nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable:

Summary:  Emma throws a surprise party for Killian in Storybrooke, one year post 5×21.  Fluffy-angst (because I seem incapable of straight up fluff at the moment)

A/N:  

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @gusenitsaa! This one’s for you!  Thank you for being such an amazing literary inspiration, so incredibly nice, wonderfully funny, and letting me play with you in The Corner on occasion. Here’s to many more great years (and heartwrenchingly-awesome fics) for you! (inspired by @sweetestinthegale‘s birthday discussion)

Word count: ~1,100

AO3 / FFN

In
the end, it didn’t really matter what Emma did to hide it, he didn’t see it
coming either way.  How could he, when not even he knew what day it was?

“SURPRISE!”

She heard him gasp at her side,
felt his body tense in shock, his elbow tightening against her.  She
couldn’t help the smile that threatened to split her face in two.

“What’s all this?” he managed,
glancing around the crowded diner.  It was decorated with streamers and
balloons, various food dishes and baked goods at every counter, and the smiling
faces of everyone Killian knew in town.

She smiled up at him.  “Your
birthday party,” she said.

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letmedieahooker:

Mr Hyde uses a new batch of his serum on Killian Jones, but while Emma Swan and his better half search for a solution, all his worse self appears to want is to enact his plan to defeat Rumplestiltskin once and for all, by whatever means necessary.

A/N: I was prompted and encouraged by various people to write a smutty serum’d Killian fic, but the waves of plot and character exploration carried me away and now it’s turned into a multi-chapter monstrosity, and the longest thing I’ve ever written. There’s smut, there’s angst, there’s even some fluff. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Updates will probably be slow because the chapters are loooong and my life is busy at the moment, but it’ll be worth it, I promise/hope.

Tagging my original prompters, betas, those who’ve expressed an interest and a couple I think might like it: @laschatzi, @hookaddict, @ahookedhero, @itwastruelove, @xemmaloveskillianx, @mahstatins, @swanscridhe, @flslp87, @ilovemesomekillianjones.

Chapter 1 

With her captain gone, no one had been around to look after the Jolly Roger. She hadn’t been re-painted for months. The sea spray and sun left her whites battered and her yellows dull, and Killian had taken it upon himself this weekend to bring her back to her full glory. Held fast with a makeshift harness roped to the main mast, he was suspended alongside the hull just above the cold water, reaching out occasionally to feel it lapping around his fingers and smiling. He was finally where he belonged, home.

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themmaswan:

The world’s most powerful spell-book inside Killian’s head? Impossible. Magic isn’t even real. Try telling that to (Very Special) Agent Emma Swan, who’s tasked herself with protecting that spell-book—and him in the process. Oh, and that fake relationship they’re now in to help her cover? Not optional. 

A Chuck-inspired AU during CS AU Week—well a taste, at least—because I can’t keep this to myself much longer. 

read on: AO3 

A sharp pain—reminding her very much of that stabbing she experienced in Phoenix—appears on her side just as she sprints across the rooftop to jump onto the next. 

The rogue agent lands with ease seconds before she does.

“Son of a bitch,” Emma mutters, landing hard on her knee and rolling her ankle in the process. She gets up with a wince, straightening out her leg as far as possible before a pain shoots up her calf and through the rest of her. “Neal!”

A blur of pressed suit and tall frame brushes past her in that instant, a male voice booming with an, “I’ve got him!” before he jumps to the next rooftop to catch up with the rogue agent. The agent stops at the ledge, crouches down, and aims his gun.

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hooklineandswan:

I’m a sucker for
‘friends to lovers’ or ‘enemies to lovers’ stories, and I love me
some angst. And when my muse decides we need to throw in some angry
and desperate smut before the happily ever after, I’m one happy
camper. 🙂

So this is rated
SAFAMS – aka smut, angst, feels … and more smut.

