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justanother-unluckysoul · 3 years ago

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CS Fic: “Trapped” 1/2

I live! Apologies for the absence. My muse went on holiday way back in August and it’s only been this week that I feel she’s finally coming back to me. Leaving me just a few days to get this fic that was originally supposed to be for Whumptober wrapped up in time for @cosette141′s birthday instead.

It is gratuitous whump and hurt/comfort with a tiny thread of plot that you really shouldn’t look too hard at. For context, this is set in some future time after the end of Once, and Killian has ventured beyond Storybrooke (who knows why? I sure don’t lol) where he has encountered some bad luck of course. Unedited and rushed a bit but hopefully not terrible? Just enjoy this for what it is and don’t ask any questions lol

Read On A03

Trapped

“Killian?” Her voice from the dark startled him, and he brought the phone back up to his ear with a shaking hand. He couldn’t remember when he’d lowered it.

“Emma?” Damn it, Killian couldn’t remember when he’d called her either. “I’m here.”

“Keep talking to me.”

“What do you want me to say, love?”

“Anything. Just… I need to know you’re still there.”

—

“Killian, can you hear me? Killian!”

“What is it, Swan?”

“Oh, thank god. You weren’t answering.”

“My apologies, love. It’s alright. I’m still here.”

“Okay. That’s good. It shouldn’t take them much longer, right?”

Who’s them? Killian felt like he should know the answer, but the memory escaped him, his head throbbing worse the more he reached for the missing knowledge.

“... No, not much longer. Just stay with me until then, Emma.”

“I will.”

—

“Emma?”

“Yes?”

“I think… I think something’s wrong..”

“What do you mean?”

“I… I’m not sure. I don’t feel right.”

“Just stay calm, okay? Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“I think I’ve forgotten something.”

“Like what?”

“If I remember, love, I’ll tell you.”

“...Of course. Just don’t worry about that right now, okay?”

—

“Killian, answer me!”

“Sorry, love… I must have drifted off for a moment there.”

“Well, don’t do that again. No more drifting, Killian, I need you here with me.”

It was difficult to stay there, to stop drifting away, with nothing to anchor him but the pain. He wished he could hold Emma’s hand.

“I’m cold.”

“I’m sorry. They’re working as fast as they can.”

“I want to go home.” Bloody hell. He hadn’t meant to say that. It was the plea of a frightened, wounded child for the comfort of familiarity. It had been a long, long time since Killian was a child.

He swallowed against the wave of emotion and dug his fingers into the soft dirt beneath him, the damp earth against his skin a pale replacement for the reassurance of feeling Emma’s hand in his, but it was the best he could manage for the moment.

“We’ll be home soon,” Emma said, and he could hear in her voice the same fear and pain as in his.

He had to find something to anchor himself or he’d slip away. He could feel it, the life draining out of him, his mind slowing down, each beat of his heart pounding in his head. He was already losing moments and it had only been Emma’s panicked shouts that pulled him back from the edge. He was so tired.

Killian didn’t want to worry her but he knew he didn’t have much longer.

“Emma?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“Don’t do that,” Emma snapped, “Don’t act like you’re going to die.”

“I’m…”

“You’re not going to die, Killian. I forbid it.”

He chuckled, wincing when the breath caught in his ribs. His jaw clenched, teeth gritted tight but a quiet groan broke free anyway.

He forced himself to breathe slowly, trying to sound normal when he responded, “Ah, the princess forbids it, does she?”

“She does.”

“I’m not saying goodbye, love.”

“It sounded like a goodbye. People always say they love you when they’re saying goodbye.”

“I just needed you to hear it, Emma.”

“There’ll be plenty of time to say how much you love me when this is over.”

He resigned himself to it. Of course Emma wouldn’t allow him to say goodbye. Bloody stubborn woman.

“Of course, love.”

She was quiet for a time.

“I love you too, Killian.”

“No goodbyes, remember?”

She laughed, but it sounded weak and watery, and Killian pictured there to be tears in her eyes as she held the communication device to her lips. It brought tears to his own eyes.

“Shut up,” Emma said, “It’s not a goodbye. I just had to say it back.”

“I know.”

His head had really started to hurt now, like it was being squeezed in a vice, but through the pain Killian finally remembered what he’d been forgetting.

“There was… there was someone else,” he whispered. “Someone else? Where?”

“She was here, I think. I don’t know, I can’t s-see… Gods, my head...”

—

“Killian, can you hear me?”

He was sinking. His own body was an anchor now, pulling him into the depths of the ocean, down into the dark and the cold.

“Killian!”

But no, he can’t be underwater because he could still breathe, albeit with difficulty. And there was… there was someone holding his hand.

“Emma?” His voice was a weak and broken thing. It stole the little breath he had in his lungs and he couldn’t seem to get enough of it back.

“Yes, I’m here,” she said, “Stay with me, okay?”

His chest hurt. No, more than simply hurt; trying to draw breath was agony. He didn’t have the strength to open his eyes, too occupied with the previously simple task of breathing. Perhaps he was underwater after all.

