that screamed trouble, only it was juxtaposed with a soft, sincere smile. Eyes a piercing blue seemed to track her movements with sharp, predatory focus, but were framed with flirty, arched brows and friendly crinkles at their corners. Emma got the sense that this was a man she could trust while simultaneously feeling like she should run for the hills. Running probably wouldn’t be a smart option, though. Something in his eyes told her he’d only give chase if she ran, and she found that she wouldn’t mind if he did.

His dark, disheveled hair fluttered in the breeze, and when he finally finished his approach she could see an auburn tint to the light scuff that adorned his visibly clenched jaw. He swallowed and wet his lips before extending his hand and offered an introduction.

“Killian Jones. At your service.”

He had an accent she realised. Of course, he did.

“Emma,” she replied as she shook his strong, calloused hand. “Emma Swan.”

“Let’s see what the trouble is, shall we?”

He released her hand and bent over the engine to begin his assessment. Wow, he smells good. Emma couldn’t ever remember having such a strong olfactory response to a person, but the mixture of masculine scents with the sweet hint of recent exertions had her feeling dizzy and flushed. As did the view of his ass, which she assessed with as much scrutiny as he did her bug’s motor.

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CS AU: Huzzah!

CS AU: Huzzah! // Gifted to @pirateherokillian ​for the @csficformal​.

Pip, I apologize for being a terrible replacement date. I know I never called reached out after our initial contact, and this isn’t at all what you asked for BUT… please don’t excuse yourself to the ladies room so you can sneak out the back just yet! Even though this isn’t what you initially pitched, I hope you enjoy it. I had so much fun writing (and arting) it for you!

I was inspired by my family’s recent trip to Las Vegas to write this. We went to see Tournament of Kings, and it reminded me of a Medieval Times AU I thought about writing some time ago. I’ve mixed elements from both experiences, and took some big creative license with the actual show in order to give Killian and Emma more interaction.

Much love to @kmomof4​ and @artistic-writer​ for giving this a once over for me! *mwah*

Rated: Teen / ~2500 words /  Also available on ff.net and ao3 (links to come)

“I told you we should have gotten tickets earlier in the week,” Ruby groused as they waited in line for the doors to open.

“Oh, cheer up,” Mary Margaret chirped. “This will be just as fun.”

“As fun as watching hot Australian men strip down to less than their skivvies? I doubt it,” Ruby grumbled.

“There are attractive men in this show, too,” Mary Margaret tried to appease. “And horses.”

“Yippee,” Ruby muttered. “I’m sure Ems considers that an even trade to oiled up hotties.”

“It’s fine, guys. Really,” Emma assured. “I’m sure this will be fun, too.”

“Absolutely,” Mary Margaret cheered. “None of us knew Thunder From Down Under would sell out, so I intend to make the best out of the option before us.”

The line began to move, and the three women were escorted to their seats in the front row of the arena. It was the final night all three of them would be together in Sin City, and they had wanted to take in a show. Ruby had suggested the male strip tease, but the performance was sold out due to a number of bachelorette parties that had pre-purchased group tickets. Their only other option, without having to leave their hotel, was the medieval themed dining experience Tournament of Kings; a live action production that included a three course meal - sans utensils - while audience members cheered for various kings competing in an Arthurian style tournament, complete with sword fights and jousting on horseback.

“Good evening, ladies,” their server greeted. “Welcome to the Ireland section. What can I get you to drink this evening?”

Emma ordered herself a glass of wine then took a moment to take in her surroundings as Ruby and Mary Margaret placed their orders. The arena was horseshoe shaped with a stage area located at the open end. A series of countries spanned the oval, with their section, Ireland, situated right next to the stage. Other countries included Russia, Norway, Spain, Austria, Hungary, and France as well as a section simply labeled Dragon.

Emma and her friends chatted as they enjoyed the soup course, reflecting over the week they’d shared together. Early the next morning, Mary Margaret would be on a plane heading back to Storybrooke, Maine, having flown in the week before to help her friends settle into their new life in Las Vegas. As their main course was served, Merlin took the stage to kick off the show with The Court Jester. Although the intro was a bit hokey, by the time the actors got the crowd huzzahing, pounding the counters in front of them, and toasting with a hearty here, here, Emma had to admit that she was having a good time. Even Ruby was smiling.

“My Lords and Ladies,” Merlin announced. “It is now time to welcome your kings!”