(on FF.net or AO3)

~~~~~~~~

The view from his apartment was breathtaking. He had an amazing look over the twinkling lights of the New York skyline. He wouldn’t be able to afford such a beautiful apartment, but it was Liam’s legacy. He’d been one of the best defense lawyers New York had ever seen and he’d made a fortune before he was ripped out of life way too soon. Killian still didn’t find the courage to get rid of the apartment. And honestly, he would be a fool. The apartment was right around the corner of his station, and he wasn’t ready to let go of the place that held so much happy memories. He just had to close his eyes and he could see Liam strolling into the living room and pressing a bottle of beer in his hand before slumping down beside him on the couch, cursing up a stream at whichever game was playing on the TV.

God, he missed his brother.

He couldn’t close his eyes today, though. He knew what awaited him if he did. His brain would replay what he’d seen this afternoon in vivid color, the scene replaying in his head on a loop. He balled his free hand into a fist at his side, lifting the tumbler in his other hand to his mouth and downing the rest of the scotch in it. The alcohol burned a path down his throat, and he welcomed the sensation.

He knew that drinking couldn’t erase the pictures in his head, but it helped to blur them.

Sometimes.

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jadeddiva:

i’m happy (hope you’re happy too)

Day 2 – Canon Divergence

Where Killian does not
die, and he and Emma stay Dark Ones.  5A
canon divergence.

I could write about CS dark ones forever.  Continuation of the birds of a feather story I reblogged yesterday but was written in November.

Thanks David Bowie for the title.

On AO3

It is strange to see the future.

Emma had known but
hadn’t, not really, not to the full extent that she does now.  The
knowledge came with the Darkness itself – an understanding of all that
is and was and every could or would be, something she had always assumed
with Gold but never really truly understood until now.

Now that the Darkness is within in, part of her.

Now that she is a Dark One.

Time
rushes by and then slows down, full of infinite possibilities that are
hers for the making if she so desires (and some of them, yes, she does
desire).

She doesn’t need to walk but she enjoys the click of her
heels against the pavement as she travels through a silent Storybrooke,
the sway of her hips reflected in the windows of the shuttered
storefronts (she enjoys reveling just a bit more in herself than she has
in some time).  She is alone: it is not yet nine, but everyone is
hidden away, plotting how to rid themselves of the Dark Ones.

Emma
stops at the intersection, looks down the street.  Through the blinds,
she can see the huddled masses inside Granny’s and thinks good – let them plan.  She has no reason to be afraid of them – even with Regina and Zelena’s combined power, they are no match for the Darkness.

“Should
a lady such as yourself be wandering these streets at night?” he asks,
appearing suddenly behind her.  His breath his hot against her neck, and
she can feel the light press of his hook against her hip, touching,
teasing, tempting.

“Are you implying that I’m not safe?” she responds, turning slowly with raised eyebrows.  “That I can’t take care of myself?”

Killian’s meets her look with a raised eyebrow of his own.

“You
never know what lurks in the shadows,” he says, offering his arm, and
Emma knows they will walk by Granny’s, a pair of intimidating, immortal
creatures dressed in black.  And she knows that the people inside will
be frightened (or will they? Perhaps seeing them will make the
townspeople will work harder to defeat them – or perhaps they will
ignore them).  She knows that afterwards, they may go to his ship, or to
the house, but it will end with her mouth on him and his hands in her
hair, and there will be new bruises on her neck that she will remove
with magic as soon as they are done.

“You’re right,” she tells
him, taking his arm with a smile, heart racing.  She loves it when they
play this game.  “Can’t be too careful in Storybrooke these days.”

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julietohara:

Show: Once Upon A Time
Characters: Emma Swan, Killian Jones, Background Chars
Ship: Captain Swan
Words: 2152
Notes: so i missed cs au week day one, but i needed to write something to get myself out of that slump. this block is killing me. anyway, this fits with the day one theme and i hope it’s okay if i tag it as such?? it’s a brooklyn nine-nine au because i’ve been rewatching and it still owns MY ASS. ahem. anyway thanks to @bluestoplights​ for encouraging me through my slump and proofing this for me, you’re a real trooper!! <33

[AO3] | [FF.net]

Emma resists the temptation to bash her head – or, more temptingly, the man across from her’s – repeatedly against the metal table of the interrogation room. He’s being particularly coy, all smirks and lofty words, as if she hadn’t just caught him with a metric shit ton of cocaine. It’s her fault, really, she knows her exhaustion and frustration is radiating off of her in waves. It’s easy for him to read that this is important for her. She resists the urge to check the time.

“Listen,” she sighs, sure she’s repeating herself even as she says the words. “The sooner you give me your supplier, the easier this all gets for you.”

“You mean for you,” he smirks. Emma resists the urge to growl at him, her fingers twitching where the rest against the cool metal. He leans forward, steepling his slim fingers under his sharp chin, and Emma can tell she’s being mocked before he opens his smarmy, british mouth. “Listen, lass, I don’t know what you’re talking about, alright? Those drugs aren’t even mine, someone must’ve slipped ‘em in me bag on the bus. Public transport, you know.”

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swallowedsong:

i don’t believe there’s nothing left

cs au week // day 7: free for all // aka human experiments on the run // aka idk what i’m doing but here is a thing that happened

1.

Faulty experiments are sent to the basement. That’s where she is. She was sent down two years, three months, five hours, and twenty three minutes ago.

(She’s been counting.)

The Corporation got to her, at first, because she was desperate. And desperation makes a human do many a dangerous thing. It wasn’t too bad in the beginning. She had three meals a day and an actual bed with pillows. She even thought that anything would be better than sleeping under that bridge one more night.

(She was wrong.)

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acrobat-elle:

CS AU Week / CS Self-Promo Sunday / Beloved Tropes / Neighbors AU

A/N: This is one of the first things I wrote for this fandom, and I thought I’d bring it back for today. The first chapter works fine as a stand-alone, but I did include a couple of follow-ups (one in which I forgot to write in past tense, one involving a hideous Christmas sweater, and another in one of my first forays into smut). Ahhh, memories!

Summary: 

Breaking your ankle is one thing. Breaking your ankle three days after you moved into a fifth-floor walkup is something else entirely.

Rating: T for language

Word Count: ~4,000

Tumblr | AO3 | FF.net