The world beyond him and Emma was hazy. He was distantly aware there were other people around them; other voices, other sounds. Light and shadow that didn’t match where Killian thought he was. But he couldn’t expand his awareness further than the pain in his chest and his head and Emma’s hand squeezing his. He wondered, for a moment, if someone had reached into his chest and was crushing his heart, and although the pain now wasn’t quite the same, the memory was enough to make him panic. Make him forget where he was, who he was with, make him pull away from Emma’s hand and choke on what little air he had, his entire body lighting up with pain.

“No, no, Killian, don’t move,” Emma’s voice reached him through it, her hands on his shoulders, coaxing him to stay down with a gentle pressure, “You’re safe, I promise. Lie still. Focus on your breathing, okay?”

The problem with focusing on his breathing was that it only made him aware of how difficult breathing was. There was something over his face now, and his eyes opened again to find the room had changed between blinks, that the lights were harsher and brighter and Emma was gone.

“Emma,” he whispered. Gods, he had no strength left. At least the pain had eased a little now.

“Just relax for us, sir.”

A stranger’s voice. He felt a brief flash of panic, not enough to rouse his tired muscles into motion, before he slipped once more into darkness.

—-

To begin with, Killian wasn’t even certain he was awake or trapped in some horrid nightmare. Everything was so white. And he felt so weak he could barely move. There was something in his mouth and down his throat that was choking him while a cacophony of noise assaulted him, and to top it all off, when he tried to lift his hand to remove whatever was preventing him from breathing properly, someone bloody restrained him.

He could tell there was a voice speaking among all the noise, but he couldn’t make out what was being said.

They didn’t want him to fight but that was all Killian wanted to do, instinct taking over reason. His mind was all pain and panic, he couldn’t breathe and they didn’t understand, he couldn’t-

The thing in his throat was gone when Killian found his senses again, exhausted and hurting in too many places to list. There were still strange little tubes and wires stuck all over him, but he knew better than to try removing any of those.

Movement by his bedside caught his eye and he turned his head, slow and with a wince because his head was on that list of hurt parts. Emma. Her eyes widened as they met his and she stood up from the chair, her hands hovering over him like she was afraid to touch him, afraid of hurting him.

“Easy, easy,” she soothed, “Just breathe slowly, stay relaxed, okay?”

He was not relaxing at all. He wanted to hold her, to reassure himself that she was okay. That she hadn’t been hurt like he had.

“Em-” He broke off into coughing, each one sending blinding pain across his chest until he was almost doubled over in the bed, arms wrapped around his torso as he struggled to suppress the coughs.

“Here, this will help,” Emma said, bringing an ice chip to his mouth.

She was right, it did help, cold and wet and easing his body’s urgent need for coughing. He leaned back against the pillow, taking careful, shallow breaths so he wouldn’t set it off again.

“Do you remember what happened?”

It came back to him in pieces - the distant rumble before the ground began to shake, the way he’d locked eyes with the child, lunging for her, taking her in his arms just as the floor swallowed them both…

“Just pieces,” he rasped. The ice chip, though it provided relief from the coughing fit, had failed to fully soothe the rawness of his throat. “There was… an earthquake? I remember a child… I was trying to protect her. Is she…?”

Emma’s smile was watery as she fed him another ice chip.

“Yes, that’s right. You did protect her. When the floor gave way, it looked like you took the brunt of the fall and then rolled over to shield her from debris. She actually managed to climb out of the rubble herself before you woke up, and she told the search team where you were. She just had some minor cuts and bruises, but you…”

She took a steadying breath as she thought of the traumatic event and Killian reached for her hand, squeezing it gently to reassure her.

“I’ll be alright, love.”

“I know.”

Emma looked down at their joined hands.

“Killian, you had a collapsed lung, some broken ribs, a pretty bad concussion. It wasn’t… it wasn’t good. You’ve been sleeping for a few days.”

“I’m sorry to scare you, Emma.”

“I’m checking you out of here tomorrow,” she said. “I can heal you and then we can go home. Of course they wouldn’t let me take you anywhere until you were stable, but I’m so sorry you had to go through all that. You know, being intubated and stuff.”

“It’s alright, love, you know that’s not your fault.”

“Damn muggles.”

He had no bloody idea what she was talking about.

“Aye, pesky things, those… muggles.”

Emma smiled in a way that told him she knew he didn’t understand the reference, despite his effort to follow the conversation.

“Harry Potter,” she prompted.

“Ah. Of course.” His memory was still a little fuzzy, it seemed, because now he did remember Henry talking of such things from his books about wizards and warty hogs.

—-

“Are you up to some visitors?” the nurse asked.

“Visitors?” Emma repeated, “Who is it?”

She was being unnecessarily suspicious, Killian thought; they had no enemies in the lands beyond Storybrooke.

“A young woman and a child. She said you saved her sister during the earthquake?”

“Of course, let them in,” Killian said.

The child led her sister in quite eagerly by the hand and came to a stop at the foot of Killian’s bed.

“Are you feeling better, Mr Jones?” she asked without preamble.

“Aye, much better, thank you. But I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember your name.”

“I’m Lilo. You really don’t remember me?”

“Well, not exactly. I hit my head when we fell, you see, so my memories are still a bit confused. I can only remember some of the events from that day.”

