#mayquita writes
Text
Damn You For Making Me Love You (15/15) - Epilogue / Don’t Stop Believing
That's it, this is the end. Or maybe not? I must confess that my idea for the epilogue was slightly different, but I was running out of time, so I had no choice but to present this alternative ending. Despite this, I think it works. Also, that will allow me to continue exploring this universe because I intend to write that ending. I don't know when, but I will. I'm determined.
One last note. The scene of the last performance is entirely inspired by a movie. In case you don't get it I'll reveal it at the end. In the meantime, enjoy the reading.
Thank you very much for joining me on this adventure during these last weeks.
Beta-Reader: Thank you so much, @ultraluckycatnd I couldn’t have asked for a better beta. Thank you for all your effort, your suggestions, your advice and for always being there when I needed you.
Special mention to @saraswans and @onceuponaprincessworld, thank you so much for your perpetual support and for believing in me and in the story. Thank you again to the moderators of the event, @captainswanbigbang for giving us this opportunity and making this possible. You all are the best :)
Summary: Emma Swan and Killian Jones are close friends and co-workers. And both are in love with each other. The problem? They keep their feelings secret not only to the other but also to the rest of their friends. When Elsa, Emma’s best friend and Liam, Killian’s brother and Emma’s boss find out, they decide to form an alliance and work as a team with a clear goal, to get Emma and Killian to take the next step in their relationship and confess their love for each other.
Rating: M
Word count: ~ 6700 (98k total in 15 chapters)
Ao3 / FFnet
//
Epilogue - Don’t Stop Believing
Liam - January 4, 2020
Liam couldn't stop smiling. It was as if, after their little getaway and his little — big — discoveries in the cabin, a permanent smile had settled on his lips. He had several reasons to do it, really. On the one hand, his brother and Emma had finally decided to give themselves a chance, leaving behind their fears and embracing their feelings. On the other hand, the acceptance of his feelings towards Elsa — and the fact that they were reciprocated — had led him to a state of almost continuous contentment.
There was no better way to start the year, honestly.
Speaking of Elsa... Liam looked up, directing his gaze towards the entrance of the Kraken. She was late. Since their return last Wednesday, they hadn't seen each other as much as he would have liked; not for lack of interest, but because of their respective responsibilities. But they had agreed to meet at the bar today, something not surprising since Elsa hadn't missed any of Killian's performances in the past few weeks. She wasn't going to miss it today either, of course, since it would be the first time Killian and Emma not only seemed to be a couple on stage, but were a couple in real life.
"She will be here soon." Emma's unexpected voice startled him while she came to stand beside him. "She texted us a couple of minutes ago. She was already on her way."
Liam turned his head to look at Emma, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Elsa hadn't sent him any text at all. He had checked his phone just a minute before. It was the use of the word us that finally gave him the clue to identify what Emma meant.
Elsa had sent a text to the group chat, where Killian, Emma, Kristoff, and Anna were also included. And Liam had silenced the damn chat the day before. "I didn't notice," he muttered, looking away, suddenly interested in ordering the glasses in the compartment under the counter.
"You haven't read it." It wasn't a question, but rather an affirmation. Emma's voice denoted no reproach, but curiosity. Fortunately, a customer approached the bar to order a drink so, after giving Liam one last skeptical glance, Emma moved away from him so he could serve the drinks.
Liam had his reasons for silencing the chat.
Emma and Killian were the ones to blame, in fact. Accepting their feelings and acting on them hadn't changed their behavior. Liam felt grateful for it, truly, but since last Wednesday, Emma had practically settled in their apartment, which meant that he had become a witness to their constant public displays of affection everywhere. They had always been present between them after all, but now they had acquired a level far from innocent or casual.
On top of that, their banter and almost perpetual bickering were still intact. It was frankly exhausting, especially when their teasing was also transferred to the texts they exchanged in the group chat. When he read an argument between them about something as banal as what they would have for lunch the next day, he had enough.
Now he just had to deal with them in person. Constantly.
For the next few minutes, he became distracted by serving and chatting with customers, his gaze instinctively heading from time to time towards the entrance. Elsa still didn't appear, something that was beginning to cause some concern in him. Not because of the fact that something had happened to her, but rather because the ghost of insecurity threatened to appear. What if she had thought better? What if…
"Stop worrying, she's coming." Again Emma's voice startled him. What's wrong with me today? He was an almost forty-year-old adult, not a bloody teenager with his first crush, for God's sake. Emma must have noticed his unease, because she immediately added, "Can you accompany me to the back room? I need to grab something."
It was an obvious excuse, he could tell. His lips pressed together, drawing a grateful smile, while he nodded. After telling Robin to cover him for a few minutes, he walked with Emma to the back room, to —he supposed —have a little chat with some privacy in a much quieter place.
Emma started talking the moment the door closed behind them. "You know, these past few days have been a little crazy. We've barely had time to talk, and..." She paused for a moment, offering him a smile full of affection. "I wanted to tell you that I can't be happier for you and Elsa. You more than anyone deserve to be happy and I'm so glad you found each other."
A wave of affection for Emma washed over him, while a warm sensation ran through his veins up to his heart. "We're still in the beginning, lass, trying to figure out our relationship. But I'm happy, very happy."
"Good," she said before melting into a tight hug with him to which Liam responded with pleasure. The affection he had for Emma went beyond words. He loved her in the most fraternal form of the word, as if she were his little sister. No matter what happened between Emma and Killian in the future, she would always occupy a special place in his heart.
"I'm also very happy for you two, Emma," he muttered against her hair. "My brother is so damn lucky to have found someone like you. I couldn't have thought of someone more suitable for him. You are perfect for each other." In response, Emma tightened her hug, burying her face in his chest. "You are better together."
"I wanted to... thank you, for acting behind our backs, for pushing us together," Emma confessed with a trembling voice after separating from him a little. Liam noticed her watery eyes and a lonely tear sliding down her cheek. He brushed her skin delicately, wiping away the tear and earning an adorable smile on her part. "These last weeks have been amazing; not only because I've been able to spend more time with Killian, which has led me to accept my feelings definitively, but because I’ve spent so much time with both of you guys. I love to share experiences with you."
"Good, although I must say that your fights are a bit exhausting, honestly." Emma made a sound, half laughing half snorting, causing him to grin. "But I love you both anyway. Besides, I should be used to it, right?"
"I love you too. And yes, you better get used to it, because I don't think we're going to act differently any time soon. It's one of the things I like the best about your brother, how he challenges me and how he fights back."
"I suspect that Killian thinks the same about you."
"He better."
They broke up laughing in unison. It was a liberating laugh, which served to lighten the mood after the previous moment full of emotions. Once the laughs subsided, she gave him one last smile of affection and turned in the direction of the door. But she had barely walked a couple of steps when she approached him again.
"I'll tell you a secret," Emma whispered in his ear. "You are my second favorite person," she confessed and then placed a soft kiss on his cheek before separating again. "And you better hurry out, because I'm sure your current favorite person is already waiting for you." After winking at him, she finally left the room, leaving him with a feeling of bliss that he hoped would last for a long time. Emma was someone so special to him that he hoped to have her in his life forever. He suspected that wouldn't be a problem — if it depended on his brother.
Indeed, Elsa was already waiting, sitting on her usual stool, the one that seemed to have her name written on it. The feeling of contentment increased the moment his eyes fell on her beautiful face, the butterflies of his stomach flapping furiously while all his previous doubts dissipated as he contemplated the adorable smile she gave him when their eyes met.
He hurried to her and, without thinking, pressed his lips to hers in a brief kiss, one with the ability to shake him inside. He had already started to get used to that delicious sensation, something he hoped wouldn't fade with time since he had no intention of stopping kissing that woman.
"I can't believe it!" Ruby's unexpected voice beside him interrupted them momentarily. "What the hell happened in that cabin now that nobody seems to stop kissing?"
Although Ruby's voice denoted surprise and a bit of annoyance, her funny expression said something different. "You better get used to it, Rubes," he simply added, his lips drawing a wide grin.
Ruby rolled her eyes, but then offered a wolfish smile. "You should definitely change the name of the bar and use The Ship of Love instead, or something like that."
"You can always suggest it to Emma. After all, she is the advertising expert."
"I think I'll pass," Ruby replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. She wrinkled her nose and then her lips curled into a wicked grin. "She's very busy lately, eating your brother's face." Liam heard Elsa snorting while he himself couldn't stop a chuckle from bubbling in his throat. Ruby was right. "Anyway, I'm happy for you guys. Really." After offering them one last smile she left to attend a customer.
Once alone, he returned his attention to Elsa. "Hi," he greeted her, pressing a peck on her lips. "I missed you."
"Sorry I was late. I had a last-minute meeting. We're organizing a winter festival with the girls," she explained, offering him an apologetic smile.
His heart swelled with pride towards her. Her ice skating talent was undeniable, as was her ability to transmit her knowledge. The fact that she worked mostly with children only increased his admiration for her. "No need for apologies, love," he assured her, as he grabbed two glasses and placed them on the counter. "The usual, I take it?"
"I'm not sure. I'm still a VIP client?"
Before answering, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the counter and invading her personal space. "You can be sure, lass. You currently occupy the top. At least on my list." Liam secretly admired how her cheeks colored with a soft pink shade as she averted her gaze whenever he offered her some compliment. He had no intention of stopping any time soon, not only hoping to keep that reaction in her, but because the compliments seemed to flow naturally. He had definitely fallen hard for that incredible woman.
"Very much appreciated. That's one of the reasons why The Kraken has become my favorite bar, the customer treatment. Well, and also that the owner, or should I say the Captain, is quite handsome and charming."
This time it was his turn to blush while his heart made a small somersault. Gods ! It was as if he had traveled back in time and had become a teenager again. He resisted the urge to kiss her again — since he was the boss and was currently in his workplace, he should set an example for his employees — instead opting to offer her a smile of appreciation accompanied by a slight bow of his head. He then poured the liquid into the two glasses, offering one of them to her and holding the other in his raised hand.
"I want to make a toast because right now I feel like the luckiest man in the world. With you."
The gaze she gave him was so intense that it had the ability to melt the most frozen heart. "I think we have someone to blame about it, right?" Elsa suggested before putting the glass to her lips and then ingested the liquid in a gesture that was too distracting. After leaving the empty glass on the counter she looked at her watch and then looked up, her gaze wandering around as if she were looking for something. "Where are the two lovebirds, by the way?"
Liam also looked around, surprised not to see either of them, considering that Killian's performance was about to begin. He exchanged a look with Elsa as he shrugged and was going to offer to go look for them when he noticed that Elsa's expression changed as she directed her gaze to a spot above his shoulder.
He turned his head following the direction of her gaze, meeting Killian and Emma who looked like they had just left his office, since Killian was already carrying the guitar. They obviously had performed some other activity inside the room, though. At least if their flushed cheeks, Killian's disheveled hair and the flustered expression on both faces were an indication. Liam let out a huff while shaking his head. Those two were impossible.
"I guess they're making up for the lost time," Elsa offered through a soft smile as if reading his mind.
"So it seems. But I'm afraid they'll have to be apart at least for a while. I'll be right back. I'm gonna introduce Killian," he said with a wink before going to look for the two idiots in love.
//
The concert was proving to be a total success. Whatever happened in his office, it hadn't affected Killian at all. On the contrary, he seemed more inspired than ever, his presence on the stage more prominent, his smile more charming, his voice more powerful and tuned. There was something that hadn't changed, though. His attention was focused on a single person, someone who kept taking pictures of him as if he were the only person around her.
When Killian's solo performance was about to end, Liam came out from behind the bar, approaching Elsa and offering his hand. They walked through the crowd until they found Emma, who briefly hugged her friend before giving her the camera. The three of them turned their attention back to the stage, waiting for Emma's introduction by Killian.
"Thank you very much to everyone. You are the best audience one can dream of!" Killian shouted as he made a gesture of applause addressed to the public, which only increased the cheers towards him. "And now if you’ll allow me, the stellar moment of the night is about to start; the moment when someone very special to me will accompany me on stage." Killian then looked at Emma, the expression of pure devotion to her written all over his face. "I ask you to give the best applause you can to welcome my particular angel, the incredibly talented and beautiful Emma Swan!"
Liam watched as Killian approached the side of the stage where Emma would appear, holding out his hand to her when she arrived. They walked together to the center of the stage, both sporting the same expression of happiness. When they were in position, Emma nodded almost imperceptibly to his brother and then began to sing, without looking away from Killian.
Just a small town girl
Livin' in a lonely world
She took the midnight train goin' anywhere
Then it was Killian's turn. Liam would never have anticipated what happened next. After singing his first verse, Killian played the first chords with his guitar and then they merged into a passionate, brief, kiss right there in the middle of the stage, causing the entire audience to roar around them. These two know how to rile up the public, Liam thought as his lips tugged at a huge smile.
From there the magic continued on stage.
Liam stood behind Elsa, circling her shoulders with his arms while she rested her back on his chest, both watching in awe the huge talent both Killian and Emma had singing together. Liam couldn't be more proud of himself for being the one with the brilliant idea of pushing Emma that first time to accompany Killian on stage.
Don't stop believin'
Hold on to the feelin'
That verse couldn't be more appropriate, Liam thought as he tightened his embrace on Elsa. He would never stop believing that everything was possible. Their current situation was the best example, with his brother and Emma creating magic on stage and overflowing with happiness and love. With a vibrant Elsa in his arms, it offered him the sensation of holding his (their) own future. He would definitely never stop believing in them and the endless possibilities they had together.
The End - Fin
//
About the inspiration for the scene of the last performance, the movie is Rock Of Ages, and here's the video (spoilers! it's also the last scene in the movie, just in case):
youtube
Thank you so, so much.
These last few months have been quite complicated for me, so I have barely had time or energy to write, but I haven't given up, so I hope to be able to continue creating. Until then, it has been a pleasure. Stay safe, everyone.
#cs ff#captain swan#csrt#damn you for making me love you#cs au#captain swan rewrite a thon#mayquita writes#my cs writings#cs au ff
43 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! For the fanfic end of the year asks, 14, 18 and 19. Thanks! Happy weekend :)
thanks for playing, Tere! :)
14. a fic you didn’t expect to writeHmmm I feel like this is cheating a bit, because that fic was already written like two years ago... but I guess it still counts, as I posted it only this year, in February. It’s a threesome fic that was written as a birthday gift and never meant to be published, also because I wasn’t confident enough to do so. I surprised myself that I wanted to try if I could pull it off. But actually, I’m proud of it, and so after two years I mustered the courage. You’re very welcome to give it a try... it happens only in Emma’s dream, if the cheating aspect is what puts you off.
In My Wildest Dreams
18. current number of wipsFour, and I’m ashamed (and also a little nervous) to say that I haven’t started my csss fic yet...
19.any new fics to start next yearWell, for starters I want to continue and eventually finish said wips... that’s about all the planning I can do.
Send me a Fanfic end of the year ask!
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Christmas Crescents (and other sweet treats)
For @mayquita / @cssecretsanta2k18 Merry Christmas!
I’m not sure exactly what this is? It’s really just some baking gone wrong that turned into fluff without plot. Hope you enjoy! 🎄
Read on ao3: X
She had made a poor job of hiding the damage. In retrospect, maybe trying to cook for him wasn’t the best idea.
Killian had been working the night shifts at the hospital the past few days, and Emma had just wanted to do something special for him. It was Christmas Eve, after all.
Her idea was to make one of Killian's favorite desserts, but Emma was not a chef, in any sense of the word. The vanilla crescents would have been a nice gesture and all, if it weren’t for the fact that they were burnt to a crisp, and the smoke alarm was going off.
Just as she was climbing on the stepstool to find a way to turn off the damn thing, Emma heard Killian’s keys jangling and the squeaky door opening, all too soon (why hadn’t they fixed that yet?).
“Swan, what are you...” A moment of silence. “Oh”
Emma stepped off the stool, finally getting the alarm to stop chirping, and met his deep blue eyes.
“Yeah. I uh... I tried to cook your vanilla crescent recipe, I wanted to surprise you and make you happy, but then I left them in for too long and smoke started to come out of the oven, and the alarm started to go off, and now they look like burnt toast," she choked out, her chin wobbling.
Killian had been living with Emma for nearly two years now, and he had rarely seen her like this. No, Emma Swan kept her emotions reserved for herself and herself only, so Killian knew what was bothering her went beyond the crescents.
As Killian slowly walked towards Emma, the tears started to well up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. "Love, are you okay?"
And the dam broke.
"I had a whole night planned out, you were gonna get home and the crescents would be ready for you, and we would eat them together while some holly-jolly Christmas music was playing in the background, and I would have a perfect chance to tell you I love y...." Her words stopped abruptly. "The perfect chance to tell you I love your family, and we should definitely go visit them this Christmas."
Emma mentally slapped herself. What had she gotten herself into? She was definitely gonna need some spiked eggnog to get herself through a stay with his family. And maybe some tonight to get her through her feelings for him.
For a brief moment, Killian thought Emma would finally say the words that he had been waiting so long to hear. He was disappointed, but he quickly schooled his features so as not to show it. When Emma said those three words, it wouldn’t be because of any guilt, it would be because she wanted him.
“I was thinking maybe we could stay here and celebrate together this year?” Killian suggested tentatively, giving her a knowing yet reassuring smile. He knew she wasn’t too fond of his parents (and vice versa, to be honest), and he would never force that on her knowing she needed more time.
“Yeah... yeah that sounds good.” Emma started towards the living room, but then turned around to face Killian again. “I'm gonna go see what’s on Netflix, care to join?”
Killian gave her a nod and followed after her into the living area. Emma sat down on the end of the sofa, and Killian followed suit, playfully touching his (quite frigid) foot against her leg to get her attention.
"Swan, i'm cold, care to give me a cuddle?"
Emma hesitated, afraid of reading too much into his question and getting too attached. But Killian had always kept his promises, and was a man of his word. He wouldn't ask this of her unless he felt the same way too, at least she hoped not. So she leaned into the wave, gave into the temptation and shuffled back into his (oh so cold, why was this man always so cold?) arms, tucking her head under his chin.
