#Killian Jones one shot

[justanoasisimagines]

Jealously Headcanons

Hey lovelies back with another jealously Headcanon. My requests ar open and you can find my guidlines pinned on the top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider

❀Killian will admit he's a possessive person. If you're his then you're his. Plan and simple. He wants people to know you're together so they're aware you're off limits.

❀He knows you're beautiful, an alluring little siren. He's heard your song himself. With that being said, it doesn't give anyone the right to attempt to attempt to steal you away from him.

❀Kilian is not afraid to confront anyone. He doesn't want anyone flirting with you whether it's verbal or touching. He cannot stand when someone brushes their hand over your back or wraps an arm around your waist. You are not theirs to touch like that.

❀Killian has two forms of confrontation. The first he approaches them with his usual confident self. Many find his presence intimidating enough and some scapper off. However, some people are brazen enough to stick around. Naturally, Killian uses his charm and wit to passively get the individual away from you.

❀Killian's sarcastic and nonchalant, underneath it's bothering him. Most of the time, it's enough to get them to leave. Sometimes the individual when they realise you're with Killian.

❀The second approach is much more direct. It usually occurs when Killian notices the individual is not backing off When they've laid their hands on you. Killian is more direct. He's threatening as he warns the individual off.

❀Killian's not afraid to get in a physical fight with someone who doesn't know how to respect you. They will learn to respect you one way or another.

❀He likes to remind people you two are very much together every once and a while. Killian finds enjoyment in it.

[wpdarlingpan]

Could we get something with Yandere ouat Peter? Preferably gender-neutral or nb reader.

An idea I had is maybe Hook has a kid, so the character would have grown up in Neverland. I think maybe a platonic Yandere Peter would be v interesting, where he maybe tries to interact with reader as a ‘cool older brother’ sort of figure, despite the fact that reader very much knows exactly who he is and that he’s dangerous. Romantic would be fine too though!

Thank you so much for the request! I apologize it took so long and I have not written in a while so I hope it's okay!

I loved this idea so I had to see how it'll play out. I did the platonic version and although I did use Y/N and made them gender-neutral, I wrote they were 17 for the story's sake. I often have Peter refer to them as a child because in his mind he feels the need to take care of and protect them.

I am considering a part two if people like this idea enough, maybe taking place when the Storybrooke residents arrive.

Warning: Yandere Behavior

Word Count: 2886

-----------------

The Love Of A Brother

-----------------

The day Killian Jones, otherwise known by his more colorful moniker Hook, came to Neverland was a day he would never forget.

He had many men aboard, each desiring to never grow old until they wished. They all had been warned about the dangers that lurk within the water and upon the soil of Neverland but the idea of dying from old age was a more terrifying feat to them.

However, one person had little choice in the matter, as they were still somewhat forced to come to Neverland.

Captain Hook's kid, Y/N.

After the day Mila died it was up to him to become a single parent. Overall he was rather good at it. Always telling stories so that they would be able to sleep at night or sitting by their bedside when they had gotten a cold. But, no matter how much love they held for each other, Killian could not stop going after the man who killed his wife and the mother of his child.

Y/N was 17 the day they had arrived in Neverland and would remain so until the day they left.

This was not a decision Hook made lightly. Bringing the person he cared for more than anyone into the hellish landscape wasn't something he'd wish on his worst enemy (other than Rumpelstiltskin) but the idea of leaving them with no idea when he would return hurt even more.

So he created the rules.

Do not leave the boat without permission.

Do not ever interact with Peter Pan or his shadow.

Avoid the Lost Boys.

"Who is Peter Pan?" They asked their father as the Jolly Roger settled after coming through the portal to Neverland.

"A bloody demon." He responded looking at the dark island as it neared.

Hook began telling the stories that he knew. Even sharing how he had met Peter Pan in the first place. Albeit leaving out what happened to his brother as he blamed himself as well as Pan for the tragedy.

Pan knew he was arriving on the island. Hook riskily contacted him through his shadow to come to a truce before being allowed to arrive on the island.

But there was a little thing Hook had forgotten to mention.

His child.

He had hoped that if none of the inhabitants of the island knew their relation, with Peter assuming they were deckhands or something, they wouldn't be targeted if Peter got bored or wanted to play a game.

But the resemblance was noticeable from the first meeting.

-----------------

As the boat docked onto shore to make an initial supply run, Hook kept Y/N close. Half of the crew, including the two of them, walked carefully through the jungle, avoiding every thorn they came across.

But the real danger was just up ahead. After all, Peter Pan wouldn't be a polite host if he didn't welcome his guests.

The second the pirates entered a clearing they were surrounded by the sound of rustles as the leaves moved around the edge of the clearing and a figure appeared about 20 feet ahead on the other end.

Hook froze, he knew he should have expected him to show himself this early, but a part of him had hoped he wouldn't, not yet at least.

Y/N held onto their bow and arrows tightly as they observed the boy up ahead who looked just a little older than them. Judging by the way he held the spotlight, they had to assume this was Peter Pan.

"Look what we have here, I didn't expect to see you on the island this quickly. I mean after what had happened last time you were here, the idea of returning so willingly was unexpected, Captain." Peter spoke as he neared the group, the Lost Boys forming a circle around them to prevent anyone from running.

Peter inspected the group as they each held some form of weapon. Be it a dagger, sword, or even one with a bow and arrow.

He neared the one with the bow and arrow, the idea of figuring out what else made them so different lingered in his mind. Peter stood closely in front of them, studying their appearance and the subtle yet noticeable looks towards the direction of Hook.

This is when something had clicked.

His brain was no longer assessing the group as a whole or messing with the Captain. His thoughts were reserved for only them. The way they were trying to hide their shaking hands and the way they held onto the bow tighter the closer he got. The shine of their eyes as they looked at him almost like a frightened deer.

He could recognize a scared child anywhere and this time he didn't want it to be his fault. It was like an instinct of protection filled his black heart. Their fearful yet innocent gaze was embedded into his soul. Someone like this simply couldn't live with harsh pirates.

He reached a hand out towards them but Hook stepped in the way. His gaze was harsh yet Peter could easily detect the fear hidden in them. For himself or the child, he wasn't sure.

Peter smirked at Captain Hook as he realized why they had looked so familiar now seeing the similarities in their features and hair color. He had been to distracted by the odd feeling of protection and familiarity to even acknowledge the finding.

"You have a child? My you got busy after leaving last time." He teased as he glanced around the man to see them standing there, their gaze locked onto the ground.

"Stay away from them or so help me you will have wished-" Hook began to say before Peter cut him off.

"You'll do what? Let me remind you, you're here because I allow it. You eat the island's food only because I allow it. You only live because I have use for you yet." He threatened motioning his hand for the Lost Boys to run away.

Y/N took a sigh of relief as the group dispersed but their worry would still remain until Peter was out of their sight. The ideas of the horrors they were told, all of which could happen to them just by being in his presence, filled their anxious mind.

Peter stared at Hook seriously before sending a look and a playful wink toward Y/N, hoping to make them less afraid.

"I'll see you soon." He commented staring directly into their eyes before disappearing.

—————————

Apparently soon meant a few days.

It first began when Y/N was laying on deck, watching the stars when someone appeared next to them and laid down on the spare part of the blanket.

“The stars are beautiful aren’t they?” He spoke as if lying on the ground next to them wasn’t an unusual occurrence.

Y/N was silent, trying to hide the fact they were afraid. The unknowing was terrible, the idea that their father was fast asleep, probably passed out from exhaustion at that, was nerve-wracking as they could not call for help.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me.” Pan said genuinely, staring at the side of their face as he admired their courage to hide their fear.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You have a reputation you know. I’m sure you could get rid of me in a heartbeat.” Y/N was nervous now, it audibly showed through the small stutter that sounded in their sentence.

“That doesn’t mean I want to… Do you know why I’ve brought all these boys to the island?”

“Because they’re lost?”

“Because no one deserves to feel alone.”

Peter Pan believed that because Y/N was an only child who spent their whole life traveling the seas, that they had to be lonely. They are constantly moving and never staying in one place, let alone with people their age.

Then their father, he’s a pirate with a drinking problem who is so obsessed with revenge that even though he is protective and loves his child, Peter couldn’t tell you which the man valued more.

Revenge or love?

If Peter were to take her right now, he could be their older brother. Someone who takes care of their little sibling in the face of everything like heartbreak, anxiety, everything that would make them feel anything other than happiness.

Y/N would be his sibling. He’d be their only brother.

Being an older brother to Y/N sounded perfect to him.

—————————

Their next encounter was when they had been sitting on the edge of the beach as the Jolly Roger was anchored nearby.

Y/N's father had allowed them to hang out along the shore alone.

The captain and crewmates were planning on staying on the edge of the jungle that was Neverland. He had figured they would be okay for a couple hours and that he could hear if they needed anything.

He knew the dangers that posed leaving them there alone but he thought they would be cornered again the second they entered the tree line so there really wasn’t anywhere ‘safe’ at the moment.

That’s how he rationalized it at least.

But when Peter saw them sitting alone on the shore, the mermaids moving closer by the second, he saw Hook as irresponsible and unfit to care for Y/N.

He quickly approached them, the sight of him causing the mermaids to swim away quickly, realizing that was not someone they wanted to lure in.

“Y/N.” Peter said as he approached, sitting in the sand next to them.

“What are you doing?” They spoke questioningly “I thought you would be bothering my father and his crew.”

“Is that what he counted on. Me leaving you alone as they frolicked or whatever they are doing in the jungle? Is that why he left you here defenseless?” He replied getting more confident that Killian wasn’t fit to take care of Y/N.

“I don’t like what you’re accusing him of.” Y/N replied, glaring at Pan in front of them but if anything it was adorable.

He raised his hands jokingly as if he actually felt threatened by them.

“I’m just saying, he knows the dangers of this island. If it’s not me, it’s the lost boys, then the Dreamshade, and as you almost realized, the mermaids.” Peter counted off making Y/N realize what the subtle splashing noise they heard was. “He shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“I’m 17. I can take care of myself for a few hours.” They argued, much like if they were telling their older sibling they didn’t need to be babysat.

“Sure you can. But you don’t need to when I’m here.”

———————-

From then on he would appear randomly whenever he knew Y/N was alone.

When they weren’t, he was silently protecting them from the shadows.

If we’re sketching in their room? He’d sit next to them silently, allowing them to focus. Meanwhile he was busy admiring their skills even if it was a simple picture of the sky.

They volunteered to go look for some more supplies on the island?

They mysteriously got separated from the group for a few hours.

He took them saying ‘I can take care of myself for a few hours’ rather literally. In those few hours, they got an entire tour of the main points of the island.

Even the camp.

Peter had them sit on his designated chair, introducing Y/N as their little sibling. Each of the boys came up to them and introducing themselves enthusiastically as the proposed all the fun games they could play if they were to stay.

Even when Y/N emphasized greatly that they couldn’t.

Each and every time.

When their birthday came around Peter gifted them a necklace, his initials were on the inside, to protect them from anyone who finds their way to the island.

Although he made sure to use his magic to conceal the necklace from the eyes of Hook.

Not that he cared about what the man thought, after all nothing would keep him from his little sibling.

Nothing.

-----------

The day Peter had been preparing for came sooner than expected.

Hook had discovered a way to kill the dark one and his need for the island was gone. Meaning it was time to return back to the enchanted forest.

The crew had begun preparing to return back to the forest. Packing up their supplies and strapping down anything they had on deck to prepare for traveling through the portal.

Y/N was packing up anything loose in their room. They had mostly finished other than having to pack the rest of their art supplies.

“So you were just going to leave and not tell your older brother? I'm offended” Peter spoke appearing in their room and sitting on their bed.

In their deal, he had allowed Hook to leave once he had found a way to accomplish his goal.

That was before he had met Y/N.

“I was never going to say in Neverland. I was always going to leave. I don’t know what you were expecting.” Y/N spoke harshly trying to push him away.

They had to admit, after all this time spent with Peter, that it was hard to view him as some irredeemable demon. He comforted them when they had nightmares of their mother’s death, protected them from the mermaids, did their favorite activities with them (even if he was not really invited), and seemed to love them.

Peter knew they were just trying to protect themself from the pain of leaving so they lashed out. He could tell they were saddened at the thought of leaving him. This made him feel warm inside.

Y/N assumed they’d be fine once leaving Neverland, they would have to forget about Peter Pan and their life would go back to normal, well as normal as it gets.

Suddenly they heard approaching footsteps.

