justanother-unluckysoul reblogged
Your Daily Killian Pick-Me-Up ⚓ [Day 185]
Cute lil puppy pirate ❤️❤️
WIP Wednesday: Take Your Innocence
Coming soon 😏
Killian Jones intrigued her from the moment she caught him watching from across the tavern, his hair falling into his wide eyes and a pink tinge to his cheeks. He looked for all the world like he’d never seen a woman before, and Emma wondered at his history as she sipped her rum. She couldn’t help it; she had always been too curious for her own good. Watching the deckhand - for that’s what he must have been - flinching and cowering at loud noises like a mistreated horse made her want to steal him away. She didn’t know quite why she was drawn to him. He was nice to look at, certainly, but Emma had never felt anything more than carnal desires for a man; nothing like the pull she felt to help this one, to comfort him, to hold him and protect him.
It was this pull that had her following him from the tavern into the night. She tried to tell herself she shouldn’t, but her feet carried her along in his trail anyway. When she found him again, curled up in the mud, taking his beating from the motley crew of thugs without so much as a whimper, Emma knew then that whatever it took, she had to have him.
Blackbeard was a cruel brute of a man, a bully, but beneath his bluster was a coward that couldn’t hold Emma’s cold stare, nor match her sharp tone when she demanded he turn his abused deckhand over to her. She offered him more than he thought Killian was worth and his eyes had bugged out when she tossed the pouch of coins onto his desk. He hadn’t quibbled after that, gleeful as he agreed to let her keep Killian. More trouble than he’s worth, that boy. Honestly I’m glad to be rid of him. Emma hadn’t bothered with a response. All that mattered was taking Killian far away from here.
He was so nervous, the trauma he’d been put through at Blackbeard’s hands making him afraid of her; although Emma herself had done nothing to warrant his fear. She had to be patient with him, keeping her movements slow, her voice gentle. The first time she’d offered him a choice, it nearly broke him. She’d seen his mind begin to fray in the trembling of his body, the soft panting of his breath as his eyes darted between her and the door. He’d mumbled an apology, frantic and shying away from her, as though afraid of what she would do to him.
A deckhand Killian/pirate captain Emma fic inspired by this prompt @caught-in-the-filter shared, and especially by her tags on it:
justanother-unluckysoul reblogged
Some Fairytale Bliss AKA: Deflowering the Deckhand
Thanks @kmomof4 for betaing and to everyone in the CSSNS discord for help with the title/puns
Set during Operation Mongoose: Part 2. Emma decides to teach the shy deckhand a thing or two about swordplay. Mostly just smut.
@snowbellewells because you asked :)
On Ao3
Trigger Warning: Brief mention of a past dub-con/underage loss of virginity. Everything that happens in this fic is fully consensual
-/-
Emma sits in the captain’s quarters, thrown by how familiar and different it somehow feels all at once. She’s been here so many times, has slept in that bed, sat on that desk trying to distract Killian from whatever he was writing in his journal. The room is the same as it always is but somehow just not quite right. She doesn’t know if it’s because the Author and Gold have never been in this cabin before, and had had to make it up based on what they imagined and what was in the original story book, or if it’s because in this reality, Blackbeard is the captain of the Jolly Roger.
So many things are the same, the wood, the furniture, the deep tapestries and rugs that adorn the floor and the walls, even the comforter on the bed beneath her is right, the same silky feel under her fingers. But the objects on the desk, the little bits of treasure that Killian had collected throughout his life and cared enough about to decorate his space with are missing. As is his brother’s sextant. And his books. It’s eerie and wrong to look at that empty shelf where both have always sat.
She shivers. She needs to get them back to their world, get Killian back to who he is, her parents too. That’s been harder than anything, knowing that her parents are evil in this realm, that they’re trying to kill Henry, that they’ll certainly kill her if they can. Everyone here is so different. But especially Killian. More than anything Killian. This version of him, he’s so shy, so sweet and so nervous, nothing of his usual swagger and confidence remaining. And the goat’s milk. Don’t get her started on the goat’s milk.
A smile pulls at her lip as she remembers the expression on his face when she’d defeated Lily, so excited, so anxious, but proud - of her. She remembers how he’d looked when she’d bumped into him in the tower too. He’d been dazed, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as he looked at her with no recognition but with the same awe, the same longing that her Killian so often looked at her with.
The difference this time was that while he looked at her as though she was the most beautiful woman in the world, he also looked at her as though she were the only, the first woman he’d ever held in his arms.
But she’d seen that desire too, that longing as he’d held her against him, but she could tell he didn’t know what to do with it, it had made him flustered and awkward as he pulled away to shake her hand, but not before she felt the hardness pressing against her.
