#csjj2021

[caught-in-the-filter]

Emma Was Cold

A Neverland smut fic for @neverlandnewyear​ and @csjanuaryjoy​

Summary: Emma Swan finds that Neverland nights get surprisingly cold. Luckily, Captain Hook has some experience in keeping warm.

4006 Words; Rated: E; AO3

A/N: This is basically Neverland PWP. It was inspired by something I commented in the CS Movie Marathon Discord a while back, and I never expected to actually write the thing myself. This is the first full smut fic I’m publicly posting with one of my urls attached, so I’m both excited and scared to share it. First, I need to give a huge shoutout to all the lovely people on the CSMM, CSNLNY, and CSJJ Discords for all their encouragement and assistance while I struggled to write this fic. Special shoutouts to @teamhook​, @kmomof4​, @hollyethecurious​, and @donteattheappleshook​ for reviewing bits of the doc for me as I went along and being super supportive, and especially to Maddie for also giving it a last minute full review once I finished it and helping me with edits. Also a big thank you to the mods for running these amazing events and for working together to allow us to cross-post between the two.

Alright, here we go....

——

“Are you alright, Swan?” Hook asked as he turned toward Emma to find her shivering where she lay a few feet away from him, his question prompted by the fact that he could actually hear the clacking sound of her teeth chattering.

“I’m f-fine,” Emma answered, curling further into herself as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms beneath the threadbare blanket that provided her with such little warmth. Who’d have thought Neverland would get so cold at night? She wished she’d worn more than a thin tank top, which served her well during the blazing heat of the day but offered no protection from the cool temperatures she faced now.

“Are you sure?” he prodded with a smirk, “If you’d like me to keep you warm, love, you need only ask. I’d be more than willing to—”

“I said I’m fine,” Emma snapped, “and I’m not your love.”

“Suit yourself.” Hook rolled back onto his side. ��Like everything else on this island, Neverland nights are not kind. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

——

Emma was cold, so cold that she couldn’t stop shaking despite her best efforts. Tensing only made it worse, but she just couldn’t relax either. She cursed herself under her breath, knowing she shouldn’t give in but desperate for the rest she knew she’d never find in such a state.

“Hook?” she whispered, padding over to where he lay apart from the rest, half hoping he would already be asleep.

“Hm?” He turned toward her once more, the smirk returning to his face and burning a hole right through her.

Emma wondered if the embarrassment that set fire to her cheeks would be enough to warm her, but she’d already gained his attention.

“Did you have a change of heart then, love?” Hook questioned. “Are you ready to warm up to me? Or with me, I should say.”

“Nevermind,” Emma rolled her eyes and stepped away from him in annoyance, hoping he couldn’t see her shivering.

“Swan—”

“No.”

“Swan, please look at me,” he pleaded, more softly than she’d have expected. She turned toward him impatiently, ready to go off on him if necessary, but found a gentle look in his eyes and let him continue.

“I may be a bit brash when it comes to making my interest known, Emma, but I assure you I am nothing if not a gentleman. Neverland is a cruel place and I would not wish to make it any more so. If we are to share warmth in a strictly practical manner, so be it.” He waved her over to him, his hooked arm outstretched in invitation to serve as her pillow. “You need rest, and I won’t let you freeze to death in your sleep before we rescue your boy.”

Emma approached him with caution, hesitating before she sat and turned her back to him as she rested her head on his arm. She wondered how he could sleep in that leather duster of his, but as he held her close, pressing his chest flush against her back but making a point to turn his hips away from her, and draped the thick material of the coat over her as well, she realized just how comfortable it actually was. She wouldn’t admit to the sudden and surprising sense of calm that washed over her as she settled next to him, but in the unexplainable safety, it didn’t take long before she was sound asleep.

——

Though it was still dark when she awoke, Emma felt as refreshed as if she’d had a full night’s sleep, a feeling and a feat she hadn’t achieved in a very long time. She huffed out a breath with a roll of her eyes when she realized she’d been pinned by Hook’s other arm which curled loosely around her middle. He must have turned in his sleep, somehow gently enough to not wake her. Her instincts said to shove him away, but he had been decent enough to respect her boundaries in his offer. And, after all, she was much warmer this way, which was the whole point of moving closer together.

He suddenly shifted in his sleep again, and Emma gasped when she felt his clothed warmth brush against her denim-clad ass. Wait, was he actually hard?! Before she could stop herself, Emma let out an involuntary moan when he rubbed against her again and she immediately froze, wide-eyed and praying he didn’t hear her as all the heat they’d shared travelled south, save for that which reddened her cheeks. After a moment had passed without a reaction from him, she allowed herself to relax again, only to be suddenly pulled closer to him.

“Sounds like you liked that, Swan?” Hook remarked and rolled his hips ever so slightly. She could sense the shit-eating grin returning to his smug face.

Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he did it again before she responded, “Please, you couldn’t handle it,” and returned the motion, surprising him with the unexpected reciprocation.

“I do love a challenge. But tell me something, love,” he said, his hand traveling down towards her waistband, passing over the zipper and slipping between her thighs as his lips hovered over her neck and his hot breath seared her flesh, “can you handle staying quiet?” He lifted her leg and draped it over his own, giving himself the space to cup her through her jeans. “Everyone else is still asleep, and in any case it’s still too dark to journey on.” He placed a kiss just below her ear and continued, his voice a low growl just above a whisper, “Just say the word, I can help you ease your mind for a while.” The corner of his lips twitched upward as he teasingly flexed his fingers against her and added, “And the ache you might be feeling, if that moan were any indication.”

Emma silently cursed herself for letting that sound escape from her lips, and once more for what she knew she was about to give in to so quickly. He was right, she could use a distraction from her racing mind now that she was more awake again, and he was a damn tempting one. Her breath hitched when he caught her earlobe between his teeth and tugged, eliciting another soft moan from deep within her, and her decision was made.

“Yes.”

“Yes what, love?” he asked, nosing down her neck until his mouth latched onto the space between it and her shoulder, nipping and sucking her flesh and laving over it with his tongue.

“Yes, I can stay quiet.” Her hand reached up to find purchase in his hair, encouraging him to continue his claim of her collarbone. “Yes, I want you to ease my… well, everything.” He chuckled at that, the vibration of his laughter against her skin sending a chill down her spine.

“As you wish.” Hook wasted no time popping the button on Emma’s jeans, pulling down the zipper, and slipping his hand beneath the denim. “Oh?” He said, his eyebrow raised in wonder at the soft, thin material covering his goal. He rubbed his fingers over it, feeling her arousal soaking through it as he teased her. “You certainly do.” Hook pushed her panties aside and sank two fingers inside her.

“Ohh fuck,” Emma choked back another moan, the sinful sounds as he plunged them into her dripping core again and again filling the air instead. His rings bit into her skin with every thrust, the cool metal a jarring, yet welcome counter to the hot friction they were creating. She rocked her hips to meet him each time, and his breathing grew ragged as he rutted himself against the curve of her ass in synchrony. As Emma’s movements grew frantic, Hook’s slowed to a stop, and Emma groaned in protest when he removed his fingers from inside her, dragging them through her folds to brush her clit for just a moment.

“Not yet, Swan.” Hook carefully slipped his arm out from beneath her head and gently turned her towards himself so that she lay on her back. Getting to his knees and stripping off his duster, he knelt between her spread legs. “I’m a fan of every part of you, and I intend to show you just how much of a fan I am.” 

He slipped his hooked arm beneath her tank only to find his access to her breasts blocked by another bit of material. Lifting the top to reveal the offending garment, he looped his prosthetic beneath it, the tip of the hook scraping against her skin as he did, and tugged. He noted that the small scrap of fabric differed from the corsets he was used to removing from women he’d bedded in the past but assumed it would be no less easy to snap than the laces he’d encountered on them.

“Hey!” Emma caught his wrist before he could succeed in his efforts. “I need this! Let me just….” She sat up for a moment to take off her tank top and undo the clasps at her back so she could toss her bra aside. “There.”

“Apologies, love,” Hook said, “and thank you.” He guided her back down with his hand just beneath her now exposed breast, thumbing at her tightening nipple as his mouth tended to the other. “Bloody magnificent, these are,” he mumbled against her as he teased them to stiff peaks. Emma tried to relax as the throbbing between her legs became almost unbearable and she longed for more friction to soothe it.

When he was at last satisfied, Hook released her nipple from his mouth with a resounding pop, flicked it a few times with the curve of his hook for good measure, and gave the same treatment to the other, relishing the way she squirmed beneath him as he nibbled and sucked and kneaded.

Emma gasped when the cold air rushed over her wet skin as Hook finished with her breasts and slid his body lower between her legs, trailing sloppy kisses down her abdomen along the way until he reached the top of her jeans.

Glancing up at her, he kept his eyes on hers as he gently tucked his fingers and hook just under the edge of her waistband.

“May I?” he asked, waiting for her approval to proceed.

“Yes,” she answered, “god, yes.” He grinned at that and very slowly tugged her jeans down her legs, distracted by the view of the place where his hand had been, covered only by the thin strip of fabric that had grown damp beneath his touch, pausing for a moment to slip off her boots when he reached them before removing the denim completely.

“You,” Hook said as he took in the sight of her almost completely naked form, “are absolutely stunning, Swan.” He scanned her body a moment longer, watching the blush spread over her cheeks and across her chest as she flushed pink under his desirous scrutiny. He nosed along the creases of her thighs and up the material that hid his goal before taking the top hem between his teeth, pulling it down until it hung from his mouth and letting it fall beside her on the blanket beneath them.

Fuck, that was hot, Emma thought to herself as she watched him lower his head and raise his hungry gaze to hers. The smirk on his face made her wonder for a moment if she had actually said it out loud.

Any concern she had about her comment was swept away as he gently flattened his tongue against her slick flesh, never breaking eye contact as he slowly licked an inquisitive stripe along her folds, dipping it between them just enough to pass over her clit before departing. The shiver that passed through her whole body at the contact was enough to make him do it twice more before diving in as deep as he could and mapping her inner walls with his tongue. He mumbled soft praises as he worked her—“Delicious…. Exquisite…. Divine….”—without ever fully pulling away to say them, too lost in the taste of her, as if he couldn’t get enough and didn’t want to lose even a drop of her essence. Soon he found the spot that made her hips buck and her thighs pull together, pressing against the sides of his head, and he reintroduced his fingers inside her as he licked at the spot relentlessly, knowing she grew ever closer to her release.

His scruff raked against her skin as her legs locked around him, her heels digging into his back, and she knew the raw streaks of raised red would burn later as they continued through Neverland on foot. But with the way he was making her feel in that moment, she figured it would be worth it.

The shaking overtook her suddenly and her back arched as he gave a particularly strong suck on her clit, and she came as he continued to fuck her with his hand and mouth. He reached up to silence her by pressing the curve of his hook to her lips as an overwhelmed cry caught in her throat. Taking the prosthetic into her mouth, she gently bit down on it and laved over it with her tongue to distract herself from the way he tended to her dripping core in kind. He lapped at her entrance until her waves of pleasure receded and she relaxed against the blanket, their chests heaving in an attempt to catch their breaths. He crawled over her body, hovering above her looking absolutely wrecked before he’d even been touched, his chin glistening with her release and his eyes blown wide with insatiable desire.

