Who: Hooked Queen (Regina & Killian) What: An important discussion that leads to an important decision When: After these texts Where: The House of Villainy Rating/Warning: Nudity, some adultish things Status: Complete!
Inside the massive, tastefully decorated home was mostly silence. Henry was at his other home bonding with his infant baby brother, Kenzi hadn’t moved in quite yet but was probably off with the hermit of a love interest, and the only other inhabitant was a silvery cat slinking around unnoticed, the only sign of her presence the glittering gold and slitted eyes. Wherever she was. An empty home was what ensured Regina’s statement of stark nudity held truth, though that smooth and bare body was cocooned by the bed’s duvet. The television was on, some sort of mindless reality television show that surely had the capability of murdering brain cells, but she wasn’t paying much attention. Killian’s news held her thoughts captive and all she could think about was that baby - who would be the same one she held and helped care for and learned to love, regardless her twisted method of conception.
It was her niece. Robin’s baby, from a demented scheme orchestrated by her supposedly redeemed older sister. Yet she had been prepared to raise her with the thief if it came down to it, perhaps form a semblance of her own family with Roland too - all until it was ruined with her ‘true love’s’ (a fairytale law she dismissed in this world) death. Roland was gone. And Zelena was apparently mentally and emotionally stable enough to take the reigns on motherhood, imagine that.
The parallels became flesh here. It was entirely possible that motherhood could kick this Zelena’s non-green ass into gear work hard for her child, or maybe she just wasn’t prepared and would do the best thing for the both of them once she was in her arms.
Either way, Regina knew she couldn’t sit back and not involve herself in some way. Personally or anonymously.
From upstairs she could hear the sound of the door open, the scuffling of boots, and she lowered the volume of the television to confirm it. Killian was home.
Scuffling boots, dark jeans, leather. Creased brow and inky hair that flopped into eyes that were blue as the forget-me-not, currently far-off as if he had been thinking the whole way home. Which, of course, Killian had been. The ‘business’ meetings with clients - one at the houseboat and one at a bar, a quiet and unassuming place, had gone smoothly and he’d managed to remain focused enough to take good notes, to ask the right questions. But the drive in his Mustang on the way back was something else entirely.
He headed upstairs, and his bones felt weary - he also felt nervous, but gods, look at what Regina was suggesting. Before her, and before he’d gotten his life mostly together, he’d been a cracked veneer hiding a lonely, broken person, bloodstains and rusted bolts. Now he was better. Moving on to serious talks of parenthood, what a journey. And Killian supposed that if it was going to be with anyone, it should be with her - the woman he was drawn to (admittedly in the dreams too, perhaps the stars had never aligned for ‘True Love’ bullshit but they still had history regardless). Like something in the centre of him was magnetised, fingers beckoning him to where he needed to be.
Which was in the doorway to the bedroom right now - he’d even taken his boots off and stowed them carefully, working on the rest of his clothes along the way. “Alright, I’m here, and I hope the ‘birthday suit only’ dress code for this party is still applicable,” he chuckled, slinking onto the bed.
Mmmm, well. Hello there, sailor. Regina lifted the blanket to indeed reveal the birthday suit, which meant everything was bare and exposed as promised, and she drew him for the entanglement of limbs. A kiss to his mouth too, as more of a formal greeting.
“I kept my word,” she smirked in the dimness of the room - right now the brightness of the television screen provided a pathetic excuse for light, but she could see him clear as day. Her fingers pushed the stray strands of hair from his eyes. “I’m guessing everything went well with your clients?” Hopefully he didn’t have to anywhere far anytime soon; it was part of the package, she was well-aware but also was shamelessly selfish. No crime in wanting to keep him in bed with her, was there?
And besides, she wanted to get him comfortable before the anvil dropped between them and they’d discuss…that.
“Smooth as silk, darling,” Killian responded, referring to his meet-ups with clients. He didn’t work normal hours, really. Try as he might, to do something more 9-5 than what he’d done before, it just hadn’t happened - but being accommodating was important, in order to build up his business.
He settled, balancing weight on his forearms and trapping Regina between his knees - well, he had one on either side of her now, essentially a pirate blanket atop her, and he dropped his head to let his face come in contact with her skin and scent of her perfume; he wasn’t sure if the aroma of cloves and exotic flowers was her or what (or even if it was just his nose) but it suited. “I’m not traveling for a little while - I’ll have to in a bit, but for now I’m in town and all yours.”