He’d jumped back like she’d burned him, no quip or comment or flirtation, not even a wandering hand. He was a deer in the headlights, panicked and confused and so nervous. It had been confusing, but endearing too.
There’s a knock on the door and Emma looks up, asks who’s there, which feels ridiculous because there are only two other people on the ship, both of whom are welcome in the room with her.
“It’s Killian,” his voice answers, muffled through the door. “I’ve, um, I’ve found you some clothes,” he stutters.
“Come in.”
The door creaks open slowly, hesitantly, and Killian steps through, shoulders hunched and head hanging down, looking at the floor as he cradles some pants and a shirt neatly folded against his chest.
“You don’t have to ask to come into your own cabin, you know,” she tells him and he flushes, his hand coming to scratch behind his ear in a way that’s so familiar it makes her heart ache a little. She’ll get him back, she tells herself.
“Perhaps,” he starts slowly, “in your world this is my cabin. But it is certainly not in this one.” He clears his throat, holding the clothes out to her and she takes them from him, their fingers brushing as she does. He pulls his hand back quickly as his cheeks flame.
“Thank you,” she tells him, trying to catch his eye but he won’t look at her. She steps past him, locking the door so that Henry won’t come down and walk in on her changing - that boy doesn’t need any more traumatic teenager memories, Storybrooke does just fine in providing him enough of those. He’s up at the helm, sailing them back to the Enchanted Forest, but it’s better to be careful.
She sets the clothes down on the bed and starts to undress, working at the awkward, cumbersome buttons and fastenings of this land’s fashion. She misses her jeans. She hears a startled sound and looks up to see Killian staring at her, looking equal parts stunned and then ashamed when he meets her eye. He stumbles over his words, saying that he’ll leave her to get changed.
“You don’t have to go,” she tells him, raising a brow and he freezes. He looks like he very much wants to stay, but also like he very much wants to run out of here, leaving a Killian shaped hole in the door. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” she says casually. Or touched, or kissed or licked, her thoughts supply.
He clears his throat, looks back down at the floor. “I’m fairly certain I’d remember if I had,” he says and she smiles a little. Look at him, she thinks, that was almost flirting, almost a compliment. She continues undressing and he doesn’t leave but continues to stare at the floor.
“What’s the matter?” she asks, trying for gentle but maybe coming off a bit more annoyed than she means to. She’s basically told him that she doesn’t mind him watching her undress but he hasn’t made a single innuendo, hasn’t tried to touch her or even look at her. Instead he’s standing there looking scared and unsure of himself.
“It’s, um, it’s not appropriate,” he says. “For me to look at you in a state of undress.” She hears him mumble something about propriety that she barely catches but it’s the next thing he mumbles that makes her stop. She barely hears it, barely makes it out but she knows she heard the words ‘not worthy’ fall from his lips, a self-deprecating frown crossing his brow.
“Killian,” she says, dropping her hands from the fastenings. “Look at me.”
He keeps his gaze firmly fixed on the wood below his feet for another moment and she waits, waits until slowly, he raises his eyes to hers, focused on her face and not the buttons she’s managed to unlatch at her breast. She holds his gaze and resumes her task. His eyes flicker down quickly to where the bodice of her dress is open and his eyes widen, his chest rising and falling with heavy, shaky breaths.
She wonders then, not for the first time, exactly what backstory this version of him was given. He’s a deckhand, she knows that, and he’s allergic to rum and apparently a coward based on what Henry told her Blackbeard said. But as she thinks about the way he’s looking at her now, how he’d looked at her in the tower, had struggled to touch her, to even compliment her… holy shit. Was he a virgin? Did Gold make Captain Hook - the man who had seduced his wife away, made her fall in love with him - too afraid of speaking to women to ever have had one?
Self-Promo Sunday!
I’ve been having a lot of deckhand!Killian feels lately and this fic is probably the softest thing I’ve ever written.
Hope you like it!
justanother-unluckysoul reblogged
CS Hiatus Countdown (88 days): “I sense that we … may be close?”
justanother-unluckysoul reblogged
365 Days of Killian Jones ➡ Day 76
My Captain Cobra HEART!!!!