Their mouths crashed together and he laced his fingers through her golden locks while her hands anchored in the hair at the nape of his neck. She tasted herself on him as she traced his lips with her tongue and opened hers in invitation for his further exploration.

“You, my wanton lass, are far from quiet.” Hook attacked Emma’s lips with his own, her false rebuttal lost before it could be voiced as his tongue dipped between them and pulled her bottom lip between his teeth upon its retreat.

Emma hadn’t seen him reach for the panties he’d discarded next to her earlier until he pulled away and sat back on his haunches as he replaced his tongue with the wet scrap of material.

“Any other time, I’d love nothing more than to hear how I make you feel, but given the circumstances…,” he trailed off with a glance in the direction of their slumbering company not too far away, before returning his gaze to Emma with a smirk. “Luckily, there are ways to assist you.” He leaned over her once more to whisper in her ear, “Perhaps another time we can meet on my ship, sail far from the shore, just the two of us, and I’ll make you produce all manner of sounds for only me to hear. Hm?”

If he were expecting an answer, Emma couldn’t give him one. She told herself this was a one-time thing, just a way to blow off some steam and clear her head before the next long stretch of their journey through this land of mysterious horrors she wished she’d never have had to encounter like this. She wished Neverland could have stayed a story, though she wouldn’t admit out loud that she did prefer this real version of the fearsome Captain Hook.

Well, that and she now had a mouthful of cotton.

Emma watched as he unlaced his trousers, and she found herself unable to look away when he took himself in hand and passed the tip of his cock along her folds, aligning himself with her entrance before he stopped.

“Swan?” Hook said, bringing her out of her distracted stupor and calling her attention to his searching eyes, all of his bravado gone and replaced with a serious, patient tone. “Emma, are you sure?”

She hadn’t expected him to ask again, and that consideration for her wishes she hadn’t often encountered, paired with his rare use of her first name, only increased her desire to say yes. Unable to actually speak it, she held his gaze, hoping hers looked just as soft, and gently brushed her fingers down his cheek before she trailed them down his arms and gripped his hips with an encouraging nod.

Emma bit down hard on her makeshift gag and her head lolled back as he slowly sheathed himself inside her, the stretch burning in the best way with every inch as her body responded to his entrance with slick heat until he was fully seated within her. The feel of her around him took his breath away, and Hook braced himself on his elbows at either side of her as his head fell forward next to hers and he panted over her shoulder.

“Gods, you’re fucking perfect,” Hook whispered in her ear through gritted teeth. He finally began to move, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as he pulled back and slid home again and again. She pivoted her hips to meet him with each thrust, feeling a euphoric fullness every time she took him in deep that left her softly whimpering in protest upon his retreats.

It was too much and not enough and just right all at once. Emma’s hands slipped beneath Hook’s shirt and she raked her nails up and down his back before digging them into his flesh as she scrabbled for purchase to steady herself beneath him, and to draw him ever closer to her.

Her mouth grew dry as the material between her teeth absorbed what little moisture wasn’t being expelled from her body in arousal and sweat. She wanted to kiss him, but even if she could, his mouth was otherwise engaged, sucking a mark into the side of her neck before tonguing at the hollow of her throat on its way to brand her collarbone. She couldn’t be bothered to care if anyone would see the evidence of his claim, not while he was giving her nothing but pleasure as his hips snapped with purpose.

“Come for me, Emma.” Hook’s fingers returned to her clit to circle and tease it as they both neared their releases. “Let me feel you come on my cock.” He groaned louder than he meant to when her hands cupped his ass through his trousers. “I won’t last much longer, love.”

He almost lost it when she gripped him tighter and nodded with a downward glance before meeting and holding his gaze.

“Fuck, Emma,” he breathed, a lightheadedness overtaking him as everything inside him tensed and he slammed into her with abandon. Looping his hook under the edge of her panties that peeked out from between her lips, he tugged the material to remove it without wasting time to toss it aside, letting it drape over his prosthetic as he filled her mouth with his tongue instead in a hot slide.

“Killian,” she moaned in a whisper against his eager lips, finally able to speak to some extent as he ravished both her mouth and her aching core.

“What?” He said in breathless surprise, unsure of whether he’d heard her correctly or imagined it with his own pulse pounding in his head, his hungry and frantic eyes flitting from side to side as they searched hers. A soft smile spread across his face. That was the first word she’d spoken, not even his more colorful moniker she’d been accustomed to using, but—

“Killian,” she called him by his name again, feeling that same dizzy high he felt as she rocked forward into him. “Yes. Yes.”

Something inside him snapped, and he muffled his pleasured cries against her lips as he poured himself inside her, relentlessly thumbing at her clit to bring her to release. A rush of heat spread through her body as his cock pulsed inside her, and her walls fluttered around him as she rose and fell with him.

He pulled back for a moment and caught the thick whitish fluid that dripped from her core with the tip of his cock before pushing it deeper inside her with a desperate grunt until they both finally slowed their movements to a stop.

“That was—” Hook, the man full of innuendos, fell speechless as he carefully held himself above her, propped up on his elbows, and let his forehead drop to hers as he panted with hot breath over her lips.

A one-time thing, Emma wanted so badly to say, but she had trouble even believing herself then. The way he made her feel, the way she knew he felt, the way they felt together. None of it felt like a one-time thing. She knew what those were, but this right here with him, this could be so much more. And it both thrilled and terrified her.

“I know,” she said instead, trying desperately to process everything that had just happened, and everything she might have wished would happen in the future, if they’d have a future at all. Would they?

She subtly shook her head in an attempt to clear it and pulled him to her for another kiss before she lifted her panties off his hook and pressed her other hand to his chest where it was exposed by the low neckline of his shirt and vest, following his body with hers as she guided him back so she could sit upright. Flattening the material over her palm, she passed it between her folds and stared into the depths of his ocean blue eyes as she rubbed the damp cotton over his wet cock, making his jaw drop as his breath hitched in his throat.

“We can’t leave a mess, now can we?” Emma smirked. Pumping him with her covered hand, she took his cock into her mouth, and he hissed when she passed her tongue over the tip and groaned around him at the taste as it leaked a bit more of his release.

“Gods, Emma,” Hook stuttered as he leaned back on his hand for support before he stilled her by catching her wrist with his hook, and she released him with a soft pop and a mischievous smirk as she looked up at him. “Keep doing that, love, and there’s going to be a much more obvious tell.”

“Fine,” she conceded with a sigh, getting to her feet and slipping on her wrecked panties with a taunting wiggle of her hips as she pulled them up under the weight of his entranced gaze until he realized he’d been staring and cast his eyes toward the ground. She’d probably feel it later, the sweltering heat of the Neverland sun bound to leave her feeling stickier than its induced sweat already would, but knowing he’d know that his effects on her would be keeping her wet long after they’d finished their more enjoyable activities… well, her own potential discomfort would be a cross she’d be willing to bear without regret.

She continued to get dressed, and he gave her the decency of turning his back to her as she did and as he righted himself as well, an admittedly unnecessary gesture after the rather indecent act they’d just committed together, but oddly endearing nonetheless.

“Here, love,” Hook picked up his duster and held it open in offering for her to wear, but she waved him off with a smile.

“I’m okay now, thanks. It suits you better anyway. And besides,” Emma winked at him, “I think I prefer sharing it.”

Hook swirled it around himself with a dramatic flair to put it on, tucked his hand and hook in the pockets, and reached out to enwrap Emma in the heavy leather with him, eliciting a giggle as he held her close.

She certainly wasn’t cold anymore.

[csjanuaryjoy]

CSJJ 2021:  Final Roundup!

Week One!

 always feel like part of this was mine by @ohmightydevviepuu​​

 Beautiful by @thesschesthair

 good ships and wood ships and ships that sail the sea by @profdanglaisstuff

Home (there and back again - a Saviour’s tale) by @katie-dub and @anxioussquirrel

“Cuddles”, a painting by @svenjaliv

“Whatever the Weather (You Make Everything Better)” by @snowbellewells

“Could This Be Us?” by @killiansprincss​

Week Two!

A Quiet Moment by @onceratheart18​

Exactly Where I Was Meant to Be by @stahlop

Written in the Stars by @klynn-stormz

till the summer comes again by @demisexualemmaswan

the monsters turned out to be just trees by @spartanguard

Neverland artwork from @carpedzem

spots and splashes by @killianjones-twopointoh

Week Three!

Kittens for Quarantine by @delightfully-difficult-pirate

a new land of untold stories in artwork by @mariakov81

Sowing Seeds of Trust by @jrob64

if you carry the torch (i’ll follow the light) by @beyourlifeline

Puzzle Pieces picsets by @resident-of-storybrooke

love languages by @captain-emmajones

A New Game Plan by @onthecyberseas

home by @thisonesatellite

Week Four!

Emma Was Cold by @caught-in-the-filter

Papa’s Socks by @xhookswenchx​

Like Me For Me by @pirateherokillian

let’s rest for a while, ‘til our souls catch us up by @scientificapricot

Happy New Beginnings by @killianslefthook

Seeking Shelter, Seeking Solace by @shireness-says

Vulnerable by @ohmakemeahercules

A Few Nice Words by @reggieshamster

The Darkness by @carpedzem

A Happy Ending (well, that depends on where you start) by @lassluna​

Thank you so much to all of our authors and artists for your incredible work!  Thank you to our cheerleaders and beta readers and everyone who popped into the server to say hello!!  Thank you to our mod team, @katie-dub​, @pirateherokillian​, @lassluna​ and @ohmightydevviepuu​.  We hope that this amazing collection of art and fic helped bring you some January Joy.  🎉💖😘

[captain-emmajones]

love languages

Here is my contribution for CSJJ. Big thanks to @csjanuaryjoy​ for organizing this, to the CSJJ discourse server and its wonderful ladies, to @carpedzem​ for cheering me on always and to @profdanglaisstuff​ for beta'ing this <3

Post 4x11. During the six weeks of peace. It all starts with Mary Margaret reading a stupid article about love languages at breakfast, and before she knows it, Emma finds herself asking Hook his as they are stargazing by the docks.

Canon Compliant -- Fluff -- Banter -- Missing Scene -- Ao3 -- 1,5k words.

A veil of mist hangs low in this January night sky; it dances around a crescent moon wreathed in a halo of silver light. The moon is peering at the scene, down below, by Storybrooke’s harbour.

And what a scene, my dear...

Two figures dressed in warm clothes are sitting on a bench, wrapped up in one of those large checkered blankets that they share; the taller one seems resolute on examining the stars in the night sky, brows furrowed in a focused expression and fingers clenched around a spyglass.