“Y/N? Are you ready to go? We are about to enter the portal now.” Killian called through the closed door, his eagerness to leave the island covering the fact that there was a muffled sound as he spoke. Hook was ecstatic, his time for revenge had come. His head was in the clouds as he ran over his plan over and over again. Causing him to not even think to just poke his head in to check on his child, just of the idea that the portal was closing any minute

The muffled noise was Peter whispering that he would not let Hook leave if they said anything other than that they were ready.

Y/N knew if they weren’t allowed to leave, their father would be devastated.

“Yes father, I’m ready!” They called back and the two listened as the man’s footsteps grew farther and farther away.

“You can’t leave Y/N. You’re my little sibling, I have to take care of you.” He spoke manipulatively the second Hook was out of distance.

“I have to. If it’s up to me, I’ll never leave my father. He raised me, he loves me! He will take care of me better than you ever can.” Y/N retorted, frustrated at the situation. Why wouldn't Peter just go away? They knew they cared for him, even just a little bit. But their father was very important to them. Even if he had been a little distracted while searching for revenge, they didn't feel his love any less.

A loving father or a over protective, self-proclaimed brother.

They knew which had meant more. They had made their choice, one they couldn't vocalize as Peter softly blew poppy dust into their face, causing them to pass out instantly.

“Then it isn’t up to you.” as he spoke “This is for your own good. I love you Y/N and I know you love me. You are better off at my side.”

He picked them up bridal style as he and Y/N disappeared off the boat and reappeared in the camp. All of their stuff appears on the ground off to the side of them.

"Welcome to your new home, Y/N"

-------------

Hook had gone to Y/N’s cabin to check on them, the portal closing behind him as they could see the Enchanted Forest off in the distance.

He was eager to see his child, wanting to celebrate the idea of finally being able to avenge his wife and their mother. Hook knocked and didn’t hear an answer assuming they had been disoriented or hurt by the portal, he opened the door quickly.

But, he was met with an empty room and no Y/N.

He looked around for any signs frantically before he spotted a letter on the bed.

Hook,

You were always too focused on the idea of revenge that you neglected what was in front of you. You never deserved Y/N and you never will. Each time you left them alone, I was there. I comforted them, I protected them, and I loved them. Each thing is something you couldn't do while you searched for something you did not even know existed. Y/N will be better off without you.

I always wondered if you'd choose revenge over love.

I guess I have my answer.

Their brother,

Peter Pan

[princess-and-the-swan]

CS Fic Recs: Sex Pollen

Happy (smutty!) Sunday and happy mother's day! To commemorate such a wonderful day, I thought I'd put together a list of some great CS Sex Pollen fics I've found.

Bouquet for Two ...with a View by @belovedcreation

all i want is you by @caprelloidea

A Cursed Land by totheendoftheworldortime79

abandon by @wistfulcynic

Because by @phiralovesloki

Don't Touch by majorshipper

Amatory by On the Darker Side

If there's anything I missed, please let me know! I tried to only get the super smutty ones in this list, but I'm sure there's a handful more out there if you look hard enough! Enjoy!

[pirateswhore]

Carve your name into my bedpost 🔞

one-shot drabbles written for cocktober 2023. most will be under 1k words. following the prompt list from @cs-c-ocktoberfest2023

Ch I - Caught in the Act : Read on AO3

[lenawritesfandom]

…Introduction…

Hello my name is Lena!

I am a 23 year old, bisexual, woman with she/her pronouns who enjoys to write and draw. I haven’t exactly wrote fanfiction since 2018 but I’m excited to start trying again.

I have been through a lot of fandoms throughout the years and I couldn’t just focus one blog on one topic. So I figured to be kind on myself and just write it all in one place.

I will most likely be writing a lot of 18+ (maybe not, we’ll see) but that doesn’t mean everything will be. I will take requests for 18+ and non 18+ content. Don’t worry, I’ll tag what’s what and put warnings for any possible triggering content.

…Fandoms I write for…

As of write now I will be writing for these fandoms. I am probably forgetting some, and will be adding more in the future.

Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss

The Hunger Games/Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Supernatural

Marvel/DC

Cyberpunk 2077

The Walking Dead

Harry Potter/Hogwarts Legacy

Once Upon A Time

Inuyasha

Death Note

Black Butler

More to come

…Request Rules…

NSFW and SFW requests are allowed

I will write Headcanons, Oneshots, Imagines, or even a series if I really enjoy it and think I can flesh it out into one.

This one is obvious no p*dophilia or b*astiality requests

I will write angst, I have no problem with it especially the gut wrenching scenes that hurt so bad it feel good 😭

I have no problem writing characters having babies/children. I think an idea of a family is adorable.

Heads up I might not know how to write every character but I would gladly take on the challenge of writing them.

Another thing I mostly write for the female pov but I am also willing to challenge myself with male and non binary povs!

…Outro…

Well that’s all I really have to say. I hope I made a good impression on you all. I really aim that you will enjoy my blog and the requests I may write for you all. Have a good one! :)

[happy-emmdings]

Survivor’s Heart

on AO3 Category: one shot, missing scene, canon compliant

Summary: Emma and Killian have a long conversation after his heart is back where it belongs. Honest explanations lead to some long needed revelations. More walls are brought down to bring them closer than ever before. Set at the end of episode 4x11.

Word count: 3 462

Author’s note: This has been sitting in my drafts for quite some time… Anyway, Regina can do shots on her own, Emma just almost witnessed the love her life get murdered. No one will convince me that she didn’t stay with him longer after that.

Holding a beating heart in her hands is such a strange sensation. Holding his heart. She cradles it, gently with both hands, marveling at the bright red glow, even if stained with some inky splotches swimming inside. It beats gently and steadily. It's warm and smooth and she's afraid she'll drop it. She can't help but ponder the fragility of it as well as the incredible resilience with which it has survived despite everything. She can't get the image of what happened earlier out of her head. Killian powerlessly sinking to his knees, screaming in pain as Gold squeezes his cruel hand. The feeling of being frozen in place and rendered utterly powerless to stop it was the worst part. A few more seconds and had Belle not turned up... She doesn't even want to go there.

She looks up at him, fully aware of how vulnerable and trusting he is being with her in that moment. His smile is genuine, his eyes so soft as he nods a little, letting her know he feels safe with his heart in her hands.

"You know I've never really done this before, right?" she bites her lip nervously.

"Held my heart? You've done it longer than you know," he teases.

"You know what I mean," she rolls her eyes despite the seriousness of the moment.

"Just be gen-"

Too late. Emma plunges the heart into his chest, deciding to do it quickly – like ripping of a band aid. It knocks the wind right out of him. Ooh, it looks like it hurt.

She goes to apologize but he cuts her off midsentence with a passionate kiss. And there's no doubt in her mind, it's all of him again. Her back hits the wall and she continues to kiss him as he leans in closer. They both savor the moment. Precious and intimate. The relief is almost intoxicating.

He pulls away ever so slightly, their foreheads and noses still touching. She reluctantly lets him, biting her lip and smiling.

"I told you, Swan," he whispers into the gap between their lips, holding her gaze with soft, reassuring eyes. "I'm a survivor."

—

They make their way upstairs to have some privacy. They are both relieved to be safe and alive but there's still a lot to talk about and they are aware of that too. Killian invites her into the room where he has been staying ever since he brought her back to Storybrooke, since he doesn't have his ship.

It's pretty bare, except for the old-fashioned furniture and shoddy decor, the room has little personality. He didn't exactly bring luggage with him from the Enchanted Forest. It reminds her of the time when she first arrived here, before she even moved to Mary Margaret's and stayed in a room just like this.

He takes his leather jacket off and hangs it on a chair, then pulls out a second chair and offers her to sit. He sits opposite her on the bed. Suddenly, anxious tension settles on his shoulders. He looks down at his hand fidgeting with his hook and lets out a deep breath.

"I- " he says quietly but fumbles.

She reaches out to hold his hand encouragingly, letting him know he can tell her anything. She supposes this is how she learns why he was in that whole mess in the first place. On the walk to Granny’s, he only briefly explained that Gold was trying to free himself from the dagger and crushing his heart was part of it, but he hasn't said much else. She suspects his heart has been out of his chest for longer than just tonight. She recalls the moment earlier that day when he brought the news of the portal, acting so bizarrely unlike himself. The absent look in his eyes, the fleeting, dispassionate kiss, the way his hand held onto her as if it had a mind of its own, fighting against an invisible force, gripping her so tightly as it shook... like a drowning man grasping his only lifeline.

And she starts thinking back, searching her memory for earlier signs like this. She feels a sharp pang of guilt. She let him down. She should have... she should have been able to save him. She was so preoccupied with everything while Gold was playing this sick game of his and she didn't notice. And she almost lost him. God, she almost lost him.

"I suppose I owe you some explanations," he says.

"Yeah," she says softly, "you wanna tell me how this whole mess started? How long did he... you know, have your heart?"

He cringes, probably as he recalls the events, he is about to relay to her.

"Remember the other day... when you were about to give up your powers? At the seaside mansion?"

"Oh my god," she frowns. She feels another bite of guilt. Gold had been doing this to him for days and she hasn't noticed until today. A knot forms in her stomach at the idea of Rumplestiltskin ripping out Killian's heart, while she was... she stops in her tracks, as it dawns on her.

"Wait. But that was Gold's idea. Was that... some kind of trap?"

Killian scoffs bitterly, looking down at their joint hands.

"Luckily, you were clever enough to not walk into it," he says with a hint of a smile. "Unlike me, that's for sure. I was a bloody fool, Swan. I made so many mistakes."

He looks up at her and the look in his eyes is raw and scared and tinged with anger. Not at her, but at himself.

"Killian?" she prompts him to continue but waits patiently.

"I suppose I should start from the beginning," he says, caressing his hook like he's remembering something.

"The beginning?" she gives him a confused look.

"Our date. My... hand. That's how I got myself entangled in all kinds of shady dealings with the crocodile. That's how I came to know his plans. How I walked into his trap."

"I remember. You had your hook back the next day, you said the Dark One's magic wasn't what you expected."

"Aye," he smiles bitterly and takes a deep breath. Emma senses a story coming and braces herself.

He spills his guts. He tells her about blackmailing Gold into giving him his hand back so that he could hold her with both hands. He tells her how Gold told him the hand would bring out the worst in him, make him the violent, ruthless pirate he once was. He didn't listen. She aches for him when she realizes how he still misses being able to use two hands, despite being used and well-adjusted to his hook for centuries. Why was it the date that prompted him to make such a request to the Dark One? Did he feel like holding her with one hand wasn't enough? Was it not enough for him or did he think it wasn't enough for her? She recalls all the throwaway remarks people – unfortunately including herself at a few occasions – have made about him only having one hand.

She struggles to find the right words, instead she just takes both his hook and hand in her hands. She wants him to know she accepts him as he is, that she never thought less of him for the lack of a hand, that she's actually fond of the hook, that he's enough.

He recounts the run-in with the thief in the restaurant and his fear of losing control. She takes it all in. This is where the story gets darker.

He explains how he didn't want to revert back to the man he used to be, how he wanted to be better, how he wanted to be someone he could one day be proud of, how he wanted to be someone she could be proud of too. The thought of that being ruined by a foolish deal with the Dark One was something he couldn't bear. He admits he tried blackmailing his way out of it but Gold outsmarted him and he ended up making a blind deal.

Emma leans back a little when he tells her he helped Gold capture some old man into a magical hat that sucked power out of people and pulled them in too. Gold finally rid him of his hand after that, but kept the security tape for blackmail.

"I should have just told you, I'm sorry," he says.

Emma doesn't react right away. She's taking it all in. Mixed emotions swirl in her head at those revelations. The way he went about it was wrong, she knows. She's a little mad. But there's one more thing she realizes. Killian was so desperate to be a better man, that he begged his enemy to take his hand away, again. He had wanted it back so badly, but the moment he felt like his progress was threatened, he was willing to do anything to set things right. Ironically, resulting to some morally questionable behavior. It was all so crazy and ironic. But the fact that this man was willing to give up his hand to make sure he would be a better person makes Emma stare at him in astonishment. He made so many mistakes, of course, but his heart was in the right place. At his core he is a good person and she finds it hard to believe anything could undo that. The Dark One is full of nasty lies and tricks.

"You're right. You should have told me. I would have forgiven you, you know. But I don't understand how this led to Gold taking your heart."

"I think he would have stolen it either way, since he needed it for his wretched schemes, but... when you called to tell your mother about getting rid of your powers... I remembered the magic hat and what it did to the poor old man. I realized the crocodile was planning to do the same to you. I called you and said all of this in that, you know, uh...voicemail. But the bloody crocodile erased it. I found out where he sent you but when I got there, he was ready for me."