The Queen’s personal body pillow, to snuggle with and hold. Now if only the cat didn’t jump up here and hiss for attention.
No intervention from the prowling feline. Not yet, anyway - she was overall friendly and kept to herself (and actually didn’t dare to stare Regina in the eye while simultaneously knocking something breakable over with a swift bitchslap of her paw) but had a habit of somewhat intentionally distracting the queen away from her pirate. Housing a cat of all things - with their tendency to claw furniture and stink up a house with their impossible stench of piss - wasn’t on the top of her list in any world but, well, she’d grown fond of Tigra.
Now with a pirate body pillow draped over her she let the tip of her nails gently scrape across his scalp, tender motions of a head scratch for her man-cat. “I guess the hustle of business is a good sign,” she sighed, almost with a pout. Regina ran hers, she knew that getting out there and keeping busy was the only way to sell independent services. Killian was doing exactly that. “Did you get all that panic out of your system after our texts?”
It was a subject grazed upon once before but Zelena’s predicament was going to make them look at the idea with a more serious intention - whether they liked or not.
The man-cat (or actually, he was feeling rather kittenish right now) purred quite happily upon receiving those scritches. It was rather easy to soothe the savage beast - just use nails and give him attention in all the right spots. Scalp, under the chin, balls if you were so inclined (oh ho) - and really, he’d be a jolly good, happy sailor.
“Panic settled into nerves, mostly,” he admitted, shifting to lie beside Regina rather than directly on top of her - limbs still twisted together, still entangled, yet he could hold her to him this way. Which was nice, if you asked him, even if he only possessed one flesh and blood arm to do it with. “I’m not running anywhere though. This is obviously something, pretending like Zelena went through with an adoption and we could just head to Kentucky and pick up a sprog, you know that you want?”
He was aware that the attempts to have a child before, with the first husband, had been difficult to deal with when the pregnancies never panned out. But it seemed like Regina had always desired to be a mother - the instinct was certainly present.
It’s not like Regina was suffering the side effects of baby fever or what have you - the people in Orange County were reproducing enough, and she had Henry, and had the opportunity to help out with little Niko. Really, if this hadn’t popped up the idea of adopting would be something to entertain a couple years down the road. Not now, when she and Killian were just experiencing their relationship in the ‘shacked up’ phase of things.
But there was a certain emotional investment she had in that baby just like she had with Henry - it was a little human she’d never met, never held, never sang and yet that didn’t stop her from feeling like there was a connection. While she may have been the child of a man she loved in another life, that baby was, most importantly, her niece. A blood tie she wanted to know. A blood tie she wanted to have in her life because the other women in her biological family had a high potential for the vicious sort of crazy.
Her body shifted against him, fingers thoughtfully tracing symbols on his chest that held no meaning. “I want that sprog,” which was a somewhat hilarious term for a baby, “to be alright. I want my sister to have her needs in mind. If Zelena wants to give her up for her own good, that’s fine, but I’m not going to put my faith in the system. I was ready to raise her in Storybrooke, and I can...raise her here, if I need to. With you.”
Assuming he’d want to.
“No, the system in this country’s not the best,” Killian said, though he supposed it wasn’t much better elsewhere either - there seemed to be loads of problems with foster care and the adoptive process in general. Which was why he’d closely monitor the situation with Zelena and, if need be, ensure (using whatever skill he had to, mind you) that the baby girl she had went to the people who could care for her like how an innocent babe deserved - which was clearly the aunt she had a bloodtie to, and jury was still out on if this pirate was ready for the responsibility of fatherhood. Or if he’d even be any good at it.
He sighed, the puff of air sending strands of Regina’s hair flying. “Obviously, she’d be best with you. With me? I don’t know...” Having doubts about his own ability to parent was disconcerting; felt like being doused repeatedly by waves of cold water - wake up, get a grip, this is a bad idea, and so forth.
They’d talked about it, he and Regina, but talking when the possibility wasn’t even close to being a reality seemed safer. Now he was just panicking. A little. “If I did ever go down that road, sometimes in the past I’d get a fleeting thought that it’d might be nice to have a girl. But I haven’t anything to go by - I’ve no idea how to be a father, it’s...a bit terrifying.” And at first, maybe it would be. Maybe that was natural. He did want this too though.