That is quite unfortunate, thinks the moon, for the clouds are impish that night and stubbornly hide their secrets. His companion sits cross-legged at his side, one hand cupping her chin, eyes set on the man’s silhouette and the moon wonders what could possibly be so interesting on this man’s face for the woman not to look up at her.

There is a shift then, in the woman’s composure, and the moon sees one gentle hand grab the man’s arm as a cloud of white smoke escapes her lips.

The moon winces; she knows the silence is about to be shattered.

“Hey, what’s your love language?”

This stupid question has been on the tip of Emma’s tongue all day, tingling and burning, and Mary Margaret and the article she read aloud at breakfast are entirely to blame for it.

Emma is lucky that the rum they drank at dinner with her parents is still coloring their cheeks red, and that a flame seems to be licking up her throat, because it is a delicious burn and saves her the embarrassment.

“Sorry. Say that again, Swan?”

He does not turn around. As something mischievous stands up in Emma’s chest and pouts, Emma wants to groan that there will be no stars to be seen tonight. How dare he not pay attention to her when she let herself be lured by his talks of “star-gazing”?

Instead, she admires the hint of red coloring the apple of his cheeks and the wisps of breath he exhales calmly through his nose.

“I mean, what makes you feel loved?” she asks again, and she tries to sound more annoyed than she actually is.

Which is, actually, not at all, but he most absolutely does not need to know that.  

The expected result occurs as he swiftly shifts to gaze at her, his blue eyes flashing in the dimness, and that sinful tongue licks a pattern across his lips.

“Swan, are you drunk?” he teases, smirking a bit, but with a lot of tenderness.

She chuckles as he clicks his telescope shut without breaking their gaze.

Her legs do feel heavy as lead, and her head deceptively light as a cloud, but that she won’t tell him, not on any account.

“Am not.” And if Emma’s head lolls to his side, terribly tempted by his welcoming shoulders, it must be because of gravity or something.

But she does not cave in, and she raises her eyes to see his entire face crinkling up in a delightful, devilish way and Emma wishes she could kiss each little spot of skin the moon dabbles light on.

“Yes, you are. Should have watched you and Mary Margaret’s cocktails.”

While Emma does think there is something to be said about her mother’s cocktails, she still rolls her eyes and frowns, even as stubborn laughter keeps bubbling up inside her throat and is making it difficult to keep a straight face. “Just answer the question!” And her fist gently bumps against his shoulder for good measure.

He dramatically sighs next to her, one eyebrow quirking up in that peculiar way that makes her toes curl, and she hates him for it but she also wishes that he may never stop.

“...What was the question again?”

She exhales a groan of discontent. “Killian!”

“Emma?”

Another groan. He will be the death of hers. “Your love language! What is it?”

“My love language, you ask? Well, mmmh, let me think.” And as he pretends to ponder, tapping his fingers against his red, red lips, tap, tap, tap, Emma finds herself leaning towards him, against her will, magnetized.

But she catches herself and proceeds to frown harder, hand closing around the cold wooden bench instead of the lapel of his coat. They are trying to have a conversation, for fuck’s sake.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and Emma blinks because she cannot stop looking at his mouth.

“Ah. But Swan, we have a problem.”

“Do we?”

His lips, over hers, now. Forever, preferably. The delicate shadow dropped by his eyelashes onto his cheekbones is infuriating.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, although I am familiar with many languages, I’ve never heard of that love language theory of yours.”

It’s a miracle she hears anything he’s saying.

“It’s not my theory,” she mumbles right back, and she can tell by the lovely, lovely sparkles in his blue eyes that it is exactly the reaction he wanted out of her.

“Care to explain it either way?”

She thinks she shakes her head then. He is annoying. This is far more than she ever signed up for. She just wanted to tease him, and now she is the one being teased. Truly a terrible turn of events. That doesn’t mean she can control the smile that tickles her lips.

“Well,” she clears her throat, straightens her back, tries to appear very serious, “there are five traditional love languages.”

“Yes,” he encourages her, smiling widely, “I’m all ears, Swan.”

Her cheeks hurt from all of the smiling. It’s okay. He and his stupid big blue eyes are worth it.

“Well, first, there are words of affirmation, like a loved one telling you they are proud of you or that they lo--...you know what I’m saying.”

I’m a fan of every part of you, Swan.

And the thing is, she hears herself utter the words, and she does think that she does not sound like herself at all -- talking about love languages with Captain Hook -- but also Killian and she have been dating for the last couple of months now and this isn’t like anything she’s ever done before and maybe it isn’t so bad.

“Interesting. Do go on.”

In fact, it cannot even be remotely bad when he keeps staring at her like this, as if she is really precious and important and he cares or something.

“Then there’s quality time, like feeling loved when you’ve spent a precious and unique moment with a loved one.”

Right now, we have a quiet moment.

“Mmm, I see.”

“And then there are acts of service, and that goes without explanation.”

I knew Bae as a boy. Perhaps I could talk to the boy. It would help him come to terms with his father’s passing. And me.

“Fair enough.”

“Then there are gifts, of course --”

“Like the rose I offered you on our first date?”

“-- like the rose you offered me on our first date --,” she repeats. Before a bucket of cold water is spilled on top of her head as she realizes what he’s just said and what she’s just agreed with.

It’s a good thing the street light above their head is doing a poor flickering job because by the time Emma has pondered her own words and has reflected on how naturally Killian said that last line, well, she’s flushed a bright red.

He doesn’t mean that he, that they, that she...does he?

An alarm rings inside Emma’s head. Beware! Slippery slope of feelings ahead!

And instead of thinking one second more about this, Emma heaves a quiet breath, blinks, and exhales sharply: “-- yeah and the like.” As she looks up, she notices Killian’s smug grin.  

And something very soft, in his eyes, something very soft and terrifying.

“What’s the last one?” he asks in a husky whisper as swirls of white vapor escape his mouth to kiss Emma’s lips.

She gulps. Exhales. “Physical touch.”

By the time she says the words, he is hovering dangerously close to her, and his hand is slipping into her hair, curling around the base of her neck, and the tingles it diffuses all over her skin are simply illegal.

“Like that?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

She nods, lips tight, unable to breathe. What is he doing to her?

“Like that, yeah.” And if her voice is hoarse, the ocean breeze isn’t the only one to blame.

His fingers slowly abandon her hair to find her lips, and he presses them, gently, above her open mouth and Emma’s hands have found his arms without her consent.

And just as he dives towards her, heart pounding, courage roars inside of her and she dares ask once again: “So?”

It makes him stop, gaze seriously at her, eyes open wide. She swallows again.

“So, what?” he answers, and he almost sounds angry.

The lust she sees dancing in his eyes tightens each of her muscles.

“What’s your love language?” she repeats, bites her lower lip.

She isn’t flinching. She started this. She wants to win.

He smiles, fingers caressing down her neck to find her collarbone, and although she shudders she feels victory stretch her lips.

“I’m a pirate, love. I don’t choose between treasures. I take them all.”

As if to seal his words, his mouth hungrily finds hers, and he drinks her breath, and Emma lets herself be defeated in her heart only, but surely not aloud.

[jrob64]

Sowing Seeds of Trust (Sneak Peek)

Here’s a sneak peek from the first chapter of my new story. I have six chapters ready to post, which I plan to start doing by the end of January. 

Story Summary: Emma Swan is a young woman without a family, friends, a home, and now a boyfriend after he tries to pin his crime on her. When she goes looking for help from a local charity at a church, she ends up meeting a group of people, including a handsome blue-eyed man, who offer her friendship...and a whole lot more. 

Thank you to the moderators of CSJJ. I look forward to this event every year, and I’m thrilled to be a part of it for the first time!

Thanks also to my wonderful beta @hookedmom​; @xsajx​, who has been a second reader to make sure everything is consistent; @kmomof4​, for her feedback on the pic set; & the ladies on Discord for all the helpful work sprints. 

And here’s a sneak peek for the pic set I created for this story (which includes a picture of my own dog, Zeke!) You’ll see it at the top of every chapter.

*********

Emma Swan stuck her thumbs under the worn straps of her backpack and heaved a sigh, then murmured, “They’re not gonna help you, Emma. Why would they?” She had a habit of talking to herself, since she had no one else to whom she could talk. At nineteen years of age, she had no family, no home, no real friends and now, no boyfriend. 

When the possession of stolen property charges against her were dropped due to lack of evidence, the officer who had originally arrested her recommended a charity organization run by the church which was across the street from where she was currently standing. He had realized that she would be on her own since Neal was incarcerated for stealing a car, and told her that she’d be able to get a little food and some warmer clothing here. She couldn’t really risk shoplifting so soon after being released from jail, so she decided to take his advice. 

She was glad that witnesses had come forward to say she hadn’t been the one to actually break into the car and hot-wire it, which contradicted the statement Neal had made. The look on his face when he accused her of being the thief to try to clear himself, told her that he’d been lying when he said he loved her. She’d been stupid enough to believe him, and to fall in love with him too, and now she’d gotten her heart broken. 

She should have known better than to put her trust in him. All her life, she’d paid the price for trusting the wrong people. Now, as she rubbed her fingers over the swan key fob she wore on a chain around her neck - the one Neal had stolen for her - she strengthened her resolve to build the walls higher around her heart. 

She stood on the sidewalk for a few more minutes, watching the people outside the church bustling about. They were all dressed simply in jeans and hoodies, but she could still tell that she didn’t have much in common with any of them. 

She shivered and yanked the cuffs of her own worn and faded sweatshirt down over her knuckles. Even in North Carolina, it was chilly in early November. 

“Are you here to help?” a voice asked, causing Emma to jump. The person who had spoken was standing right beside her and took her by surprise. She was usually very aware of her surroundings and other people who happened to be in them.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!”

She turned to look at the owner of the deep, accented voice and found herself face-to-face with a very good-looking man who appeared to be just a few years older than herself.

He smiled kindly and offered his hand. “Killian Jones, at your service. I assume you’re here to volunteer?”

She eyed his hand warily, then finally reached forward to briefly shake it, barely touching it as she did. “I...I was just...w-watching,” she stuttered. Then an idea crossed her mind - maybe if I volunteer, they’d be more likely to help me. “Um, would it be okay if I did?”

His grin got wider. “Of course, we can always use more help! Let me show you around, Miss…”

Emma hesitated for a moment. She didn’t usually like people to know her name, but if she was going to be working with him, she’d have to give it sooner or later. “Uh, Emma. Emma...Swan.”

“Okay, Swan. Come with me.” He walked on ahead of her, and she fell into step behind him.

Killian strode up to a petite woman with short dark hair. “Hey, M’s! This is Emma Swan. She’s here to volunteer today.” He turned to Emma. “This is Mary Margaret Blanchard. She’s the organizer here and she’ll give you your assignment.”

“Hi Emma, it’s nice to meet you! I’m so happy you’re here!” Her smile was wide and genuine. 

“Uh, thanks,” she said uncertainly. 

“Where’s Dave?” Killian asked. 

“He’s on the other side of the building, helping set up the pet adoption area. I’m sure he could use some help.” 