Emma gulps. This is when it happens.

"He... was going to make me watch as you used the hat on yourself. But you didn't. Because you're bloody brilliant and so is your magic, Swan."

She blushes despite everything.

"So then he...?" she trails off.

"Aye."

He puts his hand over his heart as if to check it's still there, wincing slightly as he remembers the pain and how it felt to have his body invaded by the man he hated most.

"But why did he let you go? I mean... why did he wait until tonight to..."

He gets what she's asking.

"Well, he needed to fill the bloody hat with magic first and he kept going on about the stars in the sky aligning with the constellations on the hat and whatnot. My heart was only one ingredient... because I'm the only living person who knew him before he was tied to that dagger. First, he needed me to do his dirty work. Like capturing the fairies in the hat. Aye, that was me. Or him. When he... had my heart... he was fully in control of me."

A shiver goes through his entire body. Emma stands up from the chair and comes to sit next to his side. Her hand rests on his hook.

"I couldn't fight it. I couldn't do anything he forbid me to do. I had to listen to every command. I wasn't in control of myself. He made me a bloody slave." His voice is thick with emotion, especially the last word lingers in the air.

"Killian, I..." she cups his cheek in her hand and gently turns him to face her. "I'm so sorry."

"You're sorry?" he asks incredulously. "For what?"

"I don't know, I should have done something. I should have... noticed."

"You did, though, didn't you?"

"But it was almost too late," she shakes her head. "When you... when you talked to me earlier today and it wasn't you, when you grabbed onto my hand and tried to warn me... I knew something was wrong. I knew, I... Every part of me was screaming to do something, to follow you, to find out what the hell is happening. But I didn't. I didn't, because I thought I could check on you later. I thought I could resolve the case at hand and then I could check on you..." it takes every one of her metaphorical walls to not break down as she says that and tries not to think about what almost happened. Her voice is raw and husky but she holds it together.

"I didn't die," he reminds her. "And I'm not going to any time soon."

She smiles and strokes his cheek.

"Can you forgive me?" he asks, looking at her with uncertain eyes.

She leans in and kisses him softly on the lips. She tells him that yes, she forgives him for what he did before Gold had his heart and that whatever he did after is not on him. What she doesn't tell him is that she can feel herself falling deeper in love, the pull of his gravity growing stronger than ever. She finds herself loving him even as he reveals his flaws. Not that she ever thought he was flawless. She knew what she was getting herself into from the start – which is more than she can say for any of her other past relationships, she thinks bitterly.

She has held his heart in her hands today. She saw how bright and red it was, she also saw the dark spots inside it. Still, she found it strangely beautiful just the way it was.

She thinks she might truly love him. Because his darkness doesn't scare her away. His goodness pulls her in. Anyone could clearly tell which color was dominant in his heart. She embraces him despite his mistakes, including his mistakes.

But she can't say it out loud, because it scares her just how intense and real that feeling is, how strongly her heart burns as he lets her read him like a book, uncovering pages he would rather rip out. She doesn't think she's ever felt this way about anyone, not even Neal. After all, Neal never let her in like this. It's confusing and scary and she almost wants to run away. So instead, she kisses him, hoping to leave no room for thought.

"I'm glad you're okay," she whispers when they come apart to take a breath.

"I'm glad you are. And that I'm free again," he admits and there is something in his voice that she can't quite decipher. Something is still bothering him. She pulls away to get a better look at him.

"What is it?" she asks.

He leans against the bed frame and takes a deep breath. She sits opposite him, watching him attentively.

"I was a slave," he says so quietly she's not sure she hears correctly.

She's a little confused. He's said that already but this time it sounds a little different.

"To Gold? You don't have to worry about him anymore," she comforts him.

"No, I mean..." he hesitates.

She leans in, frowning in concern.

"I mean when I was a child... It was so long ago, I know it shouldn't bother me anymore but..."

"Did you say when you were a child?" she interrupts him.

He doesn't look at her, only nods his head slightly.

"It’s been so long, I know. But while Neverland keeps you young even for centuries, it's not exactly a place where you can forget your early years. And now... the last few days have stirred up some unpleasant memories."

"I thought," she fumbles, "I thought you were in the royal navy. David said... in Neverland..."

"I was," he nods. "But not always. Liam was the one who made that possible for us."

He laughs bitterly, reaching almost reflexively to where he keeps his flask, but then his hand jerks back.

"If it had depended on me, we never would have made it. I owe him so much. He never gave up on me," he smiles, his eyes glistening.

There's fondness in that sentiment, there's pain too. After all these years, he still loves his brother and misses him just like he has missed his first love for so long. He's not one to let go easily. Emma understands that all too well.

"I never realized there was slavery in the Enchanted Forest," she whispers. "That's awful."

"Maybe not anymore in your parents' era. But two hundred years ago, yeah."

"Were you... born into it?" she asks, afraid she might be getting too bold, too personal, that he will shut her out.

He shakes his head. "No. No, I have my father to thank for that actually."

The scorn on his face when he speaks about his father could rival his disdain for Rumplestiltskin.

"He was a cowardly bastard. When Liam and I were little, he secured passage on a ship for the three of us, fabricating this fantastical tale about going to travel the world. Turned out he was lying through his teeth. One night I woke up and he was gone. He sold us for a boat to save his arse from soldiers waiting for him in port. I never even learned what crime he was running from. Didn't matter though, because the cost of his freedom was Liam's and mine to pay."

Emma stares at him, horrified, but trying not to look like she's pitying him. Somehow, she isn't surprised that he is no stranger to abandonment. Yet another thing they have in common, another thing that makes them understand each other so well.

They all share the same look in their eyes. The look you get when you've been left alone.

I just wanted to let you know that I, too, know what it feels like... to lose hope.

Perhaps the wounds that are made when we are young tend to linger.

Believe it or not, I was once a child.

The little moments start to come together like pieces of a puzzle and she realizes it was in front of her this entire time. She feels bad for dismissing him before. She didn't expect this.

"I never want to be someone's servant again," he confesses under his breath.

"That's horrible," she says.

"I'm sorry for... spilling all this on you," he apologizes nervously, afraid he might have revealed too much.

"No," she stops him. "It's okay. I mean, thank you for telling me. I know it's not easy to talk about things like that."

"Yeah," he smirks knowingly.

She scoots over to sit next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You can talk about it if you want," she assures him softly. "Or not. I'm not going anywhere."

She can almost feel a wall crumbling down between them, bringing them closer. She's not sure if the wall is hers or his. Probably both. But it's down now. They're stepping into a new territory, taking a leap of faith. There is a new kind of understanding that somehow makes it easier to breathe.

They talk for hours that night, well past midnight. They just sit together and talk. About serious things at first. Killian describes staring at the ocean the first few weeks after his father left, trying to convince himself it was a lie, looking for a sign of him on the ocean's surface or a glimpse of his face in the crowded harbors, hoping that he would come back for them, until one day he started hoping his father was dead. Emma recounts her first few foster homes, the way she always let herself hope that she could be loved there... until the concept of it started to seem unbelievable.

After a while, they leave the traumas behind as the conversation organically shifts to more pleasant topics. They even end up laughing at the end until there is no tension left in their bodies. Emma kicks her shoes off and leans her head against his shoulder, her hand rests on his chest over his beating heart. She doesn't know when she falls asleep but she wakes up in his embrace to a quiet, sunlit room, still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. As is he.

It’s a new bright day and they are both free. There is no Dark One in town and the past is put to rest, at least for now. She rests her head on his chest and listens to his steady heartbeat.

[hannahhook7744]

Hitched!;

Written with: @ouatnextgen .

Rating: General Audiences.

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply.

Category: M/M.

Fandoms: Once Upon a Time (TV), Once Upon a Time in Wonderland (TV).

Relationships:

Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Mad Hatter | Jefferson

Minor or Background Relationship(s)

Characters:

Captain Hook | Killian Jones

Mad Hatter | Jefferson

Storybrooke Residents (Once Upon a Time)

Additional Tags:

Rare Pairings

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies

Marriage Proposal

Captain Hook | Killian Jones In Love

Hurt Captain Hook | Killian Jones

Captain Hook | Killian Jones needs a hug

Mild Hurt/Comfort

Chaotic Captain Hook | Killian Jones

Chaotic Mad Hatter | Jefferson

Misunderstandings

Eventual Happy Ending

Crack Treated Seriously

Language: English.

Series: MadHook.

Summary: Killian and Jefferson get hitched.

Trigger Warnings: swearing, smoking, mentioned drinking, unhealthy coping mechanisms, impulsive decisions, etc.

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

Last Line Tag Game: Thank you for the tag, @piraterefrigerator (and for the link to your fantastic fic!) LL: A gift he’d spend a lifetime trying to repay if only she’d allow him the chance to do so. - Just Breathe

Tagging for funsies: @kmomof4 @snowbellewells @pirateherokillian @kazoosandfannypacks @nachocheese-itsmycheese @jrob64

[shady-swan-jones]

Captain Swan Fic Recs are back, baby! - April Edition

Hello, cs friends! It's been like, what, seven years since I last did this? Who's counting. Enjoy the fruits of y'all's labour and some amazing stories. Keep writing, we need you

-Sophie

when Emma falls in love [from the vault] by @spartanguard

Inspired by "When Emma Falls In Love" by Taylor Swift, part of series based on songs from the vault

everyone's wondering why Emma doesn't screw the hot bartender already, it's not like he hasn't given signs. but with emma's romantic past it's not like she's throwing chances to anyone, scruffily attractive as they may be. yet, it's not her past that's worrisome. will they break the curse?

rated T | 6.2k words | AO3

Untie Me | captain swan fic | office romance | mature | 3/5 | 5.9k | in progress, by me

“Didn’t you pay attention to trigonometry, Jones?” she balances her weight on the stick, languidly, in a way that ticks something into his already drowsy brain.  “Is this the part where you offer to teach me, Swan?” he says, advancing to her. 

Read on Ao3 or ff.net

I, lost, was passing by - by @dykelilypage

Five years ago, Emma's father had given her a necklace for her birthday. It was a beautiful ruby encased in a golden chain, that sat heavy on her chest. It was safe to say then, that Emma was more than a little bit pissed off to discover that it had been stolen from right around her neck. The one stroke of luck to the whole ordeal was that she knew exactly who had taken it. Killian Jones. rated E | 6267 words

love scare by @exhaustedpirate

it's a little canon-compliant one-shot that i place during the six weeks of peace, more specifically, like a day or so before 4B rated G | 922 words | ao3

Expecting a Secret [3/3] by @walviemort

Summary: After the events of 3x19, Killian is at his lowest after being rejected by Emma. When Snow’s labor turns out to be a false alarm, Zelena offers Killian a deal: she’ll leave the Charmings alone…if he gives her the baby she needs for her spell instead. There’s just one hitch: he has to keep it a secret. At least it will only take 10 days, right?

The Heart of a Villan (5/5) by @beckettj

There are only two people that can make me care about football: Ted Lasso and this. Words: 6181 ~ AO3

Perilous Harbor by @veryverynotgoodwrites

Emma Swan is heir apparent to her parents' kingdom in the Enchanted Forest, and a powerful wielder of light magic. This makes her the most wanted woman in the realm, not only for marriage, but for leverage against the king and queen. While her parents have been able to keep her safe so far, an attack is launched on Princess Emma that leaves her no choice but to seek the protection of her worst enemy - Killian Jones, infamous captain of the Jolly Roger and his pirate crew. ao3 in progress 19/23

a work of art by @sotangledupinit

“I always have to clean up your messes,” she mutters to herself angrily, eyes glaring down at the red liquid on the floor.

Between Waking Life and Our Dreams (12/?) by @nachocheese-itsmycheese

Season 3b canon divergence: Storybrooke is still missing when Emma, Killian, and Henry reach the town line. AO3 T

The Fluffy Problem by @ineffablecolors

"Oh, I'm going to have fun paying you back, Captain."

ff.net

The Cure for Loneliness (4/?) by @laianely

Killian went to the world without magic to finally kill Crocodile, but instead he met Emma in Gold's shop. And his whole life turned upside down overnight.

E 16k words in progress AO3

Pan Says... (8/?) by @hollyethecurious

After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.

To Cleave Destiny by @iamstartraveller776

She was going to pass the night the same way she did every year in adulthood: by getting drunk enough to forget that the world was incredibly unfair. Ao3, in progress, T, 4k

Note:

Don't forget to comment and show some love. To me too. Come on. Anyone else who wants to be tagged can request it.