The room was silent for a moment, Emma scrolling through the Christmas selection of movies, trying to decide on one for the night. Killian shifted above her, reaching for the plaid blanket that had been previously folded neatly against the back of the couch, draping it over the two of them.
"Swan?" Killian tried softly, not quite sure if she was in the mood for talking right now. Although he was disappointed and frustrated that she couldn't quite say those words yet, he also knew Emma needed time. After all, if anyone knew about lasting scars, it's him.
"Hmm?" Emma's reply jerked him out of his thoughts.
Killian hesitated a moment, not wanting to scare her away, yet wanting to let her know that he felt the same way. Deciding on the latter, he took the plunge.
"I love you too, Emma."
(In case you were wondering, they never decided on a movie, each too caught up in the other to fuss about that).
22 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi, for the fanfiction ask game, I, K and L, thanks :)
Hi @mayquita! Thanks so much for the asks! Hope you find these answers interesting… :)
I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?
One of my guilty pleasures in fic (to read) would be coffee shop or bookstore meet-cutes. In real life, I’d love to have a sweet “this is how we met story” so I always get a kick out of my favorite characters meeting in a place I would like to meet someone. I am also DEFINITELY a sucker for Lt. Duckling stories set in the Enchanted Forest, where Emma got to be raised by her parents as a princess and Killian is a devoted young lieutenant in her father’s Navy.
K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?
The angstiest idea I’ve come up with is one that I still intend to write but is as of yet only in the planning stages, so I’m not going to get too detailed. However, it will be a modern, no magic AU MC. Emma and Killian are best friends living in Boston, both perhaps a little in love with the other but haven’t really become aware of it yet. Then Emma learns she has terminal cancer… She doesn’t know how to deal with it herself, and she needs Killian’s support, but she dreads telling him, knows he’ll be even more devastated than she is (possible he lost his mum to cancer as well when he was young??)
(I know it really doesn’t sound like a fun read, but the idea won’t leave me either.)
L: What’s the weirdest AU you’ve ever come up with?
I don’t know that it’s so terribly weird, but it’s not something I’ve seen done a lot for OuaT in fic, and I really think it would be answer. I want to write a CS (and other various OuaT characters too) western AU. (I’m secretly hoping Colin’s role in the Dolly Parton Netflix series may make some more westerns appear ;)
I actually have several pages of a Rio Bravo-esque fic started in a notebook somewhere. If only there were as many hours in the day as there are ideas in my head for fic writing!!
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
A/N: So, I found this in my drafts that I only wrote a few hundred words for, and when I read over it, I was like, "Wait, what happens next?" I honestly don't remember where this was going or if I even knew where at the time I wrote it. And lately, I've been in a writing slump because I took some vacation time from work and wrote every day, then ever since I went back to work, I haven't been able to write anything. Not for my original story or any of my cs wips. NOTHING! So instead I made the picset above to show where this story will go.
Killian Jones has seen all types of people step inside his flower shop since he opened it five years ago, but the day Emma Swan stormed into his life with a fire unlike any other person he's known, is one he will never forget.
“How do I passively aggressively say fuck you in a flower?” she huffs out with not so much as a smile as she slams some cash down on the counter in front of him. She’s out of breath and her long, blonde hair is disheveled like she just sprinted across Storybrooke to get here.
“Hmm.” Arching a brow with subtle amusement in his smile, Killian scratches behind his ear as he mulls over her question. “You know, most people ask about flowers for anniversaries or special occasions…”
“Yeah, well, I bet most of those people haven’t been fucked over by their exes and then were invited to the wedding of their cheating ex and the person he cheated on them with.”
“Ah, I see,” he says, trying to sound as casual as possible; he too knows what it feels like to be fucked over by an ex. “And you want to give this ex of yours flowers for his wedding?”
She sighs with impatience, and it’s such a shame those lovely green eyes hold so much pain and anger. “No, I want to send him flowers as a way of telling him to fuck off for inviting me. I want something pretty but deadly, something that says I don’t want to have anything to do with you ever again. I have to get to work soon, so if you could help me out instead of questioning me, that would be great.”
Killian nods and runs a hand over his stubbled chin. “Well, there are orange lilies to express your hatred for this person, there are horseshoe geraniums for stupidity, yellow carnations for rejection, or to say you’ve disappointed me.” The woman seems intrigued by the suggestions, so he continues until something finally sparks in her dazzling green eyes. “Petunias symbolize resentment and anger, and aconite means hatred or be cautious. And of course, there’s always the black rose which symbolizes death.”
The last suggestion has her arching a brow. After a few seconds of thinking it over, she nods. “I'll take two dozen black roses.”
If you would like to be tagged or untagged, please let me know
@onceuponaprincessworld @teamhook @artistic-writer @ilovemesomekillianjones @hollyethecurious @gingerchangeling @ultraluckycatnd @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @snowbellewells @let-it-raines @wellhellotragic @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @sophiaaz @becausetheyrehappythisway @thislassishooked @hookedmom @resident-of-storybrooke @kateroselin @chamomileandmint @kday426 @sals86 @lawgeeks @yasbio2015 @xsajx @delightfully-difficult-pirate @wanderingjpg @squidvisious @tenaciouskittynight @biefaless @animatedshorts @lassluna @ejunkiet @melsbels @meat-pie-with-sauce @roseyflush @ivalane @tiganasummertree @nowforruin @qualitycoffeethings @nikkiemms @oncechicagolove @theonewiththeory @lostinwonderland314 @darkcolinodonorgasm @arshini01 @companion-mala @carpedzem @youareafeverdream @maguilar1028 @mayquita @courtorderedcake @shady-swan-jones @timeless-love-story @laschatzi @officerrogers @spartanguard @andiirivera @ouatpost @jarienn972 @winterbythesea @winterbaby89 @distant-rose @xhookswenchx
#cs ff#captain swan#flower shop au#emma takes killian as her date to neal and tamara's wedding#cs graphic#florist killian#hannah writes#kind of
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
everybody knows -- CH1
SUMMARY : In Killian's world there are neither heroes nor villains.
There are only those who give and those who take, and you better not be the former.
He's a taker, has spent his entire life being a taker, because if you're a taker, there is never a price to pay.
Until there is.
AKA: The paths towards love and the meaning of life are twisted and tangled and full of detours, and some of those roads aren't paved.
.
AO3
.
A/N: Oh, my dears - here we go again.
i have never worked so hard for a first chapter, ever. Or any chapter, really. The problem with writing about a con is that what you reveal when and how becomes incredibly important. So much setup! So much dialogue! And plot boas galore right out of the gate -- it’s just unfairly hard! Who ever thought of this bright idea? (Yes, i know, i’m yelling at myself, but i’m having a righteous rant moment, leave me be. 😂)
Anyway.
Eternal thanks to @profdanglaisstuff for making me kill my darlings and slash and rewrite nearly 3K words. She was right to do so, and you should all thank her, because without her there would be no story. None.
To @ohmightydevviepuu for making me go over every square inch of my premise, and making me think and re-think and re-think again until i had a handle on it.
Thank you both so much for forcing me to live up to my potential. Or at least fail upwards to the level of my incompetence. 😂💕😘
And to @anxioussquirrel, @killianjones-twopointoh, and @katie-dub for filling my life with joy. 💖💖💖
.
.
i’m using the regular tag list, i hope that’s OK. Please let me know if you want to be added or removed.
@mariakov81 @stahlop @thejollyroger-writer @snowbellewells @captainsjedi @toomanyfandomstochoosefrom @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @mayquita @ohmightydevviepuu @sals86 @karenfrommisthaven @kmomof4 @kday426 @superchocovian @jennjenn615 @facesiousbutton82 @suwya @spartanguard @capnjay21 @shardminds @carpedzem @girl-in-a-tiny-box @ilovemesomekillianjones @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @teamhook @katie-dub @shireness-says @qualitycoffeethings @cluttermind @fragilebeautifulchaos @optomisticgirl @klynn-stormz @winterbaby89 @ethereal-madnesss @scientificapricot @fragilebeautifulchaos @anxioussquirrel @killianjones-twopointoh @captain-emmajones
.
.
.
PART I
Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.
-- Oscar Wilde --
.
.
CHAPTER 1
“I’ve got your next mark.”
Neal leans back in his office chair and tilts his head at Killian.
The way Neal occupies space is reminiscent of bad 80s primetime soaps. There is something desperately oligarch-esque about the way he reclines, puts his left boot on his desk, and hands Killian a manila envelope.
It’s painfully suave. Especially in this office, full of beaten-up furniture from a long-ago heyday, and ancient neon overheads that flicker more than shine.
Killian sits down and takes the envelope. “Who is it?”
Neal’s eyes narrow. “Society girl with her hands on a vast fortune.”
Killian pulls out the file and his brow furrows. “Fortune? It doesn’t look like she’s worth anything.”
He looks up. Neal is scowling -- unusual for a man who prides himself on his indifference, especially when it comes to business matters.
But when he answers, his voice is devoid of inflection. “She’s just slumming, trying to make it in the real world without her parents’ money. But look at her last name.” He pauses to let Killian scan the first page again, and then says, “In reality she’s the heir to The Archer Group.”
Killian whistles sharply. “Archer Holdings? Archer Enterprises? Archer Real Estate? That Archer Group?”
Neal smiles darkly. “The very same. We can fleece her hard.”
“You know my rules.”
Neal scoffs. “Yes, Killian. I know your ‘rules’. But no matter how much we take from her, her daddy has much, much more. He will bail her out. This time we take it all.”
Killian frowns and holds up a printout. “This bank statement says she has 498 bucks in her checking account. What exactly do you want to take her for?”
Neal smiles again, even darker this time. “I have it on very good authority that she has a savings account with a million dollars in it. Starting-out money from her parents. She’s just not touching it. So I say we take every last penny.”
Killian leans forward, his eyes hard, and slowly shakes his head.
Neal exhales in a huff. “Which part of ‘her father will just give her more’ do you not understand?”
It is in those moments that Killian realizes how much he hates Neal. And how much he wishes he had never entered this partnership.
Well.
Entered is not the right word -- it implies free will. Coercion had been the name of the game, but then again, Killian had gotten into that situation all by himself. The kind of situation where saying ‘no’ was no longer an option, and now he is stuck with Neal.
Killian sighs, but stays quiet.
Neal stares back for a long time, before his lips widen in a smirk.
“I’ll void your contract,” he says. “Do this job and you can go back to conning cougars.” He leans forward. “Cougars anywhere but this state, you understand?”
And there it is.
Temptation.
Killian sighs. Sighs and closes his eyes and resigns himself to the fact that when the very thing you’ve wanted for years, years , is finally within reach, the word ‘principles’ is just that.
A word.
Neal is dangling freedom on a hook, and Killian can’t resist the bait, line and sinker be damned. Principles, it turns out, aren’t worth much.
Not much at all.
“Fine,” Killian says. “Let’s take her for everything she’s got.”
Neal smiles a smile of pure satisfaction and Killian feels as dirty as he ever has. He gets up.
“I need something more than a promise, Neal,” he says. “I do this and I’m out. I need a guarantee.”
“My word isn’t good enough?”
“You’re a con artist. Of course it isn’t.”
Neal’s eyes narrow. “So are you. You run the best long con in the tri-state area and I take you at your word.”
Killian raises his eyebrows and doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. Killian has rules and Neal does not. Everybody knows this.
And cons are certainly not Neal’s only enterprise. He has his dirty fingers in a lot of dirty pies. Rumor has it his father runs the East Coast Mob from Atlantic City to Boston, which is how one Neal Cassidy has ended up with enough clout to coerce Killian into this ‘partnership’. That, and a few spectacularly bad decisions Killian made in at least three casinos. All of which had to do with him doubling down when he should have walked away.
But he’s not losing this staring contest.
“All right,” Neal says, and scribbles something on a piece of paper. “Here,” he hands Killian the paper after he signs it. It says,
After the completion of the Archer Group heiress con, Killian Jones is released from his obligation to me.
-- Neal Cassidy
“Good enough?”
Killian nods, staring at the note. At the potential it implies.
“What are you staring at?” Neal sounds impatient. “Still not satisfied?”
Killian knows that Neal’s impatience is about to turn into anger, and he does not want to be here for that. The man has thinner skin than a white-guilt socialite.
“Simply admiring your penmanship,” he smirks, and just like that, Neal grins.
“Get out of here,” he says and Killian nods and gets up.
When he walks out, Killian sees that now the warped office door is guarded by two heavy bouncers -- both of them pure muscle, no brains. In the lobby two nervous men in ill-fitting suits sit on a dilapidated pleather sofa, waiting to be called on. They look sweaty and nervous and like they can’t pay whatever vig they owe.
Killian leaves swiftly without looking back.
-/-
Killian takes his time with the recon. He cannot screw this up.
He doesn’t assume for a moment that Neal’s note is worth the paper it’s written on -- Neal is a scumbag and a liar and he bends the world to his will, backed by the rumor of his father’s might. He might as well have handed Killian a lollipop.
But.
The note might mean something to Neal’s father.
Killian knows very little about the mysterious Mr. Gold, but a handwritten piece of paper, a handwritten signed piece of paper, may just be old-school enough for him. So he puts it in his safe-deposit box and hopes for the best.
Then he starts his recon and hits a snag right out of the gate.
The heiress works for a private investigator. It’s a small outfit, just two PIs, dealing mostly with cheating spouses and alimony issues. It looks like she runs the office and the clerical side of things - paperwork and bills, mostly. She does not have a PI license. As a matter of fact, she’s not really certified for anything, not even accounting.
There’s a puzzling and worrisome lack of information on her background and schooling.
If she’s an heiress, even one who’s determined to make it on her own, there should be evidence of an expensive education. But her school records are a diploma from William Cullen Bryant Public High School in Astoria and two semesters from Queens College in Flushing. Who fakes community college dropout records when they most likely have an Ivy League degree at their back?
What kind of heiress works for ten years doing clerical odd jobs? There are a few freelance fact-checking gigs on her resumé, mostly for the ghostwritten autobiographies of mid-level entrepreneurs who fancy themselves tycoons, but the secretarial far outweighs anything else. Her career, if it can be called such, has ‘front office’ written all over it and that is alarmingly puzzling.
Is she shunning her upbringing or trying to actually disappear? Because there’s ‘making it on your own’ and there is ‘stuck in a dead end for a decade’ and she is doing the latter. There has to be a very good reason for that, for the fact that she doesn’t just call home and have herself rescued.
There is also an absolute lack of relationships. Of any kind. He can’t find a shred of a lasting connection between her and anyone. Her entire life is saying Keep Out and he shouldn’t be doing any of this.
She is a hard mark.
But also the most lucrative he’s ever gone after, if Neal is right about that savings account.
With a sigh Killian thinks of his freedom, thinks of no longer being beholden to a psychopath, and pours himself a generous shot of rum. Then he digs into the lives of the parents, the Archer Group CEO and her husband.
There is an abundance of information on their charitable works and their environmental initiatives, markedly less on their various ventures and companies and virtually nothing on their private lives.
Their private lives are actually private.
They do not travel society. They don’t run the circuit, don’t attend ten-thousand-dollar-plate fundraisers, don’t rub shoulders with the glitterati, don’t walk down red carpets, don’t shake hands with the famous. They don’t summer in the Hamptons, don’t winter in St Moritz. Their main residence is a roof-terrace condo bordering Central Park and an old newspaper clipping mentions property not far from Aix-en-Provence, but that is all. All other candids and society page mentions are from before they were married, more than 30 years ago.
They do have a child. It is not mentioned by name anywhere. As a matter of fact, there is no information on it at all, none, neither gender nor age nor name, no matter how deep he digs.
He foregoes the shot glass, takes the next two pulls straight from the bottle, and stares at the wall for a long, long time.
-/-
The bar is crowded and dark and the music is loud and Emma’s date doesn’t show. Which is just as well. She’s mostly here because Ruby threatened to start setting her up with every guy in her building if she ‘didn’t get back out there’, and Emma cannot think of a single thing more humiliating than being set up on blind dates by your boss. So she went on the first dating app she could find and now she’s stuck at this bar, waiting for someone who is never going to show.
Then again, the music isn’t bad and the beer is on tap and cheap for the Village, and she’s not stuck in her apartment. And she doesn’t have to talk - she can just enjoy being out for a change.
She smiles to herself, turns to the bartender, and orders another.
Two hours later the bar has emptied considerably and Emma is feeling weightless. She gets in one last order under the last call wire as someone pulls up a stool on the far side of the bar and orders a shot of rum and a beer. The bartender rolls his eyes and complies with a stern warning that this “has to be the last order” and the man nods and smiles and then turns to Emma.
“You get stood up, too?” His vowels stretch a little wider than normal, but he’s not slurring his speech.
Emma nods. She’s too tired to lie and she has never cared about saving face. Besides, she had a night out. With beer.
“Yep,” she says, pleased her own speech is not diminished in the least.
The man raises his glass. “Fuck ‘em,” he says. “They don’t know what they’re missing.”
Emma nods again and drinks to that.
The man moves to the bar stool next to her and Emma feels a small spike of worry, but his gaze doesn’t linger near her breasts or anywhere else it doesn’t belong, including her face.
Instead he smiles, takes another sip, and says, “It doesn’t really matter anyway. Blind date, you know the drill.” He looks around. “It’s not a bad bar though. To be stuck in, I mean.”
“Yeah.” Emma says. “It’s my first time here, but I kind of liked it.”
“Same here.” He smiles again, open and honest and offers her his hand.
“I’m Killian,” he says.
“Emma,” she replies. His handshake is nice and very firm. You can tell a lot about a person from their handshake.
“Excuse me for a minute,” she adds, and starts to make her way towards the bathrooms. It’s a thing she does, whenever she meets anyone new. Let them wait a few minutes, see if they stay or move on.
Many, many men move on. It’s good to weed those out right at the top.
When she comes back from behind a door that says WE DON’T CARE, JUST WASH YOUR HANDS he’s still there, calmly sipping his beer like it’s not ten minutes till closing, and then looks at her and shrugs.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
She looks up, surprised.