A loud cheer erupted from the crowd. Emma found herself joining in, pounding her palms against the counter in front of her as she yelled huzzah with the rest of her section when the King of Ireland was announced.

He rode in on a black horse and circled the arena, ending his triumphal entry in front of his section as he waved and nodded to the crowd. Emma nearly choked on her chicken at the sight of him. Dark disheveled hair, much shorter than his competitors’, but still with a wisp of bang swept over his forehead. Piercing blue eyes and expressive brows accompanied a dusting of auburn scruff that highlighted his lopsided grin. In a word… the man was gorgeous, and Emma had seen her fair share of attractive men since arriving on the Strip. The Irish King met her gaze and his eyes widened with interest before he offered a wink. Emma suddenly felt rather warm and flagged down their server to ask for some water.

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Privacy And Pancakes

Hello @whimsicallyenchantedrose here’s the very belated fic for your prompt “caught by the parents”. You sent it way before pancakes on the show happened, and it took me way too long, and then I didn’t know how to do it without copying it… anyway, here we go.

summary: You’d think Snow has learned not to use her spare key. Well, she hasn’t. And this time, she brought David.

word count: ~4,2k

rating: G and CP for chicken parm. Also B for bathtub

also on ff.net and ao3.

“That was quite the closure for our honeymoon,” Emma sighs as she descends the gangplank, Killian right on her heels.

“A bit of a storm,” he agrees and adds smoothly, “but I’ve weathered worse.”

“Showoff,” she huffs and stumbles for a second when she steps on the dock, having to adjust to being on firm ground again for the first time after a ten days’ sailing trip. In was indeed their – slightly belated – honeymoon, and they’re home half a day early, due to the storm that pushed them forward.

Killian grabs her elbow to steady her. “Admit it,” he chuckles in a low voice, “I’m a hell of a Captain.”

She can’t help but lean into his touch when he uses her momentary unsteadiness as an excuse to press himself to her. “You are,” she concedes and turns her head to look at him. “I’ll poof us right home if you’re okay with it?”

He nods with a smile – as eager to get home as she is – and she transports them to their house in a whirl of magic. She brings them right outside their door and not directly inside, because she enjoys the ritual of coming home to their own place so much: walking up the stairs, unlocking the door and going inside, taking off their boots and lining them up on the mat behind the door. Normal things, like normal couples. They haven’t had much time yet to truly enjoy their quiet domestic moments, so none of it is routine so far, and every day is a new chapter in the adventure of True Love.

“Go ahead,” she tells him and motions to the stairs, “I’ll get us some cocoa to warm us up. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

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CS Noir AU: Swan and Shadows

Swan and Shadows 

A quick ficlet in response to @snowbellewells prompt: I think it would neat to do one of those film noir, black-and-white 40s detective movies (like The Maltese Falcon) AUs.

Thank you for this prompt, Marta! It was fun to explore this genre, even if that journey led me to the conclusion that I am not cut out to write true Noir. I hope you enjoy my take on it though!!

Rated T / ~1200 words / Also available in my CS (and other) Prompts, Challenges, and Drabbles on ao3 and ff.net 

The fog hung heavy in the air; a shroud of ominous premonition foretelling events Emma was determined to avoid. It was the kind of night where you locked your doors and pulled your curtains tight. A night where polite society turned a blind eye to the seedy underbelly that tended to carouse more openly, choosing willful ignorance so as to not sully itself with awareness of the wretchedness that existed within the shadows.

Emma Swan did not have the luxury of ignorance. Nor did she have the luxury of believing some white knight would arrive to rescue her from the wretchedness she now found herself in. She believed the only one that saved her was her, and no amount of fog or shadows was going to stop her from collecting the tattered remains of a life that had been pretty good up until yesterday. Up until her no good boss, August Booth, had gotten in too deep with the Stiltskins and decided to skip town, leaving her high and dry with a business that was now bust and the threat of mob goons beating down her door.

Keeping to the back alleys, Emma made her way to the now deserted street were the Booth Private Investigations’ office was located. She waited several minutes staking out the building before determining it was safe enough to enter. The rapid click of her heels as she darted across the street had her cursing internally, and one almost became audible as a shadowy figure of a man stepped out into the road before her.

Frozen in the middle of the street, Emma ceased to draw breath as her heart slammed in her rib cage. After what seemed to be an eternity, the male specter flicked his cigarette into the gutter and turned, heading in the opposite direction with a purposeful set in his stride. As soon as the figure disappeared around the corner Emma bolted for the building’s entrance.