If you have more fic recs or more links, drop them in the comments and I'll include them. You creative mermaids, love ya.

@kmomof4 @caught-in-the-filter @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @justanother-unluckysoul @karlyfr13s  @snowbellewells @xarandomdreamx @klynn-stormz @omninerdgirl  @facesiousbutton82 @finmnsoh56​ @followbatb @killianxswan @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd​

[snowbellewells]

CSSNS24 ONe Shot: "On Wings of Storm"

This canon divergent AU was intended to be a shifter one shot, but I don't know that the character is a shifter in the strictest sense, as there is a curse and magic involved. It is set sometime post Milah's death in Season Two, and then embarks on a different path from there...

I apologize ahead of time for any errors that I might need to come back and fix; I was writing this right up to midnight and didn't have enough time to edit fully. My beta for this year's @cssns @myfearless-love did absolutely brilliant work, catching so many typos and run-ons and confusing phrases. She was invaluable and deserves so much love for all her help! Anything left over is 100% my fault for hurrying to finish.

**I am thrilled to be reposting now with the gorgeous cover artwork created for me by @motherkatereloyshipper! She captured so well the drama and intensity of the ship's danger during the storm and the petrel coming to her aid. I just love it!! Thank you, thank you, thank you SO MUCH @motherkatereloyshipper!**

Please enjoy, and I'd love to hear what you think!!

Summary: Killian Jones has lost everything and everyone he ever held dear. All that is left for him is vengeance and pain. None could have expected the strange twist of Fate that would change everything, or the surprising companion that will come to touch his heart in ways he would have no longer thought possible.

“On Wings of Storm” 

By: @snowbellewells

“Attention, you bilge rats!” His angry voice rang out unmistakably over the planks of the majestic ship - carrying clearly despite the buffeting wind and rolling sea beneath. The power in the sharply accented words cracked like a whip, causing every member of his crew to flinch nervously and stand at attention to do their captain’s bidding and avoid his ire. Those who made their home and livelihood upon the Jolly Roger - even the few remaining grizzled veterans who’d once served on her decks when she was the Jewel of the Realm - knew her captain’s temper was perpetually on a knife’s edge. The harshness and cruelty of the lives they all lived, and the loss and betrayal Captain Jones had weathered, would bow and break many. It was understood not to cross those who had survived and been hardened by it.

Yet, even with that knowledge, the cause of his current tirade was unclear. When the ship had docked at the remote port, some had stayed aboard to handle various duties and keep watch while others went ashore to roam and shop, or to visit inns or brothels, but all had been attending to their assigned duties and nothing was amiss. However, the thunderous look upon their Captain’s dark brow spoke volumes. Something was amiss, and he would see it put to rights. Pity the fool who was found at fault. The cutlass at his hip bounced gently against his leg, and the still awe-inspiring metal appendage which had replaced his left hand mere months ago glinted menacingly in the low moonlight as he paced back and forth, eyeing each man with an intensity that would make anyone tremble.

It was old Mullins who finally dared to put the question to the Captain gingerly when no further explanation or action seemed forthcoming. “What is it that’s angered ye, Cap’n?” he queried respectfully, head bowed in deference as his speech drew Killian Jones’ attention. “We’ve been here aboard the Jolly and at our post since ye left. Did something happen on shore?”

Killian’s attention zeroed intently on the graying Mullins, who quickly gave another bob of his chin in respect or acknowledgement. Not about to contradict their captain, but also not knowing what had upset him, none of them could move to make it right. Those piercing blue eyes, like ice chips in Mullins’ shuddering imagination, beneath the dark, forbidding brows he used to great effect, seemed to be searching his subordinate’s face and sifting his words for any hint of dissension or deception. Finding nothing of the kind, the volatile man’s gaze swept over the rest of the crew assembled around him nervously for some time before offering the explanation in a menacing growl.

“It has come to my attention - and make no mistake, even a scoundrel such as meself has loyal allies - that some of you are dissatisfied with your position aboard this vessel. Let me be crystal clear; a place aboard the Jolly Roger is an honor and a prize - she is a marvel unmatched in speed and quality throughout the realm. However, your presence here is entirely voluntary. I have never, and will never, tolerate the enslavement of any crew member on the Jolly. Such dishonor shall not taint her decks. So, if any of you wish to depart, then by all means, leave now. But be warned; spreading false tales of captivity or coercion, thereby sullying our flag and reputation, will not be tolerated. Such lies will be rooted out and those responsible will face severe consequences.”

He paused, clearly waiting for any who might be bold enough to disembark under his watchful eye and be noted for their decision. None upon the deck moved or spoke, and old Mullins noted sadly that the only sound or hint of motion was the heavy breathing that escaped the Captain’s mouth and the heaving of his chest, evidenced by what had clearly been an angry charge from the town’s center and his impassioned outburst.

As Jones finally seemed to regain control, sending him back to work with a brisk order, Mullins couldn’t help thinking resignedly about how much the Captain had changed, in the past few months especially, but also in the years since his brother’s death. The man Captain Jones had once been - that promising but naive young lieutenant - seemed like a distant memory. Few of the current crew members had served under Jones’ proud and honorable older brother, Liam, who had been tragically struck down in his prime by treachery. Liam’s untimely death had altered the course of all their lives in ways none could have anticipated. Mullins found it painful to remember the wide-eyed, gangly lieutenant Killian had once been. That young man had spoken passionately of glory for the crown and the name of Jones, ready to follow his Captain anywhere. He had believed in righteousness and the power of individuals to shape their own destinies. That idealistic youth had hardened into a bitter and implacable man. The once-noble Killian Jones now sought only vengeance, becoming known and feared across the seas as the dreaded villain, Captain Hook. Mullins sighed and returned to his task; there was naught to be done for it.

Meanwhile, Killian Jones stood at the helm, staring out into the dark night. He sought fruitlessly for the rhythmic comfort of the waves against the hull of his beloved vessel, the solid planks beneath his feet, and the cool night air brushing over his face to ease his inner turmoil. These familiar elements had soothed him many times before, yet his agitation remained as he waited, forcing himself to take steady, regular breaths.

As he stood there, alone amongst his crew, Killian’s gaze drifted towards the gray, evening-darkening horizon. A shape materialized from the gathering twilight, drawing nearer - an unmistakable bird on the wing, yet not the familiar silhouette of gull or pelican often seen at sea. Morbidly curious, Killian watched as the creature approached, strangely silent compared to the trilling calls of most avian species he knew. Its relatively small body rose and fell on the air currents, rather than gliding with ease, weaving unsteadily in its course.

Despite having recently displayed harsh temper and callousness, Killian found himself holding his breath with each flap of wings that sent the bird painstakingly higher in the sky again, inexplicably concerned it might plummet into the rolling waves below.

As if drawn by his thoughts, the bird’s flight began to descend lower and lower. The men diligently working around him on the deck - and avoiding eye contact to steer clear of his ire a second time - seemed completely unaware of the creature’s plight. Killian finally released a tight breath as the dark-feathered bundle nearly landed at his feet. Though it seemed more a collapse than a graceful landing, it had found a resting place. He did not wish to closely examine why it mattered to him whether it had succeeded or not.

Glancing around surreptitiously, Killian stooped to gather the bird into his hand, his hooked arm wrapping around to steady and secure it against his chest. He hoped the dark attire he wore would partially conceal the fragile creature. Rescuing helpless animals contradicted the brash and dangerous pirate persona he had donned irrevocably, which had grown even more dark and forbidding of late. Yet, he simply could not leave the small, fragile bird on the planks, its strength almost spent and plaintively vulnerable.

Seeing that all was as it should be, he slipped below deck without a word, carrying the strange passenger in his arms into his cabin. Closing the door firmly behind him, Killian hurried to place the weakened creature on the table and lit a nearby lantern hanging from the ceiling to inspect its small form for injuries. It appeared fine, simply near the end of its endurance after a clearly long journey.

Just as when the bird was approaching the ship, he could not really understand why it mattered so much to him that the creature was alright. It did though, and so he obeyed his instincts and tried to tend to it as best he knew how. His new compatriot didn’t seem at all troubled by his admittedly anxious dithering and attempts at aid. The bird neither flapped nor made any attempt to flee. After a few full-body shakes to settle its plumage, the bird remained largely still, only moving with its breaths and blinking its dark brown eyes calmly at him, seemingly taking in its new surroundings. The creature exhibited an almost human awareness that it was safe, facing no threat from him.

As Killian watched, enthralled, the bird eventually seemed to settle enough that it tucked its head beneath its wing and appeared to fall asleep. Satisfied that his charge would be fine for a few hours, and needing to rest himself while his crew and ship were in order, Killian extinguished the lantern after preparing for bed. The churning anger and restlessness which had plagued him since boarding his ship was strangely lulled, and for the moment, he was too grateful to question it. Stretching out upon the Captain’s berth, he gave himself over to sleep, for once wrapped up enough in its comfort to be dreamless.

~~ * ~~ * ~~

Killian rose with the sun the next morning, habit waking him early enough to see the gray pre-dawn melt into the peach and pinkish glow of a clear new day. He stretched his lanky frame, washed and dressed before moving to the table to check on his unexpected guest. As he neared the makeshift nest he had created, he was surprised to see his small stowaway still appeared to be asleep. Startled by how calm the bird continued to be in such confined surroundings, Killian merely smiled tightly, his hand unconsciously rubbing his chest. He tried not to dwell on why the peaceful sight of a bird resting on the table in one of his old rags lifted his spirits so, as if the whole cabin felt less lonely in its presence.

He had a litany of his usual tasks to attend to, and he knew the rest of his crew would soon be active - if they were not already. Killian exited the cabin swiftly, hoping nothing would disturb the creature until it was restored enough to wake on its own, once the heavy sound of his boots against the wooden planks faded away.

However, he couldn’t avoid one quick stop before heading topside. Killian was pleased to see Turley, the ship’s cook, alone in the kitchen. He ducked beneath the low door frame and cleared his throat to get the grizzled man’s attention amidst the numerous pots and pans bubbling and sizzling on the stovetop.

“Mornin’ Cap’n,” Turley offered, with a gap-toothed smile. “What can I get ye?”

Killian lowered his voice, stepping closer to the aging cook as he explained that the rations he sought were not for himself, but for the seabird he had rescued the evening before. As he pondered why the bird’s fate concerned him, Killian found himself unsure why he felt compelled to hide his anxiety for the small animal. Anyone daring to question or mock him would regret it – if not immediately, soon enough. Was he questioning himself then?

He discarded the thought almost as soon as it entered his mind. Turley seemed pleased with his captain’s request, assuring him they still had some canned herring in their stores which he could fetch after the noon meal. Killian nodded approvingly and thanked Turley before turning to leave. Just as he did, Turley added, “Sounds like you found a storm petrel, Cap’n.”

“Oh, aye?” Killian asked, tilting his head with renewed interest, despite his desire not to seem overeager.

“Indeed, for how you have described it anyways, Sir. They’re quite rare in these parts, or so’s I’ve always heard. They tend to nest much further north, preferrin’ the cold.”

Killian nodded his understanding but remained silent, encouraging Turley’s talkative nature with a patient gaze. He was rewarded when Turley continued without pause.

“There’re many folks who consider ‘em an evil omen, Cap’n. Portents of storms and such like, but they’re such wee buggers, them petrels. I always wondered meself if they weren’t just allowin’ the winds to blow them to safety rather than heraldin’ the blast.”

Killian shook his head with begrudging humor. Even after nearly three years leading a crew of pirates rather than the formal naval sailors they had once been, he was continually surprised by their superstitious beliefs. They claim to be black-hearted, fearless outlaws, yet frightfully unwilling to take a woman aboard (even Milah at the beginning), sail under the red morning sun, or set out on a Friday.. All due to tall tales of downfall and destruction. It was just a bird, wind-rattled and knocked off-course, needing to regain its strength; certainly not some ill stroke of luck.

“I heartily agree with you, mate,” Killian said when Turley’s words trailed off, giving him a clap on the shoulder before leaving the galley. “I appreciate you finding the herring. I’ll be back for it once lunch has been cleared.”

Turley assented readily and turned back to his task, humming idly. The Captain seemed in a better state of mind than he’d been in since losing his hand, and witnessing his love’s death. To Turley it seemed nothing but good luck, and he was simply glad for it.