“I’m starving,” he adds.
She can’t help but laugh. “Seriously?”
“What?”
She rolls her eyes. He’s a piece of work for sure, but he hasn’t looked at her breasts once. “Is that how you do it? Go to a bar to meet one girl and when she doesn’t show you just pick up a substitute?”
He grins. “I don’t know. It’s the first time I’ve tried it.”
Emma shakes her head. “I bet it is.”
“Look,” he says. “I’ve had a crappy night and a lot of beer and now I really need some food. The greasier the better. There’s a diner down the street.” He gets up from the bar stool. “I’d love some company, but I understand if that’s not your thing.” His eyes narrow. “You look rather like a person who prefers to be alone.”
That trips her up. Because it’s very, very true.
She sighs. “Do you think they have grilled cheese?”
He chuckles. “If they don’t, we’ll sue them. For taking the name ‘diner’ in vain.”
She pulls on her jacket. “In that case, yes. I’m starving. But don’t get any ideas.”
“Ideas?”
“Ideas.” She slides off the barstool, steadies herself for a brief moment. “Yes, we both got stood up, but this is not a date. Are we clear?”
He gives her a very serious nod and says, “Crystal.” and she can’t help but laugh.
-/-
“So where are you from?” Emma pulls her grilled cheese halves apart slowly and looks up to find him watching her with a small grin on his face. “I love cheese,” she clarifies.
“Clearly,” he says, and his grin widens. “Bournemouth.”
“Uh, what?”
He laughs. “You asked where I’m from. The answer is Bournemouth.”
“Huh,” she says, and takes a bite. God it’s so good . Her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. But she cannot place Bournemouth. “Where’s that?”
He leans across the table, picks up the ketchup. “South of England. On the coast.”
England. England? But---
“You don’t have an accent,” she says.
“Accents don’t stay.” He holds the ketchup out to her, but she waves him away. As if she would ruin her lovely onion rings with that. “We moved here when I was 13. I lost my accent years ago.”
“Huh,” she says again. Apparently she’s a sparkling conversationalist tonight. “I never would have guessed.”
“Yeah,” he says, and pulls a face as he tries a fry. “Expressions stay though.”
“Expressions?”
He smiles. “I am rather fond of the words ‘love’ and ‘bloody’.”
It’s self-deprecating, the way he says it, with a playfully raised eyebrow. Whatever he’s doing, he’s not aggressively trying to flirt his way into her pants. He’s entirely too good-looking and he definitely knows it, but for the moment he seems to be content to simply have a conversation. Emma appreciates that, no matter his intentions. She hasn’t had a real conversation with a person who wasn’t Ruby in forever. And she can always shoot him down later, if he does decide to advance.
“Love and bloody. What an odd combination,” she says. “Why those two?”
“ Love is what my mum called everyone.” His smile turns wistful. “Everyone.” He clears his throat and then grins. “And bloody is sometimes just better than going fuck all the time. Although I must admire the word fuck for its versatility.”
“I know.” She laughs out loud. “I had a foster father who once used it in every part of a sentence. He said, “‘Fuck - this fucking fucker’s fucking fucked!” Which meant, ‘damn, the lawnmower is badly broken. I am not pleased.’”
He doesn’t laugh. He starts to, and then his face falls and gets very, very serious and a small warning light goes off in Emma’s head. This looks like baggage, and she’s not here for other people’s baggage. Not sitting in a diner at 2 AM with a perfect stranger at any rate.
“Not as funny as I thought, I guess,” she says, trying to gauge whether to cut bait, and he shakes his head.
“Sorry,” he says, and his hand comes up to scratch behind his right ear. “It was funny. You’re funny.” And he gives an odd look as he says, “I just--- did you say foster father? Were you in the system?”
“Yeah.” She shrugs. Noncommittal.
He looks exceedingly puzzled. Like he’s never met a system kid before. Or maybe like---
“Do you have experience with--- that?” It’s out before she can stop herself.
He looks at her for a long, long moment before he sighs and says, “Yeah.” He shrugs. “I have lots of experience with that.” His voice is quiet. “None of it good.”
It could be a game. It could all be for the sake of making a connection with her, if not for two things:
Nobody in their right mind would work this hard for a hookup. Like there aren’t a thousand girls spilling drunk and high out of hundreds of clubs all over the city right now, ready to be plucked.
And also, he’s telling the truth. She knows about lies. This is not one.
“I see,” she says, just as quietly. “I guess it takes one to know one.”
He lets that sentence hang in the air, thousand-yard-stare in his eyes, and she pushes her plate at him. He raises a questioning eyebrow and she grins.
“You’ve been staring at my onion rings since we got here,” she says. “And eaten none of your fries. I can put two and two together.” She points at the plate. “Help yourself.”
This time his laugh is helpless. “Do you want the fries in return?”
“After the face you pulled when you tried the first one? Not on your life,” she grins, and his eyes flash. Then he takes an onion ring with the air of a general who’s surrendered the battlefield as she waits for the waitress to refill her coffee.
“So,” she says as she picks up her mug. “Who were you really waiting for at that bar?”
“What do you mean?”
She leans forward. “There is no way---” her eyes narrow--- “no way a guy that looks like you was waiting for a date. Or got stood up.”
He grins. It’s ridiculously obnoxious. “Are you saying I’m handsome?”
“Oh please .” She gives him a full body eyeroll. “You know exactly what you look like. And you know how to use it, too. Your charm’s so polished I can see my reflection in it.”
“Touché.” He laughs. “But I can still get stood up. I mean - you’re gorgeous and you got stood up.”
Oh no you don’t. You don’t slip a compliment between the lines just to change the subject.
“But you didn’t, did you.” She can feel that there is more to his story, a lot more. “Why were you at that bar?”
“Fine.” He sighs. “I wasn’t waiting for a date.”
“I knew it,” Emma says.
He gives her a long, measured look. Then he takes a deep breath and says, “I was waiting for a mark.”
“A mark?” She finally says. “Like-- ” Her voice trails off.
“Like a con man, yes,” Killian answers.
“You’re a con man.” He shrugs, and she sputters. “ You’re. A con man .”
He laughs. “Yes.”
Now that’s just ridiculous. It’s the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard.
“That’s insane.” She shakes her head. “I thought those only existed on bad TV shows. Or my email spam folder.”
Again with that damn eyebrow. “I’m quite real.”
“I can see that.” It’s still the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard. Also the most creative. No one has ever used a line like that on her.
“I can see you don’t believe me.”
Why isn’t he laughing? He should be laughing. She should be laughing.
Emma frowns instead. “You cannot possibly be serious.”
“And why not?”
A hundred thousand reasons, starting with, this is the most ridiculous thing ever. But most of all--
“You’d never tell me. Why on earth would you tell a perfect stranger? Over onion rings and coffee?”
There’s a pause, a very long pause, and then he says, “ Because you’re a stranger, of course.”
God dammit . It’s the truth, all of it, so far he hasn’t lied to her once, and fuck. Fuck . What the hell is going on and what the fuck is she still doing here?
He leans forward, slowly, and his face is thoughtful.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I can see this is a bit much, and I apologize. It’s just--- you’re a person in a diner. You’re lovely company, don’t get me wrong, but you’re inconsequential. I can spend a few wonderful hours with you and then walk out of here and never see you again.” He lifts up both hands in supplication. “My line of work does not lend itself to forming attachments or having confidantes. Sometimes it’s nice to just have a normal conversation. You know-- one where you’re not trying to achieve a certain outcome.”
Emma laughs. “ Achieve a certain outcome? You mean, one where you’re not actively playing someone?”
“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds----”
“Like the truth?”
This time he laughs, and it’s genuine and self-deprecating and warm . “Yeah. I guess it is.”
“OK,” Emma finally says when they’re done rolling their eyes at each other. “In that case, tell me all about yourself.”
“That I cannot do, love,” he says, and the word love sounds odd and foreign to her ears. “To keep my true identity hidden is paramount, you understand.” The way he wiggles his eyebrows should be illegal.
“How very secret agent of you,” she says, and his eyes flash in amusement.
“Well, I am a criminal. You can see how I’d want not to advertise said fact.”
It’s surreal, all of it.
“How do you know I won’t call the police right now and have you arrested?”
His hand flies to his heart in mock despair. “You wound me, Emma. You would do this to a man who’s just trying to have a bit of conversation?”
She shrugs and he laughs again.
“Oh, you’re what my father would have called a tough lass for sure . ” His eyes shine. “But I don’t think you could have me arrested. I haven’t done anything.” That eyebrow. Again . “Well, not anything in your presence to witness.”
“Damn,” Emma says. “There’s a flaw in every perfect plan, isn’t there.”
Killian’s eyes turn unexpectedly serious for a moment as he nods. “There certainly is.”
“So tell me something else. Anything else. About being a con man.”
“Well,” he says. “Everyone does it differently. There are hundreds of cons and hundreds of ways to run each one. But the hard and fast rule for citizens is that you should never give money to a stranger.”
“Do people really give money to strangers?”
He exhales, slowly. “You’d be surprised. As jaded and callous as people think they are, most of them are soft-hearted in the end. All you need to do is give them a good reason and they’ll practically throw their fortune your way. When really, you should never give anyone your money. Least of all a recent acquaintance. You at least have to know the person since grade school.” He shrugs. “If people followed this one simple rule, I’d be out of a job.”
Emma chuckles.
“What?”
She grins unrepentantly. “The way you describe your work as a ‘job’. Like it’s a legit way to make a living.”
“Screw legit,” he says. “Some people have too much money and I liberate a bit of it. If I took Jeff Bezos for a hundred billion dollars, a hundred BILLION , he’d still have a hundred billion left. That’s a one with eleven zeroes. Eleven . You and I and everyone else on this planet, including Jeff himself, by the way, cannot picture that amount of money. Nobody should have that much money.” His eyes grow hard. “There are 195 countries in the world and more than half of those have a GDP of less than that. And they’re by no means just ‘poor countries’ on continents nobody cares about. Some of them are in Europe. Some of them are Portugal . Imagine that.”
“Oh. So you’re Robin Hood.” Her tone is snide. His sudden intensity is true in its indignation, but false in its compassion, she can feel it. “Did you rehearse that speech much?”
He bursts a laugh.
“You’re right,” he says. “I’m certainly no Robin Hood. I steal from the rich. Those who can afford it. Those who have so much money that they hardly feel it when I take some. But I do keep it for myself, that’s true.”
A yawn suddenly overtakes Emma and she realizes that it is late. Very late. It’s past 3AM, her coffee and her food are gone, and she’s having a conversation about wealth distribution with a self-proclaimed con man. She’s tired, and she’s had enough absurdity for one night, entertaining though it was.
He smiles at her. “Sleepy?”
“Yeah.” She nods. “I will say that this has been a very interesting evening. Unbelievable , actually.” She waves at the waitress, mouths the words, “Check, please.” and turns back to the man across from her. “But I really have to go home now. I can hear my bed calling me from all the way across town.”
The last sentence is a test. But he makes neither joke nor innuendo, and his eyes never leave her face.
“Will you be all right to get home? Can I get you a cab?”
A cab ? What decade is he from?
“I don’t use private ride companies that subcontract and exploit their workers.” His face is dead serious, and it’s simply too much for Emma. She starts to laugh and finds herself unable to stop.
This is the most bizarre evening she can ever recall spending. With anyone . And that includes being stuck in a New Jersey holding cell with a self-proclaimed reincarnation of Nikola Tesla who lectured her on quantum harmonics for more than two hours.
She has to wipe her eyes as she tries to calm down, and protests as Killian simply pays for them both, but he waves his hand at her.
“I had a really good time with you,” he says. “The least I can do is pay for our meal. Especially since I ate half of yours.”
Emma erupts in a fresh burst of laughter and realizes that she is skirting hysteria. Fatigue and surreality and a witty deadpan delivery are doing her in, but Killian doesn’t seem put off by any of it. He hands her fresh napkins to dry her eyes and somehow organizes a glass of water without getting up, and just waits for her to rein herself in.
“Sorry,” she says, when she finally manages to calm down.
“Don’t be sorry,” he says. “You have a nice laugh.”
She fixes him with a glare, but he holds up his hands again.
“Objectively speaking,” he says. “I am not hitting on you, I swear.” He gets out of the booth and hands her her jacket. “I’m just trying to make sure you get home OK, that’s all.”
They go outside and he studies her gait, but she’s pretty much sober by now and he nods.
“I guess you’ll be all right,” he says, and she raises her arm, but the cab she’s trying to hail blows straight past her.
“I’ll be fine,” she says, squinting down the avenue for another one.
“I believe you,” he answers, and they both watch the next cab pull up to the curb.
He opens the door, waits until she gets in, and then leans forward.
“Actually,” he says, and she thinks, here it comes . But he makes absolutely no move to get into the cab with her. Instead he hands her a small white card.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m not trying to get in your pants, I promise. But I would like to ask you a favor.”
-/-
37 minutes later Emma falls into bed, her pajamas inside out, her makeup barely cleaned off, and her curtains still open, which will prove unfortunate right around sunrise. But it’s not yet sunrise. It is almost four o’clock in the morning and Emma is fast asleep.
On her nightstand lies a small white card.
-/-
The text from Neal comes in at 3:59AM, just as Killian is turning off the lights.
Is it done?
Killian sighs and picks up his phone and types two words.
It’s done.
.
.
.
THANK YOU ALL FOR READING!
#cs fic#cs fic rec#thisonesatellite#everybody knows#fun and heartbreak and angst#and a massive happy end#but kids#they're going to go through some stuff before they get the HEA
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
Walking the Baseline (1/1)
He’s at the top of his game. She’s in the midst of a comeback. The Olympics are just around the corner, and there’s more than gold medals on the line. There’s secrets and personal lives and a lot more at risk than simply losing, but as most know, Killian Jones and Emma Swan hate to lose.
rating: mature (just to err on the safe side)
a/n: Hello, hello, my darlings! I was informed of the @captainswanolympics as I’ve missed so much in my time of only checking messages and posting YWUSS, and I just had to write a tennis AU. If you know me, you know I played tennis back in the day, worked behind the scenes for a professional tennis tournament, and am an avid fan, so the fact that I haven’t written more CS tennis is surprising. lol.
This one is short and sweet, and it’s the first CS I’ve written in months. So I genuinely hope you enjoy it. And no, you don’t have to know tennis to understand 🎾
ao3: | here |
tag list: @qualitycoffeethings @mrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @sherifemma @galaxyzxstark @galadriel26 @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @nikkiemms @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo
-/-
“My legs feel like jelly,” Emma sighs as she sinks into an ice bath. It’s never pleasant, and it may not even help, but it makes her feel better every time. “Like, I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk when I get out of here. I don’t think I can even stand now.”
“You say that after every long match,” David tells her, clicking away at his iPad. There’s no doubt he’s studying her stats and about to pick her apart in a friendly yet incredibly harsh way that is a David trademark. “Is your shoulder okay? Your first serve percentage was up, but your speed was down.”
Yep. He’s so predictable. She knew that was coming the moment she decided to change the speed on her serves.
“I’m fine. I’m tired. I mean, shit, David. It’s like the tour is trying to ruin our bodies. My last two-week break was when? March? It’s almost August, and it’s not going to stop there.”
“You’ve made it before. You can do it again.”
“That’s not encouraging.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me that I don’t have to do this.”
David looks up from his iPad, brow raised, and she knows she’s not going to get the answer she wants. He doesn’t tell her she can quit unless they’re in a heated argument after disagreeing on her service motion or her footwork, which will always be her downfall when she’s exhausted, or any other aspect of her game. That’s what happens when your coach is not only your couch but also your older brother.
“I’m not going to say that. You’re in the quarterfinals. You play against Svitolina, who you have an excellent record against, and then in the semis, it could go either way with French or Stephens. That’s who we’re worried about. We’re not thinking about the finals until we’re in the finals.”
“I’m not thinking about just the finals. I’m thinking about the fact that I played Madrid, Rome, Roland Garros, Eastbourne, Wimbledon, Washington, here. And now I’m supposed to fly to Rio for the Olympics, then fly to Cincinnati, and then New York. And after New York, we almost immediately fly to Beijing, and it doesn’t stop. I get, what? A month and a half off, but it’s not really off time because we spend that time fixing everything for next season. The only way I get a break is if I lose or I get injured, and I don’t want either of those things.”
Emma’s chest heaves as she finishes speaking, the words flying out faster than her mind can come up with them as she runs through her tournament schedule, and David doesn’t blink. He stares at her like he always does, and sometimes she swears it’s like staring at a male version of herself. And she knows what’s coming. She always does. David never got to play past college, the professional circuit too much for his body, and he always pulls the card of how much he would give to be playing right now, to be in her position. She gets it. If she was in his position, she would do the same thing, but right now, all she really wants is to cry.
“You have worked too hard to quit, Emma,” David sighs, giving her a patented big-brother condescending stare. “You are not going to quit. I know this part of the season is rough, but you push through it every year. And imagine how good it’s going to feel when you have a gold medal around your neck or when you have that US Open trophy in your hands. You don’t get to play forever, and you’re the one who said that you weren’t quitting when everyone would have easily expected it. Do you want to prove them right?”
Emma moves in the bath, sinking a little lower, and damn, her sports bra is going to be impossible to get off. Her gaze shifts from David to the TV where ESPN commentators are sitting at a desk, her Nike-approved picture on the screen beside them. They run through the stats of her match and then her overall career stats. She’s twenty-eight, which is apparently at the end of her career according to them, world number seven, which is also abysmal to them somehow, and she is not living up to her potential when she is a former world number one, six-time grand slam champion, and a gold medalist from four years ago in London.
She groans and tries not to think about how much she hates all the people who work for ESPN. They have their favorites and the ones they hate, and since she is not a mediocre American male or one of the all-time greats, she’s somewhere in between. Usually, she doesn’t listen to the comments, to the pundits, to the assholes. She tries to stay away from that because it will drive her into a deep state of negativity, but lately, it’s like she can’t get enough of listening to what people say about her as if it is going to give her some kind of insight to her game.