“I understand,” Lilo said very seriously. “I’m glad you’re feeling better though.” She seemed to suddenly remember she’d dragged her sister in with her. “Oh, this is my sister Nani.”

“Killian Jones. This is my wife, Emma.”

“Lovely to meet you both,” Nani said. “You’re a hero, Mr Jones.”

He chuckled awkwardly.

“Hardly.”

“I mean it. You saved my sister’s life. And very nearly at the cost of your own, she tells me.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was that bad,” Emma interjected.

There was a poignant silence for a moment.

“Well, we’ll let you get some rest. Thank you, again.”

“Get well soon, Mr Jones,” Lilo said with a wave as they exited the room.

Part 2 coming soon-ish, because my muse has further ideas for this but I ran out of time to complete it within the deadline!

#cs ff #whump #hurt/comfort #captain swan #my fics

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justanother-unluckysoul · 3 years ago

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Don't Let Go (Because I Can't Hold it Back Anymore) | OUAT fanfic

Because I apparently never put this fic on tumblr

Fandom: Once Upon A Time Pairing: Captain Swan Author: cosette141 Words: 26k Summary: (canon divergence for s4 episode "White Out") Rather than Emma and Elsa trapped in the ice cave, Emma is trapped with Killian. They have to keep warm and stay awake as they fight the frigid cold, or their first quiet moment together may very well be their last. h/c CS (CSSS 2021 gift for jrob64!)

AO3

Chapter One

Killian followed the ice wall, thankful that his heavycoat was keeping out most of the chill of the night.

After receiving Emma's… what do they call it? Talking call? He'd done as she asked, scoping out the mysterious wall that erected overnight. It was far too high and too icy to climb over, and the cold alone was enough to keep Killian from standing too close to it as he walked its length toward the town line where Emma said she and her father would be waiting.

He heard them before he saw them, and he couldn't help the little tilt of his lips when he heard the sound of her voice.

Stepping out from the trees, Killian saw her standing with her father, both of whom were regarding the ice wall.

"In case you were wondering," said Killian, gaining their attention, "it goes the whole way around."

Both of them looked over as he stepped out from the forest, a comfortable, perhaps slightly smug, smile on his face. He saw something flicker in Emma's eyes when she saw him, and he liked to think it was some brief contentment in his company.

Yet, the look on David's face was anything but.

It seemed like Killian had managed to do something to irritate the prince before even having arrived.

"Hook," said David, and Killian heard that irritation color his words thickly. "I didn't know you would be joining us."

Truthfully, Killian himself was less than pleased when Emma told him to meet her and her father, so he understood the feeling.

Because Killian had built quite the residence on David's nerves, he allowed his smugness to grow. "I get a distressed call from a fair maiden," he said with a flick of his eyes to Emma, seeing her brow raise in an unimpressed look the way he knew it would, "and I'm on the spot."

"I was not distressed," said Emma with a slight roll of her eyes. "And you're saying, what, this wall goes around the whole town?"

"That it does."

"So, once again," said David, "we can't leave Storybrooke."

"Doing more than keeping us inside, by the looks of it," said Killian, eyeing the wall distrustfully. It didn't look as if it were made from do-gooding fairies or any of the snuggly sort. Killian's gaze followed the ice and snow until he saw the large, crumpled metal structure lying in a heap on the ground, surrounded by tangled coils of black cords and broken glass. From what he's gleaned from this town, he's seen them spark what Emma coined electricity. "I guess that's what caused the loss of power?" He asked, looking to Emma for confirmation.

If he wasn't mistaken, her brows rose with surprise. "When did you become a twenty-first century man?" Killian did his best not to let onto the fact that impressing her pleased him. "Yeah," Emma went on. "It looks to me like whoever was putting up the wall wasn't trying to take out the lights, they were just… putting up the wall." That smile of hers faded, once again her attention taken by the endless strings of danger that seemed to follow her.

Her father's gaze followed hers. "To keep us in," he agreed. "Why?"

"Kill us all, one by one." Killian smiled goodnaturedly, even when both of them gave him looks. He shrugged. "It's what I'd do."

What I used to do.

For he wasn't that man anymore.

And the woman not a yard away from him was why.

Some garbled voice laced with static sounded from the driving vessel, and David turned back to go check it.

Perfect.

Killian stepped into the space David had once stood in, finding himself next to Emma. The indescribable urge to touch her, to kiss her welled in his entire being, but he attempted to keep it at bay.

Only days ago, they'd gotten back from their trip to the past.

Only days ago, he'd finally given up his secret to Emma—how he got to her. Trading his ship–his beloved ship–for the magic bean that would take him back to her realm.

And only days ago, Emma had kissed him.

Given into what Killian could only hope—only dream—she'd been fighting for as long as he had.

It was the second time they kissed, yet it was nothing like the first.

The first was desperate and fueled by passion and doomed to be what Emma had firmly said: a one-time thing.

But the second…

She'd proven herself wrong, and she'd kissed him again. Made the choice herself, for Killian knew by now, Emma was equal to that of a frightened animal when it came to anything emotional. He had to let her lead this all the way through. He was a patient man. And more than that…

She was worth it.