~~ * ~~ * ~~

Feeding the petrel at noon was a more awkward and messier business than Killian had anticipated; first he was struggling to open the sealed tin with just one hand, then handling the pungent small fish and their juices in his attempts to coax the bird to eat. Once it snatched the first bit in its delicate, curved bill, however, no more coddling was necessary. Soon, the petrel was grasping tiny herring right from the can, swallowing chunks as fast as it could manage. It emitted a rough sort of squawk in his direction once it finished its meal. Chuckling, Killian could certainly admit it was no nightingale’s song, but he chose to see it as an enthusiastic thanks all the same.

“I’m afraid that’s all for now, you shameless beggar,” he chided gently while clearing the empty tin away and wiping the table clean. To his surprise, the bird stepped nearer, lightly pecking at his fingers, almost playfully or in gratitude, not at all sharply enough to hurt. Holding his breath, Killian turned his hand open and palm up; the petrel nuzzled against his warm skin. Improbable as it seemed, the gesture could almost be called affectionate.

“You are a funny one, aren’t you?” the pirate murmured, scratching one finger lightly over the bird’s dark gray cap. He chose to ignore how his voice sounded equally fond.

When he returned that evening, the shadows outside his cabin’s windows were already long, and the sun had long sunk in the west. After its performance at midday, Killian was sure the petrel would be hungry again and eagerly awaiting its dinner. Yet, upon entering his cabin with canned anchovies, hoping they would not prove too salty for his animal guest, he found the bird absent from the center table altogether. Instead, it flitted for one spot to another at the desk in the room’s far corner near the window. It fluttered, then paused to alight upon the various open books strewn over the surface, cooking its tiny head and peering down intently at the pages. Had Killian not known better, he would have thought it was actually reading the words in Liam’s beloved tomes.

By this point, Kilian was charmed by the petrel’s odd antics, his lips stretching into an ill-accustomed smile as he watched before he moved to lay out his offering. The dark cloud that had hung over him before the bird’s arrival had dissipated. Though he couldn’t explain why, Killian welcomed the lighter mood, hoping it signified better days to come.

The petrel let out its brash trill a few more times before fluttering over to feed quickly on the anchovy, as enthusiastically as it had eaten the herring. Upon finishing, however, it did not relax as it had done previously. Instead, it flitted across the room, hovering near the window and making its distinctive call. The bird then fluttered around Killian’s head and shoulders before returning to the window, its desire for freedom as clear as if it had spoken the words aloud.

“Of course, little one,” Killian sighed reluctantly, no longer embarrassed about speaking to it as if it were human. “Naturally you would wish to return to the air.”

As he opened the window pane, the bird uttered a softer note, unlike its previous raucous cries. Killian smiled ruefully as he watched it slip through the opening and fly away. He had never considered refusing to let it go free; still, he missed the petrel’s presence in his cabin almost immediately. It might have been only a lost bird, but for a flicker of time, he felt a connection, a kinship, that had been sorely lacking in his life.

Yet, to Killian’s pleased astonishment, it was far from the last he would see of the storm petrel. While he would have expected the bird to be gone, never to return again, as days and weeks at sea went by, the small bird reappeared often - usually at first light, near the wheel where Killian was often steering, taking the night’s last watch upon himself as captain to be certain all was well when the Jolly was perhaps most vulnerable. After his intriguing initial encounter with his new feathered friend, he had learned that petrels were largely nocturnal and - like pirates and sailors themselves - rarely came ashore unless nesting. Again, that strange sense of kindred closeness swept over him; more than he had known for entirely too long. He had also learned that pairs of storm petrels were largely monogamous, and he could not help but wonder if the small gray co-pilot had lost its mate, leading it to return to the ship and humans where it had been shown kindness, strange as the attachment might seem. At any rate, once “his” petrel had begun to make recurrent appearances, Killian deliberately took the shift which found him at the helm when dawn’s first light crept over the horizon.

Though wise enough not to voice any notice or question him, the more observant and early-rising members of Captain Jones’ crew began to notice the bird’s repeated arrivals at the wheel near their captain. It seemed the small creature came solely to visit Jones and to snag a brief ride perched on the ship’s side, the sea breeze rustling its feathers until it either fluttered below deck to follow Killian at the end of his watch or took to the sky again.. Killian naturally sought to avoid seeming overly fond or doting on the petrel. For the leader of a band of miscreants and outlaws who lived a rough life by their wits and the sweat of their brows, it was dangerous indeed to show any sort of weakness. Any appearance of “going soft” could be a death sentence if his crew began to doubt his capabilities because of it.

All the same, those who worked nearby sometimes saw glimpses of his twinkling eyes or more mischievous smiles from time to time - things that had seemed lost to the past before the bird’s arrival. The cabin boy Killian had taken aboard at a port several months before - to save him from a life of abuse and privation - sometimes thought he heard snatches of the Captain singing or humming shanties under his breath when the petrel was present at Killian’s side. The boy’s loyalty, however, was unassailable and absolute. He’d never dream of breathing a word.

This continued for some time, the petrel’s comings and goings becoming an expected part of the rhythm aboard the Jolly Roger. Its diminutive gray form and rapid flight over the nearby waves became an easily recognizable sight to all who sailed upon the ship. What was more, the bird’s presence was gratefully welcomed - Captain Jones was less volatile and less prone to strike out against those who displeased him.

If the petrel had not yet proven its worth to any sailors reluctant to accept it, then one stormy night it would have silenced any doubts once and for all…

They had not taken an enemy vessel in some time, and the cargo taken in their most recent haul had been offloaded at the last port nearly two days prior. It was a good thing, too, because as shadows began to lengthen in late afternoon, wind whipped up wildly, frothing the waves and rocking the ship violently. The extra weight of a full cargo might have caused them to take on a frightening amount of water as the hull rose and fell. 

At first, the men manned their posts with calm determination. A storm at sea was always serious, easily spelling the difference between life and death in how one met its ravages. They had faced many such squalls, and Jones guided them through with an indefinable but comforting mix of experience and assurance. This gale, however, seemed different, bent on their destruction as the walls of water rose and then dropped the Jolly as though it were a toy in a child’s bathtub. As they dipped, the rising swells threatened to pour over the sides and sink them permanently. The crew gripped their ropes or boards, holding tightly to whatever piece they manned, but more and more fervently sending prayers for mercy to Poseidon, Davy Jones, or the sirens that would greet them below the surface.

Amidst the rolling chaos, the rapid beating of wings swept low over their heads as a dark,  familiarly recognizable form sailed across the deck and landed heavily, talons clinging to the worn leather on Killian’s shoulder. Though it had clearly fought mightily against the drafts, their petrel was claiming its place heedless of the danger.

Hardly able to acknowledge the delicate weight where it roosted at his side, even nearer than usual, Killian quickly raised his hook from the spokes of the wheel, brushing its curve over the bird’s downy underbelly in a single stroke of greeting. The bird trilled and seemed almost to rub its head against his rough cheek in affection. The exchange lasted only a moment, and in their heightened anxiety, few, if any, bore witness. Then, Killian gripped the wheel tightly once more with hand and hook, roaring out orders and encouragement, exhorting the men not to give up the fight, though the storm raged on and endurance flagged.

The petrel, not content to merely watch and ride along, was hardly finished - nor did it perch silently idle. Instead, it took to the air again, if only just, fluttering rapidly about the captain’s head, repeating its sharp, strident call, almost in his ear, and making itself nigh impossible to ignore. At first, Killian instinctively waved his hand to ward off its advances, calling out in consternation at its unusual behavior. However, it quickly became clear the tiny bird’s determined efforts would not falter.

Brow furrowed in thought, Killian squinted in concentration at his companion, finally sensing that it was trying to tell him something. Swiping the driving rain from his vision, Killian gave in and murmured low under his breath, “Alright, little one, I understand. What is it you wish to show me?”

Again, reacting as if it understood his every word, the petrel chirruped a sort of agreement and took flight again. It had to dip and bob against the lashing wind and rain in order to stay aloft, but it flapped madly, its wings battling back against the heaves of the storm. Valiantly, it hovered within sight, just ahead of the ship’s bow and almost seemed to look back expectantly, as if asking whether or not he meant to follow its lead.

Despite the tension in his shoulders, the worry and responsibility weighing upon him as the storm attempting to break them apart and bear the pieces to the depths, Killian couldn’t hold back a huff of laughter at the bird’s assumed insistence. “Aye, we’re with you,” he uttered aloud, turning the wheel just slightly to accommodate the direction in which the petrel led, shaking his head in disbelief even as he did so. It seemed a mite crazy, true enough, and yet birds survived the wild, its brutal conditions and weather, all the time. And what other chance of survival did they have at this point if the tempest didn’t slake soon? He could not see the way before them clearly enough to navigate by any of his normal methods. At the end of the day, they were all at the whim of Mother Nature, whatever their skill or experience, so the chance or fate that had brought this small creature to him and the feeling in his gut that urged him on seemed as good a course to follow as any.

Some few further agonizing minutes followed, as they still rose and fell in the grip of rolling waves. The entire crew seemed to hold their breath as the ship bobbed and soared, up and down, over and again, eyes riveted on the dark clouds and forks of lightning ahead of them and straining to glimpse in time the jagged rocks that lurked portending their doom.

Slowly, and yet more and more certainly as they persisted, the wild rocking, the careening to and fro, lessened, as though the churning water itself had begun to loosen its massive grip. They were moving into miraculously calmer waters, Killian noted with a breath of relief. The storm still howled around them, but in a bright flash of lightning, he saw that the ship had entered the sheltered lea of a hidden cove. The tall rock faces rising on either side as the Jolly sailed into their cover lessened the buffeting of the waves and allowed the ship to maintain its ballance once again. He would not have seen the entrance with the elements obscuring vision as they’d been - not without the petrel. It had led them to safety.

As if on cue, the bird came to rest atop the wheel, perching on the curve of wood between the two spokes where his hand and hook were placed. Blinking placidly, it seemed to look at him with a bit of pride before cooing softly and burrowing hits head and beak under its wing to snatch a moment’s well-earned rest.

Nodding and allowing himself a look around to take stock, Killian saw the reassurance on his crew’s faces as all realized they had made it through. Killian called out a few orders to check various parts of the sip for any damages and make certain the ship would stay in place until the storm blew itself out. This petrel with its almost sentient ability to sense when it was needed, come to his aid, and raise his spirits, would always have a safe place to rest with them on the Jolly Roger.

~~*~~*~~

Until the day it didn’t return.

The storm petrel had taken to arriving regularly every two or three days, wherever they might be sailing or how much distance they had covered, but then one evening it failed to appear. It didn’t come that night, or the next. Soon a week had passed, and still it didn’t come back to the Jolly, worrying Killian more than he dared let on.

He could not simply drop anchor and wait, nor could he leave his post, his men, and his ship, to search for his tiny companion - far dearer than even a pet could ever be. He had no way to call the bird; it had always come to him of its own accord and in its own time… but it had never stayed away for so long.

His men noticed as well, whispering amongst themselves when the Captain began taking his evening meals alone at night rather than joining them in the galley, when the door to his cabin slammed with such heavy finality that all knew it was a barrier not to be crossed until the Captain emerged again. They shook their heads in dismay when orders were bellowed more harshly or conversations were more clipped and terse. Killian Jones was too diligent a man to shirk his duties or lead them astray, yet all felt his unease and knew its cause. Many of them were aware enough to know the petrel had saved them from the storm, just as Killian did, and had grown to enjoy its visits and watch for it in their own ways. Its absence had stretched on long enough that it seemed clear something must have happened to the poor bird - not that any would say such to the Captain.

Turley and the cabin boy were the only ones genuinely close enough to ask Killian about it, and the youngster only dared question hesitantly one night as he brought the Captain his dinner tray if he had seen his gray bird lately. The dulled acceptance in his expected denial bowed the boy’s head and forestalled any further inquiry.

But that night, as young Billy left, Killian heard a light rapping sound at the small window above his bunk. Even knowing better, his heart leapt with a small flicker of hope. It was the portal by which his petrel had entered and left his cabin so many times. Scuffling and scratching followed, so weak and soft as to have gone unheard if he hadn’t been sitting alone and quiet at his desk. Hustling to the window, Killian unlatched it and carefully opened the glass pane.

To his astonishment and joy, quickly followed by rapid alarm, the storm petrel toppled from its weary perch on the windowsill and landed on the ledge just inside the room. Its tiny frail quivered, its little feathered breast rising and falling rapidly. It wasn’t a large bird to begin with; Turley’s familiar voice echoed in Killian’s head at the thought, needlessly rambling about petrels being some of the widest ranging seabirds known to man, despite being naught bigger than swallows. ‘Hardy little critters, they are,’ Killian could still hear the cook yammering internally until he finally shook his head clear. What he needed to do now was ascertain what the bird needed and what he could do to help.