“Right, then. I’d better go show him how to do it!” he chuckled. “See you at lunch, M's. You too, Swan.” He turned and headed around the side of the church. 

“Um, lunch?” Emma asked. “We get lunch?”

“Of course! We can’t let you work here all day without feeding you!” Mary Margaret assured her.

Emma subconsciously licked her lips. She hadn’t had much to eat since she was released from jail two days ago. Actually, she hadn’t really minded being incarcerated for eleven days. At least she’d had a cot to sleep on and three meals a day. 

“What made you decide to volunteer today?” Mary Margaret asked, tapping Emma’s name into an iPad. 

“Oh, uh, someone told me that you do good charity work here, and I just...I thought it would be nice to help,” Emma lied, not wanting them to know that she was the one who needed help.

*********

Please let me know your thoughts, and if you’d like to be tagged or taken off the tag list when I start posting. 

Tagging: @csjanuaryjoy​ @katie-dub​ @ohmightydevviepuu​ @lassluna​ @pirateherokillian​ @hookedmom​ @xsajx​ @kymbersmith-90​ @kmomof4​ @teamhook​ @stahlop​ @elizabeethan​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @therooksshiningknight​ @jennjenn615​ @lfh1226-linda​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @killianswannn​ @stories-enchanted​ @eleveneitherway​ @girl-in-a-tiny-box​ @withheartfulloflove​ @kday426​ @lyssapup27​ @swanlovato​ @kaoslikesstuff @djlbg​ @kristi555​ @laschatzi​ @xarandomdreamx​ @lkles08​ @wyntereyez​ @bubblegum1425​ @xhookswenchx​ @yasbio2015​ @tiganasummertree​ @winterbaby89​ @winterbythesea​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @hollyethecurious​ @let-it-raines​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @searchingwardrobes​ @dreamingdreamsalways​ @oncechicagolove​ @andiirivera​ @vvbooklady1256​ @gingerchangeling​ @everything-person​ @klynn-stormz​ @qualitycoffeethings​ @vampcoffeegyrl23​ @enchanted-swans​ @cassy1511 @ohmakemeahercules​ @donteattheappleshook​ @bluewildcatfanatic​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @demisexualemmaswan​ @lavenderbudd​ @grimmswan​ @spartanguard​ @flslp87​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @sarahpaq08​ 

[demisexualemmaswan]

till the summer comes again

Summary:  “I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.”- Lewis Carroll Emma has been dating Killian for two years, and since then their family unit has only gotten closer. But that could change with the arrival of Eloise Gardner, Killian’s ex. Oh, and has Emma mentioned she’s pregnant? Not exactly. A sequel to six impossible things before breakfast. 

[Read on Ao3] A/N: It is 10:40pmEST on my posting date for @csjanuaryjoy​ and here I am getting this right under the wire. I did not intend to be posting this late, nor did I necessarily intend to write a sequel for a fic that I wrote two years ago and quite frankly had no intention of continuing. But here we are.  At any rate: enjoy this CS January Joy fic!  --

Pregnant.

Emma stared at it for what felt like a minute, and then looked at the other one just to be sure.

Pregnant.

And then she picked up the third one just to be safe.

Pregnant.

A veritable tempest of very conflicting emotions all swirled within her. Joy. Excitement. Nervousness. Dread. Fear.

She nearly grabbed her phone to text Killian to tell him right away, but a wave of nausea was stronger than all of it and she put her head in the toilet. “Seriously?” she complained, her hand curling protectively over her stomach. “Your brother Henry wasn’t like this, you know,” she admonished softly.

“Emma?” A hesitant knock sounded at the door, and the timid voice of Alice, Killian’s daughter, wafted in gently. “Emma, are you sure you’re okay? I’m sure Papa wouldn’t mind just bringing some Granny’s home if you wanted to stay in. I could make you some tea while we wait.”

Emma closed her eyes and considered her options as she kept her head pressed against the cool porcelain. On the one hand, staying at home sounded nice. On the other, Henry and Alice cherished family dinner night at Granny’s. They would certainly be flexible if Alice’s concern was anything to go by. But Emma knew that with the teen years on the horizon, they would only get so many more of these together.

“Emma?” Alice repeated.

“Mom?” Henry’s voice joined Alice’s.

“There is no need to get the Spanish inquisition together,” she told them, sitting up. “Something’s not sitting right with me, but I’ll get some soup at the diner and it’ll be fine.”

“Why don’t we go to the diner, make the order to go and then bring it back?” Henry suggested. “That way Mom doesn’t have to sit so long but we can still go!”

“I’ll text Papa!” Alice said excitedly, and Emma heard the thump of her footsteps as she sprinted away from the bathroom door.

Emma just smiled affectionately, even though neither of her kids could see her. She had to stop that thought for a moment, reflecting on how much had changed in the past two years. Ever since that fateful incident with the bullies, she and Killian had worked and built a relationship and a life together.

They’d bought a bigger apartment together, although with two almost teenagers and now a baby on the way she’d have to reconsider her whole living situation and maybe they’d have to buy a house.

She loved the life that she and Killian built so far. He was attentive, caring, and so good with Henry. And she’d come to love Alice’s tender heart, her creativity, and her sweet tooth. Though she hadn’t articulated this to Alice or Killian yet, admittedly too afraid to break the contentment she finally experienced for the first time in her life.

Emma knew, logically, that both Alice and Killian’s hearts were big enough that this would only strengthen things and not break them, but the little lost girl that lived in Emma’s brain loved to remind her of Neal at every opportune moment and stop her from feeling secure in her relationship.

She was working on this. With Archie every week. Sometimes Killian was there and sometimes she was alone. But she was working on it every day. And she wasn’t alone and her relationship baggage. Killian had told her about Milah, who was not Alice’s mom but had been sleeping with him while she was married and that ended poorly. She could see it in the way Killian’s jaw clenched whenever Alice’s mom came up in conversation.

Alice had stopped asking after a while, but the weight of her mother and the unanswered questions sometimes hung in her interactions with Emma.

 “Emma?” Alice had returned to the door.

“Mom, are you dead?” Henry asked worriedly, jiggling the doorknob.

“I’m okay,” Emma called back. “I just…needed a minute.” She quickly cleaned up the mess up so the kids wouldn’t stumble upon the pregnancy tests by accident. She opened the door and soon had her arms full of two twelve-year olds, who she squeezed close to her. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll still have family dinner, just like always,” she hummed. She leaned over and kissed the top of their heads. “Now go get your shoes.”

Henry dashed away to go get his shoes, but Alice stayed curled in close to Emma for a moment longer.

“You okay, star?” Emma asked softly. Alice smiled a little bit against Emma’s side. The one time Emma had called her “starfish”, Alice had made it abundantly clear that she was only her father’s starfish. So Emma had compromised and asked how she felt about star. So Emma’s star she became.

“Mhmm. Just glad you are too,” Alice said softly, gently squeezing her.

Emma’s nausea greatly protested at the action, but she wouldn’t dare let it show on her face. Alice clearly needed reassurance, which Emma was more than happy to give. “C’mon, let’s go get see your Dad, hmm?”

Alice beamed up at her and raced off into the other room. Emma couldn’t help but smile, knowing that in her heart of hearts that Henry and Alice would be incredible older siblings.

But first she had to tell them.

--

As per their usual tradition, Alice and Henry went scampering off to the jukebox to play some songs, but Killian said that since they were only picking up food to go that they needed to compromise on the song choice rather than switching the two.

Over her shoulder, she could see the two kids having like a good natured argument as they flipped through the song choices. Warmed in thought, she swiveled on the counter stool to look at Killian.

“Are you sure you’re feeling all right, love?” Killian asked worriedly, his hand gently cupping her face.

Two years ago, she certainly would have no idea how integral Killian would become to her well-being. And it wasn’t bad before when she lived alone. She could take care of herself fairly easily and her son.

But to have a true and equal partner, who she could depend on and support, fall back on and push up when they needed meant more than she could say. For the first time in a long time, with Killian,  nothing ever truly felt like that much of a struggle. Sure there were arguments and tension sometimes, but with Killian…she didn’t feel like she was white knuckling her grip through life.

Except for the fact that she was white knuckling a napkin in her hand right now, but that was more from nerves because she wanted to keep things the way they were. They’d never talked about kids, though they were both fairly young parents.

Another child wouldn’t be completely unreasonable.

“Love?” Killian’s voice brought her back out of her head. “Is everything okay?”

Looking into his eyes, Emma was warmed by the love and support she saw there. “Yeah, uh…” she started shyly. Her heart began to pick up faster and faster in her chest. “There’s just…something I need to tell you?”

“You know you can tell me anything,” he murmured, kissing her forehead. She smiled and dropped her head, smiling at her lap.

“Yeah, I know,” Emma laughed softly. “It’s just…” She picked her head back up, only for her smile to fade. Killian’s jaw was clenched tightly and his eyes blazed as he looked beyond her. “Killian?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Killian snarled, jumping off his stool and striding toward a woman who was now standing near Henry and Alice.

“Hello, Killian.” The woman’s voice seemed pleasant enough, but it struck a chord with Emma in a way she did not enjoy. She leaped off her chair and ushered the children in close to her. The woman narrowed her eyes at Emma. “Who is this? And why is she near my daughter?”

“Your daughter?” Emma repeated, dumbfounded.

“You lost every right to call her that over a decade ago, Eloise,” Killian growled, effectively putting himself between Eloise and Emma. “She’s my daughter. How did you even find us?”

“I was interested in getting to know my daughter a little bit better,” Eloise replied, that too pleasant voice still grating on Emma’s last nerve. “I’ll certainly be seeing you all very soon.”

Emma felt Alice’s quivering against her side, and she held the girl a little bit closer. “It’s okay,” she whispered, watching Eloise’s retreating form. “You’re okay…”

“Papa?” Alice asked gently, gingerly peeking her head around Emma. “Papa, is she really my mother?”

Killian sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly taking in the confused and devastated look from his daughter. His gaze met Emma’s, looking for a courage or absolution, she wasn’t sure quite which. But she was more than happy to grant it to him.

She certainly was no stranger to shitty exes.

So she nodded and gave him a small smile, doing her best to communicate with him that it was okay, that they would work through this new trial together.

Killian exhaled calmly, and a little smile crossed his face as well.

--

When they got home, Alice and Killian went to Alice’s room to talk privately.

“Shouldn’t this be a family conversation?” Henry asked worriedly. “What if she comes back when Alice and I are at school or something?”

“It is not our place to demand to be a part of that conversation,” Emma said patiently. “If Neal came back, do you think you’d want Alice to know right away or would you rather talk to me first?”

“I’d definitely want to talk just us first,” Henry admitted. “But I’d still want to tell Alice.”

“I think she will,” Emma laughed softly, kissing his head. “Just give her some time. It’s…it’s hard for her.”

“So what can I do, Mom?” Henry asked, his gaze flickering to Alice’s closed door. “Alice is my best friend, she’s practically my sister. I don’t want her to feel like she has to do this by yourself.”

