Hope has had him wrapped around her tiny, perfect finger from the moment she came screeching into the world, but the first time he hears her laugh — so unbridled and full of glee — Killian is overcome by the swell of emotion in his chest, and he swears he would move heaven and earth just to hear the sweet sound again. He damn near does, between playing peek-a-boo and making some of the most absurd noises a three hundred plus year-old man can make. He wears things on his head and puts food on his face and blows raspberry kisses to her rounded belly and the bottoms of her chubby feet, all to Hope’s endless delight.
“She adores you, you know,” Emma comments one day, watching them play while she finishes folding their laundry.
He’s sprawled out on his belly on the floor of the living room, Hope giggling and grabbing at his nose.
“Well, the feeling is quite mutual,” he smiles, puffing out his cheeks and crossing his eyes before releasing the air trapped in his mouth and making their daughter squeal at the noise it creates.
Emma places the last bib on the top of the pile and hefts the basket against her hip. She crouches down low when she passes by them to kiss at the top of his head. “I adore you too.”
Killian tilts his face up to hers. “That feeling is also mutual.”
That earns him a soft peck against his lips and a grin as pretty as Hope’s. Eager for another kiss, he catches her ankle with his hook before she can fully stand, and all it takes is one sharp tug to send her off balance and tumbling into his arms. The basket tips in the process and, to Emma’s dismay, all of their clean laundry winds up on the floor.
“Killian!” It’s part cry, part annoyance but mostly laughter as she lands in his lap with a solid ‘oof.’
Hope bursts into another fit of giggles and Killian glances over at her curiously, his brow arched high. He digs his fingers into Emma’s ribs, at the precise spot he knows she’s ticklish, and she jerks against him, her laugh even louder this time while she attempts to scramble away, and as he suspected it might, Hope loves the sound and responds in kind, her own grin gummy and wide, and her chortling boisterous enough to rival Emma’s.
The slow smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth is dangerous with the newfound knowledge he’s aquired. It takes Emma a beat to catch on, her gaze flitting back and forth between he and Hope, but by the time she does, it’s too late, and before she can even protest, he’s tickling her again and blowing raspberries against the curve of her neck.
Their home, already filled with love and messy, perfect bits of life — newly washed clothes on the floor, Hope’s toys in every nook and cranny, leather jackets strewn over the backs of chairs and couches, boots mismatched and misaligned by the front door, keys in the fruit bowl in the kitchen, stacks of unopened mail on the counter and unwashed dishes in the sink — fills with wild, exuberant laughter, too, and Killian wouldn’t have it any other way.
Re: last reblog. For anyone who doesn’t want to see any Wish Hook or Wish CS content I may reblog, you can blacklist the following tags: CS 2.0 and Wish CS which I would be using for any content I reblog about it.
about shipping this hook with another Emma bc he is so much more than a love interest or HER love interest, as a hook stan does that make u feel bad? Like oh I shouldn’t be shipping him with Emma bc they’re right or even if u don’t believe they’re right does it make u feel like no stop I love him? Sorry idk I’m just curious bc I see these posts and I feel shit sometimes and hook’s not even my #1 (2)
fav (it could be that I feel bad for that reason) but idk sorry just wanna know how u deal with that or if u just go nope u wrong I stan him with a woman who makes him incredibly happy WHICH I MEAN ITS NOT LIKE U WRONG ITS NOT A CANON THING Y PEOPLE PRESSED LMAO (like u do u I do me nobody has a wrong interpretation) idk lmao? SORRY THIS GOT LONG LMAO (3)
You don’t have to apologize, we all get curious! And no, I don’t feel bad about shipping Wish Hook/Rogers with a Wish Emma, I don’t allow those people to think for me. I’m my own person and how I feel about something doesn’t change just because they want to scream and act like assholes. (If it did, I wouldn’t be so vocal about my hatred for Milah lol)
Here’s how I look at it, Wish Hook/Rogers wasn’t given a love interest for Season 7, his story revolved around his daughter. There was no hint of him being and/or ending up with any of the female characters, so I’m not ignoring a canon couple by shipping him with Wish Emma. I love him, and I want him to be happy, and I see him happy being with a version of the woman, as you said, that made OG Killian incredibly happy.
To me, True Love means all versions at any time will find each other and fall in love, which means that goes for Wish Hook, too. There’s a Wish Emma out there and I’m going to ship the hell out of them because why wouldn’t I want to see my OTP fall in love all over again?