Having been small already, the petrel looked terribly frail on the dusty, cushioned ledge amidst heavy tomes, navigation tools, and the other detritus of several years. It was obvious the poor creature had not been eating and was wasting away half-starved as a result. Along with that, it was soaked, its feathers in bedraggled disarray and missing in places. The bird lay still for so long without uttering any sound or even trying to right itself of explore the space that Killian feared for a horrible moment that it must be near death.

Peering closer with careful, gentle movements, he saw that the petrel was injured as well as weakened. Not immediately apparent because of how ruffled in was in general, Killian noted that its wing was bent at an awkward angle along its side rather than folded up properly in repose.

The bird hardly lifted its head as Killian stroked one finger down its back, hoping to soothe and offer even the tiniest bit of comfort. Striding urgently across the room, he swung the cabin door open, calling urgently down the hall for Whale, the ship’s doctor, to come on the double; he was needed in the Captain’s quarters.

Whirling to re-enter the room, Killian’s eyes quickly passed over the space, noting the crust of his bread left from supper and the seeds which had been baked atop it still littering the plate. He brought it quickly to his patient, then poured some water for the pitched by his washstand into the empty saucer which had held soup, hoping he might coax the petrel to eat even a morsel and gain some nourishment.

Next, he grasped a plush cotton dressing gown, hanging untouched on the door of his closest, purposefully out of easy sight. It had been Milah’s favorite to wrap up in after the rare luxury of a bath, and the sight of it or the feel of its material beneath his fingers had wrung his heart until now, bringing the hot, raging need for vengeance back to the fore. He was suddenly glad he had not parted with it though. He didn’t dare jostle the injured bird overmuch for fear of hurting it further. But while he couldn’t rub it down to dry it fully, he could tuck the robe’s downy layers around it and warm its shivering frame.

“There now, little one,” he crooned gently. “Take a bit of food and catch your breath. You’re safe now…” his voice caught and he swallowed before adding, “We’ll put you back to rights, don’t fret.”

Killian didn’t actually know if a ship’s surgeon could set a bird’s wing as he would a human man’s broken arm, but he could hear Whale’s footsteps pounding down the hall toward his cabin, and knew he would find out soon. Before Whale - or anyone else - could arrive to see him, Killian bent to carefully lean over the bird’s small form, not sure what possessed him, but following the instinct before he could question it. As delicately as possible for someone who’d had no cause for gentility in longer than he could remember, for just one breath, one single heartbeat, he brought his lips to the bird’s tiny head. Maybe it was brought on by some long-buried memory of his own mother, lost to his mind’s eye other than a voice whose soothing singing sometimes echoed in his sleep, but the kiss seemed an offering to ease fever pain and fear with hope and good wishes.

It was the barest brush contact - a mere moment’s touch - but the air in the room abruptly changed. Something seemed to shrink and then expand; the atmosphere held its breath. Glittering rainbow hues flashed in front of his eyes, and Killian jerked backwards in alarm. The petrel’s shape went a bit hazy as Killian strained to understand what was happening right before his eyes, and then his small friend began to grow and change, forcing him to take a few more stunned steps backward and wonder if he had somehow hit his head and addled his brain. His accustomed companion was transforming even as he watched.

He heard a shout as Whale - and probably a few curious others too - came to a halt behind him. Exclamations of awe and surprise were heard but left unacknowledged over his shoulder. Killian blinked, trying be sure he could trust his vision and to reconcile what shouldn’t be possible, but sat before him.

Where the storm petrel had lay near death just seconds ago, stood a blushing, beautiful young woman. She was equally soaked to the skin, long blonde hair plastered to her head and shoulders. Her lithe, slender frame trembled where she stood clutching the dressing gown around her tightly. Still, there was something about her eyes as she stared back at him silently; something that he knew deep within despite never having seen her before.

She cocked her head curiously, as if she too was trying to understand where she was and what had happened. With that motion, Killian knew without a shadow of a doubt. This young woman had been his petrel; his long lost avian friend was this lovely woman. He didn’t know how it was possible, but he was absolutely certain. And he was drawn to her just as he had been to her former guise. She took a cautious step toward him, and he held out a hand to draw her near and hold her close. Whatever had brought them together, whatever magic was at work, she was the most beautiful sight he had ever beheld.

~~*~~*~~

By the time rays of morning sunlight came slanting down the walls inside Killian’s cabin, he and his soulmate - he knew that now - had talked the whole night through. She was no longer a storm petrel but a princess what had been cursed to take on avian form, and his act of True Love - aware of it or not - had set her free. The jealous witch who’d cast the spell had falsely believed the princess was luring her chosen partner away rather than accept that he had a roving eye. Petrels were a migratory species, keeping her far from all she knew and loved - and of course, unable to speak or gain help for her affliction. For hours they sat side-by-side on his bunk, hands clasped tightly as this woman - Emma, her name was Emma - told him what she’d experience ever since the curse took hold, shifting her very reality to something unfathomable. Tears pooled in her eyes, glistening on her lashes, both while recounting her own trials, and then again while listening to the betrayal and loss that had shaken Killian’s world to its foundations as well.

The connection between them from Emma’s first appearance on his ship drew them ever closer as they talked, and touched, and inevitably joined in another kiss. This time it was two souls meeting on equal footing, and they drank deeply of the perfection that shook them each to the core. Perhaps it was always meant to be this way; the two of them bound to meet long before they ever knew. Neither could explain the pull, but it also couldn’t be denied.

As they went topside the next morning and Killian began to introduce her to an eagerly enthusiastic crew, he didn’t even try to explain, but simply savored the moment, thrilled that all the heartache and pain had finally brought him there, with Emma at his side. Her smaller frame tucked seamlessly into his side as she beamed at his new ally and charmed them one and all.

When they stood at the wheel - just the two of them again at last - Killian behind her, his arms encircling her as he steered the ship, he felt the same joy he had when she’d kept him company perched on the wheel so many times before, but magnified exponentially now that they could fully communicate and understand one another. With the salt air in their faces and the horizon in view, they set sail - a happy new beginning stretching out ahead of them.

Tagging a few who may enjoy: @cssns @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi

@jrob64 @apiratewhopines @anmylica @scientificapricot @xarandomdreamx @booksteaandtoomuchtv

@spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @lenfaz @jonesfandomfanatic

@eastwesthomeisbest @grimmswan @stahlop @belovedcreation @xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic

@winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @hollyethecurious @darkcolinodonorgasm @caught-in-the-filter @resident-of-storybrooke

@the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @elizabeethan @goforlaunchcee @mie779 @kday426 @iamstartraveller776

[justanoasisimagines]

Fluff Alphabet

Hey my lovelies back with another fluff alphabet, my requests are open and my guidelines are pinned to the top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

A = Affection - How afectionate are they? Do they like recieving affection etc?

Killian is an extremely affectionate person. Physical Touch is one of his love languages. He also likes you to be affectionate with him. Killian can be quite cheeky with his affection. Sometimes being affectionate to get a reaction out of you.

B = Bathing - Do they like to bathe or shower alone? What's it like to share a bath or shower with him?

Killian prefers showering with you. Killian witnesses bathing as an opportunity to relax, to talk about your days, to allow you both to soak off the week. A shower is another opportunity for Killian to roam his hands over your body, perfect for kisses and intimate moments. Being in a relationship with Killian means rarely showering alone.

C = Cooking - Can they cook? Do they like to cook? Would they cook for you? What type of dishes would they like to cook?

Killian is not the best cook in the world. In your relationship, you would do the majority of the cooking. Killian would not be eager to learn how to cook, he knows the basics, and he can get by. However, he doesn't enjoy the process.

D = Dates - What type of dates would they like to go on? Do they like to plan dates? Be taken on dates? How frequently is date night? etc

Going on dates is something Killian isn't used to. He knows how to court someone, but the modern idea of dating is confusing to Killian. You would have to teach Killian about all the activities you could do for a date. It could be quite fun, Killian would be happy with it too. It gives him an excuse to spend time with you.

E = Effort - How much effort do they put in? How do they show their efforts? Are they either an all out or all in kind of person?

Killian is an all-in kind of person. He's never going to do anything half-arsed. He knows early on if he wants to put effort into your relationship. Killian shows his effort by giving you his quality time being affectionate and merging his world with yours.

F = Family - Do they want to have children? What would family life look like? How many children do they want? etc?

Killian wouldn't be opposed to having a family, however, he's in no rush for it. He'd want his children to enjoy life on the sea as much as he does. He'd be a stern parent, wanting the best for his children. Killian would also love telling them stories.

G = Gentleman/Lady - How much of a gentleman/lady would they be? Would they hold out doors for you? Pull out your chair? Walk on the road side? etc

Killian is a gentleman in his own loveable rouge way. He's not going to be sweet, but he is charming and protective. No one is going to hurt you and get away with it. He will keep you out of harm's way. He'll open doors out for you, only to whisper something in your ear.

H = Honeymoon - Where would they like to go on honeymoon? What would it look like? etc

Killian would like to spend his honeymoon with you on the Jolly Roger. He'd like to travel across the oceans with you taking you to all his favourite spots. The length of the honeymoon would depend on you both. Killian wouldn't mind if you went away for a few days or several days to a couple of months. Only providing it's just you two.

I = I love you - How long would it take them to fall in love with you? How would they confess? Is it a big deal to them etc?

It takes a while for Kilian to fall in love with you. He doesn't expect to at first, Seeing it as nothing more than playful flirtatious banter yet it unexpectedly blossoms. Telling you is a big deal to Killian, he searched for the right moment. He fails on several occasions. He wants you to know he's serious and committed to you, so for Killian, the moment has to be just right.

J = Jealously - How easily do they get jealous? What makes them jealous? How do they react when your jealous? etc

Killian is a jealous person. He doesn't take too kindly to approaching you or flirting with you. He's naturally a possessive person. He has two forms of approach, direct and non-direct. Either way, he's not going to let it slide.

I've got a jealously headcanon here which goes into more detail.

K = Kisses - What kisses are they more likely to give? What kisses do they like to recieve? etc

Giving; Neck kisses, passionate kisses, come back to bed kisses, possessiv kisses,

Recieving; Good night kisses, good morning kisses, passionate kisses, sleepy kisses etc.

L = Love Language - What's their love language(s)? What languages are they most receptive to?

Killian's love language which he's receptive to and one of his love languages is physical touch. He prefers to show his emotions rather than have an emotionally deep conversation with you. Killian's secondary love language would be gift-giving. He'd surprise you with random things he'd found on his journeys to give you.

M = Marriage - Do they want to get married? What would being married to them look like? Do they want a large or small wedding? etc

Killian wants to get married more than he lets on. He wants you to have his last name. He wants to bind you together forever. When Killian marries you, there is no going back for him. Killian's not fussed over how big or small the ceremony is as long as he gets to marry you.

N = Nicknames - What nicknames would they use for you? Do you give any to them?

You; Love, Sweetheart, Darling, My Sweet, Beautiful,

O = Obvious - How obvious are they? What gives them away? Their face or actions?

It's difficult to tell if Killian likes you or not. He's naturally flirtatious and charming, it's difficult to tell if he's being serious about you. Even others around you can't tell if he's doing it because it's naturally him or because he likes you. Killian does have to be blunt with his intentions. Being more physically affectionate etc. In the end, Killian does have to have a conversation with you about his feelings and his intentions.

P = Public Displays of Affection - Do they enjoy PDA? How comfotable are they with PDA?

Killian loves public displays of affection. He does it in a kind of possessive way of telling everyone around, you belong to him. He also can't get enough of you. He's affectionate because he wants to me, if not being a little bit cheeky at times. Killian's always pushing boundaries of what's suitable in public.

Q = Quality Time - How do they like to spend quality time with you? How do they make time? Can they communicate effectively when they need quality time with you?

Killian loves traveling with you. He loves spending time with you on the Jolly Roger exploring the world together. It's his favorite way to spend any time with you. Kilian is not the best communicator, so when he needs to spend time with you, he'll eventually drag you away from whatever's taking up your time.

R = Romantic - Do they consider themselves romantic?

Killian considers himself to be romantic. He knows how to make you swoon. He knows what you like, so he'd considered himself to be romantic. Although, he finds himself learning about confusing courting methods. He's not going to follow all of them because he thinks some are odd. He does like to bring you flowers and chocolate from time to time.

T = Tease - Do they like to tease you? If so, how?