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A Helping Hand

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11 Ch 12 Ch 13

Chapter 14: Fourth of July

Killian didn’t even attempt to suppress the smile from his lips when he woke up the next morning with Emma in his arms, his hand tucked under her top and grasping onto one of her perfect breasts. He wanted to shout out how happy he was to the world from the rooftops, but for him it wasn’t an option at the moment, and honestly it hurt like hell that he couldn’t, but he wasn’t going to let that sour his mood. Besides, there was this energy swarming through him which fueled the urge run laps around the campsite or even the whole beach. This energy gave him life. In fact, as sated as his limbs felt, just laying there was driving him crazy. And his blonde angel beside him looked so comfortable and peaceful, he didn’t wish to disturb her, so he carefully removed his hand from her boob and rolled her over so she was laying on her back as he gently slid his other arm from underneath her head.

“Where you going, baby?” Emma’s sleepy words surprised him; she still had her eyes closed. Killian grinned and lifted her hand, pressing a delicate kiss to each of her fingertips, his heart speeding up a bit as he felt the softness underneath his lips.

“Just going for a jog, sweetling. I’m feeling a bit antsy, and it’s six in the morning so you should go back to sleep.”

Emma groaned—it was a groggy, needy sound that pulled at the strings of his heart—but she didn’t argue with him. “‘Kay,” she breathed, sifting her fingers through his chest hair. “I will miss your body heat.” Her voice was raspy as she spoke, and she was so adorable, the thought of leaving her was painful, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to rest, and he would end up disturbing her and messing with her beauty sleep. Not that she needed it.

“Is that all I’m good for?” he chuckled, running his hand through her bangs to push them aside, his thumb caressing the pale lines of her forehead, “My body heat?”

A lazy smirk crawled across Emma’s lips as she bit her bottom one, continuing to drag her hand across his chest, her fingers tracing around one of his nipples. “You know that’s not true.” Her words were slurred as she gripped his sides, pulling him to her. “You’re good for many, many things.” Emma spoke like she were drunk, but there was not a trace of alcohol in her system. Like him, she was drunk on love. They both revelled in the feeling as Killian leaned down and kissed her hard and deep, expressing everything he felt.

She sighed pleasantly against him and when he pulled away, she licked her lips, her eyelids still shut. It was very difficult to leave her side, but he knew if he didn’t, things would quickly spiral into something more. Their romps in the little tent were very gratifying, but he could hear voices outside, indicating people were already awake, and all they had to do was unzip the tent to see that Killian and Emma were much more than friends. Besides, he really needed to work off some of the harbored energy inside him to maintain some sort of sanity because he was out of his mind in love with the enchanting woman he was currently holding in his arms.

So reluctantly, he let her go, kissing her sweetly on the forehead before pulling away. “Get some sleep, love.”

Other than the small whine that tore from her throat, she was incapable of protesting at that point, too sleepy to do anything else, other than turn on her side and tuck her hands under her cheek, her body wriggling slightly to get more comfortable.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Emma nodded and whispered, “Love you.”

Killian smiled and watched as she started to drift off to sleep; it was really difficult to leave, but he summoned the strength, and with an “I love you too, Swan,” he kissed her forehead once more and got up, quietly changing into a t-shirt and shorts before leaving the tent.

The morning air was pleasant and the sounds of the seagulls and the tide crashing into the shore were calming, he got lost in his run on the beach, and the time quickly slipped through his fingers. By the time he got back, he was panting heavily, dripping with sweat and pretty sure someone would be able to smell him from a mile away.

He quietly snuck into the tent and grabbed his bag full of toiletries, some clothes and a towel, stuffing them into his duffle bag. Emma was still sleeping, so he made sure to be as quiet as possible before slipping out of the tent.

Liam and David were ready to go as Mary Margaret and Leo were just waking up and the other women were still sleeping.

“Morning little brother. You slept well, I take it?” Liam greeted, his sleepy eyes lighting up with curiosity.

The big grin permanently plastered to Killian’s features must have gave himself away. “Younger brother. And aye, I did sleep very well actually.”

“You mean Emma didn’t keep you up with her snoring?” David teased playfully, patting Killian’s  shoulder.

Killian chuckled. She kept him up alright, but not because of her snoring. “You’re one to talk, mate. Your snoring could wake the dead.”