My nervousness about writing this is because of both sides of the fandom. The BA Pro Wish Hook’s and the BA Anti Wish Hook’s, because you got the one side that screams Emma ruined OG Killian, so a Wish version would ruin Rogers, too and you got the other that foams at the mouth at just a mention of him. Both BA’s have attacked people and have sent vicious anons (every time I post about CS 2.0 I get an anon that I have to delete screaming at me) and I’m just trying to mentally prepare myself for it.
I don’t feel like shit at all for shipping Wish Hook with Wish Emma and you shouldn’t either, just because we do does not mean we think he’s no more than a love interest. I watched Season 7 (started late but still watched it) and I was 100% fine and satisfied with his story line because we got to see another side of him.
As for how I deal with it, I use the block/filter/black list feature. I don’t even have to see the usernames of the people I don’t want to.. It really does work wonders!!! 😀
You bet I’m going to be first in line to read tour fic, and bless you for all you said. I didn’t love S7 by any means to be perfectly honest, but of course I want to read about another version of my OTP falling in love. I’m sorry you get nasty anons about this, and I know I have some followers who don’t like Wish Hook but are not BAs, so I will tag accordingly so they can blacklist if they want; we would all get along so much better if we all learned to filter or blacklist and move on or keep scrolling if we don’t like something, life is stressful enough to also get stressed about your entertainment I say, lol.
Summary: Killian is stuck in the Enchanted Forest while the woman he loves in in New York with no memory of him. His only consolation is his dreams of her… dreams that are starting to seem disturbingly real. Meanwhile, Emma Swan is starting to have some disturbing dreams of her own.
Notes: This is an idea I had when I started thinking about what to write for Cocktober, but then it started writing itself and now I like it so much I don’t want to hold on to it for another two months. Rated M but maybe E, because I still don’t really know what the cutoff point is, but what I’m saying is that there’s quite a lot of smutty smut. Also, I kinda blame @teamhook for getting me started thinking about whether I could write something purely smutty. Turns out I can’t, and quite a lot of romance snuck in when I wasn’t looking.
The night was dark and largely silent, lit only by the stars and by the thin slice of a silvery moon, the only sounds made by the waves against the hull of the Jolly Roger. Killian sat at his desk, flask of rum in hand, idly digging his hook into the wood, tracing a pattern there. When he realised he was carving the outline of a bird with a long, elegant neck, he pulled his hook away and sighed.
She’s gone, mate, he reminded himself, for what must be the thousandth time. You’ve got to stop this
Taking one last swig from the flask, he re-corked it and began preparing for bed. At least in his dreams he’d see her again, if only at the edges of his vision, dancing away from him as he reached for her. He wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than being awake knowing she was in another realm, out of his reach forever. Wearily, he lay back on his pillows and closed his eyes. Normally it took him time to relax enough for sleep to overcome him, but that night his lids had barely closed before he fell into a dream unlike any he’d ever dreamt before.
They are on the beanstalk, and he sees her cut her hand on a jagged piece of woody vine. She doesn’t seem to notice. When they reach the top he bandages it for her, watching as awareness and reluctant interest dawn in her eyes as he flirts. He wants to kiss her as he had wanted to then, and this time he goes for it, knowing that he will wake seconds before his lips touch hers… but he doesn’t, and she tastes even better than he’d imagined, her lips hot and welcoming as she tilts her head and opens her mouth, her tongue tangling with his. He groans and suddenly they are in Neverland, devouring each other with hot, greedy kisses, the taste of his rum on her tongue driving him mad. Her hands grip his collar holding him tightly to her even as she pulls away from the kiss. He chases her lips with his and this time she lets him catch them, kissing him even more fiercely than before, letting go of his collar to slide her hands under his coat, pushing it from his shoulders. “Hook,” she whispers in his ear, “I want you.” He moans helplessly and tangles his fingers in her hair, his hook pressed into the small of her back so hard it must be painful, but she simply pulls him closer and purrs “I want you to fuck me,” and he wants that too, gods yes, more than he’s ever wanted anything in the whole of his long life, but not here, not against a rough tree or scrabbling in the dirt of the jungle floor, he won’t take her here… and they are in his cabin on the Jolly Roger, in his bed, naked, she is straddling his hips, her head thrown back, golden hair wild and tumbling over her rosy tipped breasts, which are there within his reach— so he reaches, cupping one in his hand, stroking his thumb across her nipple and she moans. “Do that again,” she says, “that feels amazing,” and Killian marvels at how cooperative his subconscious is being but knows he must wake soon, this can’t last. Her hands slide down his chest as he fondles her breast, and then they are on his cock and he can’t believe he hasn’t woken yet. She strokes him once, twice, then lifts her hips and positions him at her entrance. “Any minute now,” he thinks, but no, she is sliding down onto him and he knows this is a dream but he swears he can feel her tight, wet heat around him, squeezing him as she begins to move. She rides him hard and he grasps her hips, fingers and hook digging into her soft skin as he thrusts up to meet her. She takes his hook and runs it across her body, bringing it down between her legs, just above where they are joined. “Touch me with it,” she demands, and he strokes the cool metal across her clit, making her moan. She’s about to come, and he’s close too, so close, and she leans down and takes his mouth again, kissing him deeply, her tongue in his mouth and her teeth on his lips and he explodes inside her, feeling her walls clench around him as she comes. She collapses on his chest and he wraps his arms tightly around her, his face in her hair, breathing her in, and he knows this is a dream —he thinks he knows it— but it feels so bloody real.