A part of her was almost afraid of discussing this so seriously - she didn’t want to get so used to the idea of raising her niece as her own and then have that hope crash down and make the largest emotional crater in goddamn existence if Zelena changed her mind. It was necessary, though. It was a possibility. All possibilities had a chance of become a definite reality, and taking that child in would change everything. Forever.
Including them.
“It’s not the easiest thing to be,” Regina told him, honestly. “I made a lot of mistakes raising Henry in Storybrooke. I made him think he was insane, and I was terrible to him without even realizing it, and I hate every memory of it.” Hell, she hadn’t been a sterling example of a mother herself - there were so many things the queen she was there would take back in regards to raising her son, but all she could do was be better for him going forth. Parents weren’t perfect. “It’s probably not the best way to sell the idea for you, but we both know exactly what we shouldn’t be to a child.”
His father. Her mother. They also had Niko to look after, which was something of a taste towards actual parenthood - they there to help Emma and Neal through the good times and the bad when it came to both their boys.
This one just had the potential to be theirs.
If they did this, the next eighteen or so years would be long - and filled with trials and tribulations, loads of mistakes and even bigger failures. Not like the child also magically became self-sufficient at age eighteen too - legally, they were adults, but who had their head on straight and their life together at age eighteen? Killian certainly hadn’t. He knew very few people who did.
So really, they were talking the next twenty-three years (that seemed safe, and gods, he at least hoped any sprog would have their own health insurance by then unless Drumpf won the election and the Captain carted his family to Canada where universal health care was a thing) of being responsible for another person. Daunting. Just a little.
“I suppose knowing what not to do is a place to start,” he snorted a laugh. “Well, it’s a lot, but...should the opportunity arise, I think we should go through with it.”
Could they not name the little girl something weird though? Seemed like everyone in Storybrooke had a penchant for picking names of the recently deceased, and getting it all wrong.
Lucky enough, the bed (theirs now, considering this was his home too) was big enough to handle another roll of bodies - this time Regina was on top, and she had claimed his mouth with hers. The kiss was soft, sweet even, a tender side reserved for him. “You know how I know you can do this?” she asked the moment their lips were free.
No one was ever ready for the challenges of parenthood, not really. All the books, the articles found through google, people’s stories - it could give a basic idea of what to expect but you never actually figure it out until there’s a baby of your own to look after. There wasn’t just one universal experience to condense in some step-by-step manual or website.
“Your sister,” was her response after a couple seconds. A finger tapped his cheek. “You changed when she came into the picture - you became the big brother she needed.” It’s not like the mini-pirate was exactly helpless; she was the scrappy sort, a survivor like her brother, but despite knowing that he still did all he could to help take care of her. “You’ve got it in you, Killian. You’ll see.”
“I tried - had no idea what I was doing, but I attempted to think of it like in terms of...what Liam would have done,” Killian rumbled, not minding the swap in positions in the slightest. All that olive-toned skin poured on him like honey - he was of course a lech, and that meant he tugged the blanket down so Regina’s gloriously nude body wouldn’t be covered up very much. Unless it was his mouth doing the covering, which was what he desired. “Probably drove her a bit mad too at some points but that’s what you do when you love someone.”
But Regina’s words at least helped to bolster his confidence a little. If she believed that he could do this, that they could, then he would believe her - she wouldn’t lie to him, or blow smoke up his bum about something so important.
Or at all, really. She was more the ‘cut you where you stand’ sort, not the ‘coddle you’ sort.
He arched up a little more for another kiss, with a gentle caress of roughened fingertips all up and down her back while he enjoyed the press of A+ breasts against his chest. “Hm, it seems we’ve officially decided then?”
His mouth better be doing the covering at some point - without the covers her royal behind was a little chilly, and she may have writhed on top of him when the small gusts of cool air from the ceiling fan hit exposed skin. Killian was thankfully warm, that flesh to flesh contact compensating.
“Mmm,” Regina murmured against his mouth, fingertips grazing the outline of his ear. “I suppose we have?” If the situation faced them. Was it awful that she felt those little flutters of excitement, all in the depths of that blackened heart? “It’s not like we don’t have that extra room,” she went on to reference the smaller room currently used for miscellaneous storage. It all needed to be sorted anyway, so many things to donate or toss. “I don’t want to get ahead of ourselves in case she keeps her - I don’t know how to exactly prepare for this sort of thing without getting our hopes up.”