That recent kiss…

Killian could still taste her.

It was something soft and sweet and so unlike the persona that Emma puts out, this armor she wears. For as tough as she likes to be perceived, Emma is one of the most innocent souls he's ever met, and also one of the most damaged. And how anyone could damage someone as pure as Emma…

One day, he might ask her for some names, and decide to teach a few people a very painful lesson.

But the other day, their moment wasn't rushed.

It wasn't desperate.

She'd kissed him, and he'd felt himself melt.

Everything he's waited for.

All that time, after all of her attempts to push him away, he'd truly wondered if he was chasing after someone who simply would never want him in return.

She'd disappeared after they'd gotten back from the past, and he'd thought perhaps he misread it all. Even the moments trapped in the past… he could still feel her against his chest, could still feel her crumble into his embrace in a way that suggested she trusted him, in a way he might have fooled himself into thinking she needed him, even for just a moment.

He'd sat outside the diner that night while she and her family celebrated the baby, alone with his thoughts and rum, facing the terrifying thought of what if she doesn't want him? What the bloody hell was he to do then? He'd never call the time he spent chasing her, the things he'd done for her, the times he'd saved her as wasted time. To him, it was a dream, a gift, a privilege that he played any part in her life.

But the idea that she could want him back, that he could have her without having to chase her, without having to fight her walls every step of the way…

It was something he wanted so badly it hurt.

But that night, when that diner door opened, when she'd come outside with a gaze that was looking specifically for him….

His hope had flared, a dying firelight flickering in a windstorm.

"How did you do it? How did you get to me?"

He'd never intended to tell her.

The idea of telling her felt as vulnerably naked as when he'd been forced to reveal the depth of his feelings for her in the Echo Cave. When he knew that even if she'd felt an attraction for him, even if she felt something, it was too soon. No matter what feelings she might have had, she'd fight it to the bloody death before admitting it, especially to herself.

And this, this secret, how he'd gotten to her… it felt just as… revealing, if not so much more.

He'd, more than once, told her how much his ship meant to him.

His ship, for so many years, had been his one and only love, and ever since he and Liam had commandeered the Jewel and since she'd become the Jolly, had been his home.

Until…

Killian took a moment to look at Emma, even when her attention was drawn to the ice wall.

Home was no longer a place to him.

He felt something tug at his lips, looking at the only home he'll ever need for the rest of his days.

He'd been so afraid to tell her such a thing—for he already knew with a painful certainty that he was in love with this woman, far deeper even than Milah, which he once would have never, ever believed could be possible, and only recently admitted to himself—and it almost felt as if telling Emma how he managed to get to her realm was saying those three words all the same.

And after all the times she's pushed him away…

"How about you try cursing the lips of someone I'll actually kiss."

He knew she had been scared.

He knew that Emma knew admitting to Zelena that she felt anything for him was a dangerous move.

And Killian knew Emma didn't mean it.

But it didn't mean it didn't hurt.

And it also didn't mean it didn't make him worry that there was truth in those words.

If he told her what happened to his ship…

If he told her what he gave up for her…

If he told her before she was ready to accept her own feelings for him, if he told her before she even had any…

He was terrified it would scare her away for good.

He was bloody terrified that a rejection from her at this point would be a break his weathered heart finally couldn't take.

But that night outside the diner, that look in her eyes…

Something had changed, after they'd gone back in time.

He'd felt it, he knew it was finally mutual, and that look in her eyes as she waited for his response…

She was ready.

He could see it.

He could feel it.

She might still be as hesitant as a fawn alone in the woods, but…

She wanted it.

And that kiss…

Her choice…

That night was proof that his doubts were wrong.

It was proof that she did want him.

And what he felt from her in that glorious moment, a moment that he re-lived from the moment she'd left him that night to every moment since…

He finally had the answer to the terrifying question he's had since Neverland.

She wanted him.

He knew she did.

But right here, standing next to her amidst the newest town dilemma, he could see it in her face.

Her walls were as solid and imposing as the ice wall in question.

And now that he knew she wanted it, knew that she was only scared…

He was determined to take those walls down completely.

Unravel her, and heal as much of the damage that had been done to her in her life.

"Be patient."

He was a patient man.

But he had a feeling that Emma would only keep running if someone wasn't there to stop her.

"I ran. It's just what I did."

He'd follow her anywhere, but he was ready to not have to chase her.

So, gently, Killian took a breath, and attempted to try to hack at her walls, and reveal the Emma he knew and loved inside.

He treaded carefully, saying lightly, "Oh! I should have brought the champagne."

His abrupt change in subject grabbed her attention, and she looked at him like he was mental. "What?"

"To celebrate our second date," he said smoothly. "And… because we've got the world's largest ice bucket," he added, gesturing to the wall.

"Second date?" she asked, and he felt himself smile wider because she was playing along. "Did I miss the first?"

"Aye," he said. "Snow monster's the first, ice wall's the second." And treading even more carefully, yet rising to those imposing walls of hers, he said, "After all, if I only count the quiet dinners, we wouldn't even get one."