She doesn’t crave their validation, but maybe, in a twisted way, she does.
“She gave birth sixteen months ago,” Mary Jo sighs. “She came back a year after giving birth. She is not going to be who she was before she had a child. The fact that she’s won enough this year to be in the top ten is amazing when she started with no ranking since there are no tour protections for maternity leave. She’s a champion, and sometimes champions struggle as they get their form back.”
“Sixteen months is a long damn time,” Patrick says, and Emma’s vagina would beg to differ. “She should be back to how she was or she shouldn’t be playing.”
“Have you given birth, Patrick? Because unless you have, I don’t think you get a say.”
“It’s my job to say what I think.”
“Still, I think – ”
The television clicks off, and Emma’s gaze finds its way back to David. “We’re not listening to them. It’ll piss you off. Mary Jo is right. You’re doing amazing, and I don’t want you to forget that.”
Emma doesn’t know if she’s doing amazing, doesn’t feel that way a lot of the time. This job is hard enough, to kill your body while also having the eyes of the world on you, but adding in a baby? It’s nearly impossible. A few other women have done it before her, not all with spectacular returns or returns at all, and she wants to keep getting better and play for long enough that Olivia will be able to see her mom play and remember it.
She’s not just doing it for herself. She’s doing it for her daughter, whose entrance into the world was unplanned, terrifying, and the best damn thing to ever happen to Emma even if she doubts herself in motherhood every day.
“I miss her,” Emma whispers to David, reaching up to play with her necklace, Olivia’s initials engraved in the gold circle. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it two more weeks without seeing her.”
“Do you want me to get Mary Margaret to FaceTime you with her? They’ve been watching your match at home.”
“No, no.” She shakes her head and releases the pendant, her resolve back as she inhales and focuses on her job. “Let’s do the rest of my recovery and talk about the match. I’ll call them when we get back to the hotel. I don’t want to get my mind too much out of the game.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
-/-
She wins her next match. And the next.
She loses in the final.
It stings more than her losses usually do, and there have been a hell of a lot of them, but she wanted to win another premiere event. She’s only been winning small events so far this year and making it to the later stages of the bigger events, but she keeps falling short when it’s time for her to push herself over the limit. Emma knows that her time will come, but she’s exhausted.
-/-
She flies to Rio with the rest of the American team who were playing in Montreal and Toronto, and she sleeps the entire ride down.
It’s the most sleep she’s gotten since she gave birth.
-/-
The 2012 Olympics felt familiar for Emma. The matches happened at Wimbledon, a place she’s known since she was sixteen years old and has watched on TV since she was even younger than that. Tennis players were isolated from the rest of the sports and events, and they all stayed in their usual rented houses and apartments instead of the Village or other hotels. Rio is different and completely unfamiliar. She’s staying in the Village, and while the amenities aren’t the best, the spirit of the Games are everywhere. She’s seeing athletes she’s only ever seen on TV before, meeting dozens of people whose names quickly slip out of her mind no matter how hard she tries to keep them there, and it’s impossible not to get excited to see all of these great athletes gathered together.
When she was a kid sitting in a foster home with David, the two of them wondering if they’d ever have a forever home, they would watch reruns of the Olympics on the TV, just waiting for the live ones to come around. It was an escape to get to watch people only a few years older than them doing these great things, and even after Ruth adopted them and paid for them to play sports, they never could have imagined being here.
Emma, sitting on a park bench outside with prestigious gymnasts walking in front of her, still can’t imagine it, and she’s literally here.
“Am I allowed to sit here or is that considered fraternizing with the enemy?”
Emma glances up and sees Killian Jones already sliding onto the bench in front of her. He’s darker than the last time she saw him in person, his hair longer, teeth possibly whiter, and he definitely hasn’t shaved in a few too many days. But the cocky, almost a little too arrogant, smile is the same, and even if she said no, he would still sit across from her. She knows him well enough to know that now.
“As far as I’m aware, you’re not playing mixed doubles, so I don’t think you count as an enemy.”
“Ah, but, love, Americans and Brits have been enemies since the beginning. That doesn’t change here.”
“Everyone else gets along. You’re just a competitive ass.”
“Indeed I am.” He wiggles his brows and leans forward, smirk stretched across his lips. “So, I was handed a bag full of Olympic-themed condoms when I checked in. Would you like to go try them out?”
“Shut up,” Emma laughs, kicking his leg. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Too many things to count.” He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest, muscles ever-so-slightly bulging underneath his Team Great Britain t-shirt. She’s wearing a similar one with USA emblazoned in the biggest font she’s ever seen. Not a lot of subtly going on at the moment. “Where’s Ruby? David? Any of the other Americans? Shouldn’t you all be eating or practicing or doing something besides sitting on a bench by the water?”
“Shouldn’t you?”
“Touché, Swan. Touché. Will and I were on the way to eat, but I saw you and got distracted. I don’t have practice until later. Rob is forcing me to give myself a break so I don’t exhaust myself after Toronto.”
“Well, you do have old bones.”
“Oi, I am thirty-two and at the top of my game. How many people can say that?”
“Anyone who is not an athlete.”
Killian shrugs and tilts his head to the side, rolling his shoulders. He’s right, though. Killian is playing better than he ever has. He’s always been good ever since he was touted to be Great Britain’s next big thing. She watched for years as the British media slagged him off for not having won Wimbledon despite having won the other majors two times around, but six years ago, he won after a five-hour, grueling match and fell onto the ground. The image was everywhere, and now, every time she’s in London or Wimbledon, that image lines the walls. It’s how she felt when she won the US Open. All of the major are special, but winning your home one, if you’re lucky enough to have one, is something else. And now Killian is world number one once more, has won two majors in a row with several premiere events in between, and with his form, she can’t imagine him losing.
But that’s why you lace up the sneakers. You never know what’s going to happen.
She’s been around the game long enough to know that.
Killian too.
Their paths have crossed for years, mostly because they have the same sponsors and do a lot of promotional events together, but the more they both started winning, the more they’d see each other at tournaments and dinners and everything in between. It’s a busy life, and while there’s time to make friends outside of tennis, sometimes it’s easier to find people in the industry.
She’s not entirely sure she would call Killian Jones a friend.
“Have you eaten, love?” he asks.
“Not yet.” On cue, her stomach growls, and he smirks, not that he really stopped.
“Why don’t you come with me? You can sit with us before we take the bus to the courts for training.”
“What happened to fraternizing with the enemy?”
He leans forward and winks. “For you, I’ll make an exception.”
Emma laughs but nods and stands with Killian as they walk to the main dining hall. It’s packed, the room echoing with conversation and laughter, and Emma and Killian are stopped several times to take pictures and sign autographs, something she will never get used to, before they sit down with Will, Rob, and several other plays from all around the world. For a minute, it’s like they’re in their usual bubble that they live in for the rest of the year with only tennis players around, but then Emma sees Usain Bolt walk by and she knows they’re not.
This is weird.
This is wonderful.
This is almost everything.
-/-
The Opening Ceremonies are long and sometimes boring, and she hates the outfit she has to wear, but she doesn’t know if she’ll get to do this again in four years so she savors it.
She savors it all, walking side by side with Ruby, Ashley, and Anna, and she takes all of it in before her mind switches to work-mode as she runs through her opponent for her first match. The nerves have been pushed down in favor of the experience, but they’re back and in full-force.
She cannot lose in the first round.
-/-
She doesn’t.
-/-
She doesn’t lose her next few matches either.
-/-
Emma’s made it to the quarterfinals in both singles and doubles with Ruby after several days of long matches and struggling to see the ball – whoever thought making a fully green court with green side walls for tennis has obviously never played tennis, and she never wants to play on center court again – and she knows she’s one win away from guaranteeing that she plays in a medal-winning match.
It’s a relief and pressure all at once, something she’ll never grow used to, and as the sun sets and the village begins to get loud, Emma sits on her balcony watching the fountains in the lake light up. Ruby is off with Mulan somewhere Emma would rather not know about and will probably not be back to their room until at least tomorrow morning if the look on Ruby’s face was any indication, so Emma thinks she might get a little time to sit down and breathe for a moment, watching different events on TV. She could go watch them, but she doesn’t think her legs will carry her there.
Until her phone buzzes with a text that she quickly answers, and not three minutes later, there’s a knock at her door.
Emma quickly opens it, pulling him inside, and Killian kicks the door closed behind him as he cups her cheeks and kisses her, long and slow but with enough heat simmering below the surface that Emma knows there could be a promise of more later.
She’s seen him nearly every day for the past week, but she’s missed him.
She’s missed this.
His mouth moves expertly over hers in a rhythm that’s been practiced to perfection, and she feels dizzy with his kiss and holds onto his hair to keep her standing up. The Brazilian summer air wafts through the room, coating it in a thick heat, but Emma doesn’t pay any attention to that as heat curls between her thighs, warming her more than the air ever could. Her legs ache from the match, her arms feel heavy, but Killian makes her forget those things as he lays her down on the bed and kisses every inch of her body, spending time with his dark head of hair buried beneath her thighs until she can no longer speak.
Until she can scarcely breathe as well.
She manages to laugh, though, when he pulls out one of the condoms that has the Olympics logo on it, and she and Killian makes jokes about it as he slides into her, a thick sheath of heat that she never gets used to. It’s slow at first, a gentle rocking that keeps her teetering on the edge, but their bodies are tired and worn, and soon, it’s a race to the finish line.
Emma comes in first, not that it matters.
(But it does feel good to beat him.)
(They’re both competitive asses.)
(Even when they shouldn’t be.)
After, they’re both slick with sweat that doesn’t go away as their bodies press together on the small twin bed. Emma almost wishes she had rented a house outside the village like David and some of the other coaches did, but she doesn’t want to give up the experience. And it’s fine, especially as Killian shifts behind her and lets her settle into him, her hips pressing back into his as his arm wraps around to rest on her stomach, fingers occasionally searching out for her breast.
Emma is exhausted, but this is the best she’s felt in weeks.
(She definitely couldn’t walk to any of the events now, and she did want to see Phelps swim.)
“You played bloody fantastic in your doubles match today.”
“Not my singles?”
“I played at the same time as you. I didn’t get a chance to watch.”
Emma hums and leans further back into him. She’s glad Killian did most of the work because just thinking about how much she’s got to move again tomorrow is making her sore. “I played well there too. Straight sets.”
“Atta girl.” His lips press into her neck, stubble scratching across the skin. “I’ve been thinking…”
“Oh, that’s always dangerous.”
Killian laughs but nudges his knee into her, which really only settles his cock between her ass, but she’s too tired to think of doing anything else. “I’ve been thinking,” he continues, “that I’m going to withdraw from Cincinnati and fly home instead.”
“To London?”
“To Palm Beach. I think it might be nice to have a calm week between tournaments to spend time with my girlfriend.”
“Oh really? You’ll have to tell her your plan. I’m sure she’d like that.”
Killian tickles her stomach, making her squirm, before he lightly pinches her side. “Mhm. I thought we might also like to spend time with our daughter since FaceTime isn’t cutting it for me anymore. I swear she’s grown three feet since I last saw her.”
“Four, I think. She’s basically a full-grown adult now with all that walking and talking she’s doing.”
“Has she said any new words I’m not aware of?”
“Nope. She still can only say the three.”
“Good. I’m glad I didn’t miss anything else.” Killian kisses the side of Emma’s neck again, and she twists around, wrapping her arms around him and pressing their noses together as she stares into blue, blue eyes that aren’t diminished by the darkened room. “I think we should bring her to New York with us. Hopefully at least one of us will be there for three weeks, and that’s just too long to go without her.”
“We’re staying in a hotel in New York. In two separate suites, I might add.”
“But we don’t have to.”
“Killian…”
His hand brushes down her side, warmth permeating from the rough fingertips, before it rests on her hip, thumb moving in soothing circles. “I’ve already called and seen if they could give me the Penthouse. It’s an entire floor with private entrances and a private elevator. Our teams can stay with us or they can stay in the original suites we were designated. I know you bring her with you when you can and that I sneak in visits, but I want to be able to stay with my daughter.”
This isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation, and if she doesn’t say yes to it, it won’t be the last.
Things between she and Killian are complicated. They’re relationship isn’t, not anymore. At first, she couldn’t stand him, thought he was genuinely this cocky asshole from the way he talked in matches and in off-court interviews, like he was God’s gift to the sport or something. Then they ended up both winning in Australia four years ago, and while doing press together, she saw a different, kinder side to him that she hadn’t previously seen when they worked together in Nike promotions.
Fast forward through a lot of early morning calls, late night rendezvous in their hotel rooms, and a heck of a lot of texts and FaceTime sessions, and somewhere along the way, the impenetrable Emma Swan fell in love with the impossible Killian Jones.
They kept it secret, the both of them knowing how vicious the media is to athletes that date each other, especially since Killian was going through a wrist injury that was somehow his fault according to the pundits and that he was getting hounded pretty hard at the time. They didn’t know if it was going to work, neither of them having stellar relationship records, but they figured eventually they would be okay with the world knowing.
Then came the positive pregnancy test, and Emma’s entire world shifted.
She was at the top of her game, at the top of her world, and as hard as it is for her to admit now, she didn’t want Olivia. She wanted to keep living her life the way it was. That was a possibility but not one she was willing to take, so she stopped playing but kept training as she and Killian figured out how they were going to do this.
They’re never home, rarely together, and they were both way out of their leagues. It would have been easier to tell the world they were together, that Killian was the father, but Olivia’s protection is worth more than their ease.
Now, though, looking at the crease between Killian’s brow and the sadness pooled in his eyes, she wonders if they’re doing the right thing.
“I know. I’m sorry. I – ” Emma’s lips quiver, and she nearly cries. She’s exhausted beyond belief and doesn’t know what to do, so she buries her face in Killian’s neck and wraps her arms around him. “Can we talk about this on the plane ride home?”
Emma says home as if they’re going to the same place after this. They’re not. But maybe she should listen to Killian and take the break she’s been craving.
“Aye, love, if that’s what you want.”
She nods and feels his lips ghost over the crown of her hair. “I want to lay here with you and not think about tennis or make hard decisions.”
“You want to talk about how bloody uncomfortable this bed is?”
Emma laughs. “It really makes you miss those awful ones in Paris.”
“You had to ask for a new one.”
“It was so worth it.”
-/-
They FaceTime Olivia in the morning. Mary Margaret has her in a matching outfit to Emma’s uniform, and Killian scoffs that she’s representing America instead of Great Britain.
Emma thinks it’s the best thing in the world, and it reminds her who she’s playing for.
It’s not for her country, not for herself. It’s for her daughter.
Their daughter.
-/-
The next two days drag by and yet she has a difficult time keeping up with them. Her practices are long, recovery longer as her shoulders are massaged and legs are iced, and Ruby has to drag her out onto the court for doubles when all she wants to do is sleep. She’s not used to playing this many matches in such a short period of time, and while having Ruby on court with her helps lessen how much she runs, her legs are still aching.
She’s almost to the finish line. She can make it.
“Those legs are too pretty for you to be dragging them like that,” Ruby jokes as they sit down during a changeover in the third set of their quarterfinal match. Emma reaches for her energy drink and takes a sip before biting into a banana while Ruby shakes her legs.
“I can’t make them move.”
“Yes, you can,” Ruby insists. “You already won your singles today, and we’re four games away from winning this match. I will kick your ass if we don’t win this.”
“Can you kick my ass if it’s already kicked?”
“I can indeed.” Ruby pats Emma’s knees and smiles. “Come on, hot mama. We’ve got this.”
And it’s tough, but they do.
Emma and Ruby go through recovery, and when Emma checks her watch, she sees that Killian’s match is just about to start.
“Do you want to get a bus across the grounds and go watch swimming?” Ruby asks her as David massages her calf. It’s not his job, so he obviously can’t stop complaining about doing it.
“I think I want to watch Killian’s match. Can we get seats in the stadium? Is his box empty?”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” David asks her as her muscle spasms.
“If we all go, it won’t be suspicious. He’s playing Sam, so they might think we’re supporting the Americans.”
“Aren’t we?”
Her eyes roll. “Not in this situation. Come on. Text Rob and see if we can get into Killian’s box.”
David levels her with a stare, and she knows he’s going to say no, that it’s a bad idea. But then he releases her leg and pulls his phone out of his pocket.
They end up going still dressed in their match clothes, and Emma puts on a sweatshirt, a cap, and sunglasses to hide herself as much as possible. She knows it won’t work considering she’s literally wearing the outfit she has worn all week, but she can at least try. It’s been years since she’s gotten to watch one of Killian’s matches from somewhere other than the locker room or her hotel room, and she’s missed the magic of watching him play. He’s fluid with his motions, even if they are slower than they used to be, and his groundstrokes are powerful from the baseline. She knows from the moment that she sits down that he’s winning this match. She can tell by the way he’s carrying himself and the determination in his eyes. She grabs her phone and snaps a picture just as he looks her way, brow raised in question but a smile on his lips.
-/-
Killian wins his match, and she finds him in the tunnel afterward, his team creating a wall around them, and wraps her arms around him, not caring that they are both disgustingly sweaty or around other people.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“And I you.” The corner of his lips brush against her temple. “You’re amazing, Emma. Bloody amazing.”
“You too, my love.”
-/-
Emma wins the semifinals of both of her matches.
Killian wins his.
They’re both playing in gold medal matches – Emma definitely brags about how she’s playing two while Killian is only playing one – and she wants to vomit.
Holy shit.
-/-
“Say hi to your mommy,” Mary Margaret tells Olivia as Olivia keeps smacking her hand on the screen. “Your mom and dad are there trying to talk to you, Livvie.”
Emma leans her head onto Killian’s shoulder as they both stare into the screen waiting for Olivia to move her hand. She does with some help from Mary Margaret, and then bright green eyes show up. She has Emma’s eyes and dirty blonde hair that’s thick and wavy, but everything else about her screams Killian, especially her smile. Emma has missed that smile.
“Hello, little love.” Killian waves and tries to get her attention, but she couldn’t care less. “Don’t you want to talk to us?”
