Summary: Night shifts can be boring and lonely, especially in Storybrooke. So when Emma Swan starts listening to the radio during DJ Jones’ shift, it’s all too easy for a few song requests to turn into something more.
Rating: TThis story was commissioned by and written for @the-captains-ayebrows, who won an original one-shot in my 1k follower giveaway! This story was so much fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you to @swankkat for beta-reading!
Emma let out a frustrated whine and tossed the dried out pen in the trash. It was her last Pilot pen, and now she’d have to write with some piece of shit BIC. She always brought in her own pens because of how much she preferred them to the cheap ones that David bought for the department, but in the aftermath of the break-up, she’d forgotten she was down to her last one.
It was like she was a different person now, and she hated that. Ever since Neal, she’d made it a point to avoid relationships, knowing just how much she’d get hurt when they ended. She should have known better than to get more involved than a one-night stand. Granted, this time, she was the one who’d ended things, and she thought she’d been handling it pretty well. Apparently, she hadn’t been.
That was what had prompted David to change her shift. His reason hadn’t been bullshit—Mulan had gotten engaged, and it was taking a huge toll on her having to work a shift opposite Aurora. Still, Emma knew why David had really asked her to switch: because she couldn’t act cool around Graham.
Tag: fanfic
From Under the Ground (1/1)
Summary: The year is 2152, eighty-five years after the
world’s devestating nuclear war. Killian
Jones is a scribe for a not-quite-so-very-legal excavation (read: scavenging) team. In which he discovers a stash of audio logs
that he believes are from the 2080’s, and finds himself rather enamored with
the voice of a woman called Swan.Rated: T
Warnings: Language
Words: ~13k
Notes: Inspired by this post. Title borrowed from this song. Much love to @seastarved for beta-ing this
mess!
Red Hook, 4 May 2152, 8:00AM
At precisely eight in the morning, as he notes in his log, Killian Jones stands just outside his home on the edge of camp. It’s not much, a cottage of sorts – or a shack, really, compared to the homes he’s seen in books from years past – but it’s home and work nonetheless. He’d even managed to put a coat of paint on the slats, the sort of pale blue that reminds him of humid days on the coast, horizon pale behind the fog. He’d found the dented can of paint on one of his solo runs to a decrepit supermarket just across the river in Kingston. The label on the side, peeling and faded with time and war and the sort of forgetfulness brought on by both, had assured him only one coat would put his home in a brilliant shade of forget-me-not, whatever the bloody hell that meant. The can had given his Geiger counter a bit of trouble, much to David Nolan’s displeasure, suggesting the paint inside was a just a bit irradiated –
“Jones, you’re going to irradiate yourself straight to hell.”
“The expression, I believe, is no one asked you, Dave.”
This just came flooding out of me in about 30 minutes. I couldn’t stop it. I’ve given up that we’ll ever get this scene.
For the moment, the Evil Queen was nowhere to be found. Henry and Killian had ganged up on Emma,
pushing for a movie night. Emma
reluctantly agreed, remembering Hook’s gentle reminder to “enjoy the quiet
moments.”In their efforts to overrule Emma’s decision to keep searching out
Regina’s deranged half, Henry had suggested that it was time for Killian to get
a look at his animated counterpart.
Killian had ecstatically agreed, while Snow and Charming (who had already
seen the film) snickered behind his back.