She proudly smiled at her son, her heart near fit to burst. Henry’s acceptance of Killian only reaffirmed that he would make a fantastic older brother to his new brother or sister when the time came. “They really are our family, aren’t they?” she asked softly.

Henry nodded, grinning from ear to ear. “Nice of you to catch up,” he teased, his hazel eyes sparkling with mirth. The joy faded for a moment when he added, “But seriously, Mom? How am I supposed to help her?”

Emma reached across the table to hold her son’s hand. “I think you just ask her how you can best support her and follow her lead. She’ll tell you whatever she’s ready to tell. And if she doesn’t want to talk about it and not want to think about it, then you can distract her and make her feel better.”

Henry thought over this advice before hugging her again. “I love you, Mom.”

“Love you too, kid,” Emma said softly, kissing his head as she cupped the back of it. “You know you’ll always be number one in my life?” she asked him.

“Yeah,” Henry said. “But I can make room for some other people if need be.”

“Good,” Killian replied softly. “The Jones are quite so lucky to be loved by the Swans.”

She was so focused in giving Henry advice that she didn’t even see Killian enter the room until Henry got up to hug him tightly. Killian squeezed him before adding roughly, “Alice is playing Smash Brothers if you want to go play with her.”

Henry dashed off, leaving the two adults in the room alone.

Killian was quiet for a moment before he gently pulled Emma into his arms. “I don’t think I tell you what a good job you’ve done with him on your own,” he told her softly against her hair. “He’s an incredible young lad and his heart is so big…he’s really become such an incredible man without the presence of Neal…”

“He’s so lucky to have men like David and you in his life,” Emma murmured, wrapping her arms around him to give him all the comfort he could want. She held him for a moment longer before asking, “So, how can I best support you, Killian?” He took in a shuddering breath and she squeezed him.

“Whatever your history with that woman is, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Emma promised softly against his skin. “You know I’m always going to see the best in you.”

“And I you,” Killian promised, kissing the top of her hair. “Can we…can we go to the couch?” he asked and she nodded, gently pulling him along to the living room. She sat, and looked back at Killian and tilted her head as he watched her appraisingly. “Are you feeling better? The kids were saying you were poorly.”

“If we’re gonna do some sharing, I can share after,” Emma said, her heartbeat picking up again as she thought about telling him about her pregnancy.

Killian sat across the couch from her and gently took his hand in hers. “I…I was young. Just broken up with Milah and just…not wanting to deal with the pain of losing her. So I was a bit…promiscuous, thinking it would just make it stop hurting.”

“I’m sure you never ran in short supply,” Emma teased lightly, just wanting to see the smile back in his eyes.

He huffed a laugh and gave her a small but cheeky smile. “Aye, my partners certainly never complained except if they were telling me not to stop.” She smiled and gently squeezed his hand again. “And one night I met Eloise at the bar.”

He stopped, looking down again. Her thumb gently dragged across his knuckles and she waited for him to speak again. She didn’t say anything, just kept the drag of her thumb across his knuckles consistent.

“I didn’t…I wasn’t…” Killian sighed. “I thought I’d made it clear that I didn’t want anything beyond a one night stand. But she kept coming to the bar. Or my coffee shop and…and she was a distraction. We didn’t do much talking. And it felt good…”

“But she kept pushing your boundaries and you were so hurt, and she made you forget that you hurt that it didn’t seem important to reinforce them,” Emma blurted out, guessing the story. His eyebrow raised a little and he pulled her into his lap with a strained laugh. “Trust me, babe,” she replied. “How do you think I ended up with Neal?”

Killian nuzzled her shoulder for a moment, as if to soothe the sting of the past. “It gets worse,” he admitted quietly. “She…she kept seeking me out to get pregnant on purpose. So she could trap me with her.”

“Oh my god,” Emma breathed in deeply, looking over her shoulder quickly to make sure Alice didn’t hear that part. “How did you get out with Alice?”

“A few weeks after Alice was born, I came home and she was just…gone. She left a note saying she wouldn’t be bound any longer and good luck,” Killian said wryly. “Little did she know that she gave me the greatest blessing of my life and it led me to the second greatest blessing of my life.”

“Granny’s?” Emma teased weakly, resting her head against his.

“Aye,” he laughed, kissing her shoulder. “Granny’s.” He closed his eyes for a moment, and her entire body seemed to relax in his hold. Even her nausea seemed to settle, knowing that he was here and holding her. “Is there something you wanted to tell me, love?”

Suddenly Emma’s whole world crashed down her ears, and her old wounds came kicking and screaming to the surface. She couldn’t possibly tell him right on the heels of that. What if he really wouldn’t be happy about having another baby? What if he thought she was trapping him just like Eloise did with him?

“Just that, um, I might take a personal day tomorrow so if you wanted to take Alice out of school, she and I can have a girl’s day,” Emma said softly, curling into him, hating how her nausea had returned full force.

Killian stilled, eying her again. After a moment, he seemed satisfied with what she’s said and relaxed as he held her close to his chest. “I love you, Emma,” he murmured softly. “So much.”

“Yeah,” Emma replied hollowly. “I love you too.”

--

Emma made sure to make Alice’s favorite breakfast—sunny side up eggs with a side of scrambled toast and orange marmalade—before the girl woke. She even made a plate for herself, delighted that her future child would give her something to eat.

When Alice walked into the room, her eyes lit up at the breakfast. “Is this for me?” she asked excitedly.

Emma laughed. “Of course. I figured you’d like your favorite breakfast on your day off,” she said, pushing the plate toward Alice.

“Your stomach seems to enjoy the marmalade,” Alice giggled. “I told you marmalade is great!”

“When you’re right, you’re right,” Emma said fondly. “Well, today is your day and we can do whatever you want?”

“Whatever?” Alice asked hopefully, her blue eyes sparkling with joy. “Anything I want?”

“Yeah, it’s a self-care day!” Emma laughed. “So you tell me what you want to do today and we’ll do it!”

“Can we go to the library?” Alice seemed to get more excited by the minute. “And then the bakery?”

“You got it, star,” Emma said softly, grinning fondly. “And if you wanna talk, that’s okay. And if you don’t want to talk, we don’t have to do that either.”

The use of her nickname made Alice pause, picking nervously at her crust. “Emma?” she asked softly. “If…if Eloise becomes part of my life…am I still your star?”

“Of course,” Emma replied without any hesitation. “You’re my star, and yo—I mean Eloise can’t take that away from us. And just because she gave birth to you doesn’t mean she has to be part of your life if you don’t want her to be.”

“Will you get jealous if I do?” Alice asked quietly, still picking at the crust of her toast.

“I mean, I’ll miss you if you choose to spend more time with her,” Emma said honestly. “I like hanging out with you. Video game nights with you and Henry are my favorite. But also…if this is what’s going to make you happy, then of course I’m going to support you.” She leaned over and tapped Alice’s nose. “Besides…you have your father’s heart. I know you have plenty of love in your heart.”

Alice looked at her, the same way Killian had the night before. And then she gently leaned over to hug Emma tightly. “I love you, Emma,” the girl promised.

Emma would definitely blame the pregnancy hormones for the way she teared up and held Alice even closer to her. “I love you too,” she whispered. “And I can’t wait to spend the day with you, star. Should we go to the library first?”

“Yeah!” Alice said excitedly and bounded out of the room with unbridled enthusiasm.

Emma worked on getting dressed, pausing only once to run her hand over her bump, before heading out with Alice. She was relieved to see Alice’s viviacious spirit returned as Alice talked about all the books she wanted to read, what books she’d been waiting for, and what books the girls in her class were reading.

They were only a few blocks away when Emma had the strangest feeling something was wrong. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Eloise following them, but Emma made sure that she kept Alice close.

She wasn’t entirely sure why Eloise was so close, and she hoped it was a coincidence. The lack of formal channels or communications made her nervous and Emma was worried about making a wrong move.

“Emma, can we go to the second floor first?” Alice asked, gently tugging on her hand. “That’s where are the old books are!”

“Lead the way,” Emma chuckled warmly. She made sure to duck around some shelves when they entered to see if Eloise was still following them. When Emma didn’t see her on the second floor, she let out quick sigh of relief, and watched Alice scamper down the aisle.

And then something collided with the back of her head and everything went black.

--

Emma had the faintest memory of weakly calling for Alice, for her daughter, faces swimming around her while her hand stayed firmly around Alice’s and then everything went dark again.

But she knew she was in a hospital bed now, she recognized the beep of the machines anywhere.

“Of course I want to bloody press charges!” Killian’s voice was a little too loud, but she was thankful that he was there. If he was with her, it meant Alice and Henry were safe. “She hurt Emma! She was going to kidnap Alice!”

He sighed, deflating a little bit at whatever response David gave him. “Yes, I can bring her down tomorrow to be interviewed. Emma is gonna need some rest…your detectives will have to come here, as Emma’s under observation for another day or too…”

Emma forced her eyes open and gently squeezed his hand. Killian’s head snapped toward her and his eyes filled with tears. “She’s waking up. Tell Alice and Henry that we love them so much and it’s all going to be just fine. Yeah. I’ll speak to your later Dave.” Emma couldn’t even get a breath in edgewise before Killian frantically pressed his lips to hers. “Hey,” she rasped softly. “I’m okay.”

“Aye, I know,” Killian choked out. “Eloise is my…but I still…and then the doctor told me that you…” His eyes searched hers and he realized. “That’s what you wanted to tell me yesterday, wasn’t it? That’s why you were ill…”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said quietly. “I was so scared that after seeing Eloise you’d think I was trying to trap you in a life with me.”

“Emma,” Killian whispered softly, crushing his forehead against hers. “How could you possibly think that I’d be trapped in any kind of life with you? I love you more than anything besides our children.”

“Old wounds,” she replied softly. “Between the first time I did this alone and Eloise making an untimely reappearance I just…my fear got the best of me. I figured I could wait until things settled down before telling you…I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

He laughed wetly, gently pebbling her face with kisses. “Emma…you are such an extraordinary woman. My ex attacks you, and you’re still apologizing to me.”

“You do deserve an apology,” Emma said tiredly. “I hurt you but in a different way…”

“You didn’t hurt me,” Killian promised. “You were trying to protect yourself from being hurt, and I’ll be honest…if you told me last night, I would’ve had a meltdown.” He nudged his nose gently to hers before kissing her cheek. “But if it means that much…you’re forgiven, love. I’m just so happy you and the babe are safe.”

“How are the kids?” Emma asked weakly. “How did Alice get away?”

“She started screaming bloody murder when she saw it happen,” he explained, his fingers dancing gently across Emma’s skin with the utmost love and reverence, and maybe to reassure himself she was still there. “And the librarian knew you were her mother, rather than Eloise who tried to tell the police that her daughter was having a psychotic break.”

Emma sat up abruptly, torn between the desire to find her daughter and comfort her and find Eloise and just start swinging. Killian seemed to read her mind and gently placed his hand on her shoulder so she’d rest again.

