CS MODERN AU: Emma
plans a romantic evening for Killian. I got a bit carried away with the back
story for this. Anyway, all you need to know up front is that Killian has a
prosthetic instead of a hook in this. Also on AO3: x
This is my
submission for CSCOCKTOBER and also the first time I actually wrote smut so
please be gentle (sorry- I had to). Just want to say that everyone has been
wonderful in the discord chat and that I’m super excited to read and see all
the art that has been created for this event.
Warnings: smut
obviously, and some swearing. Nothing too crazy.
Emma Swan feels like an asshole. It’s been exactly two
months since she and Killian started dating, and she’s spent less time with him
in those two months than she did before they were dating. After 8 years of
friendship, lingering stares (eye-fucking really), a tremendous amount of
mutual understanding and failed attempts at hiding (him) and denying (her)
their feelings, the dam finally broke that afternoon in February.
This is an incredible story that I loved making art for, it’s quite unlike other CS fan fictions I’ve come across and the way the author portrays Killian makes you want to give him a hug! Take it from me, you’re going to love this fic 🙂 and I am so excited to reveal the art work I had the honour to make for this wonderful story (including this cover!)
Summary: Killian Jones had been born with a weak heart. No one could understand why, since it didn’t run in the family, on either side. The doctors said it might progress to the point of him needing a transplant, but with any luck, that wouldn’t happen until he was an old man. Luck was not on Killian’s side. Can Emma Swan, his newest cardiologist, convince him that his life is still worth living despite everything he lost?
Rating: E(explicit)
Content/Trigger Warnings:
mentions of alcoholism, kidnapping, self-harm, drug use, medical trauma, eating disorder, thoughts of suicide, hallucinations, whump, sexual content
What a beautiful cover image @downeystarkjr has created for @themilahskillybear’s Healing His Heart! It looks like a movie poster! The dark coloring hits the early tone of this story and compliment it so well, and this image perfectly captures the brooding, long-haired, overly scruffy Killian you are going to meet.
Emma pulled herself free of Killian’s waistband to stare at the stickiness covering her hand. His face was flushed, the orgasmic glow in his cheeks offset by the confusion on his brow, and embarrassment surging in his eyes. He… came? Already? Premature ejaculation was not something she expected from Captain Hook of all people.
Three minutes earlier…
She was breathless, giggling and panting, giddy with lust. Killian’s tongue ran along her throat, and he ground his pelvis into her, pushing her further against the door. They’d barely even made it inside his room at Granny’s before the full makeout began. Emma supposed it was her fault for starting the wandering hand contest during their walk on the docks after dinner. It’s not like she asked him to not wear a vest tonight though. She can’t be blamed for wanting to… appreciate the access it granted her. And she felt that it would’ve been a crime to not enjoy his newer, tighter jeans.
Which of course led to his fingers slipping into whatever cracks they could find in her clothing, between her shirt and waistband, under her collar, into her skirt… Once he discovered the slit on the side of her shirt, his hand basically didn’t stop brushing over and tugging at her bra.
When he pulled her in to kiss her, she’d had to put a hand up. She was already so on fire that a kiss would likely push her into Very Bad Decision territory. Like undoing his pants and riding him on the nearest bench. Besides, they’d gone on several “actual” dates, made out on her parents’ couch more than a few times, it past time for her to experience the full (and fully naked) Killian Jones.
Hence being pinned against the door the instant they made it through.
She snuck a hand between them, and groaned against Killian’s lips as they slid back over hers. She’d felt him hard against her thigh, but sweeping her fingertips over his head, his length seemed to swell even more. He whimpered into her mouth, and warmth flooded her core. She wanted him so badly. Emma worked her way down, too impatient to bother fiddling with his fly, and finally, finally, had his smooth, hard shaft in her hand. He tilted his head, pressing her against the door in a way that had her mildly surprised they hadn’t broken it yet, and swept his tongue into her mouth before whimpering again. Emma gripped his cock, pumping it as best she could under his jeans, and her other hand took to untucking his shirt in the back, groping at his ass and scratching the skin just above.