Yes, Killian does love to tease you. he likes to see you caught off guard when he whispers something into your ear. Killian feels powerful with the knowledge he can get a reaction out of you. It's usually by whispering something provocative in your ear.

U = Umbrella - Would they hold an umbrella for you? Would they kiss you in the rain? Dance with you in the rain?

Killian doesn't understand the point of umbrellas. It comes from spending so much time on the ocean, that he's experienced rough seas. There's not much you can do and it's only a little water. However, will he kiss you in the rain? Absolutely, he doesn't need the rain to find an excuse to kiss you. Dancing? He doesn't dance, and he doesn't want to lose his reputation, but if you ask him enough, he will just for you.

V = Vanity - How do they see themselves? Positively or negatively? What's their favourite part of their body etc?

Killian likes what he sees in the mirror. He sees himself as rugged and handsome. His favorite feature is his face. He believes that is the body party that attracted you to him in the first place.

W = Whole - When you're apart do they feel like part of them is missing? How do they deal with being apart from you?

Kilian can handle being away from you, it doesn't mean he likes it. He doesn't like being away from you for too long. A couple of days at most. While you're away life continues as normal, however, his mind flickers to you frequently.

X = Xtra - An extra headcanon

Killian keeps a picture of you in his pocket. He doesn't like most modern technology, however, cameras have proved to be useful. Now he can keep a picture of you wherever he goes. He can look at it whenever he pleases.

Y = You - What do you they like most about you? Favourite body part etc?

Killian's favorite of your body would be the whole thing. There is not a part of your body he doesn't like. His favorite part of your personality would be your ability to keep up with him. He needs someone who can keep up with him and the fact you do makes him even more eager.

Z = Zzzz - Sleeping headcanons

Killian likes to be the big spoon. He also sleeps by the door, if someone is going to attack you while you're sleeping, he wants to be the first person they make contact with. Killian doesn't sleep with his hook on, but his sword is placed beside his bed.

[jrob64]

A Love/Hate Relationship - a CS modern AU one-shot

I wrote this story because I was in need of fluff, humor and hurt/comfort after the painful experience of losing two dogs in less than a year. Zeke, who was in my story Sowing Seeds of Trust, died of cancer last June. Two months later, we adopted Winston, who was the main character in Pet for Rent. Somehow, he swallowed part of a brush (while he wasn't at home) which perforated his intestines and caused internal bleeding. He died May 23. Writing my favorite trope for my favorite couple is therapeutic for me as I deal with my heartbreak.

Many thanks to @kmomof4 and @hookedmom.

Summary: Killian Jones' neighbor, Emma Swan, has hated him since the first day they met. When she finds out he came down with the flu and attempts to nurse him back to health, he's more than a little confused.

Rating: T

Words: 2582

Also posted to ffn and Ao3

Story is under the cut

*********

Killian Jones buried his face in a pillow and pulled it up over his head in an attempt to stop the incessant pounding. After several painful moments, he realized the noise wasn’t in his head, but was coming from the front door of his apartment.

Groaning, he tossed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting with his head in his hands for a short while. When he finally got to his feet, he swayed dizzily and stumbled into the door frame, leaning against it to try to regain his balance.

He eventually made his way across the living room, unlocked the deadbolt and threw the door open. “What?” he demanded loudly, regretting it immediately when a sharp pain shot behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut before even registering who was on the other side of the door.

“Jones, how many times do I have to tell you to…Wow! You look like hell.”

Killian cracked his eyes open enough to see his neighbor from across the hall, Emma Swan. Infuriating to the highest degree and just as beautiful, she was the last person he wanted to see while he was in his current state. The two of them had a love/hate relationship…minus the love.

They had gotten off on the wrong foot when he moved in a little over a year ago. Unaware that she was a police officer who worked the night shift, he woke her up shouting orders at the movers. Emma Swan was not a morning person, especially after working an eight hour shift on the streets of Boston, and she informed him of it in no uncertain terms.

After that day, every interaction between them was filled with tension and snarkiness. Killian wished they could go back to when they met and start over again, because he knew she was basing her hatred of him on that first impression. In all honesty, he was quite intrigued by the fierce blonde and would like to know if there was a sweet or funny side of her she kept hidden very deep inside. Very, very deep.

Now she was here, standing at his door, scrutinizing him like a bug squashed on the bottom of her shoe. “Hangover?” she smirked.

He sighed. “I have the flu, Swan. It’s been going around at the office and I wasn’t lucky enough to avoid it. Now, if you’re done yelling at me, is there something I can help you with? If not, I’d really like to go back to bed.”

She took a step forward and unexpectedly pressed her palm to his forehead, then both hands to his unshaven cheeks. “You’ve got a fever.”

“Usually accompanies the flu. Now if you’ll…”

“Do you have medicine?”

“No, I…”

“Have you eaten? Are you drinking plenty of fluids?”

“I haven’t…”

“How long have you had it? Have you seen a doctor?”

Killian rested his pounding head against the door. “Must you use your interrogation techniques on me? I haven’t committed a crime, you know.”

“I’m trying to help,” she said, clearly offended.

“I could use less help and more sleep,” he grumbled.

“Yes, good,” she said, pushing past him into his apartment. “Go back to bed and I’ll get you something to drink. Do you want water, juice or…”

“More questions, Swan? Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“All you have to drink is water, Dr. Pepper Zero and beer?” she asked, peering into his refrigerator. Closing it, she straightened up and began opening cupboards. “Do you have tea bags? British people like to drink tea, don’t they?”

He knew it would hurt his head to roll his eyes, so he simply threw up his hands and trudged off to his bedroom. Behind him, he could hear Emma celebrating the fact that she’d located the tea bags.

He had just gotten back to sleep, when he was shaken awake. “What now?” he growled, flopping onto his back.

“I made some tea and found Advil in your medicine cabinet. You need to drink something and get these pills in you.”

He raised his head and blinked up at her blearily. “You went through my medicine cabinet?”

“Yeah. Did you know condoms have an expiration date? The ones you have in there expired almost two years ago. Better not use them, because they’re likely to break.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, letting his head drop back down on his pillow. “Please just let me die.”

“You aren’t gonna die from the flu, Jones.”

“I meant from embarrassment,” he muttered under his breath.

“Sit up,” she commanded, sliding her arm under his pillow and pushing until he did as he was told.

First, she handed him a bottle of water. After glaring at her for several seconds, he finally took it, then swiped the two pills she held in her other palm. He popped them into his mouth and downed them with the water.

“Happy now?” he asked.

“Deliriously,” she quipped. “Now drink your tea.”

He accepted the mug she offered him and held it to his lips. Cautiously taking a sip, he grimaced and spit it back into the cup. “Did you heat the water at all? It’s barely warm! And how bloody much sugar did you put in it?”

“Well, I didn’t want you to burn your mouth,” she explained haughtily. “And I put in the same amount of sugar as I put in my coffee. Four spoonfuls.”

“Four?” he questioned. “Are you trying to kill me, or just give me diabetes?”

“You’re not a very good patient, Jones. You could at least be grateful that I’m helping you.”

“If you recall, I didn’t ask for your help.”

She ignored him, fluffing his pillow and pushing at his chest to get him to lay back down. “I found a can of chicken noodle soup in your cupboard. I’m going to heat it up.”

“Don’t add any sugar to it,” he groused, as she walked out of the bedroom, taking the tepid cup of tea with her.

“I heard that,” she threw over her shoulder.

“Of course she heard that, but didn’t hear when I told her to leave me alone,” he mumbled into his pillow. He tossed and turned, knowing that if he went to sleep, the maddening woman would just wake him up again.

Sure enough, she was back at his bedside within ten minutes, carefully carrying a plate containing a steaming bowl of soup and a small stack of saltine crackers. He sat up before she could order him to, and took the plate from her.

“You didn’t add anything to this, did you?” he asked.

“Nope, I just heated it up,” she assured him.

He dipped the spoon into the soup, blew on it and put it in his mouth, then promptly choked and sputtered. “Bloody hell, Swan! Didn’t you add any water to this?”

“Why would I add water?” she asked, a confused frown forming on her face.

“Because Campbell’s soup is condensed. It’s too salty this way. Adding extra water dilutes it enough that it tastes like soup is supposed to taste, rather than tasting like…like the ocean. Haven’t you ever made soup from a can before?”

“Sure,” she said, crossing her arms across her chest petulantly. “I make Progresso soup all the time, but I never add water to it.”

“Progresso soup isn’t condensed. This is.” He took the stack of crackers, then thrust the plate back towards her. “I’ll just eat these, thanks very much. Now that you’ve tended to me, you can leave me in peace.”

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” she asked.

Was that concern he saw on her face? Surely not. Emma Swan would never be concerned about him. It would be more realistic if she were to try to poison him. Perhaps he should have been more careful eating and drinking what she gave him.

Shaking his head slightly to try to clear those thoughts, he said gruffly, “Yes, I’m sure. It’s not like you really helped anyway.”

This time, he thought he saw a flash of hurt cross her face, before she turned and left the room. Soon he heard the front door close.

He couldn’t have really seen Emma Swan look concerned and hurt, could he? Great. Now he was going to have to add hallucinations to his list of symptoms.

He ate the crackers, then lay down and turned onto his side, tugging the blanket up around his shoulders. He was achy and feverish, but it was the guilt over how he treated his apparently well-meaning neighbor that kept him from falling asleep.

*********

Three days later, after his fever had been broken for twenty-four hours, Killian went back to work. Upon returning home at the end of the day and getting his keys out to unlock his apartment, the door across the hall opened and Emma stepped out.

“Oh, hey Jones. Looks like you recovered, no thanks to me.”

Killian rubbed his finger behind his ear. “I owe you an apology, Swan. I was rude and should have never said what I did.”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s no big deal. I guess I’ll never be a Florence Nightingale.” Turning on her heel, she muttered, “See ya around.”

“Swan…Emma, wait,” he called out, hurrying after her.

She turned around. “What?” she huffed.

“I, uh, I truly am sorry. It was very kind of you to try to help me, but…”

“But what?”

“But why did you do that? I mean, given the fact you hate me…”

“I don’t hate you,” she interrupted.

“Really? You could have fooled me.”

Emma stuck her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and looked down at the floor for several long moments. When she finally looked up, he was shocked to see the vulnerability on her face.

“Look… I’m not good with…people,” she said softly. “And I’m also not good at admitting when I’m wrong.”

She paused and he waited patiently, wondering where she was going with this.

“None of the people I know would be concerned enough to check on me if I called in sick to work. You’ve lived here long enough for me to realize that…that you don’t seem to have anyone like that, either. I never see anyone coming or going on a regular basis - besides the pizza delivery guy, but I don’t think he counts.”

Killian chuckled dryly. “You’re very observant, Swan.” He paused for a moment, debating whether he should open up to her as she was to him. “And you’re also correct,” he added finally. “I moved here from England when I was transferred for my job, and I don’t have any close friends yet.”

She nodded. “I figured it was something like that. The day you moved in, I was…well, to put it bluntly, I was a bitch. And, as I said, I’m not good at apologizing, so I just let things go on being…uncomfortable. When I saw that you were sick the other day, I thought it was my chance to make things better between us, but I screwed that up, too. I just…I guess I wanted to let you know that you didn’t have to be alone while you were suffering - that there was someone who cared. I…I’m sorry I made things worse.”

“You didn’t make things worse,” he assured her. “I appreciate the effort. Actually, if you think about it, it was really quite comical.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“And they do say laughter is the best medicine, so your failed attempts at helping are probably what cured me so quickly.”

Seeing the grin on his face, the corners of her own mouth turned up a bit. “You’re an idiot, Jones.”

He took a step closer. “How about if we start over, Emma? It would be nice to have a friend living across the hall.”

She eyed him, chewing her lip in contemplation. Then she held her hand out to him. “Hi, I’m Emma Swan. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

He reached forward to give her hand a firm shake. “Killian Jones. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Swan.”

She smiled and he was amazed at how it transformed her already lovely face. They stood awkwardly for several moments, until Killian said, “Well, I should let you go. Were you on your way to work?”

“Oh, uh, no. I was just going to get something to eat.”

He rubbed his hand along his jaw, dropping his eyes as he asked, “Would you, um…would you like some company?” Looking back up, he saw her eyes widen and hurried to add, “Just as a friend. As you well know, I don’t have much to eat in my apartment.”

She snorted out a laugh. “You still have more than I do at my place.” Turning away from him once again, she said, “If you’re sure, you’re welcome to join me. I was just gonna go to the diner around the corner. Tonight’s special is grilled cheese and onion rings.”