It was a push, he knew it, but he had quite the idea that Emma wasn't planning on making any move herself. It was a slightly firmer push than the more gentle ones he's made since that glorious moment, allowing her to avoid him, allowing her to take her own time.

But Killian knew it was only her fear, those damn walls keeping her from truly being with him.

A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.

He was ready to fight those walls of hers with everything he had, one scratch a time.

Killian watched her carefully as she looked away from him, shifting her stance like she was unsure, but then in pure Emma-fashion, her eyes caught hold of a distraction. And just like that, he and his attempts were forgotten with her whisper of, "Hang on, I think I see something behind the wall."

Killian let out a breath, hanging his head a little in defeat.

"Wait here with the ice bucket while I check that out," murmured Emma, still not looking at him, her full attention drawn to the supposed danger.

Emma started toward the wall, and Killian tried to think of another way to approach the subject in a way that wouldn't scare her off when David returned, stopping to stand beside him. "I think it's time you and I have a little chat about your intentions with my daughter."

Killian's brow rose. The tone of his voice suggested this was a long-time coming. Though at least now he understood the irritation from earlier.

Not exactly in the mood, because it seemed it would be years before anything even remotely happened with his daughter, Killian couldn't exactly hide the edge to his voice. "That's a little old fashioned, even by my standards," he muttered. "And I still pay with doubloons."

David swung the flashlight beam around, as if his full attention wasn't on his attempt to intimidate Killian, which was quite impossible. "Remember," said David, "I know your reputation. Emma's not some conquest."

Killian's brow hitched even higher at that, because did he honestly think that's what this was about? David has seen the amount of times Killian has risked his life for Emma, from Neverland to the Wicked Witch, to their trip to the past, where David had physically witnessed the lengths Killian would go for her. Killian would not have given up his revenge and traded his damn ship simply for a good time with a beautiful woman.

Feeling his own frustrated heat, he said firmly, "I wouldn't risk my life for someone I see as loot." David said nothing, and Killian went on, just as firmly, "Whatever we become, it's up to her as much as me." Killian kept his gaze firmly on David until the prince finally turned to look him in the face. Killian held his gaze, and when the prince was still silent, lifted his brow as if to dare David to contest the truth in his words.

David held his gaze, looking the slightest bit surprised at the amount of emotion in Killian's eyes. Perhaps David was only trying to make up for lost time as a father, perhaps it was just his way of trying to protect her when she was already all grown up, but the insinuation that Killian would use Emma was something that disgusted him. And after all this time, for David to even suggest it…

Hadn't he done enough to prove the lengths to which he'd go for Emma?

It seemed, unfortunately, that it was a constant battle to prove himself to both Emma and her family, no matter what he did.

David gave a little nod, but there was still a question in his eyes. Small, faint, but there.

Pirate.

Killian let out a breath.

He'd just have to prove himself.

Again.

But if he was being honest with himself, the life he led and the man they had met so long ago certainly warranted such distrust.

But he was really, really ready to be free of that curse.

Whether he brought it on himself or not.

"Oh–"

Both Killian and David looked over at the sound of Emma's quiet, startled voice.

They could faintly make out the conversation she seemed to have with someone else as both men rushed toward the wall. Was someone trapped in it?

"My sister. I need to find her."

It was another woman's voice.

And with it, a flurry of snow began to fly around the wall.

Killian exchanged a look with David as they ran.

Killian covered his face as the snow picked up with speed and power, making it hard to see and the temperature drop even lower. But Killian could see blond hair fly just beyond the few icy stalagmites Emma had climbed through.

Sudden fear seized Killian's chest, realizing that whomever Emma was speaking to must have created this wall, for they were also creating the sudden snowstorm.

Emma.

Killian exchanged another fearful glance with the prince who seemed to put two and two together just as he did, and David deftly drew his projectile weapon, aiming it toward the figure of the unfamiliar woman.

Emma was still beside her, and Killian could see her now, the fear in her eyes, hair flying wildly, but her hands were out toward himself and her father in a placating gesture. "No," said Emma quickly. "No, it's okay, you don't have to—"

The figure of the woman backed away even as the storm picked up around them, as if the magical ice witch was completely unaffected by the buffeting wind that made Emma, Killian and her father cover their faces from the icy wind.

But it was when the ground shook, the distinct sound of a crash and Emma's scream that Killian's eyes snapped open, panic like a dagger to his chest.

Something struck her, and she fell to the ground.

"Emma!" cried both Killian and David.

Killian watched in horror as ice fell from the wall, cascading down—

Emma.

It was going to crush her.

Killian ran before he could think.

He dove through the structure, hearing the prince's yell behind him but he didn't stop.

He reached Emma, covering her body with his just as the ice struck them both.

-.-.-.

