“It’s about bloody time,” Killian’s voice thundered at the two men who straggled up to him travel-worn and half-dazed.
“Oy, don’t be givin’ us that dross,” Will Scarlet snapped back. He thumped his fist on his own chest. “‘Ere yer message comes, askin’ us a favor, and ye’ve got the gall to spout off a greetin’ like that? An’ all low an’ growly to boot? Think ya scare me, Jones? Sod off.”
“Can it, the both of you.” Robin Locksley stepped between Killian and Will, a palm planted on either of their shoulders. “Didn’t sound from your dispatch that we had extra time for bickering, Killian.”
Killian ran a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Apologies, mate. Suppose I’m a bit…tense.”
“Aye, ya think?” Will snorted, obviously still miffed.
“I gather time is of the essence here, Killian, but perhaps you could elaborate more on this life and death situation we’re walking into? Don’t misunderstand me, I’m positive you weren’t exaggerating, but is there a reason you needed two ex-Navy fellows from across the continent?”
My work life is a mess right now and I work and then eat and then sleep, but I have 10 minutes this morning and here…here is a thing I wrote in that time.
Emma and Killian have been happy for years, the perfect story of best friends turned lovers, but all of that changes, when a ghost from Killian’s past came back and threw everything away. One kiss forced over a bar, and he needs to try and show Emma, who won’t even speak with him, that she wasn’t wrong about him, and that he still loves her. Modern Day A/U/song fic
Summary: A high school au, Emma moves in with her new foster mother in a town cursed by an evil queen only Emma can break the curse if Killian Jones can get Emma to believe.
Chapter summary:
Killian desperately tries to make Emma to believe, Charming finds out more of his past, meanwhile an earthquake causes Emma and Regina get trapped in an old mine where a gruesome discovery is made. tagging my buds @killianthesurvivor@alltoosure@justa-captainswanshipper@the-pirate-and-the-princess sorry for late update I’ve just been lazy :}
Warning: I don’t usually do this but there will be a character death in this chapter so you have been warned :)) happy reading
Regina sat frowning holding her glass of untouched scotch looking over all the information in front of her she had Emma’s file and a whole bunch of others all over her desk but what to do with all this information. So far her efforts where barley effective, was she holding back losing her touch before she could answer for herself the blind witch did.
“What are we doing” she asked sarcastically getting impatient she wanted this over this curse to remain unbroken. Regina looked up at her scolding mainly because she was right firing Mary Margret might have been fun but it didn’t accomplish much in stopping the saviour from breaking the curse.
for my name twin and november buddy and just an all around lil nugget @queenemmaswan – happy birthday, Amy! I hope your day is as wonderful as you are. and all my love to @high-seas-swan for being a brilliant lifesaver (ficsaver?) (both, tbh).
soulmate au where you get a tattoo telling you the time and place you’ll meet them + “mine says 11:59pm, New Year’s Eve, Times Square. fuck.”
Under usual circumstances,
people move to New York City for the lights, the glamour, the opportunity to
make it big. Killian Jones wasn’t part of that conventional crowd. No, he’d
moved here because of the small print under his left collarbone that he’d seen
rather unceremoniously one morning in October while shaving, the shock of it
nearly causing him to take his ear off with his razor.
Soulmate tattoos aren’t rare,
but they aren’t exactly easy to come by either. The only person he knows of
that has one is Robin, and he lucked out by having the name of the bar he
manages appear on the inside of his forearm. He organised all his shifts
according to the time and month on the tattoo, and sure enough, in less than a
year, he’d found Regina. The same ink as his – 4:30pm, June, The Green
Tavern – on the back of her neck.
Most people weren’t that
fortunate. Some, he’s heard, spend years waiting but never find the one they
are destined for, and eventually give up.
Killian has never been one to
give in. No matter how shitty the hand he’s been dealt. Even though Robin’s
day wasn’t specific, at least the place was spot on. Because, really, Times
Square on New Year’s Eve just as the ball’s about to drop? Bloody hell,
you’ve got to be kidding him.
“Hard and fast,” she’d panted when he asked how she wanted it. “Just…fuck me, okay?”
Too much, too much kept happening. Emma didn’t have time to get lost in him, she just wanted to stop feeling and feel him.
Only it wasn’t fucking working.
“Swan,” he grunted, his hips driving hard and accurate and unrelenting. It was good, it was always good; her thighs wide, her feet planted firmly on the mattress, her arms over her head, palms braced on the wall, elbows straining with effort as he fucked and fucked and fucked, again and again, just like she asked. And he looked magnificent, too–the cords in his neck straining, his abdominal muscles outlined in perfect relief, his shoulders tense as he worked. There was a pleasant and perfectly lovely buzz, an almost, deep inside. With each thrust she could feel it, tried clenching down on it to help it along.
Still not working.
“Love,” he tried again, his voice clearly strained with the effort to keep from coming. “This is some of my best work here.” As if to prove his point, he swirled his hips on the downthrust and she gasped in delight, that almost-feeling flaring with brief promise.
A/N: There’s a very wise saying: God laughs while we make plans. I had to do a lot of soul searching, as well as writing, to realize that my initial plans for this story were more than a little ambitious. As such, I have decided to break my ideas up into a separate story; I am far from done with this universe and these characters. Thank you all for your support and your patience with the long breaks, and especially to those who nominated me for the Captain Swan Fan Fiction Awards for this year; I am truly humbled and awed by your kindness. Hopefully, the sequel will take shape much more quickly, but I do have a lot of writing and ideas to work through; please keep an eye out for the next installment, Her Cruel Mercy. Available at FFN and AO3. Enjoy!
“Swan, please,” Killian begged unashamedly, sprawled out like a starfish on the big bed. He was completely nude and his hips rocked upwards, desperate to feel her warm mouth on his hard and aching flesh. She’d been tormenting him for what felt like hours, warm breath teasing every square inch of his skin but never actually touching him with her pink tongue or her pink lips…and this was his punishment for his quip in the vault.
“You’re not worried about snake tongue breath?”
She looked up, tongue poking out from between her teeth and a gleeful smile crossing her face at his low curse. Still, it lightened his heavy heart to see the curve of her lips instead of the worry line that was ever present between her brows these days. He reached down and ran his fingers through her hair, rings tangling in the long, golden strands, “Emma. Kiss me with that mouth.”
His head fell back to the pillow and a shudder ripped through him when she finally did.
“Besides,” he choked out, cupping the back of her head as her hair spread across his hips and ticked the tops of his thighs, “It’s nothing a little rum wouldn’t fix.”
Post conversation. Emma needs more reassurance from Killian when they’re alone that night.
He knows what she needs before she asks it of him, her back
arching against the tangled sheets of their bed, her eyes shadowed and her
hands pressed tight against his bare skin. There are nights when she needs the
silence between them – needs to hear the way his breath stutters and starts
between them as she moves. How it matches her own and falls in time with the
staccato of his heart.
But then there are nights when she needs to hear him – needs
his words in her ear just as much as his teeth upon her neck to help her to
forget.
It All Starts With a Dance 