“Ah, greasy diner food,” he said, beginning to follow her. “You do know if you keep eating that stuff, your arteries are going to be filled with sludge.”

She chose to ignore him as she started down the stairs. “They have the best hot chocolate, too.”

“How much sugar do you add to it?” he grinned.

She glared at him over her shoulder. “No sugar, just cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon in hot chocolate? Sounds…interesting.”

She stopped on the landing and turned to look at him. “If you’re gonna make fun of my preferences for food and drink, you’re uninvited.”

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he said, “I meant no offense, Swan. Perhaps I’ll even give your…unique concoction a try.”

That meal led to another, and many more. Soon they added regular coffee dates. Gradually, at Killian’s urging, Emma tried and eventually acquired a taste for black coffee, no sugar. Even more gradually, at Emma’s urging, Killian acquired a taste for greasy diner food.

Six weeks after Emma’s attempt to nurse Killian back to health, they went on their first official date. Killian was very happy to discover that Emma Swan did indeed have both a sweet and funny side. They realized they had many things in common, as they talked during their dinner at one of Boston’s most renowned restaurants, then walked along the waterfront.

At the conclusion of the date, they shared a kiss outside her apartment door, which opened both of their eyes to the fact that there was a significant spark of attraction between them. As they continued to date, the spark ignited into a blazing flame. (They made sure to replace the expired condoms in Killian’s medicine cabinet, once it was obvious they were going to put them to use.)

They became each other’s ‘person’ - someone to laugh with, cry with, share everything with, and nurse back to health when the need arose. By the following winter, when the flu made its way through Killian’s office once again, he had his own live-in nurse, whose skills were much improved from the previous year.

By that time, they still had a love/hate relationship…but now, it was minus the hate.

*********

A couple of fun notes:

-Colin was drinking a Dr. Pepper Zero during the Meet & Greet I went to at GalaxyCon in Columbus last year.

-At another con several years ago, Jen admitted she never drank black coffee until Colin got her hooked on it. (No pun intended!)

*********

Thank you for reading.

Tagging:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4 @hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda

@pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426

@julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones

@zaharadessert @lyssapup27 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90 @apiratewhopines

@hollyethecurious @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @caught-in-the-filter @stahlop @veryverynotgoodwrites @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie @beckettj

[princess-and-the-swan]

One-Shot Fic Rec: A Love/Hate Relationship

By @jrob64 | Rating: T

Killian Jones' neighbor, Emma Swan, has hated him since the first day they met. When she finds out he came down with the flu and attempts to nurse him back to health, he's more than a little confused. A fluffy CS one-shot where Emma (attempts!) to nurse a sick Killian back to health even though they have a rocky relationship. It's cute and funny and a quick read if you need a lil pick me up! The author is going through a rough time so send them some love in their comments!

Read it on AO3

[pirateswhore]

Carve your name into my bedpost 🔞

one-shot drabbles written for cocktober 2023. most will be under 1k words. following the prompt list from @cs-c-ocktoberfest2023

Ch II - One Time Thing : Read on AO3

[0ffurself]

can i please request a killian jones x fem!reader??

one-shot, drabble, or headcannons, which ever is easiest for you <33

Dating Killian Jones Head canons

He would call you many different terms of endearment

Dear, doll, sweet, love, darling, or things that have to do with who you were in the Enchanted Forest, or just personal interests

He wouldn't be super handsy in public

He would definitely hold your hand sometimes

He gets very jealous easily

He is always scared he is gonna lose you

Constantly trying to prove himself

Very in love

Protective

Willing to try new things or do new things with you, all because you asked

Hella princess treatment

Loves to compliment you

Will take you on dates sometimes

When he gets busy with stuff it means he doesn't always have time for you

When he is super busy and can't find time to see you he will definitely apologize

He is big spoon

Aftercare is key with him, he is very gentle during after care

Sorry if it's short and late and kinda bad. I have been taking some time to focus on making myself better, mentally. I will be trying to get back into the swing of writing and I will write more Killian Jones fics bc this one is really lazy. And I will try to get more character fics out that aren't Killian Jones too, again I apologize pookies.

🐍

[happy-emmdings]

Pirate-Son Bonding

on AO3

Category: one shot, fluff, Captain Cobra

Summary: While Emma enjoys a girl's night out, Killian and Henry have a boy's night of their own. Homework, movies and 'sword'fights included. Henry comes to an important realisation.

Word count: 1 695

Henry glanced into the living room where Killian was sitting, buried in a book ever since Emma left for her girl's night out with Mary Margaret, Mulan and Ruby and Dorothy, who were visiting from Oz.

Henry started working on his homework when Emma left and Hook gave him his space, but still remained in his proximity on the other end of the open space of their ground floor. Somehow it felt nice to have company even though they were each doing their own thing. But when Henry started to lose his focus as the homework dragged on, his gaze started darting distractedly around the room and he noticed that every once in a while, Killian lifted his eyes from the pages he was reading to glance in his direction as if he was waiting for him to finish.

Henry took one of his earbuds out and tapped his pencil on the table. He smiled to himself and cleared his throat.

"Um, Hook?"

"Aye, Henry?" came his rather prompt response.

"I'm almost done with the homework. I was wondering if you could help me with it, maybe?"

Hook was already out of his armchair and ready to stride over to him, doing a poor job at hiding his excitement at being asked to help. At being asked to help him specifically, Henry realized with a sudden warm feeling.

"So," the pirate said, sitting down beside him at the kitchen table, "what sort of task do we have to resolve?"

"It's Geography," Henry said, pointing to the atlas. Hook's eyes lit up at the sight of it until he realized he was unfamiliar with most of the map, since he was not native to this world.

"Well, I suppose it's past time I learn more about this world's land and seas. What exactly do we have to do?"

"I have to fill in answers to these questions," Henry said, showing him the work sheet. "And memorize them for the test."

Killian examined the sheet with a concentrated look.

"Oh, we have to visit these places one day," he said quietly with a hint of old wanderlust.

"You wanna sail to the Caribbean?" Henry joked, doubtful that he would fully get the reference.

Killian searched the map with his eyes, until they landed on the mentioned sea.

"Sure. What's in the Caribbean?"

"I can't believe you haven't watched those movies yet. We have to fix that."

"If it's anything like that cursed drawing version of Peter Pan..."

"No," Henry laughed. "It’s life action. It's about pirates, has awesome music, great actors, iconic humor. You'll love it."

"If you say so," Killian shrugged. "But let’s get this done first, aye?"

"Ok. So... what is the highest peak of South America... that's this continent, by the way."

"Yeah, south of North America, I figured out that much, thank you," Hook responded defensively, a little offended.

"Right, sorry."

"I don't understand your technology, maps I get," he reminded him.

"Sorry," Henry smiled.

"Acon... Aconcagua? I think that's the one," Hook said pointing a finger to the tiny mountain symbol.

"Yeah, that's it," Henry nodded, trying to save its exact position in his memory. "Great. Now..."

Through their joint effort they finished the homework rather quickly. Finding specific places on the map turned out to be really fun when they turned it into a competition of who would find them quicker. Granted, Henry had an unfair advantage for already being familiar with most of it but Killian had a royal navy education and a long lifetime of experience up his own sleeve. Even when they were done with the assignment, Killian kept examining the map and they started talking about all the places they could visit in the summer. Henry realized that although he's been to Neverland, an alternate reality of the Enchanted Forest, Camelot and the Underworld, he has never been further than to New York when it came to his own world. The prospect of sailing to the Caribbean started to sound really appealing.

"We so have to watch the Pirates of the Caribbean!" Henry insisted. "You know what, I'll go find out which streaming service has it."

Killian, who was glad he knew what a streaming service was by now, just smiled and shrugged. "Alright then."

Henry collected his atlas and notes and rushed to the stairs before turning around. "Um, can you make some popcorn? It's not a proper movie night without snacks, you know."

"That's a rule in this household, I noticed."

"Yes. An important rule," Henry smirked.

"I'm on it," Hook nodded.

Henry ran up the stairs to get his mom's laptop, the password to which he has been granted access to. He was able to quickly find the first movie and signed up for a free trial he was sure to forget to cancel. When he descended the stairs to check on Hook, he found him chasing a grapefruit across the kitchen counter as it slipped from under his hook when he attempted to cut it.

"Um... Didn't I say popcorn?" he titled his head to a side.

"It's right there," Killian pointed to a steaming bowl of freshly microwaved popcorn. Next to it was another bowl full of curiously cut pieces of fruit.

"But I figured we could have some real food with it."

"Popcorn is real food," Henry protested. "It's made of corn. Corn is a vegetable. Conclusion: popcorn is a vegetable."

"I suppose you have a point," Killian laughed. "Popcorn gets a pass."

"But not pop tarts?" Henry crossed his arms.

"That awful prison food?" Killian frowned, completely serious.

"Why on Earth did I leave you in charge of snacks?" Henry wondered.

"Hey!"

"Anyway," he rolled his eyes and grabbed the bowl of the fragrant cheesy snack, "movie's ready."

Killian grabbed his unevenly chopped up fruit bowl and followed him.

"You know I'm not gonna get scurvy, right? It's not a common illness in this place and age," Henry nudged him with an elbow when they settled on the couch, the laptop positioned in front of them with the movie ready to play.

"I know, lad... I just, I've seen it. It's ugly," the pirate captain admitted solemnly.

Henry examined his face for a moment, while Hook just looked down with an apologetic smile. Henry couldn't help but wonder if he'd seen someone from his own crew succumb to the illness on the merciless seas. As annoying as it was, Hook's concern for his healthy diet came from a place of care. Didn't make it less annoying, though.

He cleared his throat and pressed play. "Okay. Movie time."

Killian was finally introduced to the character of Captain Jack Sparrow and as Henry expected, he found him quite likeable and amusing, even though he noted that if he had met him in real life, they might have ended up dueling each other. Now that was something Henry would pay to see.

When the movie was finished, they let the credits roll as Killian started recounting some of his own adventures from his early pirate days, long before he even set out on his quest for revenge on the Dark One.

At one point the story resulted in a duel against a captain of the royal navy, naturally. Killian was eager to show him exactly how it went down and decided a demonstration was necessary. He picked up some fireplace tools and got Henry to play the other guy.

"And then what?" Henry asked when his 'sword' was pointed at Hook's chest.

"Well, that's the twist. Then a giant kraken's tentacle rose up from the sea and snatched the unfortunate man right in front of me," he revealed.

"No way!" Henry shook his head incredulously.

"It's true! You should have seen the way the color drained from everyone's faces. The navy men started fleeing back to their ship, swinging over on ropes like frightened monkeys. We knew we had to run like hell. This creature could crush us into splinters. Luckily, the Jolly Roger is the fastest beauty on the seas."

"Oh, so you ran?"

"Excuse me, lad. I'd like to see you take your stand against a kraken! A captain knows when not to risk his crew's lives in vain. If I wanted to fight the infernal creature I could."

Henry laughed, lifting his free hand in surrender. A mischievous spark flashed in Hook's eyes and he struck out with his 'sword' at Henry in a way that allowed him to easily parry. The next blow was a bit more challenging, but Henry wasn't going to hold back either.

***

Emma didn't exactly have an expectation of what she would come home to at half past one in the morning, but her son battling Captain Hook in a ferocious duel with fireplace tools, jumping over the couch and nearly knocking everything over... was a surprise.

"I see you two are having a boy’s night of your own?" she chuckled, leaning against the door frame, crossing her arms.

When she spoke both of their heads turned to her with startled expressions that soon lit up.

"Mom!"

"You seem quite relaxed yourself, love," Killian smiled.

Henry sensed an opportunity and attempted to disarm his distracted opponent. But Hook never truly dropped his concentration and wasn't as overwhelmed as Henry needed him to be. With a skillful move and a grace of two hundred years of practice, Henry's weapon clattered to the floor instead.

"Now I could use a kraken," he sighed.

"Okay..." Emma furrowed her brow in amused confusion, "I'm going to bed. And you should too. You have school tomorrow, Henry."

"Yeah, I know," Henry sighed.

"Goodnight, mom," he said as he hugged her. He hesitated for a second before gathering the courage to turn to the pirate and reward him with a quick, sincere embrace too. "Goodnight, Killian."

The loving look in Hook's eyes, when he let him go and the corner of his mouth shot up in a tight half-smile, was something he knew he would treasure forever. He ran up the stairs before they finished bidding him goodnight too.

Yeah, he thought to himself, I guess I have a dad now.