She makes a noise that isn’t a word, and Mary Margaret sighs. “I’m sorry. She’s been asking about you two, but now that you’re there, she doesn’t care. I tried to tell her what a big deal the two of you were, but she doesn’t care.”
“I’ll have to tell her how incredible her mother is later. She’s going to be the first women to win two singles golds in a row as well as the first mum to do it. And she’s going to have two more medals than me. Showing me up in every category.”
“That’s assuming you win, Jones. I could have three more gold medals than you.”
“I do love a challenge.”
Olivia starts giggling, Emma’s favorite noise on the planet, and she tries to memorize it to keep with her always. She knows Killian does too.
-/-
Emma’s gold medal matches are the day before Killian’s, and she’s jealous he gets a day off to rest. He tells her he’s going to spend the entire time training, sneaking in and out of other events, and watching her matches. She rolls her eyes at his texts because she’s sure he won’t have time to do all of that.
And yet he does.
She sees him in the stands during her doubles match. Ruby points him out when they’re in the middle of discussing serving spots, and Emma laughs at her calling him “lover boy” in a horrible British accent. She always calls him a ridiculous name, and of the few people who know of Emma’s private life, she’s glad Ruby is one of them.
Even if she’s still laughing and double faults on an important point.
It doesn’t matter, though, because within an hour and fifteen minutes, their shortest match of the tournament, she’s on the court’s floor with Ruby sobbing because they won a fucking gold medal.
She gets so little time to savor it, however, because the medal ceremony happens so quickly that she can barely take It all in. She also has press to do, and David has to practically force her into the media room where she and Ruby are hounded with more questions than congratulation as they clutch onto their medals. Ruby handles it like the pro she is while Emma’s nerves start to get the best of her as more people start talking about what she has on the line.
To be the first man or woman to win two gold singles medals in consecutive Olympics.
To win another gold medal for her country.
To be the first mother since Clijsters to win a major tournament.
To win her first big tournament since her comeback.
To have the possibility to win another gold medal in Tokyo in four years if she’s still playing.
It’s a lot, and she knows it. She’s been thinking about all of it every day this week, and her track record of choking in finals lately is pushing at the forefront of her mind.
She doesn’t know if she can do it.
And yet she does.
She laces up her sneakers, pulls her hair back, and takes a deep breath as she blocks everything out of her mind except for her game plan. She knows how the game is played. She’s been playing since she was twelve years old, and even though that’s a late start compared to most people, it’s gotten her here.
Emma walks out of the tunnel as her name is announced over the speakers, and even though all she can hear is the cheer of the crowd, she lets her mind go back to Olivia’s laugh, Killian’s smile, David’s pep talk, Ruby’s ridiculous texts. She thinks of all the things that push her when she wants to stop, and she reminds herself that no matter what happens, she’s done her best.
She could have given up the moment the stick said “pregnant.” She could have packed it all in, but she didn’t. She’s here, and she’s better than any excuse she could come up with not to be.
People have tried to tell her who she is her entire life, but she’s pushed back and said, “no, this is who I am.” Emma still has to do that now, no matter how many times she has proven herself.
The ice bath in Montreal where she wanted to quit seems years away when it was only eight days.
-/-
Emma looks to Ruby then David then Killian as she takes a deep breath on match point. Killian smiles and gives her a subtle nod, and then she raises the ball in the air, ready to toss it.
-/-
Game. Set. Gold freaking medal.
-/-
Afterward, she falls to the ground, her knees aching as they hit the asphalt, and her body can’t stop shaking with her sobs. She doesn’t know what she feels or how she feels or even where she is, and she only gets up from the ground when she hears her family calling for her. She slowly rises from the ground, runs across the court to congratulate her opponent on playing a good match, and then she’s running to the stands and climbing up with David’s help. She embraces him first. She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. he’s been her rock for her entire life, and he keeps her steady. Then it’s her physio and her agent and Ruby. Then, over to the side, is Killian, and their conversation from a few nights ago comes back to her.
She loves him. She’s proud to be with him. They shouldn’t have to hide their family anymore.
They haven’t exactly been doing a good job of it this week anyway.
So Emma very literally pounces on him, her legs wrapping around his waist, before she remembers that he has a match tomorrow. She can’t miss his back up. He’d never let it go if she did. Her feet fall to the ground, but her arms stay wrapped around Killian’s neck as he whispers words of encouragement and congratulations that she’s always going to keep close to her heart, right next to the necklace with the initials O-S-J on them.
Two people thousands of miles apart were brought together by chances, a whole myriad of them. If Ruth hadn’t adopted Emma and David, they never would have picked up a racket. If Emma had never picked up a racket, she wouldn’t have found her purpose in this world. She wouldn’t have a job or a daughter or a man who loves her in spite of how hard she is to love. There was so much that could have derailed her, both good and bad, and while she could say none of it matters, in some way, it all does.
Because it led her here.
And she doesn’t want to be anywhere else even if she would give anything to be able to hug Olivia right now.
“You did so good, Swan,” Killian whispers, his voice the only one she hears.
“I know.”
He pulls back, and there are tears in his eyes that mirror her own. “So, I guess I have to win tomorrow so your bragging rights don’t get too big.”
“Oh, Jones, you are never catching up with me now,” she teases, all of the exhaustion melting away. “I’m miles ahead of you, but you better win. Olivia doesn’t need to be embarrassed by her dad.”
“Pretty sure that’s my job.”
“Right now, your only job is to help me back down onto the court and then go win yourself a gold medal.”
“Don’t tell the presses you’re rooting for a Brit.”
Emma shrugs as Killian thumbs away tears underneath her eyes. “I don’t care anymore, and I’m definitely going to be sitting in your box tomorrow, cheering louder than anyone else.”
-/-
When Killian wins the next night after a torturous four hours, his fall is almost identical to Emma’s. Though, when he climbs into the stands to get to the box, he immediately goes for Emma, cupping her cheeks and kissing her for the entire world to see.
“I guess I’ll have to figure out a way to embarrass our daughter in another way.”
“I think her parents making out on international TV might do just that.”
-/-
Two days after they get home – they spent the entire first day sleeping and holding Olivia – Emma puts on her three gold medals, Killian puts on his one, and they hold Olivia in between them, her toothy smile brighter than the gold as the photo is taken.
Olivia Swan-Jones has a pretty cool mom and a dad who has some catching up to do in the gold medal department.
It’s Emma’s most liked picture on Instagram, not that she cares about any of those things, and it’s the biggest news story for three days straight despite the literal Olympics still happening.
All Emma cares about, though, is that she has a week off – she opted out of Cincinnati after all, despite David’s protests – she can spend with her family before she and Killian are off to New York where the pressure will be the highest it’s ever been and the media will most likely be losing their shit over Emma and Killian’s announcements.
Olivia will be with her, Killian too, and in the end, that’s all that matters.
Oh, that, and the fact that Emma Swan is officially back, and it feels damn good.
-/-
-/-
Thanks for reading, my friends! Can’t wait for those 2021 Olympics 🤞and learning about sports I’ve still somehow never heard of. And if you want to talk to me about tennis, I’m fully here to talk about Rafael Nadal’s biceps and how his game is underrated despite being one of the most dominant athletes of all time 💚😂
#walking the baseline#cs fic#cs ff#cs fanfic#cs olympics#captain swan fanfic#captain swan ff#captain swan fic#captain swan#csow
161 notes
·
View notes
Text
Devastation and Healing
This is the start of a story that’s been swirling around in my head. I admit that I don’t know that much about military life or about being a physical therapist, so I don’t know how accurate it would be should I decide to continue writing it. I just thought I would put it out there to see if there would be any interest in the premise of it.
Blackness. And noise, so much noise. More than he ever thought his ears could endure, followed by a ringing in them so loud that nearly everything else was drowned out. Except the distant screaming which went on and on, until he realized that his throat was raw from it. Then he felt the sensation of wetness all over the left side of his body, starting from the top of his head and running all the way to the tips of his fingers. Fingers which he realized no longer really resembled fingers anymore.
And after the physical devastation came the emotional one. Her words were what was making his ears ring now, nearly as loudly as the IED explosion had. Just as the shrapnel from that device had ripped through his body, Milah’s words had torn through his heart, leaving it mangled and bloody like his body had been. “I can’t be seen with a cripple like you, and I don’t want to have to take care of damaged goods.” Then she was gone from the side of his hospital bed and from his life, off to find her next shining soldier.
Killian Jones had been warned by his friends and the guys in his unit that she only wanted the privilege and prestige of being with a military man. But he had been enamored with her from the beginning. Her beautiful smile, twinkling eyes and musical laugh had drawn him in and, despite hearing that she was no good for him over and over, he had fallen in love with her.
Now, as he looked at the bandage at the end of his left arm which hid the healing wound of the amputation, he wondered if the wound that she left would ever heal. He let his head sink back into the softness of the pillow and felt the hot tears running down the sides of his face into his ears, the ones on the left taking a detoured route through the stitches and scabs.
************
It wasn’t as if she was in love with him. They had only been on three actual dates and had met for coffee a few times. They hadn’t even taken their relationship to that more intimate stage. But hearing that Neal Cassidy had been killed by an IED still devastated her. He was a good guy, one of the best she had ever met, and although she wasn’t in love with him, she did love things about him. He was sweet and attentive, funny and kind. She loved the way his whole face seemed to crinkle up when he smiled and laughed, which was often. He treated her with respect and really listened when she talked. She was hoping that he might be the one.
Emma Swan was the physical therapist for a buddy of Neal’s who had torn some ligaments in his ankle during a training run. Neal had come to pick him up from a session one day and, while his buddy was changing back into his uniform, he’d struck up a conversation with the beautiful blonde therapist. He returned for the remainder of his friend’s sessions, and on the day that Emma had signed the papers releasing the guy from therapy, Neal asked her to meet him for coffee that afternoon. That led to a few more meetings and then three dates before she kissed him and waved to him as the bus drove away, taking him to his point of departure for a nine month deployment. Which turned into an eternal deployment.
Please let me know your thoughts.
Tagging @kymbersmith-90 @pirateherokillian @let-it-raines @captainsjedi @therooksshiningknight @jennjenn615 @hookedmom @ohmightydevviepuu @queen-serena88 @daxx04 @branlovestowrite @theonceoverthinker @laschatzi @coolcat08 @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @resident-of-storybrooke @mayquita @badwolfreturns @kmomof4 @djlbg @withheartfulloflove @nikkiemms @squidvisious @wyntereyez @xsajx @lyssapup27 @tohellwiththepancakes13 @jonesfandomfanatic @annastasiarinaldiva @live-in-my-reality @hollyethecurious @kday426 @ohmyjoanlock @oncechicagolove @spartanguard @therealstartraveller776 @heartofkillian @hookpiratejones @apromisednightcap @andiirivera @swanlovato @searchingwardrobes @ouat-the-hell @adoringjen
#ouat fanfic captain swan#captainswan#captain swan fanfic#captain swan fic#captain swan ff#cs fanfic#cs#cs fic#cs ff#cs angst#cs au fic#captain swan au
67 notes
·
View notes
Text
CSRT Experience: mayquita
As we near our April 1st start date, hear from our authors about the experience of rewriting their stories!
Today, we hear from @mayquita who is rewriting Damn You For Making Me Love You.
What was the easiest aspect of reworking your existing story?
There were two aspects, the first one is that I really liked what I had already written, so I didn't need to make many changes. The second aspect is that I already had the whole story planned so I had to spend less time plotting so I could dedicate it to actually write.
What was the most difficult aspect about reworking your story?
That I wanted to add more and more content to the parts that I already had written. Also, since most of my rewriting was adding flashbacks, I had to continually check to make sure the additions really fit the rest of the story.
What did you learn about yourself or your writing by rewriting your story? How have you or your writing changed since you wrote it the first time?
I've learned that I'm capable of finishing a story if I put the necessary effort and dedication into it. As for how I or my writing have changed, well, I think I now pay more attention to the little details and I also think that I've improved building the characters.
Did rewriting a story under the parameters of the event make you want to rewrite other stories of yours, or take up one of your abandoned stories to try to finish it?
Definitely, now I want to do it with almost all my stories.
Be sure to follow us so you don’t miss any updates this spring!
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Author Interview (2.0)
Tagged by the best babes @therealstartraveller776 & @thisonesatellite — cheers, lovelies!
Name: Ems (Emily, if you’re nasty)
Fandoms: OUAT
Where I post: Tumblr & AO3
Most popular one/two shot: I would stop the world for you tops the list in both hits and kudos! It’s my first foray into abo after reading it for years. I’m so glad people loved it as much as I did!
Most popular Multi-Chapter: The Swan that fell for the Sea takes the cake on this! It’s one of my only MC’s and a gift for @itsfabianadocarmo in the CSSS exchange. It’s still ongoing (and is proving to be longer than I initially thought lol! three parts? more like four. maybe even five. at this point, who knows!) but the next part will be posted soon!
Favourite Story I Wrote: Probably Truth and Consequence because screaming back and forth with @artistic-writer is the best way to write. At one point, we were halfway through and were so tempted to just end it because Salem came out with the killer line ‘and with a soft, mournful sigh, he is forgiven’. Pure poetry. We were like... well, it can’t get better than this so we should just stop now. Out of pure perseverance alone, we went on to write a few thousand more words anyway. I mean, we couldn’t leave you all hanging like that, right? Right?
Story You Were Nervous to Post: It’s another award for The Swan that fell for the Sea. I was so nervous because of it being a gift but it’s going okay so far. Weaving together all the intricacies in part three is proving challenging but it’s getting there!
How You Choose Your Titles: I was talking to @hollyethecurious and @artistic-writer about this the other day. They’re usually song lyrics which is why I have so many that start with ‘I’. I need to come up with a new way to title fics...
Complete: I have 6 finished fics and one ficlet/drabble collection with 10 entries. So that’s 16 in total! Wow!
Incomplete: I’ll give you something back which is currently on hiatus because the muse for that baby has buried itself away somewhere where I can’t find it and The Swan that fell for the Sea because I’m all over the place with work at the minute and have had no time to settle down and really pull the final act(s?) together.
Do You Outline: YES! SO MUCH! I have more outline than fic on some of my wips. Sorry, y’all.
Coming Soon/ Not Yet Started:
Silver for Monsters — This is my CSSNS submission for 2020, spurred on, supported and cheered at by the dream team @carpedzem, @darkcolinodonorgasm, @thisonesatellite and the incomparable @artistic-writer (who I have conned into playing the witcher 3 with me... for research purposes, of course. sorry for stealing her away from you all!)
For Lovers Only — A secret dating fic in which Killian owns a... uh... specialist store.
Untitled Age Gap fic — Silver fox!Killian Jones is a weakness I intend to exploit. I’m not sorry.
ABO!Gladiator Killian — I have a doc full of notes and convo with @hollyethecurious plotting the whole thing out. I just need the time to sit down with it and fully dive in.
You wish I was yours, and I hope you are mine — @darkcolinodonorgasm and I have so much planned for this ‘verse! SO MUCH! I can’t wait to dive into this world and bask in how AMAZING SARA’S MIND IS! Honestly, what a legend!
...and many, many more!
Do You Accept Prompts: I love taking little drabble/ficlet prompts but, currently, I’m not accepting any. Work is mad, real life is happening, and I have a bunch of big projects that need my attention.
Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write: Silver for Monsters. Hands down.
Tagging: @darkcolinodonorgasm, @hollyethecurious, @artistic-writer, @mayquita, @kmomof4, @let-it-raines, @ohmightydevviepuu, @teamhook and everyone who wants to play!
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
TV Show Game
TV Shows Game
RULES: pick 5 shows, then answer the following questions. don’t cheat! tag 10 (or however many) people.
I was tagged by @love-dria to complete this. Sorry it took me so long to get to it!
So my shows are (in random order):
1. Black Sails 2. The Punisher 3. Spartacus 4. Once Upon a Time 5. Supernatural
Who is your favorite character in 2?
Oh this one is easy! It’s Frank Castle. I adore that murdering little cinnamon roll.
Who is your least favorite character in 1?
Oh man. My least favorite character was one of my favorites in season 1&2 but I despised her in seasons 3&4. Yep, it’s Eleanor Guthrie. Other than her and maybe Woodes Rogers, I loved all the characters.
What is your favorite episode of 4?
Do I really have to pick just one?!? Okay, okay... lets go with season 3′s Snow Drifts and There is No Place Like Home. I mean it is the Captain Swan movie. Between Hook knocking Past!Hook out, the waltz, and The Kiss™ -- how could anything be better?!
What is your favorite season of 5?
Season 5 -- I actually rewatching that season right now and everything about it is on point.
Who is your favorite couple in 3?
Gannicus & Sibyl
Who is your favorite couple in 2?
I am 100% Kastle trash and I always will be.
What is your favorite episode of 1?
Season 2, episode 3, titled: XI. I mean Vane killed Low for Eleanor and it was a beautiful thing.
What is your favorite episode of 5?
Swan Song. I love Chuck’s voiceover through the episode. It is such a perfect episode even with the sad ending.
What is your favorite season of 2?
Season 1. I mean all the Kastle parts are perfect but so is the writing. I am pretty sure I’ve rewatched it like a thousand times.
How long have you watched 1?
I watched all 4 season when it was on television and I am currently rewatching it.
How did you become interested in 3?
My husband started watching it while it was airing on Starz and he was up late feeding our newborn twins. He showed it to me and I was hooked after one episode.
Which do you prefer: 1, 2, or 5?
Supernatural will always be my all time favorite show. I’ve stuck with it for 15 years and I am not emotionally ready for it to end this year.
Which show have you seen more episodes of: 1 or 3?
I think Spartacus has one more episode than Black Sails so that one.
If you could be anyone from 4, who would you be?
Emma Swan, like that was even a question. (gif not mine)
Would a crossover between 3 and 4 work?
Punisher and Spartacus? Nah, two very different time periods.
Pair two characters in 1. Who would make an unlikely, but strangely okay couple?
Romantically? Maybe Billy and Abigail Ashe. There was a hint of something there but nothing ever happened.
Overall, which show has the better storyline.