 “So just to make sure…you’re okay with having a baby with me?” Emma asked.

“As if flowers mind the summer sun,” Killian replied tenderly.

“Well, technically too much sun tries up the flowers and—” He silenced her with a kiss that had her smiling against his lips. “Point taken.”

“Should we start thinking of names?”

But it was Alice and Henry who had named their little sister when she came into the world seven months later. They named her after the thing that they always got from being with one another: Hope.

[delightfully-difficult-pirate]

Kittens for Quarantine (1/2) (CSJJ Day 16)

A/N: I originally came up with this idea during lockdown in 2020, when YouTube channels like Kitten Academy and Kitten Lady were essential to my sanity (what little of it there is).  I hoped to have it finished in time for today, but it turned into more of a beast that I anticipated, so I’m afraid I’ll have to post it in two parts.  Part 2 will come in Feb, as to not distract from any of the wonderful CSJJ pieces scheduled for the second half of January.  

Thank you @csjanuaryjoy​ for all your hard work organizing this event!!!

Trigger warning: Pandemic. 

Summary: During a storm, a stray cat runs into Emma’s home. Killian, Storybrooke’s new shelter manager, comes to help her out but some more unexpected arrivals mean Emma and her son are going to need a crash course on cat and kitten care.  

AO3

                                                           ~*~

Arms laden with bags of groceries and rain pelting her face, Emma Swan struggled to get the key into the lock of her front door.  Wet strands of her blonde hair stuck to her face, obscuring her vision even more.

Just as she was about to give up and call her 12 year-old son, Henry, to come open the door for her, the key slipped into the lock.  Emma shouldered open the door before dropping the bags onto the floor so they held it open.

"Henry, come start putting the groceries away," She yelled into the large house.

Too large of a house for just the two of them, honestly, but Emma had fallen in love with the blue Queen Anne Revival-style home when her realtor first gave them a tour, even though it was a little of a fixer-upper.  At over 100-years-old, that was to be expected.  It had been a little out of her price range until the City of Storybrooke helped her secure a better mortgage deal, as long as she agreed to restore the home to its former glory.  

The arrival of her help was preceded by loud thumps as Henry ran down the stairs.  He flashed her a grin as he grabbed a couple of bags and hauled them to the kitchen.

With a shake, Emma prepared herself to brave the raging storm once again to retrieve the remaining bags.  She'd hoped to be home before it started, but Leroy's van broke down in the middle of Main Street and she'd needed to help divert traffic until the tow truck could get there. She was lucky, she reminded herself as she loaded her arms up with bags, that Storybrooke was such a calm town and rarely needed its Sheriff for anything serious enough to keep her from getting home on time.  A far cry from her years working as a bail bonds agent in Boston.

A streak of lightning blinded Emma for a moment as she made her way toward her house, followed shortly after by a large crash of thunder.  She hoped that the storm wouldn't damage any powerlines.  She'd just bought two pints of ice-cream... which were sitting on the kitchen counter, melting, with no Henry in sight.

With a frown, Emma kicked the door shut.  It wasn't like Henry to abandon a job half done, nor to abuse ice-cream in such away.  After dropping the bags on the kitchen floor and her reusable fabric mask in the basket marked "Dirty", she washed her hands before going in search of her son.

"Kid, where’d you go?" she called out.

Emma almost missed his reply thanks to another crash of thunder but she was just able to hear enough to determine he was upstairs, and she found him in her bedroom on the top floor.  He was crouched on the floor and looking underneath her bed.  Henry looked up when she entered and told her, "I saw something small run into the house while you were outside and followed it in here. I think it’s a cat."

Emma blinked in shock. A cat?

She joined Henry on the floor and peered under her bed.  A pair of yellow eyes set in a colorful face stared back at her.

Wide-eyed, she sat back on her heels.  There was definitely a cat under her bed.  Not an ideal situation but it was a hundred times better than the other likely hood, a raccoon.

"Umm... I guess we should call David?"

Henry nodded in agreement.  Emma's good friend and Deputy was the head volunteer for the local animal shelter and would be able to arrange for someone to come and get their interloper. After she shooed Henry back downstairs to finish putting away the groceries, Emma called David.

He answered with a cheerful "Emma!"

“A cat ran into the house and is hiding under my bed," she blurted out.

There was a pause before David let out a boisterous laugh. "Sorry, sorry," he said, sounding breathless, "that was not what I was expecting."

"Neither was I," she replied.

David chuckled at her sardonic tone. "I'll give Killian a call. He'll be able to coordinate someone to come help you out."

"Who?"

"Killian Jones, the new Shelter Manager the City hired. He started about six weeks ago, not long before lockdown started."

Emma vaguely remembered a discussion during a City Council meeting last year about a grant from the state to expand the shelter, which also allowed for more full-time staff to be hired.  But she didn't recall anything on the topic after that.  Of course, she could barely remember what happened last week since 2020 was so chaotic.  

"I don't think I've met him yet," she admitted.  Normally, Emma made a point to introduce herself to new people who moved to town.  But with social interaction outside your household being discouraged due to the pandemic, she wasn't doing so.

"He used to help run a not-for-profit rescue group in NYC," David told her. “Grew tired of city life, though, and wanted a change."

Given the current situation in NYC, he was lucky to have moved to Maine when he did, Emma mused.

"Anyways, I'll give him your number so he can reach out."

After a quick thanks, Emma ended the call.  With a sigh, she stretched out on her stomach and eyed her unexpected guest.  The cat hadn't moved and continued to stare back at her.  Its face was a mix of black, orange and white. The pupils of its eyes looked fully dilated and its ears were flat and sticking out sideways, which worried Emma until a quick internet search informed her that the cat was probably anxious or afraid and unlikely to become aggressive unless they began to feel threatened.  Which would probably be the case if Emma tried to remove the cat from its current hiding spot on her own.  As much as she didn't want to invite a possible stranger into her home, much less her bedroom, she also didn't want to risk getting bit and/or scratched, and having to make a visit to the hospital as a result.

Resigned to waiting for the animal expert, Emma heaved herself up off the floor.  She left the cat trapped in her bedroom and made her way downstairs.  Henry already had most of the groceries away, except those that needed to go in places he couldn't reach.  Though with the way he was growing, it wouldn't be long before she would need to find a new hiding spot for her secret stash of chocolate.

Her phone rang around 10 minutes later, vibrating loudly on the kitchen table.  Since it was a number she didn't recognize, she hoped it was Killian Jones or another shelter volunteer who could help her out.

"Is this Emma Swan?" A surprisingly accented voice replied to her casual greeting.  At her affirmative, her caller continued, "this is Killian; David told me you have a bit of a problem with a stray cat.''

"You could say that. It ran inside and has taken up residence under my bed."

A deep chuckle reverberated across the line. "Probably seeking shelter from the storm.”

Honestly, Emma couldn't blame the cat for wanting inside where it was warm and dry.  She'd done the same during her time on the streets, even going so far as to break into empty houses when desperate.

"I'd rather not call out any of the volunteers in this weather, but it'll be around an hour until I can make it over to help you out. Will that be alright?"

Emma's nose scrunched in annoyance at having to wait, but reminded herself that this wasn't exactly an emergency.  After telling Killian that would be fine, they ended the call and Emma text him her address.

To pass the time, Emma set about making a simple dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup for Henry and herself.  They were doing the dishes, her washing and him drying, when there was a knock on the door. They both donned clean masks before she pulled the door open and she found herself looking into a pair of the bluest eyes she'd ever seen.  They and some black eyebrows were all that was visible of the man's face, since he wore a beanie pulled low over his forehead and a colorful paw-print patterned mask.

"Emma Swan, I hope?" The man – Killian - asked.  She nodded and quickly invited him inside as lightning streaked across the sky.  She didn't want another startled animal running inside after all.

Killian removed a wet rain jacket, plaid scarf, and beanie, hanging them on the coat tree by the door.  His dark hair was flat against his head thanks to the beanie until he ran a hand through it, mussing the strands until they were casually messy.  He wore a dark button-up under an equally dark vest – who still wore vests - with the top few buttons undone, revealing a decent amount chest hair and the chain of a long necklace.  This was paired with tight, black jeans that hugged a trim waist above sturdy looking boots.  

Emma wasn't sure what she was expecting someone who ran an animal shelter to look like, but sexy punk-rock professor wasn't it.  When her eyes returned to Killian’s face, she realized that he must have been aware that she’d been checking him out because she was met with a raised brow and amused blue eyes.  She’d bet money that he was smirking beneath his mask as well.

“The cat is upstairs,” she announced before turning around to hide the blush she could feel making its way up her neck.  She listened to Henry regale Killian with the tale of the cat’s sudden arrival as she led the way upstairs.  At her door, she paused.

“Excuse the mess.  We only moved in a few weeks ago,” Emma murmured, suddenly feeling the need to explain the piles of boxes still scattered around her room.  

Killian’s soft laugh sent a shiver down her back.  “Don’t worry lass, I won’t judge.  Been in my new place for nearly two months and still have a fair few boxes left myself.”

With a sharp nod, she let Killian into her room, but directed Henry to remain in the hall.  She stood back as Killian set down a small cat carrier she hasn’t noticed before and kneeled next to her bed, peering under it. She tried not to watch as his jeans hugged his shapely ass even more than before.

Killian raised his head and looked at her over his shoulder. “Lass, there is no cat under there.”

“What?” Emma immediately dropped down and looked for herself, but Killian was right.  There was no cat underneath her bed anymore.  She jumped up and looked around for any other places where a cat could go.  The door to her ensuite bathroom was closed, as was the one to her closet.

“She’s probably behind some of the boxes.”  

They started checking the various nooks and corners created by the haphazard piles of boxes.  She was about to pick-up a partially open box labeled “blankets” when she heard a small squeak come from within it.  Startled, she slowly lifted the flap of the box to peer inside.

“Umm…” was all she could initially get out.  “I found the cat.”

Killian appeared at her shoulder and let out a surprised “oh!” when he looked down.  Inside the box was not only the cat from earlier, which Emma could now see was a calico, but also two small, squirming kittens.  One was black with little white paws and the other looked to be a calico like the mother.  

“Look at you,” Killian crooned at the cat as he folded back all the flaps of the box. “Such a good mom, finding somewhere safe to have your babies.”

Emma marveled at how small the kittens were and couldn’t bring herself to be upset that they’d been born on one of her favorite knit blankets.  Everyone one, cats included, deserved a safe, comfortable place to give birth.

Killian slowly reached his hand into the box.  The mom cat watched attentively but didn’t make any move to stop Killian as he carefully grabbed the black kitten and lifted it partway out of the box.  It let out a high pitched squeak and flailed its small limbs as Killian checked it over.  As he did so, Emma noticed that he was still wearing a glove on his left hand and that it appeared oddly stiff.

“I think that one is a little boy,” he whispered, placing the kitten back at a nipple to nurse.  He repeated the processes with the calico kitten, who he declared it was most likely a girl.