#❤️❤️❤️#fic rec #captain swan #cs ff #hurt/comfort #angst #whump #hypothermia

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justanother-unluckysoul · 3 years ago

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No, I didn’t forget about those WIPs, time just moves differently for me. For you, it’s been years; for me, it’s just been a few seconds, maybe a minute

#lol it's true #sorry everyone waiting for new chapters 😅

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justanother-unluckysoul · 3 years ago

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235 Days of Killian Jones: Day 54

#killian jones

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justanother-unluckysoul · 3 years ago

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This is amazing 😍

Dreamshade (OUAT fanfic) | Chapter 5 - by @cosette141

Summary: (s3A, “Good Form” canon divergence) Instead of David getting hit with the poisoned arrow, it’s Hook. Now it’s up to David to get Hook to Dead Man’s Peak before Dreamshade takes Hook’s life, and maybe learn, perhaps too late, that Hook is far more than just a pirate. h/c Captain Charming

AO3

There it is!! After a lot of work, and not so much free time sometimes, it’s done!!

So umh yeaaaaaaaaaah I might had a heavy hand on the dreamshade hahaha so #SorryNotSorry but for killian!whump sake, it was done lol

#captain charming #killian jones #david nolan #killian!whump #ouat fanart #whump

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justanother-unluckysoul · 3 years ago

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Done for the day!!

They are swoon-worthy!

#love this #captain swan #cs fanart

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justanother-unluckysoul · 3 years ago

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captain killian "hook" jones + text posts 2/?

#killian jones #humor

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justanother-unluckysoul · 3 years ago

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have a gift for you right here in the trunk of my car...

The perfect gift! Thank you 😘

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justanother-unluckysoul · 3 years ago

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Happy birthday! 🥳 Hope you have a wonderful day! 🍀

Thank you 😊❤️

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justanother-unluckysoul · 3 years ago

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You are the absolute best for gifting me whumped and tied up Killian for my birthday, thank you so much! 😍😍😍

Untied | OUAT fanfic

Fandom: Once Upon A Time Words: 3k+ Summary: (s2 divergence) Emma felt the hair on the back of her neck rise with instinct. The darkness of the night didn't help with the ominous feeling. This trailer wasn't here before Tamara showed up to town, and it was a small town. It wasn't from here. Emma picked the padlock, pulled it off, and yanked open the door. And there, tied to a chair, was Hook. CS h/c

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @justanother-unluckysoul !!!!! Here's your (unfinished..) gift!!!

AO3

(under the cut!)

Emma felt the hair on the back of her neck rise with instinct. The darkness of the night didn't help with the ominous feeling.

The trailer wasn't here before Tamara showed up to town, and it was a small town. It wasn't from here.

Emma's flashlight beam caught it, glinting off the metal. Lapping waves of the ocean were the only sound in the air. The moonlight was bright, illuminating the area well enough without the flashlight now that she was close.

She walked around the trailer, gun out in front of her, but no one was around. She relaxed a bit.

There was a single padlock on the door, and Emma grabbed the lock picks from her back pocket, getting to work on it.

Once it clicked, she pulled it off, and yanked open the door.

And there, tied to a chair, was Hook.

Emma felt her jaw drop.

Hook winced away the moment the door opened, but at the sight of her, his eyes widened identically.

Hook was tied tightly to the chair, not one limb free. His hook was missing and there was a gag tight in his mouth. Blackening bruises stood out on his face, in a pattern that could have only come from a fist.

"Hook?" breathed Emma.

He made a muffled sound, jerking in the chair, shutting his eyes when his attempts were unsuccessful.

Emma rushed forward, shaking fingers working to untie the gag around his mouth. Once she freed him from it, he breathed hard. "Bloody hell," he croaked. "What the—" began Emma, still in shock. "Who did this to you?"

"Woman… Tamara," said Hook raggedly.

Tamara.

She knew it.

The only question was why—

But she'll answer that later.

"How long have you been here?" asked Emma, feeling the slightest bit of concern inch into her words, seeing just how tired he looked.

"Not sure," whispered Hook. "Two days?"

By the look of him, that sounded about right. Tamara got to Storybrooke almost three days ago. Hook was pale, exhausted and sounded like he'd barely had any water.

Emma moved to untie him, but paused, then said, "I want to help you. But…"

The last time she'd seen him was days ago, after she'd locked him in the closet of Neal's building.

"I will not be a danger to you, Swan," he managed tiredly, and he certainly sounded like he wouldn't be able to manage the energy to even be an irritation, let alone danger. "Won't knock you out and lock you in a tiny room, if that's what you're asking," he added, a slight edge to his voice.

Scratch that. He does have the energy to irritate her.

"You want to argue or you want to call a truce?" said Emma impatiently.

Hook blinked tiredly. Then, "Truce."

She got to work untying his legs. "Why the hell did she do this to you?" she asked, freeing his left ankle.

"She wants my assistance," he said, voice just barely slurring with exhaustion, "in exchange for helping me kill the Crocodile. Whom you just had to save." There was the edge again. But it sounded more hurt than anything. "You realize he's a bloody demon," he muttered. "You know how hard it will be to get another chance?"

"What happened to our truce?" muttered Emma, trying not to feel guilty for something she hadn't been happy doing. Saving Gold was not enjoyable and watching Mary Maragaret tear herself apart for her part in it wasn't either.

"My apologies," he said half-heartedly. "Aye, we settled on a truce."

As she freed his right ankle, Emma huffed, "To be honest, I didn't want to save him."

"No?"

Emma could tell Hook wasn't completely in his right mind, almost drunk with exhaustion and perhaps a concussion.