His lips stilled as his breath hitched, and she felt his arms stiffen around her.
“Em- ah!”
Her eyes flew open, and his hips bucked into her hand, thrusting roughly as the rest of him shuddered.
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!)
A/N: so @optomisticgirl discovered that there’s this stuff called Passion Dust that is basically glitter for your hoo-ha “to make sex more magical”. Obviously that’s ridiculous and unhealthy. So, obviously, CS had to get in on that. (But safely.)
A normal weeknight in the Swan-Jones household found Emma spread out over the sofa, scrolling on her phone, with her feet on Killian’s lap, who was reading a book on the other end. Dinner was put away and the house was quiet; it was their new normal, though life was still far from mundane.
At least, it had been quiet, until Emma came across something that was just so silly she couldn’t help but chuckle. And giggle. And then full-on laugh because it was so completely ridiculous.
“What’s so funny, love?” Killian finally asked; she looked past her phone to see that he’d set aside his book and had his attention on her, an amused smirk on his face.
“Look at this!” she blurted out as she sat up and scooted next to him, shoving her phone at him. She watched as he took in what was on the screen, his eyebrow raising in disbelief as he read.
“Surely, they can’t be serious,” he queried, giving her the incredulous side-eyed glance he gave her whenever he thought something in this realm was absurd.
“I mean, doctors say not to use them, but apparently people still do.”
“Just…” he started, then trailed off, shaking his head. “Glitter? Down there?”
“Apparently.” It was just one of those dumb things that popped up on Facebook, but evidently, someone was producing and marketing glitter-filled capsules for use during intimate times. Or, in other words: vaginal glitter bombs. “Haven’t these people ever had sex on the beach?” she added. “It’s gotta be like sand—it gets everywhere and it hurts.”
“Aye,” Killian agreed, wincing. “But sand at least washes out. Glitter…glitter stays with you.”
“Oh?” she asked, almost surprised. He sounded like he was speaking from experience. “And how would you know that?”
He blushed a bit, avoiding her gaze and scratching at that spot behind his ear. “There may have been an…incident in Neverland.”
“Oh, I’ve gotta hear this.”
He sighed, but she could tell it was more out of embarrassment than anything. “I’d bought a vial of what some charlatan was hawking as ‘pixie dust’ on an errand once; I thought it might amuse Tinkerbell. And it did. However, when we were…enjoying ourselves that night, one or the other of us may have been a bit too enthusiastic and the bottle toppled off the shelf. Right onto us.”
“I’m guessing it wasn’t actually pixie dust?”
“No, it was not. I’d imagine pixie dust would make you feel good.” She snorted at that; he didn’t realize the euphemism he’d made. He gave her that sideways glance again but continued on. “This…just went everywhere,” he said with disdain. “It fell right onto where we were, ah, joined, and floated around from there. It was in my chest hair for months and my balls sparkled for more than a year.”
“Aw, I bet you were so pretty,” she teased. “How did Tink fair?”
“Much the same, but without the balls.”
“I figured.” They both giggled, both at the story and at the ease with which they were able to talk about past encounters.
“And besides,” he continued, gesturing toward the insanity on her phone screen. “You and I certainly don’t need this contrived product to create magic in the bedroom, as it seems to be advertising. Not when all the magic we could ever need is already part of you, my love,” he concluded genuinely.
Now she was the one blushing, though that obviously wasn’t something new. But—it gave her an idea. “Hmm…what if we could do it without the mess?” she theorized.
He quirked an eyebrow curiously. “What are you thinking, Swan?”
“I’m thinking…” she started, then set her phone aside and slid her hand into the open V of Killian’s shirt. “…That I’d really like to see what you look like with glitter in your chest hair. And on your balls.”
“Only if I get to see you covered in it, too, darling.”
Gawd. That gif is so tame compared to what they’d been doing earlier, but yes. DEFINITELY both depending on mood.
Ha! I know, but I picked it on purpose because they are so smirky and flirty and clearly counting the seconds until they can get back to taking turns at being on top. 🔥😇
cshappybeginning 