Summary: Some people would call it a job, but to Emma and her sister, Milah, it’s a game of the heart. Play by the rules and you’ll never get hurt.
Whatever you call swindling wealthy men out of their money, this con-artist duo has it down to a tee. Milah sets up an available, rich man and gets him to marry her. Emma seduces and lures the husband into having an affair so he’ll get caught in the act. He then loses his money in the ensuing divorce.
The sisters wear a coat of armor around their hearts to keep them intact, but when they set their sights on their next mark, professional golfer Killian “Hook” Jones, Emma never imagined how hard the game could be and how easily her heart could be stolen—especially when she switches roles with Milah and becomes the one exchanging vows with the gorgeous multi-millionaire. Heartbreakers AU.
Rating: Mature for connivery, vixen behavior and sexual themes.
Content Warnings: This story deals with conning and manipulation and also mentions/includes children with various disabilities, and also .
Author’s Notes: So, over a year ago, I made this post about a story idea I had in my head for a really long time. Well, guys, I am soooo excited to say that I went ahead and wrote the thing!
Thank you @captainswanbigbang and all of the moderators for organizing the event and for all of your help throughout the process.
A huge shout out goes to @ilovemesomekillianjones for all of her help with this fic. She really kicked some butt while beta reading, and if not for her, this story would not be what it is.
Thank you @distant-rose for stepping in as my artist. She is so talented and I can’t wait for everyone to see all of the art she has planned for this fic. She even made me a playlist for this story including Emma’s and Milah’s theme song, Homewrecker by Marina and the Diamonds, and some other great tracks that fit well with the theme of the fic.
Thank you @onceuponaprincessworld for all of her feedback and for her constant support and for letting me bounce ideas off of her during the process. Thank you @teamhook for her help and ideas with scenes I was struggling with.
This is the first time I’ve written a complete MC before posting the first chapter, so it feels surreal to be presenting this to you knowing it’s finished. This story has been a struggle, especially when it came to constructing Emma’s character, and I’ve definitely had some ups and downs during the writing process, but I’m really proud of how this fic turned out and I really hope all of you enjoy it!
There are 12 chapters, and I will be posting every Tuesday, so let me know if you would like to be tagged.
Note: This is my very sad submission to @cscocktoberfest. I apologize, because this is more sad than smut, but we all should have expected this from me.
-“No One Else” Natasha, Pierre, and The Great Comet of 1812
This is how she remembers their first time:
Her fingers carded through his hair, his hand digging into her hip. Emma can still recall the puff of his breath against the slope of her neck, warm against her flushed skin. Everything about it was good, the way his fingers danced against her center, the thick drag of his cock when he finally enters her. They had moved slowly then, that first time.
Emma has never been one to make love. Not since Neal, not since she had been seventeen and believed in the magic of love – before that faith had been crushed by destiny (by fear). Funny how Killian had been the one to reignite that faith. Funny that now he’s gone.
“If we are to be intimate this evening, I’ll have to insist on one condition.”
His words are as soft as his hands running down her arms, light and simple touches to keep her buzzing from the dizzying kisses they’d shared. Emma keeps staring at his lips, wanting them to come back and touch hers, wondering why they’re still talking and not ‘being intimate’ as he’s calling it. “What is it?” she asks, her voice just as soft, willing do do just about anything to see if he’s as good kissing her in other places as he is kissing her on the mouth.
His hands skim her shoulders and her neck, reaching up to cup her face. “I’d prefer it if you called me ‘Killian’.”
His hands make it so she’s looking up at him, his eyes soft and pleading and God damn him for having such blue, blue eyes for her to get lost in, she almost forgets his request.
Emma Swan found a box of pictures in her new apartment that have been giving her ideas – good ideas. But what happens when the object of her affection actually shows up at her door? Rating: E Word count: 7200 Notes: Written for @cscocktoberfest. It was a bit of a challenge to just write smut, but one that I decided to take on anyway. Special thanks to @idristardis for the beta! Based on a @dailyau prompt I’ve been holding onto for a few years: “
I found a bunch of your stuff when I moved into this apartment and I have no idea who you are but I think we might be soulmates AU" Only, you know, smuttier.
Emma walked into her new apartment, but to be fair, there wasn’t much to drag. After bouncing from one foster home to another, she learned pretty quickly about how to pack light and deftly move things in and out at a moment’s notice. But she hoped things might change with this new place. But she finally started to get steady work in Boston and decided she wanted to just settle down for a bit and have someplace to call her own.