"No," agreed Emma, moving to his left forearm. "But we'll talk about it later. Do you know if she's coming back?"

"Not until dawn." said Hook softly.

Emma felt herself relax a little. She finished untying him in silence. Even when he was free, he didn't get up.

"Hook?" asked Emma hesitantly.

"Mm?" he mumbled, eyes blinking open.

"Can you stand?" she asked.

Hook blinked again, delayed giving her a nod. Then he went to stand, grimacing as he moved. He made it to his feet, but stumbled with weakness the moment he did. Emma was inches away and caught him with surprise.

"Bloody—" he gasped, trying to right himself. Emma had grabbed him by the arm, but it wasn't enough. She quickly moved closer, grabbing him around the back as he leaned his weight into her. It was his silence that told Emma he was serious; he didn't make one comment about having her so close to him.

Now worried more about his condition, Emma helped him walk, saying, "My car isn't far."

"Car?" he echoed, stiffly walking.

"Transportation; vessel; boat that moves on land. Carriage without horses. The thing that hit you the other day," Emma deadpanned.

He tensed a little, and Emma was surprised to feel his sudden fear at the thought. She wouldn't have thought Captain Hook was afraid of anything.

By the time they made it to the bug, Hook was leaning heavily on her and panting. Emma leaned him against the car to open the passenger door. "Get in."

He opened his eyes tiredly to look at it warily.

Emma sighed aloud and took his arm gently, guiding him into the seat. Thankfully he was too weak to protest and only groaned a little when he was inside and she shut the door.

Emma got into her driver's seat and started the car, the sound of the engine making Hook jump.

But soon she was driving to the loft and along the way, his eyes shut and didn't open again.

She spent most of the drive wondering how the hell she was supposed to explain bringing home a pirate to her parents.

-.-.-.

"Hook."

Hook felt a groan escape him, someone shaking him lightly. The bloody non-magical witch from New York City was one he'd far underestimated, for she's broken several of his bones and given him the likes of a concussion. She'd found him in the small room, tied by someone he could only guess was Emma. The Tamara woman had used something, some small black box that hurt like the bloody devil to knock him out again, and kept him in this metal cell on wheels like a bloody pet.

Needless to say, he went from being thrown back onto the revenge track he should have finally done away with, to adding her to the list.

But with all the time to think in that dark metal contraption, he was becoming more and more sure that he was growing very tired of chasing revenge.

"Hook."

This shake was harder, and his teeth snapped together to bite down a harsher groan, broken bones grinding against each other, but it was finally enough to convince his eyes to open.

He went rigid, only lighting up the pain and the strained muscles more, expecting to see Tamara, but instead, he was in a different metal contraption, this one smaller, and with windows. It was dark outside them, and Hook blinked a few times, trying to make out the surroundings.

"Finally," huffed a tired-sounding, familiar voice to his left.

Hook flinched at her voice, clearly a few steps behind thanks to the concussion, and he snapped his head around to see Emma Swan sitting beside him, looking at him with something between exasperation and concern. Her hand had still been on his shoulder, but at his flinch, she swallowed hard, removing her hand, suddenly looking unsure.

"Swan?" he rasped, shutting his eyes as the fast movement made his head swim.

"Yeah," she said just as quietly.

"Where am I?" he managed to mutter, too tired for any wordplay, or even expressing his fury with her for preventing his best chance of killing the Crocodile.

"In my car," she said. At his confusion, his furrowed brows at the unfamiliar word, she said, "Vessel. Transportation—do I really have to go through this again?"

"Ah," he whispered, but his muscles were still taut, still unsure. He had no idea where they stood at the moment, and he didn't have the energy to run or fight if she were planning to incarcerate him or something of the sort.

And he sighed, suddenly wondering if he cared anymore.

He was so bloody tired, from more than just his captivity and the concussion.

"Hey," came her voice again, making him open his eyes again. "Don't pass out again. I need to get you upstairs and I can't carry you."

More confusion hitched his brow. He looked at her. "You need to what?"

"Tamara is going to find out you're missing soon," said Emma seriously. "I will hide you, but you're gonna have to help me. So, don't pass out," she repeated. She opened her door, but none of her words made sense.

"You're going to what?" repeated Hook, a little more lucidity in his voice, and she paused, looking back at him. "Why are you helping me?" he asked weakly.

Emma hesitated, biting her lip like she wasn't quite clear on that herself. "Just don't pass out and don't make me regret it." With that, she got out of the vessel, and shut her door.

Seconds later, Hook felt the wall he'd been half-resting on move, and he nearly fell. He heard a "Damn—" from Emma, and her hands caught him, steadying him as he grimaced at her touch—he'd forgotten just how much he'd been thrown around by the Tamara woman until Emma's fingers woke the pain.

"Hook?"

He blinked his eyes open, realizing that she was still half-holding him, keeping him from falling. And it was only then he realized how out of it he'd been seconds ago.

"There's a step," she said, brows creased. "Can you get out?"

She was speaking to him like he was a bloody invalid.

Yet the fact that she was the first person to show him care in over two hundred years numbed the sting to his pride.