Overall, I’m going to go with The Punisher. Jon Bernthal played Frank perfectly and the storyline really captured the essence of The Punisher.
Which has better theme music: 2 or 4?
2 - That blues-y guitar riff is perfect
Tagging: (the first 5 on my dash) @captainodonoghue, @witchygagirl, @cat-sophia, @mayquita, @laschatzi
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Damn You For Making Me Love You (13/15) - Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now
Thank you so so much, for your likes, reblogs, kudos and comments. It means the world to me.
Beta-Reader: Thank you so much, @ultraluckycatnd I couldn’t have asked for a better beta. Thank you for all your effort, your suggestions, your advice and for always being there when I needed you.
Special mention to @saraswans and @onceuponaprincessworld, thank you so much for your perpetual support and for believing in me and in the story. Thank you again to the moderators of the event, @captainswanbigbang for giving us this opportunity and making this possible. You all are the best :)
Summary: Emma Swan and Killian Jones are close friends and co-workers. And both are in love with each other. The problem? They keep their feelings secret not only to the other but also to the rest of their friends. When Elsa, Emma’s best friend and Liam, Killian’s brother and Emma’s boss find out, they decide to form an alliance and work as a team with a clear goal, to get Emma and Killian to take the next step in their relationship and confess their love for each other.
Rating: M
Word count: ~ 6600 (98k total in 15 chapters)
Ao3 / FFnet
About this chapter: What might happen when you put six people together in a cabin to celebrate New Year with all those simmering feelings around them?
//
Chapter 12: Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now
Emma - December 2019
Emma could barely contain her excitement as they approached their destination.
They had been so busy the previous week that she was looking forward to enjoying this well-deserved break for everyone. Not only because she would be able to really rest and disconnect for a couple of days, but also because this trip would allow her to spend time again not only with Killian but with the most important people in her life.
Christmas week had been crazy. The number of clients did not stop growing, which meant not only an increase in their income but also an increase in work. During the past few days, she had spent more time helping behind the bar than taking pictures.
The prominent success of The Kraken was also reflected on different social media platforms, as they gained new followers every day, while the number of comments that these followers left was increasing. Even the poll to choose the song on Saturday had been a resounding success, getting a lot of participants who not only dedicated themselves to voting but to give their opinions not only on the songs but also on the singers themselves.
The corners of Emma's lips rose as she read through the new comments that had appeared in the last hours on her phone. They had a passionate audience, no doubt, to the point that they had even started shipping Emma and Killian together, with non-subtle comments about it.
Omg! Their chemistry on stage is awesome.
Can you imagine that one day they surprise us with a kiss after singing? I'd die if that happened.
The Kraken is my favorite bar and I go there every Saturday. And now with even more reasons to go. I love Killian and Emma duets. They're fantastic together.
Killian is the best singer ever, but with Emma by his side, they manage to create magic. Are they really together or does it just seem like it?
I think Memories has been their best performance together so far. It was amazing!!! And I love the songs participating in the new poll. I’ve already voted, looking forward to seeing them sing together Don't Stop Believing. I believe in them.
"What's so funny?" Killian asked as he stretched his neck to try to take a look at her phone screen.
They had decided to travel in one vehicle, with Liam the one designated to drive, since it was his own car. The passenger seat was occupied by Elsa, while Killian and Emma were relegated to the back seats, although this time Killian didn't seem to mind in the least.
"Stuff about The Kraken," Emma explained, handing him the phone. "People seem to ship us," she continued in a lower tone as she glanced forward to make sure the other two were not paying attention to them.
They hadn't told anything to anyone about the new level reached in their relationship. Not that there was much to tell, she had tried to convince herself. They might have shared several kisses but they hadn't talked about feelings, not really.
Well, to be honest, since she had asked him to be patient they had shared more than just chaste kisses. It was as if, even though the armor around her heart hadn't yet disappeared completely, she was having serious difficulties in curbing her physical attraction to him once she had been able to taste his lips — and remember it.
He was a hell of a kisser. Of course he was, she wasn't surprised at all. Still, she had only succumbed once more after Christmas, in a steamy moment shared minutes before Killian took the stage last Saturday. She had followed him to the office to grab the guitar and jumped on him the moment the door had closed behind them, leaving him breathless, flustered, and with his hair completely disheveled just before going on stage. His performance had been the best so far, to her delight.
She was surprised that this new level of intimacy with her best friend had not caused an awkward atmosphere between them. Perhaps her fear that everything would change between them slowed her down before giving him her heart entirely, but the truth was that their first kiss had awakened a wave of sensations swirling inside her, offering her a glimpse of what it could be to be completely with Killian, in both body and soul.
Emma cast a last sidelong glance at Killian, who was staring at her phone screen, a gleeful expression on his face. Then she turned her head in the direction of the car window and focused her gaze on the landscape they were going through, finding snowy fields, large trees on the roadside and the mountains in the background drawing an idyllic picture, giving her just a taste of what they would find when they reached their destination.
//
The cabin was everything they had expected and more. It was located in a clearing between mountains, surrounded by trees and endowed with an aura of peace and tranquility. The interior was quite cozy, decorated in stone and wood, with large windows that offered a privileged image of the surroundings, and a large fireplace that occupied a prominent place in the living room.
Anna seemed to have conveniently forgotten to mention one aspect though. There were only two bedrooms, each including a king-size bed.
Since both Anna and Kristoff had been there since the weekend, they had obviously already chosen a bedroom, the master suite, which not only had a giant bed but also included its own bathroom, a fireplace, and direct access to a small private porch overlooking the snowy mountains.
"Isn't it a wonderful place?" Anna could barely contain her enthusiasm while acting as a proud hostess, showing them every little detail of the cabin. "We can watch the sunrise while we lie in bed."
"Yeah, it's fantastic. But Anna, do you realize that we are four people and there is only one more bed?" Elsa was the one who decided to address the issue that really mattered to them while everyone else exchanged furtive glances.
"Oh, that's not a problem at all," Anna answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. "The living room couch is actually a sofa bed with room for two people. Kristoff and I have thought that you two guys can share the sofa while the other room would be for the girls."
"Unless you decide on a different room arrangement, of course," Kristoff added, raising his eyebrows with a not so subtle smirk adorning his lips.
"We'll manage," Liam hurried to answer as he scratched behind his ear, revealing with his gesture that he was nervous. At least in that regard, the two brothers were very similar.
This time Emma didn't even bother to protest about the distribution of rooms.
In fact, if she hadn't been one of the people involved she would have found the situation quite comical, four people in their thirties avoiding looking at each other and appearing clearly uncomfortable while thinking, surely, that, if the circumstances were different, they would have preferred a different bed partner.
Emma had to suppress a nervous laugh as an idea began to set in her head. They had come to this place not only to disconnect from the big city, but to have a good time with friends. She had at least placed many expectations on this trip since they had everything at their disposal to make those two days unforgettable in every way.
One thing was clear, she did not plan to say goodbye to the year with uncertainty in her heart and doubt in her mind. She had better find a moment to have a conversation with Killian that she should have had a long time ago. But she wasn't going to let another year go without confessing her feelings. And if for that she had to resort to certain unorthodox measures, she wouldn't hesitate to do so.
She cast a sidelong glance at Killian before accompanying Elsa to move their belongings to the assigned bedroom. The burning gaze he returned had the ability to make the butterflies in her stomach flutter furiously. He raised an eyebrow as he tilted his head to the side slightly, as if he were asking, without words, what she was up to, proving once again how well he knew her. In response, she bit her lower lip and then mouthed a simple later, before turning around and heading to the bedroom.
When Emma was left alone momentarily with Elsa, she was tempted to question her friend about her possible relationship with Liam. They had been so busy in the past few days that they had barely had time to chat beyond the normal conversations generated due to living together. But Emma was really dying to know Elsa's true feelings. She had remained quite reserved about it since she started whatever she had with Liam.
"So, are you ever going to tell me what's really going on between you and Liam?" Clearly finesse was not Emma's forte.
To her credit, Elsa's face remained almost impassive, only a faint shadow of surprise crossing her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about, Emma. He and I are just friends, you know that." Her blank expression suddenly changed, giving way to one of defiance. "I guess you're used to that term, friends, aren't you?"
"Well, I'm not the one who kissed a Jones in front of everyone last week." Emma's voice didn't even tremble as she counterattacked. Technically she wasn't lying, but the truth was that she had devoured Killian's mouth just a few minutes before the mistletoe incident.
"Oh, I'm well aware of that, believe me. Of you not kissing a certain Jones under the mistletoe, I mean. Such a wasted occasion." Elsa let out an exaggerated sigh as she shook her head in an attitude of false resignation.
Emma raised an eyebrow as she snorted, surprised by that unusual sarcastic side of Elsa. Even so, her attempts were not enough to divert attention. "What I hope is not a wasted occasion is this getaway. For any of us."
"I hope not, really. I have the feeling that we are about to enjoy some unforgettable experiences around here. We deserve this, you know. Right, Emma?"
Emma simply nodded as she offered her a smile of appreciation, her heart fluttering in her chest. They totally deserved it, not only she and Killian, but also Elsa and Liam. The most selfless and kind people she had known deserved to reach their piece of happiness and if this happened with them together, so much the better.
//
Elsa had ended up being right. They had only spent a few hours there but Emma and the others had managed to have a glorious time. The memory of their previous trip to Storybrooke crossed her mind several times throughout the day, since although the experiences had been quite different, the feeling of contentment had been the same on both occasions.
They had laughed until their stomachs ached while playing in the snow like little children. They had savored a delicious homemade meal in a small and cozy establishment located in the nearby town. She had even enjoyed playing a board game — Monopoly— for the first time in a long time. The fact that she had always been good with finances probably had something to do with the fact that she had managed to beat Liam, the expert businessman.
The only thing she had missed during the day had been the chance to spend more time with Killian. In fact, they had not had the slightest chance of having a moment of privacy even for a minute, so they had to settle for longing glances, accidental touches or promising smiles, something she should have already been used to but that now, given their current circumstances, was no longer enough.
Still, she hoped to solve this little problem soon, if all went well with the plan she had begun to forge. She just needed to find the best occasion to carry it out.
That opportunity would soon arrive, to her delight.
After the last Monopoly game, Anna and Kristoff had retired to their bedroom, alluding that they were tired, although Emma suspected that their early departure was nothing more than an excuse. Either way, she wasn't going to complain, especially since it would make her plan much easier to carry out.
The others, Emma included, decided to watch a movie since none of them seemed in a hurry to go to sleep. Emma strategically placed herself on the largest couch, the one that would be turned into a bed, dragging Killian to her side, so the other two had no choice but to settle on the other perpendicular sofa.
Before they started watching the movie though, Elsa decided it would be a good idea if they made popcorn, so Liam quickly offered to help her. It was as if the stars had lined up in Emma's favor, because this unexpected moment of solitude would allow her to inform Killian of her crazy plan.
"Are you ready to fall asleep in a few minutes?" Emma muttered as she cast a sidelong glance in the direction of the kitchen area to make sure the other two weren't listening.
"We haven't even started watching the movie, Swan. I hope we stay awake for at least the first hour." He smirked at her and then placed an arm on her shoulders and pulled her close.
"I'm not talking about really falling asleep, but pretending to fall asleep. We already have experience in that. Sort of."
Killian's eyes narrowed in confusion and then widened, as if he had realized the implications of his plan, his lips drawing a naughty smirk. "Are you planning to sleep with me here, in the middle of the living room? That would be scandalous, Swan."
"You're an idiot." She patted him on the chest, earning a silent chuckle on his part.
She tried to convince herself that it wasn't a big deal, but still, she couldn't help a blush crawling up from her neck to her cheeks. Maybe her original idea was to force Liam and Elsa to share a bed although that would also imply that they would have to do the same. Emma was no longer sure which of these prospects she was most interested in. "You just need to go along with me. We'll pretend to be asleep until those two have no choice but to go to the bedroom and hopefully share a bed," Emma explained between whispers.
After her previous conversation with Elsa, Emma had found her friend quite receptive to the idea of being in a relationship, although she hadn't made any direct reference to Liam. Still, it didn’t hurt if they were given a little push to send them in the right direction.
"I just hope they don't decide to wake us up this time." Although Killian maintained a neutral expression, his tone implied that this possibility didn't excite him at all. Well, at least they were on the same page. "It's unlikely, though, given our tendency." He winked as he bumped her shoulder with his.
Her retort died before leaving her mouth as Liam and Elsa made their appearance again at that moment, holding two bowls of popcorn. So she did the only thing she could do at the moment, she settled back on the sofa, waiting for the best opportunity to carry out her plan.
They did watch the movie, at least during the first half-hour. When Emma cast a sidelong glance at the occupants of the other couch, she couldn't help smiling. They kept their eyes fixed on the television screen but Liam was circling Elsa's shoulders with his arm while her hand rested on his thigh at knee level. They seemed totally at ease with each other. Perfect.
The show was about to begin.
She leaned slightly toward Killian, who, in response, raised his arm and placed it on her shoulders, drawing her to him. After a few seconds of adjusting to the new position, she rested her head against his chest and pressed his thigh discreetly. She cast one last glance in the direction of Elsa and Liam to make sure they weren't paying attention, and then she closed her eyes, starting her stellar performance.
She didn't have to make many efforts to pretend to be asleep, really. The atmosphere that surrounded her certainly invited her to sleep, with the room dimly lit, the warmth emanating from the fireplace, and the rhythmic beat of Killian's heart against her ear acting as a lullaby. Emma felt a kind of drowsiness taking hold of her, making it increasingly difficult to stay awake. Just when she was about to succumb to sleep, she heard the first whispers.
"Liam! Look at these two. They've fallen asleep. Again."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?"
"Do you think we should wake them up?"
Emma held her breath trying to remain still as she prayed that her slow breathing would be convincing enough.
"Hell no. Let them sleep." Emma suppressed a sigh of relief when she heard Liam's reply. They remained silent for a moment although Emma detected some noises, as if they were moving and then heard another more concrete sound, a camera shutter followed by a giggle from Elsa.
"Shhhh, lass, we don't want them to wake up, do we?"
"I wonder how many photos we have of them in that position." After a brief pause, Elsa continued in an even lower tone, so Emma had to make an extra effort to capture her words. "At least this time they haven't needed any set up from us."
"I'm starting to doubt our abilities as matchmakers, love. Nothing seems to work with these two."
Emma's body tensed involuntarily at Liam's words. What the hell were they talking about?
"What will we have to do next? Lock them in a room together?"
"It's not a bad plan, lass. In fact, this house has a pantry that could work. At least they would have food and liquids to survive until they finally decide to confess their feelings to one another."
They know.
Emma was surprised to realize that Liam was also aware. Not only that, but they had been working behind their backs to push them together.
Her heart began to beat frantically in her chest as a feeling of unease settled inside her, making it difficult to keep pretending she was asleep.
Although they continued to speak in soft whispers, Emma was no longer sure she wanted to keep listening. She noticed how Killian's body had also stiffened, but given their current situation, she couldn't check his reaction to Liam and Elsa's unexpected dialogue.
"It's a bit frustrating, to be honest," Elsa muttered. "They are so in love but they are so afraid that sometimes I feel like shaking them to make them react."
"Aye. Killian ... I've never seen him so in love, not even with Milah. Sometimes I wonder how I could have been so blind these past four years when the signs were so obvious."
Killian loves me.
Killian loved her.
For some reason, the realization of that fact, far from making her burst with happiness, caused the feeling of unease to increase, making her feel overwhelmed and having difficulty staying still when her whole body screamed to jump away from him.
"Emma is an expert in masking her feelings. But I think she is reaching her limit, really. I have a feeling that this getaway will bring us more than one pleasant surprise."
"Aye. For starters, everything seems to indicate that the two of us are going to end the year sleeping together. I mean, in the same bed. Well... I can always sleep on the floor, or stay here on this sofa..."
"Oh, shut up, Liam. We'll share a bed. It's not a big deal."
"As you wish."
In other circumstances, Emma would have felt happy after that little exchange. On this occasion, however, she couldn't wait for them to get out of there.
"Speaking of which, why don't we go to sleep too? I can barely keep my eyes open."
"Just give me a couple of minutes to make sure to extinguish the fire in the fireplace."
Emma kept her muscles tense while listening to several muffled noises, which she supposed came from Elsa and Liam making sure that everything was fine before going to sleep. After what seemed like hours, she felt a warm and fluffy fabric sliding over them. Liam, or more likely Elsa, had placed a blanket over them to make sure they kept warm after the fireplace went out.
The long-awaited silence fell on them a few seconds later. Emma remained motionless though, ignoring the pull of her body until she was sure that they weren't going to be discovered. After mentally counting to ten, she couldn't resist it anymore, literally jumping off the couch.
She was freaking out. Deep down she was aware of it but seemed unable to stop the escalation of feelings that had taken hold of her. She began pacing up and down, feeling like a caged animal.
She suspected —no, she knew, she corrected herself —that Killian had feelings for her. She had stopped having doubts about that after sharing their first (second) kiss. But love was a meaningful word. She hadn't expected to hear that word so soon, even though her feelings were mutual. She hadn't expected to hear about it in such an unusual and impersonal way either.
"Emma? What's wrong?"
Emma chose to ignore Killian and focused instead on trying to control the contradictory thoughts that clustered in her head and to pull herself together. She wasn't even able to put into words everything that was going through her mind at the time, which only increased her sense of frustration. Still, she forced herself to take a deep breath to calm the rapid beat of her heart.
He loved her... How on earth would she be able to deal with that confession when she hadn't yet assumed the implications of their first kiss?
The other revelation wasn't easy to accept either. All these previous weeks, all those unexpected plans had been nothing more than the set-up attempts by her two friends. Emma felt as if, somehow, the escalation of feelings towards Killian had been forced instead of flowing naturally.
"Emma..."
This is a mess ... she thought, unable to face Killian right now while avoiding his gaze at all costs.
"Emma, look at me." She was so absorbed by her turbulent thoughts that she hadn't realized he had risen from the couch and was right in front of her. "What's going through that head of yours?"