“Male calicos,” he told her in a calm, soft voice, poking around the mother cat’s belly as he did so, “are extremely rare and only happen because of a genetic abnormality.”

Emma didn’t know enough about genetics to really understand why that would happen, but she would definitely look it up later.  After another minute, Killian pulled his hand from the box and sat back.  “It doesn’t feel like she has anymore kittens in her, so these two are probably it.”

“That’s good, isn’t it? Less for the shelter to take care of.”

Killian’s hand rose and made to rub across his face, obviously a habit, but he caught himself before he touched his mask.  “I’m afraid the kittens complicate things.”

Emma sighed.  Of course it would.

“The shelter isn’t set up to care for cats with kittens this small,” he informed her, “most aren’t, so they rely on people willing to foster the families until they can be adopted out.”

Killian scratched behind his ear as he continued, “Storybrooke doesn’t have a large foster network to begin with and very few are willing to care for mom cats with new kittens. Those that can are already doing so and I don’t think any of them will have space for more for another couple of weeks.”

This wasn’t completely new information.  David often complained about the lack of foster families in town and how often they needed to reach out to nearby organizations for help.  It was one of the main reasons David convinced the City to apply for the state grant program to improve the shelter.  

“Can you take them?” She suggested, hopeful.

With a sad look in his eyes, Killian shook his head. “I have two orphan litters at home, one of which is only three weeks old.  I wouldn’t be able to provide an appropriate level of care for any of them if I took in another.”

The idea of orphan kittens hit Emma right in the heart.  Orphans, no matter the species, were always a sensitive topic for her because of her past. She studied the two wiggling kittens nursing away in front of her for a moment.  Killian was regarding her with an unreadable expression on his face when she looked back over at him.

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to take care of these three until I can arrange another home?”

Emma blinked in shock. “What? I don’t know how to take care of a normal cat, much less one with kittens!” She exclaimed.

“It’s not that hard, really, I promise,” he held his hands up in front of him to convey his honesty at her suspicious look.  “Leto here does all the hard work.  You’ll mostly just be feeding her, checking the kitten’s weights to make sure they’re getting enough milk, and socializing them a bit.”

“Leto? You’ve already named the cat?”

He had the grace to look embarrassed and scratched behind his ear.  “Aye, Leto.  She was a Greek goddess and one of Zeus’ lovers.  Her story came to mind earlier and the name stuck.”

Incredulous, Emma could only stare at Killian, who flushed under her scrutiny.

“What is her story?” Emma eventually asked, curious.

“Leto is considered the goddess of motherhood or a protector of the young. But she is mostly known for being the mother of the goddess Artemis and god Apollo.  But when Leto first became pregnant, Zeus’ wife, Hera was enraged and made all lands shun her to prevent her from having anywhere to give birth. Eventually she came upon the newly created island Delos, which was not yet attached to the earth and therefore wasn’t land.  There she was able to finally give birth.”

Even Emma had to admit that the name was appropriate.  “So the girl is Artemis and the boy Apollo?”

Killian nodded.

Emma shrugged. “Works for me. Now, how do you socialize a kitten? I imagine it doesn’t involve signing them up for extracurricular activities,” she joked.

“Handling them in order to get them accustomed to it.  Basically playing with kittens, but with purpose.” From the crinkles next to his eyes, Killian was grinning under his mask.  

“Won’t that make her mad?” Emma nodded at Leto, who was currently licking Apollo’s head.

Killian shook his head. “She let me handle them without a problem, so I doubt she’ll object to you doing so.  Why don’t you give it a try?” He encouraged.

After taking a fortifying breath, Emma slowly reached into the box.  Like before, Leto watched Emma’s hand intently but did nothing to stop her from grasping little Artemis and lifting her up.  The kitten let out a squeak that caused her mom to lean forward and sniff at her for a moment, but they both settled down a moment later. Emma held the kitten for another minute before setting her back down.  

There was pride in Killian’s voice when he told her, “She trusts you.”

Her own voice held a touch of awe when she replied, “I guess she does.”

They sat and watched the little family of three for a couple of minutes before Killian broke the silence to ask, “So, will you take care of them?  At least for a couple of weeks?”

“Yeah, I guess I can.”

An exuberant “Yes!” came from the door of her room and Emma looked up to see Henry watching from where her door was opened a couple of inches.  A door she distinctly remembered closing.

Killian gracefully rose from the floor and immediately held out his hand to help her before he remembered the “no touching” rules they all lived under now.  He pulled his hand back with a frustrated growl, the sound of which did wonderful things to Emma’s nether regions.  She clenched her legs together as she stood, inwardly curing that such a simple sound turned her on.  She’d have to deal with that later.

“I’m going to grab some supplies from my truck that you can use,” Killian told her as they left her room. “Can you two get a medium sized box and some towels or blankets together?”

With a nod, she and Henry collected the items in the empty room Emma intended to one day turn into an office. When Killian returned, he cut a large hole in the front box and then a small one at the back, through which he threaded the cord of a heating pad.  He added a folded towel along the bottom before placing the entire thing within a large dog crate.  An old blanket, small litter box, and water and food dishes went in as well.

At each step Killian explained what he was doing and why, and she watched as Henry soaked up the information like a sponge.  “The heating pad needs to be plugged into a secondary thermostat in order to keep it from becoming too hot.”

Soon the whole set up was ready for its new inhabitants and Emma carefully carried the box with Leto and her kittens down from her bedroom.  At Killian’s direction, she placed Artemis and Apollo into the new box.  Soon her kitten’s squeaks drew Leto’s attention and when she hopped out of the blanket box and went into the new one to retrieve them, they shut the crate door behind her.  She paced around the crate for a moment before going into the box and curling up with her babies.

Killian draped a large blanket over the crate, “Its best to leave her be for a bit to let her get settled in.”

The cat crisis taken care of, the three of them made their way back downstairs.  Henry immediately started texting photos of Leto and her kittens to all of his friends.  They were, she was quickly informed, insanely jealous.

“I’m sure they are now. Send them some photos of you scooping the litterbox tomorrow and I bet they’ll be less envious,” she informed her son, which earned a chuckle from Killian.

He chimed in with, “People often forget the less glamourous side of having pets and how much work it can be.”  He’d definitely know all about that, running a shelter.  

As Killian looped his scarf around his neck, he asked, “I’d like to come back tomorrow to check-in on Leto and I’ll also bring some more cat food, if that is alright.”  

Emma nodded, thrilled that they would still have his help in taking care of Leto and her kittens.  She was also glad that it meant that she would see Killian again, as ill-advised as socializing was right now.  Not only was he handsome, even with half his face covered, but he was a pleasant person.  Obviously caring, given what he did, and he had a sense of humor.

“I left a cheat-sheet upstairs that has what you need to do and how, as well as what to look out for.  But if you have any questions, any at all, you can call me,” Killian assured her, “Day or night.”

As much as she would love to hear what Killian’s voice sounded like when he first woke up, she didn’t want to rely on him too heavily.  He did have a full-time job and two litters of kittens to care for, after all.

“Any other resources you recommend we check out?”

For some reason, her questioned caused Killian to blush.  “Oh… um…” he stuttered. “I actually have a small YouTube channel about pet fostering, specifically cats, that you could check out.”

Watch video of Killian playing with kittens?  No way was she going to pass that up. “I’ll definitely check it out.  What is the channel called?”

If possible, Killian’s already flush skin turned even more read.  

“It’s KillyKat.”

                                                          ~*~

A/N: See you in Feb!

[onceratheart18]

A Quiet Moment

Emma and Killian were cuddling on their couch enjoying some quite time by themselves while Henry and Hope where with their grandparents. "This is nice," Emma sighed, "I wish we could do this more often." "Aye, love," Killian said wrapping his arms tighter around Emma, "That would be nice." Sighing, Emma snuggled into Killian even more, resting her head on his shoulder. "I love you." Emma said, lifting her head from Killian's shoulder, kissing him on the cheek. "I love you, too." Killian replied, turning his head to kiss Emma on the lips. Resuming their original position they continued to cuddle until they eventually fell asleep, both with a content smile on their lips.

[caught-in-the-filter]

Six Sentence Sunday

Sexy Six Sentence Sunday? Sexy Six Sentence Sunday.

Here’s another little sneak peek of what I’m working on for @neverlandnewyear and @csjanuaryjoy, scheduled to drop Jan. 25:

-/-/-

“May I?” he asked, waiting for her approval to proceed.

“Yes,” she answered, “god, yes.” He grinned at that and very slowly tugged her jeans down her legs, distracted by the view of the place where his hand had been, covered only by the thin strip of fabric that had grown damp beneath his touch, pausing for a moment to slip off her boots when he reached them before removing the denim completely.

“You,” Hook said as he took in the sight of her almost completely naked form, “are absolutely stunning, Swan.” He scanned her body a moment longer, watching the blush spread over her cheeks and across her chest as she flushed pink under his desirous scrutiny. He nosed along the creases of her thighs and up the material that hid his goal before taking the top hem between his teeth, pulling it down until it hung from his mouth and letting it fall beside her on the blanket beneath them.

[csjanuaryjoy]

CSJJ 2021:  Week One Roundup!

We had an absolutely fantastic first week of posts for the CSJJ2021!  If you missed any, catch them up with the list below, and stay tuned for 3 more weeks of great stories and artwork!

January 1:  always feel like part of this was mine by @ohmightydevviepuu Modern friends-to-lovers AU.  In all the years Emma Swan has known Killian Jones she’s never felt anything like this–this tension, as if at any moment she might break.  Or he might.  What would it be like?

January 2:  Beautiful by @thesschesthair A canon-inspired mix of two prompts: “Fireworks at midnight” and “Reflections on the old year” as CS ring in the new year together and think about some of their adventures.

January 3: good ships and wood ships and ships that sail the sea by @profdanglaisstuff The Jolly Roger is truly more than just a ship. There’s something about her magic that allows Killian to sail her on his own, and a special relationship between them.

January 4:  Home (there and back again - a Saviour’s tale) by @katie-dub and @anxioussquirrel Her little brother is saved, the Wicked Witch defeated, and now Emma is back in New York, where she belongs. Only… Does she belong there? 

January 5: “Cuddles”, a painting by @svenjaliv​ CS keeping warm on a cool winter’s night

January 6: “Whatever the Weather (You Make Everything Better)” by @snowbellewells​ Emma has a lovely moment of reflection and gratitude during the six weeks of peace.

January 7:  “The Rescue” by @everything-person​ Princess Emma has gone missing and with the king’s promise of a special reward for the one to bring her home safely, her friends plan to be the ones to do just that.

January 8:  “Could This Be Us?” by @killiansprincss​  During the six weeks of peace, Emma and Killian agree to babysit Neal and Emma slowly begins to let down her walls and Killian becomes vulnerable.

[csjanuaryjoy]

OMG 😍

Here’s the sketch of the piece I’m working on for @csjanuaryjoy!

[csjanuaryjoy]

CSJJ2021:  Week Two Roundup!