❤️❤️❤️
justanother-unluckysoul reblogged
366 Days of Captain Swan [358/366]
justanother-unluckysoul reblogged
AU cutie patootie Killian is everything (◡‿◡✿)
justanother-unluckysoul reblogged
here for Emma stroking AU!Killian’s chest
justanother-unluckysoul reblogged
{NEW} The Wreck of Our Hearts - A SilverHook Tale
He didn’t know her, but his soul did, and the twenty years that lay between them was suddenly nothing at all…
Cannon Divergent - Season 4 Finale
A SilverHook take on Operation Mongoose (aka Deckhand Hook)
For Maddie, you know why ❤
* * *
“Where’s your rum?” Emma teased, the taste of goat milk strong and sour on her palate. They were safe for now, the dragon vanquished, though they all knew the winged beast was only the start of their adventure. He was different here. Not simply older, though he was certainly that, hair streaked through with grey. Hard-earned lines crossed his still handsome face, though they certainly were not from laughter - that knowledge sat heavily in the pit of her stomach. What had happened to him? She wondered, watching him from the corner of her eye as he captained the ship he had loved for more than two centuries, a vessel which was as much a stranger to him as she was.
“Old bones, love,” he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes the way it should, and her heart lurched once more. The sunlight cut across his face much the same way it always had, the angles of his jaw casting shadows deep as fathoms. But there was an air of tiredness to him now, the grey peppering through his beard aging him less than the sag of his shoulders, weary with not only the time which stretched now between them, but for a life he was never meant to have lived without her. A step closer and she inhaled the familiar scent of him, something Gold and the author hadn’t been able to replace. The Jolly swayed familiarly beneath her feet as she hung on to the rope above her head while Henry came back up to the deck- can I sail her now?- and she watched him once more with her son.
Anger flared in her chest, hot and snapping like a caged beast. Why had they done this to him? She watched as this strange altered version of her fearsome pirate smiled wearily at her son, the bond which had grown and blossomed between them over the last months now a shadow of what they were.
Where does that leave us? she worried, the Jolly humming to life as Killian grasped the helm once more, chafed wrists painful now that the adrenaline of escape ebbed from her blood, but it would wait, and she stood against the rail, solid and familiar, watching the sun settle low on the sea.
* * *
A huge thank you to @elizabeethan for beta-ing this for me ❤
Tagging (drop me a note if you would like to be added!):
@elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @sailtoafarawayland @teamhook @xarandomdreamx @wefoundloveunderthelight @caught-in-the-filter @batana54 @ultraluckycatnd @veryverynotgood @veryverynotgoodwrites @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @jrob64 @kmomof4 @artistic-writer @gingerpolyglot @xarandomdreamx @xhookswenchx @justanother-unluckysoul @itsfabianadocarmo @zaharadessert @jadehowlettthewolf @xsjax @karlyfr13s @tiganasummertree @asluve
justanother-unluckysoul reblogged
Adrenaline.
His heart is beating faster than it ever has before. A surge of confidence fills his chest and his muscles stop their shaking as they grow stronger.
Solid. Rooting him to the floor as his feet become sturdier; no longer urging him to run.
The shock of standing up to someone- to fighting in a duel and winning rushes over him and he feels something new.
Pride.
He’s powerful now.
He sees Emma in the distance smiling back at him as he confronts the evil Queen, so sure in himself now that he’s beaten her prince.
It’s all so new and yet the tiniest spark inside him tells him it feels right.
He feels like he could be someone.
He feels like he could make a difference.
He feels like a hero.
“What about you, your majesty?” he asks as he circles the queen, basking in every drop of bravery that fills him by the second, “shall I make quick work-”
Pain rips through his chest just as Emma’s horrified cry hits his ears.
Red hot burning fills him.
He can’t speak.
He can’t move.
Blood rushes in his ears so much so he can barely register the venom being whispered to him from behind.
His body is frozen, shocked- the burning soon turns him cold as he sees Emma’s face… all he sees is Emma’s face.
This is the end. He can feel it.
But then…
He sees flashes. Swift images of another life.
He sees himself.
A captain. A ship and crew of his own. He’s respected. He’s feared. He’s brave.
A friend. He has people. He’s happy. He’s welcome. He belongs.
A lover. He’s wanted. He’s embraced. He’s cared for.
He’s found home. He’s found family. He’s found peace.
He’s loved.
They were telling the truth. In another life… he was someone.
Then he sees nothing but white light. His vision fails him as the blade is yanked from his back. He feels his face crumble as his legs- legs that were strong and firm moments ago, now collapse beneath him.
He feels his body shut down as he plummets to the ground, eyes long fallen heavy and closed.
He feels cold. He feels numb.
His essence leaves just as he hits the stone.
He feels no more.
He is no more.
justanother-unluckysoul reblogged
“I sense that we - may be close?”
“Very.”
CS Hiatus Rewatch (35 days): 4x21/22 - “Operation Mongoose” (Part 1)
justanother-unluckysoul reblogged
rememberelena
puppy!killian