David frowned. “I don’t snore. I sleep like I’m under a sleeping curse; that’s what Mary Margaret always tells me.”

Liam and Killian exchanged amused glances as they headed away from the campsite. “And I’m sure she’s not telling you that to protect your feelings,” Killian teased.

“It doesn’t matter—she’d love you either way, which is a very good thing,” Liam added seriously, but at the same time, he and Killian were trying their best not to laugh.

Killian found it difficult to believe that as long as they’ve been together, Mary Margaret had never told him he snored, but then again they were a couple who still acted like they were on their honeymoon. He could sense there was a great deal of history between them, but there was also an undeniable, unbreakable love illuminating from the two, which was usually only visible between newlyweds.

David smiled broadly and proudly. “She really would. And yes , that is a very good thing.”

The subject was dropped, and Killian walked with the two fellas through the woods, chatting about their plans for the day. It was actually pleasant, and neither of them mentioned Emma or Ruby or anything involving his lovelife, and Killian was grateful that they could just shoot the breeze without anything getting in the way.  

They reached the showers; there were five, four of which were empty, and Killian chose the one on the end, next to the stall David had disappeared into. After closing and locking the door behind him, setting his bag on the bench and hanging up his towel on the hook, Killian turned on the shower, twisting the knobs until the water reached his desired temperature. He retrieved a bar of soap, some shampoo and a scrub from his bag before getting undressed, placing his clothes on the bench and stepping underneath the shower. He sighed in content when the water cascaded over him, hitting his skin. Bending his head down to wet his hair, visions of Emma started playing in his head as he scrubbed the shampoo through his locks, lathering the soap under his fingertips. As satisfied as he was, he could never get enough of her. As he finished rinsing his hair, he heard a knock on the door.

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CS AU: Ballet (Mis)Steps

Ballet (Mis)Steps: CS Modern AU

Happy Valentine’s Day @dragon-princess!! I’m so happy to finally reveal myself as your CS Secret Valentine. I hope you enjoy your gift! It was a pleasure writing it for you.

A/N: Candy hearts and kisses to @ilovemesomekillianjones for betaing this for me, and @kmomof4 and @winterbaby89 for being my cheerleaders! *mwah*

Rated: M for language and sexy times / ~9400 words / Also available on ff.net and ao3 / line break indicates scene change

The rustling thud of the newspaper hitting her desk made Emma’s head snap up. Standing before her, with his arms crossed over his chest, was her brother and editor, David. He had his boss face on, but there was something else peeking around the corner of his expression. Something sly and conspiratorial. He wanted something.

“Did you see this?” David gestured at the front page of that morning’s paper. A mangled heap of what used to be a car was depicted below the headline, Storybrooke Ballet Company: Is It Curtains For New Ballet’s Opening Night?

Emma scanned the article. The totaled vehicle had apparently belonged to Storybrooke Ballet Company’s principal male dancer. He and his understudy were both injured in the accident which had occurred the night prior, after leaving their final dress rehearsal before opening night of the new ballet.

Which was tonight.

“What are they going to do without their leading man or his understudy?” Emma asked while still scanning the article for that answer, which David ended up supplying.

“The choreographer is going on in his place.”

David’s statement had Emma’s head snapping up once more, her mouth hung slack and her eyes widened as her brows shot up her forehead.

“What?! He’s going to-”

“Come out of retirement,” David finished. “And you’re going to be there to witness it.”

There it was. The reason for the sly glint in his eye.

“But that’s Anna’s beat. Why am I covering the ballet all of a sudden?”

“You know why, Emma.” David looked at her pointedly. “You two have a history together. I want you to get an interview with him after the performance.”

“Jones doesn’t do interviews.”

The last interview Killian Jones had ever given was on the day he’d announced his retirement. It had stunned the ballet world. Killian Jones was the principal leading man, with talent that rivaled some of the greatest legends of modern ballet. His devastatingly handsome looks and charisma only added to the romanticism and sensuality a good leading man should possess, which made him a sensation in the dance world. Every choreographer wanted to work with him, every prima ballerina wanted to dance with him, and every chorus line member (male and female), and most patrons wanted to fuck him. He’d had it all, and then suddenly four years ago, he walked away.