Welcome to the end of Week Two!  Did you miss anything?  Don’t worry - we’ve got it all right here for your weekend enjoyment 💕

January 10:  Exactly Where I Was Meant to Be by @stahlop A CS romcom inspired by a classic movie scene that asks the question: But what if they were soulmates?  Liam and Killian are on double dates with the wrong women.

January 11:  Written in the Stars by @klynn-stormz AU.  Emma Swan is enjoying her small town life in Storybrooke, a place where she can raise her son, practice her magic, and lead a relatively normal happy life - until Killian Jones moves to townand everything, including her magic, seems to push them together.

January 12:  till the summer comes again by @demisexualemmaswan Modern AU.  Emma has been dating Killian for two years, and since then their family unit has only gotten closer. But that could change with the arrival of Eloise Gardner, Killian’s ex. Oh, and has Emma mentioned she’s pregnant? Not exactly.

January 13: the monsters turned out to be just trees by @spartanguard​​ The last thing Emlyn Cygnus needed to encounter on this adventure was a pair of blue eyes and a handsome face named Captain Hook.

January 14: Neverland artwork from @carpedzem​​ A scene inspired by Neverland’s Dark Hollow.

January 15:  spots and splashes by @killianjones-twopointoh​ A CS-inspired “101 Dalmations” AU where Killian’s dog, Roger, is determined to find his human a mate.  It all starts with a dog’s compassion and it all ends with a puppy-filled house.

Week One | Week Two

[kmomof4]

WOW!!!!!!

😍😍😍

The Darkness || @csjanuaryjoy

my take on how the darkness works. it didn’t tun out how I imagined but it’s still pretty close :) big thanks for @captain-emmajones who supported me a lot and to all discord ladies who helped!

[csjanuaryjoy]

CSJJ: Week Three Roundup!

Another week, another deluge of awesome stories to while away some time with.  We’re in the home stretch and very excited to see what else our writers have in store for us!!  🎉

January 16: Kittens for Quarantine by @delightfully-difficult-pirate Modern AU.  During a storm, a stray cat runs into Emma’s home. Killian, Storybrooke’s new shelter manager, comes to help her out.

January 17:  a new land of untold stories in artwork by @mariakov81​ Just imagine: Henry brings a new book written in Cyrillic, the book opens itself, and Emma and Killian are trapped in a completely different world. 

January 19:  Sowing Seeds of Trust by @jrob64 Modern AU.  Emma Swan is a young woman without a family, friends, a home, and now a boyfriend after he tries to pin his crime on her.

January 20:  if you carry the torch (i’ll follow the light) by @beyourlifeline Modern Riverdale-inspired AU.  Killian was her first real best friend, close practically since the day he and his brother moved in next door to her, traveling across the ocean from England to Maine to live with their father after their mother passed away.

January 21:  Puzzle Pieces picsets by @resident-of-storybrooke​ Modern AU.  During Christmas, Killian and Emma both find their home and put those missing puzzle pieces together. 

January 23:  love languages by @captain-emmajones​ During the six weeks of peace, Emma and Killian have an important conversation.

January 24:  A New Game Plan by @onthecyberseas​ Sports AU.  Ten years after the events of Not In The Game Plan, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers reunite to celebrate the anniversary of the Super Bowl victory.

January 24:  home by @thisonesatellite​ 3B Divergence.  Emma stops running because she finally knows what she wants.  Now all she has to do is talk to Neal and Henry.

Week One | Week Two | Week Three

[kmomof4]

MEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

This looks GREAT!!!

COMING SOON

A Few Nice Words

A Captain Swan Modern AU fic for @csjanuaryjoy

After everything she’s been through in life and more, Emma Swan makes a living working in real estate in Hyperion Heights, an affluent neighbourhood. When she goes home at night, though, it’s to an empty apartment where she spends her time hoping she can find something to kickstart her life and give her more to look forward to.  When she receives a call from a potential new client, a Mr Killian Jones, she throws herself into the search for the perfect condo for him.

As a musician, Killian Jones has always been transient, never staying in one place for too long.  Hyperion Heights seemed to be the next place to be to try and work on his career, so he contacts Miss Emma Swan, local real estate agent, and gives her a very simple list: condo, price not an issue, not on the ground floor, and two bedrooms so he can convert the spare room into a soundproofed studio.

Emma likes when her clients have simple lists.   It’s easy to close the sale and move on to the next one.  But when Killian keeps turning down every option she shows him, she decides to dig deeper and find out what might be acting as a barrier to him finding a new home.  What she finds is a tangled mess, a dark past, and an angry client who just wants her to stay out of it.

Killian likes things to be simple, and his past is anything but.  So, when he finds his agent digging into his past, he decides he will stop at nothing to make sure his past stays in the past.

Obviously I wanted to be able to post a full fic for this event but it’s been a weird month and I found out a week ago that I have two weeks to pack up my life and move.  Hopefully, I can get this written within the next month but for now, enjoy this teaser!  Thank you to the mods for organizing this event and I am SO SORRY I wasn’t able to post this on time!

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged when I post the full fic!

[csjanuaryjoy]

CSJJ 2021 Schedule

The schedule has been finalized! If you would like to take a look at the page directly, you can find it here (you can click the provisional dates tab to see posting dates in order). You can also see the dates listed below the cut. 

(And we’ll be sending out an email to everyone tomorrow, to be sure everyone gets to see the schedule!)

If you have any questions about the schedule, please do not hesitate to send a message our way!

[kmomof4]

This was absolutely FANTASTIC!!!! And I would LOVE to see more of it!!! Where did he send them? How did they get back???!!! Questions that need answering!!!!

good ships and wood ships and ships that sail the sea

Happy New Year!! 🤞🤞🤞 it will be much, MUCH better than the last few have, for all of us. Thanks to @csjanuaryjoy​​ for making these dark days brighter for the past five years! This is my third time participating and it has always been a bright spot in my year ❤️. 

This fic grew out of a head canon that I think many of us share–that the Jolly Roger is truly more than just a ship. That there’s something about her magic that allows Killian to sail her on his own, and a special relationship between them. And for all that many of us have written about how Killian felt giving up his ship for Emma, it wasn’t until @winterbythesea​​‘s latest chapter of Given The Choice that it really sank into my brain how much Killian would have hated knowing that the Jolly was in Blackbeard’s control… and then I thought, but what would she feel about that? What would she do? And thus this fic was born. 

Told from Blackbeard’s POV… just roll with it. 

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SUMMARY: 

Blackbeard has long coveted the Jolly Roger, for her speed and her beauty and her impossible daring. And of course to get her away from his arch enemy Captain Hook. But when the finest ship in all the realms is finally his, he soon discovers that there is more to the story of Hook and the Jolly than he could ever have imagined–and possibly more than he can handle. 

(Canon compliant up to the end of S3, divergent from S4 and completely ignores 6) 

AO3

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good ships and wood ships and ships that sail the sea: 

The first time Blackbeard tripped on a loose board on the deck of the Jolly Roger, he was annoyed. At himself more than anything, for not watching where he was going and for making a fool of himself in front of Hook’s crew. 

His crew. They were his crew now. He was their captain, whether they liked it or not. 

He’d had to leave a fair few loyal men back on the Queen Anne’s Revenge—not being fool enough himself to misplace his own ship the way Hook had—which meant the Jolly’s crew was presently comprised of far too many of Hook’s men for his comfort. He’d made them swear an oath of loyalty, of course, but they knew as well as he did that pirate oaths of that sort go only as far as the next change of leadership. True loyalty lies only in men’s hearts.

And possibly, Blackbeard soon began to realise, in the hearts of ships as well. 

The second time he tripped he fell flat on his face with a sound that Bones told him later was akin to that of a melon split open on a rock. “I feared fer yer ‘ead so’s I did, Cap’n,” he growled. Bones had been at Blackbeard’s side since they both were barely more than lads—and never once shown so much as a hint of anything resembling humour—so he did not die for that remark. 

Young Harry Hannigan, who laughed aloud the third time Blackbeard tripped, tumbling face-first into a fish-barrel, was not so fortunate. Blackbeard tossed him overboard with both legs in irons, to set an example. 

No one laughed when he tripped again. But he kept tripping. 

The migratory—and rather predatory—loose board on her deck was far from the only peculiar happening aboard the Jolly Roger. There was also, for instance, the determined way she “drifted” off-course if her bearings were not constantly and painstakingly maintained. There were the knots in the sheets that never seemed to hold and the sails that slipped from the rigging at precisely that moment when they were most needed to catch the wind. There were the crates of supplies that went missing and the locks in the brig that wouldn’t latch, the hammocks in the crew’s quarters that loosed themselves from their hitches in the night, snatching the men from their much-needed rest and tumbling them headfirst onto the damp and draughty floor. 

Now Blackbeard, despite what Hook was wont to claim, was no fool, and it wasn’t long before he divined a pattern to these occurrences. When Hook’s men were at the helm the ship’s course kept steady and when they were up in the rigging all knots and sails held fast. Their hammocks remained firmly fixed to the wall and once he’d appointed Starkey as quartermaster, the missing crates not only affected a mysterious reappearance but remained thereafter consistently—ostentatiously, he felt—present and accounted for. 

Pirates are suspicious beings by nature, and Blackbeard personally credited his success in the field to his complete lack of faith or trust in anyone, with the possible and very tenuous exception of Bones. But suspicions, he reminded himself, are not facts, however compelling they may seem, and so it was not until one afternoon as they slipped into perilous waters in pursuit of a valuable prize that he overheard Starkey murmuring to the mainmast “Steady on, old girl, we need ye t’ take us safely through these shoals,” and comprehension truly began to dawn. 

He recalled how Hook had always stood at the helm of this ship, with that smirking arrogance that set Blackbeard’s teeth on edge. How he’d seemed to move with the vessel, as much a part of her as the hull and masts. How they would appear from nowhere and when least expected, a yellow streak across the horizon, cannons blazing even as they moved and never once falling short of their mark, the whole manoeuvre so quick and so deft it seemed nigh on impossible. This was why Blackbeard had coveted the Jolly Roger, why he would have done anything to have her—for her speed, yes, and her elegant form, but more than that for her impossible daring. For her mischievous nature and her staunch loyalty. Her stalwart love. 

Twaddle, he told himself sharply. Foolish nonsense. A ship felt no loyalty. A ship did not love. 

And yet. 

The storm caught them just off the tip of Glowerhaven, swirling out of the farrago of warm winds off the southern seas and icy ones from the north, and the fierce, opposing currents that grappled beneath the water. Blackbeard had been witness to such storms before, had been wrecked in one as a lad when the Moordaunt foundered and sank in a vicious gale off the coast of Coabana. He would never forget the helplessness of standing on the deck as it was rent to shards beneath his feet, torn by the weight of the water and the strength of the wind. He could never forget the iron grip of fear on his heart as he’d scrabbled to catch hold of anything he could cling to, gripping like a limpet to a broken scrap of plank as he was swept out to sea, buffeted by merciless waves with no thought in his head beyond keeping it above water from one breath to the next. 

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