Welcome to Cocktober! The……thing where we want to get everyone together and make 100 new smutty things in the month of October. I’m talking pancakes. Tacos. Coffee. Other foods we haven’t yet made dirty.
And this isn’t limited to fic or gifs – you can manip, you can write, you can do a picset, you can make gifs! Or a combination! Or more! We accept all things, so long as it’s smutty.
(However, we will ask that if your smutty thing runs much less vanilla than others, appropriate warnings be put in place. 🙂 If you have questions, please ask!)
Summary: When Emma Swan moved to Storybrooke, Maine, she never imagined she’d end up living out a real-life ghost story. But then again, does anyone really expect to find a cursed mirror, or the 300-year-old pirate trapped inside? Rated T. ~12.5K. Also on AO3.
A/N: I’m back, with my second contribution to @cssns! @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 is responsible for that fantastic gif above – go tell her how awesome she is, because seriously, she’s the best (if its not working, that’s my fault, not hers). As always, thanks to my amazing beta, @snidgetsafan. She’s also the best. Additional thanks to @branlovesouat and @kymbersmith-90, who were 100% responsible for the brainstorming on the CSSNS discord that led to this fic, and helped me get it off the ground.
“Well, kid,” Emma Swan says, apprehension coloring her voice, “looks like this is the place.”
The house isn’t much to look at, to say the least. Truthfully, most of this little town isn’t much to look at. But when Mary Margaret Nolan, an old friend from college, had told Emma about the opening for a counselor at her elementary school, she had jumped at the chance to finally move Henry out of the city and into a place where they can have something resembling a support system. The house Emma purchased is older, shabby-looking, but is in surprisingly good condition inside, albeit dusty and outdated. The previous owner had died some months before, leaving her assets to the town trust. Having no real need for a shabby Queen Anne home, the town had been anxious to sell it, and Emma had snapped it up at a bargain price, some of the late owner’s furnishings included. A lot of it’s probably going to end up carted off to the nearest thrift store in the back of David Nolan’s truck, but Emma’s hopeful that there might be a few pieces they can use. The more she can save on furniture, the better.
At the time of purchase, it seemed like there were almost no downsides – furnished, affordable, with a nice sized yard for Henry to run around in – but looking now at the crooked fence and peeling paint, Emma’s a lot more nervous. God, what have I gotten myself into? she wonders with rising panic. No one has ever accused Emma of being handy, and by the looks of things, she may have quite a few projects on her hands.
It does help that Henry is clearly thrilled by the new house, practically skipping up the front walk with his backpack and all the energy a five-year-old can muster.
“This house is so cool, Mom!” he exclaims excitedly, bringing a smile to Emma’s face despite all her worries. “Can we put a play castle in the backyard? Can my room be in the tower? Oh! Do you think it’s haunted?” Frankly, Henry seems most excited about the last possibility, which Emma will take the time to be worried about later when her schedule is more open.
Okay, but I just saw that tide commercial where dad says his daughter pretty much lives in the princess dress, but once a week, she plays sheriff so he can wash, and just picture Killian and Hope.
Everyday, Hope loves to wear the pirate costume Grandpa David bought her (much to her father’s dismay) and refuses to take it off.
“I’m a pirate, just like you, daddy!”
So, once a week, in order to allow Emma to wash it, Killian holds a grand ball in their living room where Hope dresses like a princess and dances with her father.
cshappybeginning 