He went completely off the grid for nearly a year only to reemerge at a small ballet company in London as their new choreographer. For the past three years he’d been making a name for himself in his new role, and had relocated back to the United States only five months ago to take over as resident choreographer for the Storybrooke Ballet Company. The place he’d first gotten his start more than a decade ago when he’d attended the ballet academy, then later earned a position within the company that sponsored it.

The same ballet academy Emma had trained at, which was where she’d met him.

Killian Jones.

The one that got away.

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Aaahhh, I’m in love!!! ❤️❤️❤️ This is so amazing and beautiful and sexy and how did you know I’m actually a dancer ...

Chapter 13: Hungry like the wolf

Summary: My girlfriend just dumped me and I’ve gotten piss drunk and somehow managed to get into your apartment instead of my own. I’m trying to masturbate my feelings away and boy were you surprised. Based on a Tumblr prompt that spiraled out of control.

A/N: Okay, there were a few bumps in the road while writing this one, but it’s here. As always, thank you for your patience.

Thank you @ilovemesomekillianjones for being an awesome beta-reader and possessing wizard-like editing skills! I had to add on to the story because of a stupid mistake I made and she literally had the section finished before the chapter was completed. 

This campground they are staying at is completely made up and not based off of any place in particular. I’ve learned that the more I write, the more I stop basing things off of real life and the more I just make shit up, so please forgive me for this beach that has made it possible for Emma and Killian to have some “alone time” as crowded as it may be ;-)

Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy!

Rated: Mature for sex and salty language

Also available: AO3 FF.N

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11 Ch 12

Killian could sense something was off when he observed Emma that night. She appeared to be guilty about something, and he was pretty sure she was about to burst into tears at any moment. Luckily no one else noticed, as they were all gathered around the campfire, too caught up in making fun of him for falling in the mud.

“Do you want me to try and get out the stains,” Mary Margaret asked him, and he was blushing profusely, scratching behind his ear.

“That’s okay, lass. It’s my own fault; I can wash it when we get home.”

“Okay. You just soak the jeans in cool water, use a half teaspoon of liquid detergent and a tablespoon of vinegar and soak for thirty minutes before you wash it.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled, thoroughly embarrassed. His muddy pants had been a topic of discussion for far too long by that point. He didn’t even have mud on them, and it had happened yesterday so really the fabricated incident should’ve been long forgotten.

Emma and Killian were finally able to escape when she announced she had to use the restroom. He offered to go with her since it was dark out and he didn’t want her walking alone in the woods. There was definitely something strange going on because when Mary Margaret and Elsa looked like they were about to get up, Ruby spoke up, asking the two of them questions to distract them, he guessed. She also threw them both a wink as they left.

Killian was actually starting to get excited as they began their trek in the woods. Could Emma have told Ruby about the two of them? Was it time to finally share their relationship with everyone? Although he thought if anyone were to find out first, it would be either Elsa or Mary Margaret.

Emma was very quiet as Killian shined a flashlight to guide their path. When they could no longer hear their friends chatting and laughing in the distance, Emma stopped and whirled around in front of him; he could see the panic flashing in her eyes through the darkness of the night.

“Killian, I screwed up.”

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A Hard Day’s Night

After a bunch of super angsty stories I had a mighty need to write some smut. I’m not even sorry. And yes, of course I stole the title!

title: A Hard Day’s Night

summary: Emma sends Killian an indecent selfie, and like Regina once said: never thinking of the consequences…

rating: m, hell yeah.

word count: 4k

also on ff.net and ao3

With her hair tied into a loose ponytail and still damp from her evening shower, Emma leaves the bathroom, just clad in a white tank top and soft grey cotton panties. As she won’t be leaving the house again today and Henry isn’t home, she hasn’t bothered to put on a bra. She’s contemplating whether to put on yoga pants or sweatpants for the cozy evening with pizza and Netflix she’s planned, when the bedroom door is thrown open. Not really startled, because she knew Killian would be home around that time, she still jumps a little.

“Hey!” she greets him with a smile and walks up to him immediately, raising on her tiptoes to press a lingering kiss to his lips. They taste salty, as he has been out with his ship all day, testing and fixing the new sail he has rigged her with. Playfully, she nips at his bottom lip before releasing him. “I just got back in from the station,” she tells him, “I’m glad you’re already home!”

He growls a little in response to her kiss, pulling her against him with his hand splayed on her lower back, before he replies pointedly, “So am I. For various reasons.” Stepping back, he tilts his head and raises his eyebrows at her, adding dryly, “As you certainly can imagine, love.”