It also helped that the apartment she’d found in Boston was fully furnished. Apparently, the previous renter had bailed on short notice, and the landlord just decided to keep the furniture for the next tenant. Emma didn’t really have a problem with that. It would be nice to have a kitchen table and she had enough cups and plates to use. The couch was some ugly plaid fabric so she made a mental note to get a slipcover for it. The bed was a decent size, and Emma had stopped at a store yesterday to get some new sheets and pillows for it.
Emma wasn’t going to be adding much to the apartment at all. Just the small cardboard box and suitcase that she’d carried up from the backseat of her little yellow VW Beetle. Unpacking would be a breeze.
Then she realized the suitcase wouldn’t be as easy to unload as she expected. The bedroom closet was completely empty, and there was no set of drawers or baskets or anything. Not even a single hanger. Did the previous renter not have any clothes? Emma shook her head and dropped her suitcase on the floor of the closet. Luckily, it would fit inside and still allow the doors to close, so she could just prop the suitcase open and dig through it when she needed to for now.
Except the closet wasn’t completely empty after all. As she started to unzip her suitcase, she noticed a large shoebox down on the floor in the corner. Emma always liked digging into a mystery – it was partially why she was a bondswoman after all. Detective work was her thing, and a mysterious box in a closet definitely necessitated detective work.
Summary: Emma Swan and Killian Jones are not coworkers. Okay, they kind of are. Emma Swan and Killian Jones are not friends either. Okay, maybe they kind of are. Honestly, Emma’s not sure what’s up and what’s down when it comes to Killian Jones…well, that’s also not true. She knows one thing that’s up.
Rating: Mature (it’s cocktoberfest peeps)
A/N: Hey all! Here’s part one of my contribution to @cscocktoberfest! I wrote this about a month ago before I’d really gotten into a good rhythm (pun always intended with me) with my smut writing, but I hope that it’s still a good time. I’m posting a bit early because I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to later since I have a late night at work. So have a very pleasurable time reading.
“Killian, they’re literally right in front of you.”
He seems shocked by that, only to look down and see that the
peas are, indeed, sitting in the serving dish right between the two of them on
David and Mary Margaret’s dining room table. Mary Margaret makes these damn
peas for every single one of these dinners, and Killian is the only person who
likes them. What Emma would give for another vegetable to be served at one of
these dinners. She doesn’t even like vegetables, but she’d learn to love them
for anything other than these goddamn peas.
She seems to be a little too passionate about the peas.
Another enemy defeated, another day saved. Killian and Emma stood on the sidelines as the townsfolk crowded into the streets, catching their breaths and processing the events as the adrenaline wore off.
He felt first the ringing in his ears. Dizziness set in and he clutched his stomach as a sharp pain tore through him.
“Killian? Killian, what’s wrong?” Emma asked, her worried eyes searching for the source of his pain.
He lifted his hand and looked at it, then looked back at Emma, and scrambled to hold onto her as he collapsed onto the ground, a streak of red left behind on her sweater where he’d touched her.
Canon divergent
smut set somewhere in 3b. The details aren’t important. This was originally
written for an abandoned modern au fic but when @initialacalls for smut and
you’ve got some sitting around that’s never going to see the light of day
otherwise then by god you rip it out and turn it into something resembling a
one-shot. ~1800 words.
It’s meaningless, she tells herself even as she knows it’s useless. Just some meaningless sex. Nothing more.
She’s a little out of practice but for awhile there — before Henry, before
Storybrooke, before finding her parents and being the Saviour — one-night
stands were as far as she ever went. They’re easy. She knows what they feel like, how they kiss, how they
touch, what they want. And right now, that familiar rhythm, that simple pattern
of pleasure, is everything she needs.
Kissing
Hook is nice and all — don’t get her wrong, he’s fucking great at it. Good
pressure, not overly eager with the tongue, and his thumb tracing circles at
her hip like he’s keeping himself from sliding his hand up her shirt through
force of will alone.
But just
kissing isn’t enough right now, and she’s not looking for slow.
Summary: Killian Jones is a gentleman. He and his brother pride themselves on the matter, even if it ends with harm to them. So when an angry ex of Killian’s client bites him, he tends to the wound, watches it heal, and thinks no more of it.Until he wakes up in a closet on his ship with no memory of what happened the night of the full moon. Fleeing from the unknown, the brothers Jones find Storybrooke, and with it, Emma Swan, who is a lot more familiar with their situation than anyone could expect. And when an old foe comes to their new home, Killian has to rely on new talents to keep those he loves safe. Rating: M for language, violence, some sexual content. (better safe than sorry) Content warnings: violence
Hehe. Hello friends. Long time no see. Life has been a real whirlwind and I haven’t found much time to be on here. But I lurk, and I’m around, and I’ve missed you all. So I come bearing a gift of @captainswanbigbang. It’s been a whole other experience this time around because of adulting, but it’s done and I’m happy with it.