His voice didn't denote annoyance, rather concern and a hint of curiosity. In other circumstances, she would have admired his composure, but this time she wanted to be mad at him. They were both involved, why did she feel like boiling inside when he remained perfectly calm?
"You heard them, right? This is... this is too much." She waved her hand as if encompassing the space between them. She was scared of what she would find when she looked into his eyes but showing off an unusual display of courage, she finally looked up, searching for his gaze, finding a stormy expression, and a special glow in his eyes.
"I've listened to them and honestly, I wasn't surprised by any of their revelations. I wonder why it has affected you so much. Isn't everything they have said true?"
"That's exactly the reason, Killian!" she hissed, looking away again as she felt like a wave of frustration washed over her, seeing herself unable to explain how she felt. Killian, always so perceptive, reached out tentatively and began rubbing her arms gently, as if trying to calm her down.
"Emma, love, you need to calm down."
Although reluctant, she did what she was told while taking a shuddering breath in a new attempt to pull herself together. His reassuring gesture worked as she noticed how her tension level gradually decreased. Only when he made sure she had calmed down enough did he nod in her direction, encouraging her to express her feelings.
Before speaking, she shook her head feeling ridiculous about her overreaction, while noticing how her cheeks blushed in embarrassment. Even so, after letting out a heavy sigh, she finally decided to explain herself.
"I know it's ridiculous, but I feel like with their stupid setups they've forced us into our current situation, instead of the feelings between you and me developing naturally." She knew that her speech made no sense, but still she felt the need to expel those thoughts away.
Killian opened his mouth as if he wanted to reply, but she lifted a finger and pressed it to his lips gently as she gave him an imploring look to let her continue. "Besides, I feel robbed. First, with our first kiss that we barely have a memory of and now with that revelation. Such confessions should be one of the milestones to reach in a couple. The first kiss, the first I..." Her voice trailed off, as she looked away again, feeling unable to express those three words out loud. Not yet.
"Emma..." The way Killian pronounced her name, in an almost reverent manner, caused a chill to run down her spine. He then touched her chin and pressed gently, forcing her to lift her head and look him in the eye. A feeling of vertigo seized her when their gazes met again. There was pure honesty in the blue depth of his eyes, along with something like devotion and, above all, love.
"I love you, Emma Swan. I've loved you for a while, actually. My confession may be hasty, but at least it serves, I hope it serves to reach one of our milestones as a couple. Because, believe me, love, I intend to reach each and every one of them. Together."
He loved her.
She gasped, unable to react, her breath caught in her throat as he continued speaking. "As for my brother and Elsa's alliance, these unexpected plans may have gotten my feelings towards you to increase, but they are real. So real and intense that sometimes I feel overwhelmed, but in a good way."
She loved him.
She loved him for many reasons, including his way of acting towards her and his ability to always find the right words to reassure her.
"Besides," he continued in a lighter tone, "haven't we been doing the same with them? Acting as matchmakers? In fact, we're in this situation right now because of your idea to try to push them together, Swan."
He was right, again. Still, she had the feeling that the other two had taken it more seriously than them. At least the other pair had developed a much more detailed action plan than their poor attempts.
"We're idiots," she groaned as she covered her face with her hands. Now wasn't the time to feel embarrassed, she told herself, but to assess their actions and learn from them, as any normal adult would do, right? She dropped her arms, looking back at Killian. "But at least it worked, didn't it? I mean, look at the two of us, finally having this conversation, while they are sleeping together. Thanks to me." She raised an eyebrow while she grinned at him. Okay, maybe acting like an adult wasn't her forte after all.
"Okay, I'll give you that, but you must admit that you were wrong when you said they were dating in secret."
"Semantics."
Killian chuckled, the sound causing her stomach to flutter. She was hopeless in regard to this man. That reminded her that she still had more confessions to make. Still, she was grateful for that brief pause that had served both to lighten the tension and to reassure her in some way, since at least so far in their new relationship, the banter and the teasing between them remained intact.
"I'm terrified," she blurted out, without giving herself time to have second thoughts. Perhaps if she dared to express her concerns aloud she would be able to see them from another perspective that would allow her not only to face her fears but to overcome them. "What if this doesn't work between us? What if we, I don't know, we don't work in bed? What if there's no spark?" She hated the vulnerability of her voice a little, but he deserved honesty. "You're my best friend, I can't... I can't lose you."
The corners of his lips rose drawing a reassuring smile. "I know how you kiss, Swan, and if that is indicative enough, we shouldn't worry about that other regard, believe me." He accompanied his words with a suggestive move of his eyebrows causing her cheeks to start burning. Then his expression changed to a more solemn one. "I'm not going anywhere, Emma. If you want us to remain friends, I'm going to accept it, but that won't change my feelings for you."
Just when she was about to reply, his eyes widened as if he had remembered something while he pressed his fingers to her lips. "Also, I'm so glad I found you, I'm not gonna lose you. Whatever it takes, I will stay here with you."
"Did you just use the lyrics of a song in this conversation, Jones?"
His lips curled into a bright smile as he shrugged. "I have a feeling that nothing's gonna stop us now ."
She huffed while shaking her head in disbelief. She should be used to it, after all. It was one of the consequences of falling in love with a musician, that music was always present in one way or another.
She was in love with him. And he deserved to know it.
"I love you," she suddenly confessed, without giving herself time to think. The way in which his face lit up as his gaze intensified was enough reward for her. After such a long time of suppressing them, those words sounded a bit strange when said out loud, so she forced herself to pronounce them again to get used to saying them. "I love you, Killian," she repeated, in a much more convincing voice.
"Good," he muttered and then pressed his lips against hers. It was a delicate kiss where Emma could feel all his affection and devotion towards her, the softness of his lips on hers causing all her worries to melt away while her heart finally broke free of its protective barrier.
They kissed languidly for a few seconds until their kisses became more passionate, as if they couldn't get enough of each other. She was so consumed with desire that she barely noticed that they were moving until Killian's calves hit the couch and he dropped on it, dragging her along.
She straddled his lap, her mouth never leaving his, while she felt an overwhelming wave of lust invading all her senses. It was as if, after so much time of repressed feelings and emotions, those very feelings had finally found their freedom. Such was their intensity that she found herself unable to restrain them. Not that she put too much effort into that restraint, honestly. Not when she felt so fucking good in Killian's arms as she was devoured by his demanding mouth and his hands began the first tentative exploration of her body, leaving a burning trail in their wake.
The delicious friction of his prominent arousal against her core was driving her crazy. When his fingertips tentatively brushed the curve of her breasts for the first time, she thought that she could combust at that very moment. She moaned against his mouth as she moved her hips with a clear purpose.
She could have continued just like that for hours, lost in the intoxicating sensation of his lips on hers, while she felt her skin burn under his touch. But Killian decided to break the kiss, parting a little from her and looking for her gaze.
He looked wrecked, the blue of his eyes almost gone, his hair completely disheveled, his lips swollen. A wave of pride seized her at the realization that she was the cause of his current condition. Just when he was about to say something, she deliberately moved her hips again, earning a loud groan from him.
"Emma, love. We... We need to stop," he finally managed to say in a raspy voice. "We're in the middle of the living room."
He was right, of course he was. She was internally grateful that he had had some lucidity because in her case, she had difficulty forming coherent thoughts. After such a long time of repressed feelings, now they ran wild causing her blood to boil and her mind to cloud. Letting out a huff of annoyance, she buried her head in his chest, reluctant to get away from him.
"I'm totally claiming the other bed for tomorrow," he grunted, earning a giggle on her part.
"Well, we can always turn the sofa into a bed and cover ourselves with the sheets. At least we'll have some privacy," she suggested, looking up as she raised an eyebrow suggestively. She did not want to miss the opportunity for intimacy with Killian now that there was nothing that stood in their way.
"Are you thinking of having your way with your best friend, eh Swan? Without even taking me on a date?" he joked, an expression of feigned disbelief on his face.
"Well, we have actually had plenty of dates, if we consider all those crazy plans of your brother and Elsa."
"If you put it that way..."
The light conversation had managed to cool her impulses somewhat, yet the desire for him remained latent, waiting for the best occasion. When they got up from the couch, Emma couldn't help directing her gaze at his crotch, finding a more than obvious tent in his pajama pants. She licked her lips and then let out a quiet sigh trying to redirect both her thoughts and her gaze to something less tempting, such as helping Killian turn the sofa into what would be their bed for the night.
Once the bed was ready, Killian turned off the light of the only lamp that remained lit and then they got into bed together, covering themselves with the sheets. Both instinctively turned towards each other, finding themselves in the middle of the mattress and entangling their limbs.
An idea crossed her mind at that moment, something she had completely forgotten after that first shock a few minutes ago. "So Liam knew about your feelings?" Emma asked in a soft voice, gently stroking his cheek while trying to glimpse his features despite the darkness that surrounded them.
"Aye," he admitted, then placed a soft kiss on her lips. "He has known for a couple of months. Do you remember the weekend we had free?"
"I also confessed to Elsa that weekend," Emma said slowly, as the memory of that night came to her mind, causing her cheeks to blush. She was grateful now that Killian couldn't observe her features in detail due to the darkness.
"What the hell happened that weekend?"
Emma was tempted for a moment to respond evasively using any excuse, but in the end, she decided to be honest with him and confess how she had felt. She didn't want to hide that information, especially because she had the suspicion that that night had been the beginning of what would lead them to their current situation.
"I... I might have been a little jealous," she muttered and bit her lower lip while waiting for his reaction.
"Jealous? Of whom?" Even in the dark, Emma could observe how his eyes widened when he caught the meaning. "Of Belle?"
"I know, I know. It wasn't just Belle, but... you could have chosen any other girl from the bar." She tried to explain herself but was interrupted when Killian captured her lips with his in a demanding kiss, one with the ability to make her head spin.
Killian broke the kiss a few seconds later, resting his forehead against hers as they both tried to catch their breath. "I have another confession to make," he muttered, his warm breath caressing her lips. "I was also jealous, Swan. I thought your strange behavior was because I was interfering in some way, in your search for a one-night stand."
"Really?" His answer caught her off guard. "God, we're two idiots," she muttered while hiding her head in his chest. He circled her with his arms, pulling her to him and causing their bodies to press together.
She loved him.
She wanted him.
She wanted him so badly that, for once, she decided to act on impulse, without fear of consequences, determined to just feel.
Killian slipped a hand under her tank top and began to trace delicate patterns on the skin of her back, while she did the same on his chest.
"You were stunning in that dress that night, Swan. Bloody hot, pure temptation," he purred, his velvety voice sending liquid heat directly to her core. "And then you had the audacity to wear it again to dinner at that restaurant. It was torture."
"Maybe I did it on purpose," she admitted, causing him to utter a guttural sound as his hand slid dangerously toward her lower back until he reached his target, giving her a light squeeze on her ass and pushing her further against him.
T wo could play this game , she thought as her fingers began to trace a path following the line of hair on his torso, descending slowly and tortuously. "I wonder if you needed to do something about it, take the matter into your own hands. You know what I mean." Her hand ended its descending path while she emitted the last words, palming his length over his pants with a clear purpose.
"Bloody hell, woman." He flinched at her touch as he let out a heavy breath. Far from being intimidated, she continued her exploration, internally thanking him for wearing pajama pants, allowing her better access. She did not hesitate to slide her hand under his clothes and then she wrapped her fingers around his length, exerting a tentative movement at first, but gaining security with the soft sounds that came from him. "Emma, love, we shouldn't... someone can appear at any time."
"Let me give you at least this, please."
"We're definitely claiming the other bed tomorrow," he growled before searching for her lips and starting to kiss her thoroughly. Emma took that as an invitation so she continued with her movements, the mere sensation of him pulsing and powerful under her touch sending electric shocks of pleasure up her spine and down to her toes. It was a beginning, something promising and exciting, a glimpse of what was to come.
Maybe the road to get here had been long, but looking back, she wouldn't change anything they had experienced in recent years. Especially when the path they took meant they would end up in this situation, finally giving rein to their passions in an idyllic place with her favorite person by her side.
"Emma," Killian pronounced her name with a mixture of devotion and plea.
"Yes?"
"Don't stop, please."
"Never," she muttered against his lips.
And we can build this thing together
Standing strong forever
Nothing's gonna stop us now
Killian was definitely right when he used the lyrics of a song to describe their relationship.
//
Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think :)
We're reaching the end, just one more chapter to go, plus the epilogue. It's time to celebrate the new year, and as long as they're together nothing else matters.
youtube
#cs ff#cs au#csrt#captain swan#damn you for making me love you#cs au ff#captain swan rewrite a thon#mayquita writes#my cs writings
48 notes
·
View notes
Text
Author interview (2.0)
I was tagged by @gingerchangeling and @whimsicallyenchantedrose. Thank you so much, girls!
Name: Sandra - laschatzi here and on ao3. sandra70 on ff.net.
Fandoms: The only one I’m really invested in and still obsessed with is OUAT. Other stuff I reblog is more about what I randomly like.
Where You Post: My fics? On tumblr, ao3 and ff.net.
Most Popular One-Shot: Hmmm by what standards? Most hits on ao3 got my only threesome fic In My Wildest Dreams. By kudos it’s Consider Living A Life. By comments it’s my 2019 csss fic, Since We’ve No Place To Go. Here on tumblr I think by notes it’s Dark One Lies, Dark One Tricks.
Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: Question: When is a MC a MC? How many chapter/words are required? I have only one piece with more than 5 chapters (actually there are 12 with about 100k words), and that’s Smooth Sailing, my very first CS fic.
Favorite Story You Wrote: I’m sorry, but that’s impossible to answer. I love all my stories, for different reasons - whether it’s full of banter I’m proud of, solid smut, or full of emotions. Some are more fun to write than others, but sometimes those I struggle with, give me the most pleasure when I reread them (why yes, I reread my own stuff, and often).
Story You Were Nervous to Post: Definitely In My Wildest Dreams. It was originally written as a birthday gift (and honestly also just to see if I could pull it off to write a threesome fic) and never meant to be posted... when I finally felt comfortable enough after 1 1/2 years, I was really nervous.
How You Choose Your Titles: Sometimes from a key phrase from the fic itself, but very often I use lines from songs, quotes from the show or from the actors.
Complete: All the fics I have posted are complete. Well, they are mostly one-shots. But even if I write a fic with more parts, no matter how many, I don’t start posting until I have it completely written and can get on a guaranteed posting schedule (usually 2 parts per week).
Incomplete: None.
Do You Outline: OMG not really. I usually start writing down what comes to my head, that can be a scene, a piece of dialogue, and I know where I want to end it, sometimes a few things that I want to happen. All the rest comes as I write (not in chronological order though).
Coming Soon / Not Yet Started: Do you want the titles? I have titles. And short summaries. But that “soon” is relative. Let’s just say these are my WIPs:
In The Good Way - part 2. As the title indicates, a follow up to the very smutty In The Good Way.
Hello Darkness My Old Friend - just a little fic(let?) about Killian being afraid of the dark.
Your Lucky Day - that’s the one I’m currently working on (the other two are dormant, even if they’ve been started much longer ago): it will have more parts (but I’m not sure yet how many). This one’s an AU with Emma and Killian having a tryst at a party and later finding out their brothers are best friends. They keep running into each other, and... well. It’s probably quite predictable, but also has a maybe slightly unexpected twist at the end.
Do You Accept Prompts: I usually don’t get them, but I’m okay with that - as muse doesn’t let me really work on demand. Plus, I’m a super slow writer. That said, I don’t not accept them, but I will refuse if the topic just doesn’t inspire me or if I really don’t have the time.
Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write: See above - Your Lucky Day.
How many people am I supposed to tag, and who has done this already? I’ll just throw out a few names, but please everyone who hasn’t done it and wants to, consider yourselves tagged. @mayquita, @nowforruin, @effulgentcolors, @spartanguard, @teamhook, @thisonesatellite and @ilovemesomekillianjones.
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Fics Retold:
Hello. So I’ve decided to do a relaunch of my WIPs. When I first started writing them I was so afraid of getting a Beta because I was insecure about my writing. I know I’m not the best, but I wanted to write about my OTP. I finally got over my fear. They are Beta'ed by the amazing @ilovemesomekillianjones
I wanted to show that I’m not abandoning any story. No fic left behind. Thanks for reading!
Cover By the lovely @hookedonapirate
Tagged a few friends: @revanmeetra87 @hookedonapirate @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kymbersmith-90 @kmomof4 @djlbg @mayquita @andiirivera @thesschesthair @pirateherokillian
@onceuponaprincessworld @aprilqueen84
@snowbellewells @resident-of-storybrooke @branlovestowrite @sherlockianwhovian @shireness-says @tiganasummertree @dassala @onceuponaprincessworld @let-it-raines @profdanglaisstuff @stophookingatmeswan @optomisticgirl @gingerchangeling @xemmaloveskillianx @xhookswenchx
|AO3| |FFN|
Summary: Modern AU about a guy that remakes himself into a womanizer after a broken-heart. Yes, it is a cliché but the twist comes in the shape of his 15-year-old niece that wishes out into the stars and then some kind of magic happens. This story is inspired by the movie “What Women Want”. Captain Swan AU, there will be other ships but the main pair is Captain Swan.
~~~~~
Chapter 1
Killian Jones is the epitome of a man’s man, he’s admired, a true alpha, and other men want to be him. He has a way with the ladies, but he doesn’t understand a thing about them. At least he doesn’t now. Yep, he knows how to please a woman, but once the thrill of the chase is done, so is he.
But, Killian Jones wasn't always the womanizer he is now. Once upon a time, he'd been head over heels in love with his college girlfriend, Milah. In his eyes, they'd been in love and monogamous. He'd wanted to marry her. He was young but he hadn't cared; if his brother Liam could find his soulmate at a young age, why couldn't he?
He was on his way to surprise his love with an unexpected romantic visit, armed with a ring in his coat pocket. He was on his way to propose to his Milah. It started to sprinkle and the light showers made for a romantic setting. He noticed a sports car parked across the entrance of the dorms and as he got closer, he saw Milah run out of her dorm covering her head from the assaulting raindrops, and into the mysterious car.