There were loads of ways to keep Her Majesty’s royal derriere warm, and Killian wouldn’t skimp on any. That was simply the diligent kind of fellow that he was. And oh, she was wiggling and writhing, that was entirely unfair - he wasn’t going to be able to focus on actual conversation for much longer.
“We can be cautiously optimistic,” he decided, though it came out somewhat growly. His shark’s teeth nibbled at Regina’s lower lip, hand going for gusto and just resting on her backside. Or squeezing rather, that too. “And no matter, I’m going to monitor the situation - will monitor her. Obviously it’ll be different if she’s with us, but even if Zelena decides to keep her then that won’t mean I’ll let the little girl drop off the radar.” He knew Regina would want to make sure she was flourishing and thriving, it was important to her - so it was important to Killian too.
Well, that was at least something Regina could live with. Knowing that in the end, her sister had done right by her daughter and gave her the best she could - doing it alone under the circumstances Zelena face wasn’t exactly going to be easy, but she wasn’t going to suddenly barge into her life and dictate how she should live it.
Killian’s bout of obvious frustration made her huff a soft, amused laugh. “I suppose that’ll help me sleep at night,” she told him, rubbing the tip of her nose against his. “I didn’t think we’d have this talk so seriously after you moved in so soon, but you should probably invest more time changing dirty diapers with Niko. A little extra preparation wouldn’t hurt.”
And, really, the parents would probably thank him for it.
“If it helps you sleep at night, well, I will gladly do whatever you wish,” Killian promised - and he was sufficiently frustrated, which was why he rolled over and went back to pinning her this time. A game of switcheroo, and trading off dominance - likely, she’d get it back at some point. This particular game was always fun.
Changing nappies, however? Not so fun. The few times Killian had done it though, he’d been pretty decent at the task. Niko only pissed in his direction once or twice before he got the hang of pointing his wee winkie south. At least with a girl, should that happen for he and Regina, it wouldn’t be a worry. “Nappies and spit-up, I’m sure the parents wouldn’t mind missing some of that.”
The Captain sighed, planting a kiss with his whole scruffy face on his lady love. “Just consider me an expert in training.”
How frisky her pirate was getting! A purr vibrated from her throat, knees open and gripping his sides. Polished nails lightly caressed the length of his arms, and her mouth sprinkled the curve of his throat with little kisses. "In any case, you've got time to warm up to it more."
Perhaps not a nine month stretch of parental preparation should it happen - because again, her biggest fear was preparing like it would actually happen and then it all falling through, though she knew Killian would help her step lightly - but it was still time to get more accustomed to how it could be. "Baby slings would be such a charming look on you thought, don't you agree?"
Ah, look how far the notorious Captain Hook had come. Regina was, indeed, grinning wickedly at the mental image.
Killian would gladly hold his dearest Queen back a bit - he’d attempt to be the voice of reason which he wasn’t necessarily terrible at doing, but it was just a role he didn’t fall into that often. Still, he’d try. And for Regina he’d do just about anything anyway.
“As long as we can find a leather baby sling,” he quipped, returning the favour of having nails dug into him - something he found rather pleasurable - by doing some more nibbling with pearly teeth, hips pressing down for friction and to show the love. Lots of love to give here. “Now I suppose you know the secret to having these talks, don’t you? Just forgo the clothing entirely.”
Because it’d been a success, right? Well, lesson learned for next time. Nudity helped pave the way for important decisions.
So much love indeed, and how could she not feel it when it was stiff and grinding up between her thighs? Regina breathed a subtle moan, and her slender body tilted up into him. "The secret to get you into doing anything is seduction, darling," she challenged, the curve of an eyebrow raising at her lover. "You're a fairly simple man in that regard."
Now her legs bent to hook around his midsection more securely, which allowed a more controll roll of bodies - switched again, her majesty on top. "Though we should practice being quiet, hm? While we have the freedom to mess up."
Or she could wreck him like he asked, wherever the supplies of his 'shopping spree' were stashed. It'd be quite a way to celebrate their decision, wouldn't it?