Shoutout to Taylor, my beta, for all her hard work (I’M SO SORRY, I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT YOUR TUMBLR IS, BUT I KNOW YOU’RE BANGIN), @wellhellotragic for all of her amazing artwork (AND SHE WAS A MOD TOO), acute appendicitis for knocking me off my feet and giving me a solid amount of time to actually start this story, @the-corsair-and-her-quill for making sure it got done on time, the entire Crazy Ex Girlfriend soundtrack, My Mix on YouTube, and this post from @initiala that started this whole thing many moons ago. 🙂
Killian Jones leads a difficult life. At a young age, his mother became ill and passed away, while his deadbeat father abandoned him for drinks and cards. This left Killian and his brother, Liam, orphaned save for each other.
Since then and until he aged out of the system, Killian has either been in foster care or Liam’s shadow, depending on his current situation. Any miniscule reason could send Killian from his bedroom in Liam’s hovel, back to a group home. Luckily, he always stayed local so Liam could visit him during his time off, or Killian could sneak off to Liam’s when he wanted to see his brother.
It’s taught him well, though, all the houses and bullies. He’s learned to be a survivor, because if anything, his experience in the American foster system has forced him to put himself first.
The clock hadn’t finished striking midnight on his 18th birthday when Killian waltzed into his brother’s apartment for the first time as an adult.
Summary: Homicide detective Killian Jones has been searching for a way to bring
Milah’s murderer to justice. There’s only one small problem: Robert Gold
is the captain of the same homicide division. Enter Emma Swan, Internal
Affairs investigator, looking into Gold’s shady dealings. Between the
two of them, can they unravel the web of deals and lies that have gotten
Gold to where he is?
Rated:T, for violence, some dark themes, angst, and whump (you expected different?
TW: character death, mention of past self-harm, fatal car accident, school hostage situation
Other ships: mentions past Millian in a good light, Outlaw Queen, Snowing
Art credit/link: The totally awesome @cocohook38 made the cover you can see above and on her blog here. Later in the story, she’s illustrated some key points to the fic and I can’t thank her enough for her work! Go show her some love!
Beta reader:@gusenitsaa took on this monster without probably knowing exactly what she was getting into (what do you mean 100,000 words?!) and any mistakes that you find are probably me being stubborn and ignoring her advice! Thank you!
Also, Swan was going to kill him – if she managed to figure out
where the bastard was hiding him in time.
But mostly that first one.
Killian should have waited for her. They were supposed to
be working together. He didn’t like her sticking her neck out while he
hid on the sidelines biding his time, but she was the Internal Affairs
Investigator, not him. And, she’d assured him while he scoffed his
dislike at sitting on his hands, they’d get better results – better evidence –
if he could fly under the radar. With all of the bad history between him
and her suspect, Emma had wanted him to remain as anonymous as possible.
Not quite so anonymous, after all. You’re a bloody idiot,
Jones.
He didn’t even know when it had all gone so wrong. He’d
thought they were careful to keep him out of it, leaving him as Swan’s eyes and
ears in the department. Then, he’d gotten a lead on a deal with the man
behind the curtain, the bastard orchestrating this whole thing. It was a
lead that, looking back, he should have realized was being handed to him on a
golden platter.
He should have waited for Swan.
But while patience was a virtue that Killian took pride in, it
had been nearly two years of false trails and dead ends and he hadn’t wanted to
waste any more of Swan’s time until he knew for sure. Not to mention, he
didn’t want to risk her if he didn’t have to.
So of course it had been a bloody trap. He could see now
that it was designed to lure Emma and whomever she was working with (assuming
that they didn’t know it was him already) into making just this mistake.
And he’d leapt in with both feet like a goddamned rookie.
Liam would have his head.
Killian roughly shoved away any thoughts of his brother when he
heard the creak of the warehouse door being lifted again. He prayed to
anyone, anything who would listen that it was Swan or Locksley or even
some teenagers breaking into the old building to do who-knew-what.
“I demand to see your master,” the words, spoken like a command, traveled through the front of his shop and reached him in his private study. Her voice was unmistakable, and carried the instant effect of making him hard, his cock twitching at the memory of that same voice encouraging him to take his pleasure.
Like a moth drawn to the flame, he went to find her. She was a vision in a black dress and laced gloves with tiny black ribbons and he ached to disrobe her and taker against every available surface.
It All Starts With a Dance 