He rushed over, assuming she was headed out with friends, only to witness his longtime girlfriend kissing a stranger. Not knowing what else to do, he knocked on the window. She looked at him coldly as she lowered it, she didn't even look sorry. Before he could say a word she ended things. "We are over, Killian. I'm sorry, but I don't feel the same way that you do. You are suffocating me."
Just like that his life was over, or at least life as he knew it. She'd never loved him. The car pulled away and all he could do was drop to his knees. "I loved you, I wanted you to be my wife," he whispered into the silence that surrounded him. In that moment, his heart broke.
He dragged himself back home, and he allowed himself to breakdown. As time passed, one thought emerged, "Good guys finish last." He had been a model boyfriend and it had been for naught.
Killian Jones picked up the pieces of his shattered life, and when he started to put them back together, the sweet, idealistic, young, innocent man was no more. He focused on his studies, shut everyone out other than for physical intimacy here and there. He joined a gym, got a personal trainer. As he came into his looks, women flocked to him, and the more unavailable he seemed, the more they wanted him. He doggedly pursued his career in advertising, and his hyper focus, take no prisoners ideals got him to the top quickly. Over the years, Killian became a very different man, he'd evolved into a successful, irresistible, bachelor bad boy.
…
Dark tousled hair falls over his eyes as he sits up, rudely awoken by the loud noise emitted from the vacuum cleaner outside of his bedroom. His eyes are red from the lack of sleep after a late night of enjoyable activities.
"Bloody hell, don't you ever knock?" Killian throws his pillow at the offending woman now in his bedroom.
"I did, and besides you and I know that if I wasn't here to wake you, you would always be late for work." Granny Lucas temporarily turns off the vacuum and throws the pillow right back at his face.
"The only reason I put up with your attitude is because I love the way you cook." He gets up and stretches, unphased by Granny's presence.
"Don't get cranky with me! It's not my fault you went out drinking and who knows what else till all hours of the morning. Oh, and I don't like finding these stuffed in your sofa." Granny holds out a pair of red panties in his direction as she looks around the room to see what kind of mess is in there. She flings the trashy panties into the trash can and walks out without another word.
Standing in the middle of his large bedroom chuckling at Granny's outburst, he decides it's time to get ready for work. It is a special day after all. He will be getting that promotion he has been coveting.
Killian makes his way to the bathroom and takes a quick shower before trimming his beard and mustache. He almost forgets to put in some eye drops to hide his late night.
He dons an onyx black suit with a dark blue tie that matches his eyes, then smirks and winks to himself as he takes one last look at the mirror.
He knows his eyes are one of his finest assets, so he dresses to emphasize them, allowing them to draw an audience.
As he's exiting his building, he spots his door woman and smirks as she eyes him up and down. She smiles appreciatively at him and waves for a cab. Unbeknownst to Killian, as he walks towards the cab she appreciates his form and thinks, "Mmm hmm." She admired his form while he stood there completely unaware of the woman's thoughts.
He instructs the cab driver to make a quick stop at the local coffee shop, The Jolly Bean. He swaggers inside the small shop almost knocking over an unsuspecting pretty woman. Smiling, he backs up and holds the door for her. "I'm sorry love; I wasn't watching where I was going."
She looks up and meets those sea colored eyes. "Oh, it's fine; I was the one that should have been paying more attention."
"No darling, I'm happy taking the blame for this wonderful encounter. If it would have been any other way, perhaps we would have missed the opportunity of meeting. My name is Killian Jones." He holds her gaze and extends his hand.
Her eyelashes flutter as she gives him her hand. "My name is Haylee."
"It's very nice to meet you."
"Likewise, I'm sure." They continue with their light flirtation as she gives him her phone number and leaves.
He now realizes he has spent the last five minutes flirting instead of getting his coffee. He hopes the cab driver is still outside waiting for him. He walks up to the counter and smiles at the barista.
"Hello Killian, the usual?"
"Hello love, aye may I have an Americano, black, Grande."
She smirks and repeats his order to the trainee. "You said Grande correct?"
"Aye, would you like to confirm my size?" He waggles his eyebrows.
"Killian, I have told you before I'm not your type."
"Lila, if you truly want me to stop flirting with you, all you have to do is say the word."
She looks past him to the following customer, so Killian moves out of the way while waiting for a response.
"Hello, what can I get you today?"
The flustered man is about to answer but is interrupted by Killian. "This will just take a sec."
"Lila, love, an answer would be appreciated."
"Killian, please stop flirting with me. Look, even if I wanted to go out with you I can't, I'm trying to focus on my acting career. I go to auditions and then have to come here. To be honest, I don't need the distraction."
"I will stop as requested, but darling you look so tense. We could continue talking about this over dinner tonight, how about we meet here around 8:30 P.M.?"
"Oh, that sounds really nice."
"So it's a date?"
"Yes, it is, thank you."
The next customer in line is in awe at the scene before him.
Killian smiles at Lila as he grabs his coffee and winks her way.
"I'm sorry mate."
"No, it was worth it, that was inspiring."
"I know." Killian then pats his latest pupil on the shoulder and leaves the coffee shop.
Killian is thankful the taxi cab is still waiting for him, he'll reward him with a nice tip. He relaxes a bit as the taxi drives towards his office at one of the top five ad agencies in the city, Midas-Knightley.
The receptionist, Elaine is answering the phone as Killian crosses the lobby. He winks at her, and she becomes noticeably flustered.
When he exits the elevator at his floor, the always lively Will Scarlett is approaching him.
"Jones, did you hear?"
"Hello Scarlett, hear what?"
"Bacardi and BMW are looking for a new ad agency."
"Oh that, I know, I'm all over it."
They continue walking to Killian's office, enthralled in their small conversation.
"So what happened with the girl from last night? She excused herself because she had an early morning."
"Don't worry Scarlett, I had her in bed by eleven."
"Mate, you are a bloody genius, I don't know how you do it. And you must be excited about your promotion."
"I am extremely excited, and if you ask me I would say it is overdue. I have a meeting with George this morning."
"Let's have lunch at Wonderland to celebrate?"
"I have to decline; I have lunch plans with my brother and his wife. They've some big news they are dying to tell me."
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
A few favorites of mine...
Largely due to a post made recently by one of my Tumblr friends, I got to thinking about some of my OuaT fan fiction stories which have not been as widely read or commented, but which were still dear to me - or that I was proud of - in one way or another. Some of them are older and only on ff.net (which could be part of the problem, as I think I gained more readers when I joined Tumblr). Still, I thought I might make a post and detail what these lesser-read fics of mine were about and why they were special to me. Maybe I would find them a few more readers.
Here goes something... ;)
The first one on this list is a Ruby-centric one shot. Maybe because there’s not really a ship (at least not a still possible one?) even mentioned this has only ever received literally ONE comment, but I stubbornely feel I did a good job and enjoyed working on the characterization of a character I loved but don’t get as much opportunity to write for. It’s called “Always Running”.
The second one I’m going to mention is one of my favorites of all the fan fiction stories I have written. It’s a holiday story, and I was pretty proud of how I wove elements of A Christmas Carol into the OuaT world for Emma to come to an important realization of the heart. I wrote A LOT of fic in the break between 3a and 3b, and that’s the starting and ending time frame for this one: “Ghosts of Christmases Past”
“Villain’s Happy Ending” is another one that I have always been (maybe overly?) pleased with. I am always thrilled with any new review or mention it receives, and so I am adding it on here in the hopes of it gaining more. It’s also one of the first multi chapters I wrote for “Once” and one of my earliest attempts at some whump, before I really knew what that term was. This was also written while we were waiting for 3b, so the Wicked Witch is not necessarily true to Zelena at all - we hadn’t met her yet.
My next overlooked fic is the one shot I posted for Self Promo Sunday this past week. I was late getting it up though, and almost no one saw it. Granted there’s not a romantic pairing, so maybe that’s why it has such low readership, but I have always liked the friendship and the mother-son aspects I worked on in it. I also wrote it in a fit of missing Sheriff Graham - so there’s him in there too, if that’s your thing. (Hunted Believer and Swan Believer, no real romantic ships involved) It’s called “She’ll Be Back”.
“Cold as Stone” This one is a 3-parter that I wrote when we were anticipating the Snow Queen in 4a. It doesn’t end up being much like the Ingrid/Snow Queen we got (though I enjoyed her a lot), but it does incorporate the original fairy tale’s plot in a way that I thought was very intense and affecting for Captain Swan - plus there’s some action, some good Daddy!Charming and still present Ruby as added bonuses.
This little one shot was written around Halloween and fits into 5x02/5x03 area of the show’s timeline. I’ve just always been fond of it, though it’s a bit wistful and melancholy for sure. It also delves a bit more into the town doing more fun, normal, everyday things instead of just constantly fighting baddies, so there’s that, if you want to check out: “Still Here in Spirit”
“Got My Angel Now” is another one shot that I have always been fond of, for whatever reason. It’s Camleot set, though it goes divergent somewhere around “Siege Perilous” (5x03). Arthur is certainly still treacherous, but it takes a much different turn than it did in canon. There is some whump mentioned, but it’s really more the aftermath that we’re seeing - so hurt/comfort really (which is one of my many fic weaknesses!)
Oddly (for someone who doesn’t even like Halloween that much!) this is another Halloween-themed fic. I just really had fun writing this, highlighting fun, domestic and community things Captain Swan and friends might get into left free of monsters for a stretch of time at once. I especially enjoyed incorporating Belle, Henry and Violet into this prominently, and I’m hoping a few more folks might see it this time around: “Moonlit Ghosts”.
This next one is another MC, and it largely focuses on my favorite headcanon couple Liam and Belle. I shouldn’t act like it has no feedback at all; there around 30 comments on it on ff.net. But for how much work it was, I would love to have a few more folks discover it. it was a unique challenge to weave together more action, a divergent storyline from about 5x15 or 5x16, and to feature two characters that I don’t usually write (one being a person we have very little to go on). I was really pleased with the results, so I’m hoping someone else might enjoy. @hollyethecurious made me a GORGEOUS cover/picset for it a while back, so I’m going to shamelessly use it again here to lure you into “Looking for a Heart (that’s not walking away)”...
And last but not least, I’m going to mention my alternative take on the season six finale “Quietly Breaking, Breaking the Chains”. I was just so proud of this one, for lots of reasons, and I wonder how many people ever even saw or read it. It (I think) puts a lot more Captain Swan and Captain Cobra back into the finale, which I think it needed.
I’ll stop there, but hopefully a few of you will like this - tagging some friends who might have missed these: @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @kmomof4 @hollyethecurious @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @bmbbcs4evr @jennjenn615 @gingerchangeling @mayquita @charmingturkeysandwich @linda8084 @effulgentcolors @ilovemesomekillianjones @resident-of-storybrooke
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
Book Update
If you've noticed I've been updating my cs fics a lot lately, it's because I had to take a break from my original fic. And I've kind of been discouraged lately because when I worked on my first book, Follow My Lead, I got stuck for a whole year where I was unable to write one word for it. And I was afraid the same thing would happen for this one I'm work on. Last time, I wasn't able to push forward with the story until I scrapped the outline. So I didn't use an outline this time.
Then I got to thinking yesturday, maybe that's why I was stuck. Because each story will be different and will not always require the same process, for me at least. Some people can't write with outlines and some can't write without them. When I'm writing Cs, I normally don't need an outline because it comes so much easier to me because I'm already connected with the characters so the stories pretty much write themselves. But that's what I struggle with when writing original fics. So, for those of you who write or plan to write fics, either original or fanfic or anything with characters, it's very important to CONNECT with your characters first. It is essential and will save you a lot of time and energy and headaches, and will be much less stressful and mentally draining.
Anywho, what I'm trying to say is I started outlining for this and was able to get through the obstacles I had before. So to celebrate having a successful writing day for this book, I'd like to share a sneak peek.
In this sneak peek, I mention the rule of three and it's inspired by a conversation I had with people at work. Before someone pointed this out, I never realized how much we actually utilize the rule of three. Then I did some research and it turned out to be perfect for the chapter I'm writing.
Teaser
“I have to say, it’s refreshing to get to talk about the exhibits with someone.”
She looks at me with with an arched brow. “Oh? Why’s that?”
“Well, one, because I usually come here alone, and two, because when I came here with my ex, she had her face buried in her phone the entire time. So it was pretty much as if I went alone. Mind you, she was the one who suggested coming here. The only reason I never suggested it was because I thought she'd be bored.”
Her brows furrow, as though she’s baffled by this. “Why come to The Met just to be on your phone the entire time? That’s like going to Disney Land and waiting in the car. Or going to Universal Studios and not visiting the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.”
My eyes widen in excitement. “You’re a Harry Potter fan?”
She nods. “Are you kidding? My sister and I are diehards.”
"The books or movies?"
"Both."
I chuckle and wag a finger at her. “I knew I liked you.”
She laughs. “I'm no Seer, but I think a Harry Potter marathon might be in our future.”
“And The Stand?” I add.
“And The Big Bang.”
“Okay, fine,” I chuckle. “But aren’t there like twelve seasons?”
She nods matter of factly. “279 episodes to be exact.”
I scratch my head in uncertainty, not knowing if I can sit through that many episodes of a show I don’t really care for.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she laughs. “It’s a lot.”
“No, I’ll give it a try. Who knows, I might actually like the damn show.”
“You will, I promise.”
“Well, how about this - I’ll watch the first three episodes, and if I still don’t like it, I don't have to continue,” I suggest, certain I can sit through three episodes of pretty much anything.
“Okay, but why three? Won't you know whether you like it or not after the first episode?"
"Nope."
She narrows her eyes. "How can you be so sure?"
I shrug. “The rule of three.”
She cocks a brow. “Rule of three?”
“Yeah, we subconsciously apply it to most things in life, including the way we make decisions." When she looks at me like I just grew two heads, I expand. "The average person typically gives something or someone at most three chances before they've made up their mind about whether or not they'll stick with it. If we’re not hooked by the third joke of a standup show or the third chapter of a book or the third date with the same person, we're usually emotionally done with it at that point. As they say in baseball, three strikes you’re out."
She nods. "And third time’s a charm?"
I point a finger at her. "Exactly. If something isn’t successful after the first couple times, chances are it will be the third try. So if it's not successful after three, it’s not meant to be.”
She purses her lips in thought. “Huh, I never thought of the number three as an unspoken rule before.”
“Yeah, it works for a lot of things in life. Including survival. You can survive three minutes without breathable air or in icy water, you can survive three hours in a harsh environment, you can survive three days without drinkable water and you can survive three weeks without food. In the Marines, we lived by the rule of three when it came to survival tactics and completing tasks. Worrying about more than three things can be confusing or overwhelming. And regarding organizational structure, officers usually have fire teams of three or squads of three teams and so forth. You see trios in a lot of stories and movies, too - The Three Musketeers, Three little pigs, The Three Stooges. The Declaration of Independence has three main purposes and uses the phrase, Life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. There are a lot of other famous quotes that use clusters of three. Love, honor and obey. I came, I saw, I conquered. Stop, drop and roll. There are three meals a day, and three-course meals.” I pause when I realize I’m rambling. “I could go on, but I don’t want to bore you...if I haven’t already.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “No, not at all. It's interesting because you’re right; we do live by the rule of three.” She bites her bottom lip, pondering that thought for a moment. “So, do we usually apply that rule to sex, too? Like if the first three dates are successful, is that when a person makes up their mind to sleep with the other person?”
My cheeks heat and I chuckle, trying to ignore the nerves in my stomach. I definitely wasn't expecting that question. Certainly not from her. She just seems quiet, a little shy and kind of reserved. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised. This is the same woman who invited me into the ladies' room at the diner for a hot, steamy makeout session.
Fuck.
I have to shake the thoughts out of my mind, otherwise I'll be hard as a fucking rock until I drop her off. "Well, I can't speak for women, but I think men typically decide after the first date. Sometimes long before a first date is even established. Scratch that. Definitely before that."
A shy smile tugs at her lips as she looks away, her cheeks painted with an adorable shade of rosy red. “Sorry, it's just been a while since I've dated. My last boyfriend was my highschool sweetheart."
"Really?"
"Yeah, we started dating when we were both seventeen and were together for five years. I haven't dated anyone since we broke up."
"Wow. That is a long time. As far as your question goes, I don't know if the rule of three applies in this case, regardless of gender." I scratch my head nervously, trying to answer her without saying something stupid, but it's extremely hard when her question painted a very vivid picture in my mind.
Extremely hard, indeed.
"I mean, uh...it doesn't have to? That's up to you." I clear my throat, trying to get my thoughts straight. "The point I was making before was, if I don’t like The Big Bang Theory by the third episode, chances are I won’t like the rest of the series."
"Yeah, I get it now," she laughs.
@onceuponaprincessworld @teamhook @artistic-writer@ilovemesomekillianjones @hollyethecurious @gingerchangeling@ultraluckycatnd @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @snowbellewells @let-it-raines @wellhellotragic @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @sophiaaz @becausetheyrehappythisway @thislassishooked @hookedmom @resident-of-storybrooke @kateroselin @chamomileandmint @kday426 @sals86 @lawgeeks @yasbio2015 @xsajx @delightfully-difficult-pirate @wanderingjpg @squidvisious @tenaciouskittynight @biefaless @animatedshorts @lassluna @ejunkiet @melsbels @meat-pie-with-sauce @roseyflush @ivalane @tiganasummertree @nowforruin @qualitycoffeethings @nikkiemms @oncechicagolove @theonewiththeory @lostinwonderland314 @darkcolinodonorgasm @arshini01 @companion-mala @carpedzem @youareafeverdream @maguilar1028 @mayquita @courtorderedcake @shady-swan-jones @timeless-love-story @laschatzi @officerrogers @spartanguard @andiirivera @ouatpost @jarienn972 @winterbythesea @winterbaby89 @distant-rose @xhookswenchx
12 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
trumpets0ng
The Sim Design Junkie
7otel
Untitled
78windesign
78win design
kkencess
kencess
cowgirlkitten04
Cowgirlkitten's Hot Mess Closet