Emma bats her eyelashes innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, husband,” she claims, the smirk playing around her lips clearly belying her.

“Oh, really?” He points his ringed index finger at her. “You are a dirty little liar, Swan,” he declares, “and a bloody tease.”

She can barely keep the self-satisfaction from her voice. “You’re talking about the… message I sent?”

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icymi ands to tag a few lovelies - please forgive me and feel free to ignore if you’ve already seen it or don’t care about it @cat-sophia @the-lady-of-misthaven @captain-k-jones @always-a-slut-for-pirates @idontdothatveryoften @ive-always-been-a-pirate @snowbellewells @simpledaydreamer @unfolded73 @lifeinahole27 @soulofkillian @cocohook38 @unspoken-and-wild @this-too-too-sullied-flesh @queen-mabs-revenge @gillie @captainswansource @jennifer-morrison @bleebug @fezfanatic @marajade4s @brooke-to-broch @ms-babs-gordon @dramawiie @the-captains-ayebrows @singingisfun @bromfieldhall @walkerfairytales @jscoutfinch @natascha-remi-ronin @britishguyslover @dragon-princess @captainswanandclintasha @artandteaandstuff @hookedmom

A Helping Hand

Chapter 12: Camping

Emma knew the drive to the campsite would be long, but this was certainly exceeding her expectations. It didn’t help that when Elsa and Liam weren’t talking about wedding plans, Liam was constantly interrogating her about Killian since she’d assured him wholeheartedly that they were only friends. Now he seemed insistent on taking advantage of that detail. Damn stubborn British men. The only thing that kept her sane was sneaking a peek at her phone every now and then to see a text from Killian pop up on her screen. Her heart did not do flip flops every Goddamn time. Certainly not.

Killian: Hope your ride is better than mine. My palms are sweating from David’s interrogation, making sure I’m not up to no good.

Although Emma was a bit annoyed by her friend and the fact that he was making Killian uncomfortable, she had to laugh a little. She secretly enjoyed how protective David was; it was something she had grown accustomed to since she’d met the Nolans.

Emma: Don’t know if I would say it’s better per se, seeing as your brother is getting his kicks from trying to siphon information from me as well. He thinks you are hiding some big secret from him.

Killian: Ahh, but you forget, love, I AM hiding some big secret from him in the form of a gorgeous siren—YOU. Not that I’m not complaining. Happy to keep such a wonderful thing to myself. Though I do have to apologize on behalf of my brother. He can be a bit overbearing, as you know.

Emma snorted and typed a reply

Emma: A BIT overbearing???? I’m afraid you’ve misspoken because I believe you meant to say A LOT overbearing… and in that case, I’m fully aware.

Killian: LOL you are right, love. He’s indeed overbearing sometimes—most of the time.

Emma: That I can definitely agree with. And by the way, I’m sorry about David. He can be quite overbearing too.

Killian: Aye, I’m surprised he and Liam aren’t best mates. Then again, perhaps they’re both too competitive and would only butt heads?

Emma: Perhaps you’re right. I’m sure we’ll find out though. This trip will certainly bring them closer together.

Killian: I wish I could say the same for you and I. I would certainly like to be closer to you ;-) We may not have that opportunity though :-(

Emma: Who knows? We may have more than you think.

Killian: Oh, is that so? Do tell.

Emma snickered.

Emma: ah ah, I’m not telling. You’ll just have to wait and see…

Killian: I’m officially intrigued. I look forward to seeing what you have up your sleeve.

Smirking, her fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed out her response.

Emma: You should be more intrigued by what I’ll have down your pants ;-)

Killian: Bloody hell woman… ugh I can’t wait… minx.

Emma: Me neither.

“What are you back there laughing and smiling about?”

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A Helping Hand ‘Sneak Peek Pt. 2’

Chapter 12

“But our friends are right outside…” Emma tried in a strangled whisper, her breathing labored as Killian sucked on her neck and slipped his hand under her shirt, pushing her bra aside and firmly cupping her breast in his rough hand. She tilted her head back, biting her bottom lip trying not to squirm or cry out.

“And your point?” Ducking his head down, he lifted her shirt and drew her nipple in his mouth, making it instantly hard as he lapped at it, flicking his warm tongue over the stiffness and groaning softly against her skin. Emma melted; his breath was hot and his mouth was so wet and soft, it was heavenly.