Emma had just kept silent – she knew where this was going to lead. She’d tried to explain the animated Captain
Hook to Killian before, but he didn’t seem to believe that he could be
portrayed as anything but “dashing and handsome.”Henry was sprawled on the living room floor with a stack of comic books
and his phone by his side. Killian
lounged on the couch, his right arm slung over the back, his stockinged feet on
the coffee table.Emma entered the room with popcorn from the “heating box,” as Killian
called it. She handed a smaller bowl to
Henry and settled down next to Killian on the couch, dropping the other bowl in
his lap.“Ok, let ‘er rip, kid.” Emma grabbed
a handful of popcorn from the bowl on Killian’s lap and curled into his
side. He dropped his hooked arm around
her shoulders and pressed a kiss into the crown of her hair.Henry pressed a button on the remote and the movie flickered to life on
the screen.The first scenes of the movie went by with only a few snarky comments
from the pirate. He commented that Peter
Pan’s depiction was “fairly accurate” and that the Lady Bell was “too scantily
clad.” As the foursome of Peter Pan and
the Darling children flew off to Neverland, Henry looked back at Killian with a
smirk on his lips. He knew what was
coming.As the first glimpse of Neverland came into view, Killian scoffed. “Swan, you and the boy’ve been to
Neverland. This isn’t very accurate.”Emma grinned to herself and knew that things were only going to get
worse. Only moments later, the animated
and exaggerated pirate known to children around the world made his entrance on
screen. The bowl of popcorn on Killian’s
lap flew to the floor as he jumped to his feet in horror.“Bloody hell! Who the devil came up with
this?” He pointed at the screen in
fury. “That man is a farce! Look at that hair and those clothes! The moustache! This is appalling!”Henry was doubled over on the floor with laughter. Emma just sat up patiently, scooping the
popcorn back into the bowl.“Killian, I tried to warn you about this, but you didn’t want to
listen.” She tugged at his hand. “Sit down, it’s just a kid’s movie.”“Children shouldn’t be subjected to these blatant lies and abject
nonsense!” He stalked toward the TV and
snatched up the DVD case. “How can I
contact this Walt Disney? He needs to be
put in his place.”Henry continued to chortle with glee on the floor. “Killian,” he spoke between laughs, “Walt
Disney has been dead for about fifty years.”“Well, that’s good news for him, because if I’d gotten my hands on him…” He skimmed the back of the DVD case. “What about this J.M. Barrie fellow?”
“Also dead.” Henry sat up on the
floor, wiping the tears of glee from his eyes.
“For about eighty years.”Killian shook his head and looked over at Emma, who had been watching the
exchange in between picking up kernels of popcorn from the carpet. “You knew about this? You knew about this all along.”She motioned for him to come back and join her on the couch. He did, clutching the DVD case in his hand,
his eyes never leaving the animated shenanigans on the television.“I told you, I tried to warn you.”
She tangled her fingers with his and pulled him back down next to
her. She smirked at him and pressed a
soft kiss to his lips. “I got the better
version though.”A handful of popcorn rained down on them from Henry’s direction. “Jeez, you guys are gross.”
“Sunglasses and Silly Hats”
Middle school teacher Emma Swan is pissed.
Her dumbass ex ran up her credit card during one of his hairbrained get-rich schemes before he hightailed it out of town. Now, faced with financial ruin, she’s spending her summer working at ‘HATS ETC’ on the boardwalk in Storybrooke, selling novelty beach goods to tourists.
While she enviously watches as people lie on the beach, a newcomer to town starts to frequent the store. It’s only when he’s buying his seventh pair of sunglasses in three weeks that she starts to wonder what really keeps bringing him back…
send me a made-up fic title and i’ll tell you what i would write to go with it
CS FF: Late Night Confessions
Summary: Missing scene from 6×06. While lying in bed that night, Killian and Emma discuss the events of the day.
Rating: G
Read all my fics here: Fanfiction.net and AO3
Note: I loved 6×06, but I need more CS. I need them to really discuss the things that have happened. I’ve already written about the lies and secrets before, so I just wanted to explore some of the things that happened in this last episode. Just a short thing! Hope you enjoy it! ~Steph
…Late Night Confessions: Part 1/1…
He felt her eyes on his face as they lay beside each other in bed late that night.
“I could never hate you,” she whispered in the dark.
Killian turned to face Emma, his gaze meeting hers. “What?”
He saw the tiny smile appear on her face, which was bathed in moonlight. “You said that you couldn’t lose the one thing that could save me, even if it meant I hated you for it.” She paused, shaking her head slightly. “There’s nothing you could ever do that would make me hate you, Killian. I love you so much. And I know that everything you do is out of love for me and in an effort to protect me.”
He nodded, as he reached out and caressed her cheek. “Thank you for being so understanding, love.”
“How could I not be after everything I did to save your life?” she said.
“And I’ll do everything in my power to save yours, Swan. As I told your boy, we will find another way to save you.”
Emma sucked in a breath. “You know, I think a part of me gave you those shears, instead of my parents or Regina, because I knew there was a chance you would hold onto them. I think a part of me wanted you to. I said I didn’t want them to fall into the wrong hands, but, the truth is, I was afraid I might be tempted to use them. But by giving them to you… deep down, I think I believed then I might still have them as an option if the worst happened.”