Emma had to stifle a moan as she carded her hands through his hair, encouraging him to continue despite her previous words. She did not have the willpower to stop him. She didn’t want him to stop.

“So what if they are?” Killian growled as his hand released her breast, and with a quick, stealthy flick of the button of her jeans, he had it undone in seconds, sliding his hand into her panties and feeling the wetness pooling around her folds and seeping into the thin material.

As he dipped two fingers into her dripping heat, brushing his thumb over her clit, both of them uttered a “fuck" at the same time.

Killian’s ministrations were full of purpose and intention as he hungrily sucked on her breast, tugging gently on the nipple with his teeth and fondled and fucked her with his fingers. “So what if I made you come right here?” he murmured into her skin, his voice deep and husky sending tingles of pleasure through her body. “What if I made you come on David’s sleeping bag?”

Arrest Me, Officer

Summary: “I met my husband when I went running outside with no clothes on as a dare. He was the cop who arrested me.”

A/N: Something to read for a rainy day. Inspired by several things, including my own post and many others’ regarding the title.

Rated: T

Also Available on: AO3 FFN

Emma can’t believe she is actually doing this.

How in the world did she allow her best friend to talk her into streaking down Main Street in the middle of the night? Okay, so she’s a little drunk, and certainly feeling the buzz of the few coke and vodka shots she recently threw back, but still, this goes above and beyond irrational thinking and irresponsible behavior.

Maybe it’s the risk of getting caught, or the undeniable fact that the Boston Police Department is run by an evil, vapid invalid (okay, maybe it’s more of a popular opinion than a fact), and even if there’s the rare chance that one of the officers who works there decides to get the hell out of their chairs and donut-induced comas and catch her, well Emma will certainly consider it as an improvement in crime prevention in this wonderful city.

Although, there’s also the possibility that the newest officer in town is capable of doing his job; she hasn’t met him yet, but she’s seen him around, and if he can catch criminals as well as he looks in a uniform, then he’s already far better than any of his colleagues. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking ( yes , it’s definitely the alcohol and not the, ahem , fact that the Boston Police Officer is a freaking blue-eyed God in human form), but Emma decides she’s more than willing to find out. He works the overnight shifts, after all, so who knows, maybe the guy’s up for the challenge.

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simply having a wonderful christmastime

Summary: After their Christmas plans fall through, Killian is determined to give Emma and Henry Swan the best Christmas they’d ever known. Modern AU.

Rating: G

Words: ~4500

A/N: This is for my CSSS giftee @dragon-princess ! Sorry it took me so long to get this to you, but I wanted to make sure everything worked. I hope you like it! Also if you like Neal, there’s a little bit of Neal bashing in this fic sorry! Also, the spelling mistakes in Henry’s letter to Santa are deliberate! 

Read on Ao3 here! 

The clatter of bells, the door sounding open, and a rushed, “Killy! Killy! Killy! Killy!” alerted Killian Jones to the fact that his morning had officially begun. He watched a small mop of brown hair get closer and closer to his counter, before he took pity on the three year old and stepped out to greet him.

“Hey, little man,” Killian said cheerfully, scooping Henry up into his arms.

The boy was the son of his best friend in the whole world, Emma Swan. The two would stop by the diner every morning before Emma dropped Henry off at preschool before she went to work as a cop in Boston’s police department. Killian only took the morning shifts before he went to go teach at the local university. He probably would’ve quit ages ago, had it not been for the beautiful blond and the vivacious boy that greeted him every weekday.

Well that and Granny was pretty amenable with his teaching schedule and was easy enough to persuade to give him more time off before the end of each semester.

“What’d you do with your mum, huh?” He shook the boy a little bit and when Henry began to laugh, Killian began to laugh to. “You know she turns into a big grumpy bear without her coffee.”

“I resent that,” Emma said tiredly, a few footsteps behind her son as she entered the diner. “But because it’s Christmas, I’ll forgive you.”

“It’s not Christmas yet,” Killian replied cheekily as he produced a warm cup of coffee—one milk, one sugar and for the love of God, Jones as hot as you can humanly make it—and put it in her hands. “Now, let me see if I got the little man’s order right. Hmm…boiled mackerel and brussel sprouts?”

“No!” Henry giggled. Emma even let out a little laugh as she sat down to drink her coffee. “It’s Friday, Killy! Means I get the special breakfast!” 

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