Killian swallowed hard, as a lump formed in his throat. “I’m sorry, Emma. Perhaps I should have come clean about my deception before disposing of them, like you had originally asked. Perhaps I should have given you the chance to change your mind.”
Emma shook her head. “No, you made the right decision. Severing the ties to my fate isn’t the answer. I need to find a way to change my fate.”
Caught Inside by @amagicalship
FBI Agent Emma Swan goes undercover to determine if a gang of surfers is responsible for a recent string of priceless art heists. What she doesn’t expect is to get in too deep with one of the suspects. Can she keep her head above the water as the stakes get higher? Or will the waves of danger leave her caught inside?
Happy birthday my dear Carrie! I am so thankful to have met you and I cherish every single moment we’ve shared together. May your day be filled with joy!
fic: Hail to the Chief., 1/1. (AU; Captain Swan.)
presidential campaign AU, with speechwriter-Killian and volunteer-Emma!
9,882 words | adult | AO3a/n: This came out of almost nowhere at lunchtime yesterday, and I was hellbent on getting it done, because it’s kind of timely. On the other hand, if you’re reading this, and you’re eligible and able to vote, but haven’t done so yet, please go do that instead. 😀
It’s not really altruism that led her here.
Or, well, not entirely altruism.
Because while you can be hungry, tired, and homeless and still want good things for the country, you have to prioritize, and finding yourself a place to sleep for the night beats finding a rich politician a place to sleep for the next four years.
It does turn out, however, that helping that politician often comes with free pizza and that sleeping in the campaign office — whether or not it’s because you don’t have anywhere else to go — is the mark of a dedicated volunteer.
Dedicated enough to accidentally end up on the payroll.
And that is what actually led her here.
To election night in New York City and Killian Jones’ hand on her breast in the moment after they call Nevada for Mills.
(Of course, a lot of stuff happened in between.)
Sometimes Lovers (Mostly Friends)
malookiya said: Prompt: CS friends with benefits
Summary: She kisses him the first time because he needs it, and it continues because they both do, but as it does neither of them have an idea of where they will end up.
A/N: Well, this one ran away with me, and it is super different from anything I’ve ever done, but I have to say I’m actually pretty proud of how it turned out (all 7000 words of it – I’m sorry it’s so long). I will say for this one that I am not a smut writer, nor will I ever be, so this may take a different direction than you may expect.
She was sure there had been a time before she knew Killian Jones, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember it – and she really didn’t want to. He was the one constant as she bounced from home to home, the one person who knew that her parents – the sets upon sets of parents at homes that became more and more temporary – weren’t actually her parents in the sense that people usually meant by that word. She didn’t doubt that a foster family – or, if you were lucky, an adoptive family – could become your family family, but it just never happened for her. All she ever had was the necessary lie of I’m Emma, and these are my parents. That, and him.
Good fortune.
Of Pumpkins and Parties
A sequel to last year’s Of Pumpkins and Pickup Lines, which is set the following Halloween. All you really need to know is that Killian wins contests for his pumpkin carving.
There are thirteen pumpkins leading to the open front door. Henry had insisted on thirteen, since he claimed it was the perfect scary number, and Killian had obliged him (as usual. That man was putty to Henry’s every crazy whim.) The designs on the pumpkins range from classic jack ‘o lanterns to an intricate pirate ship, perfectly carved sails catching the flickering breeze of the battery-operated candle within.
“You think I should have bought more candy corn?” Emma asks. She leans close to Killian to whisper the anxious question. As she does so, his sword bumps against hers and a light plastic tink is barely heard over the chatter of the party.
Killian makes a face. “Any was enough, love.” She rolls her eyes and looks back to the snack table. Emma had forgotten his distaste for the fall treat. There really is no accounting for taste, and as she steps forward to grab a few pieces of candy corn, she mentally reminds herself to pick some half priced candy up tomorrow at the drug store.
Any retort on Killian’s tongue is swept away by the arrival of Mary Margaret and David, dressed as a prisoner and a sexy police officer.
“Nice shorts, mate,” Killian scoffs.
David grins broadly and strikes a pose, the navy blue fabric leaving way not enough to the imagination for Emma’s comfort. “Thanks,” he retorts with a sassy wink. “But if your girlfriend doesn’t shape up, I’ll have to arrest her too.”
It All Starts With a Dance 