He answered with movement, shifting to get his boot on the ground, managing to get out of the metal contraption with Emma's help. He was more than unsteady on his feet—no doubt the thirst and hunger warping his balance just as much as the concussion—but he managed to shut his eyes and will himself to stay upright. He hissed a little as broken bones shifted.

At her whisper of his name—his moniker, really, he doubted she remembered he had a name—Hook's eyes opened, and he found her very close. Her arm was wrapped around his back tightly as he swayed, her face inches from his, looking at him worriedly.

It made him pause, surprised to see that much worry from her.

But he chalked it up to the damn hero types, and gestured a weak nod forward, and they began to walk.

Hook let her lead, as it was far too hard to think, let alone keep his eyes open. Her arm only tightened around him as he stumbled nearly every step.

-.-.-.

Emma was out of breath by the time they got to the door to the loft.

Her arm was burning from the effort of holding up more than half of Hook's weight. By this point he was listing badly into her with each step, and they barely managed the staircase as it was.

"Still with me?" asked Emma with a grimace, shifting him to knock on the door incessantly and please let David still be at the station…

"Aye," came his hollow reply, his voice so weak. Emma had never thought Hook's voice could sound so… so…

Human.

Swallowing down the rush of uncomfortable emotions, Emma waited until the door opened.

"Emma," began Mary Margaret. "You're home la—" But she froze, seeing Hook practically clinging onto Emma's frame. "What on earth—?" she began in shock.

"I'll explain in a second," said Emma quickly, "but I need you to help me. He's heavy."

Hook grunted in weak annoyance, almost petulantly, at her choice of words, and it made Mary Margaret flinch a little, seeming to have thought he was nearly unconscious. But after a moment of hesitation, she acquiesced, taking Hook's other side. Wariness slid through her eyes, but before she could snap out of her hesitation, Hook muttered tiredly, "In no condition to attack you, milady."

Mary Margaret winced a little at her obviousness, but took his other side. She and Emma walked him to the couch, slowly easing him to lie down. Hook's face screwed up as he did, his hand flying to his abdomen, a low groan slipping through his teeth.

"Is Henry home?" asked Emma, suddenly worried she'd have a lot of explaining to do.

"No, he's not," she said, staring at Emma like she was crazy. "Emma, what—?"

Okay… a lot more explaining to do.

"I found him tied up in a van on the outskirts of town," she said. "Tamara was keeping him captive."

Mary Margaret's jaw dropped. "Tamara?" she echoed incredulously. "You're—you're sure?"

"Bloody positive," muttered Hook tiredly, and they both turned to see his eyes half-open, like he was barely following their conversation.

"Emma…" began Mary Margaret, a touch of guilt in her voice.

Emma didn't exactly have time for an I told you so speech, and also didn't have time to be annoyed that she and David didn't believe her in the first place.

"Later," she said, looking back at Hook. "She'll know he's missing in a few hours. We'll have to hide him here. Whatever she's planning can't be good."

"Something to do with Regina," said Hook, voice slurred with exhaustion.

Emma felt herself sinking to the edge of the coffee table next to him. "We'll figure it out," she said, voice coming out strangely gentle. "Get some rest."

His eyes lingered on hers for a long moment, like he found that quality in her voice to be surprising too.

But not a moment later, he listened, slipping into unconsciousness.

-.-.-.

"…Hook?"

Emma bit her lip. The pirate was unconscious, again. Only this time it was on her couch.

And damn it, was it strange to see the leather-clad pirate passed out in her freaking house.

"Emma," came Mary Margaret's whisper.

Emma took a breath, then got up from the coffee table, and met Mary Margaret a few yards away.

"What on earth are you thinking?" asked Mary Margaret, brows shooting up. "You bring Hook here?!"

"I… he's hurt, and… and whatever Tamara's using him for can't be good. He's more useful in our hands than hers."

In all honesty, she hadn't been thinking about strategy. She hadn't thought much at all since opening that trailer and finding him tied up in the back.

All she saw was someone hurting, and suddenly she was guiding him to her car and helping him onto her couch.

But the mention of Tamara made Mary Margaret fall silent with a guilt that ran through her eyes. She swallowed hard, seeming to force the words. "I'm sorry."

The apology didn't quite work when it was Mary Margaret's faith Emma had wanted. But like every other emotional issue, Emma forced her own smile, saying, "It's fine." Mary Margaret didn't seem quite convinced of that, so Emma sighed shortly. "Just… next time, listen to me?"

Mary Margaret's eyes widened a little at Emma's echoing of her own words from the Enchanted Forest, after Mary Margaret saved Emma from the ogre.

"This," said Emma, gesturing vaguely, "this… finding bad guys, pegging liars and stuff… that's my world."

Mary Margaret's lips pressed together. "You're right," she whispered. "I should have believed you."

"I'm gonna ask you to have a little more faith in me," said Emma, looking toward the couch.

Mary Margaret bit her lip, looking from Hook to Emma. She sighed again. "Okay. I'll follow your lead."

Emma felt a little relief in her chest.

Emma's eyes found Hook again. It was weird seeing him sleep, seeing the features of his face so calm.

Ever since she found him tonight, she could see Hook's eyes so much clearer—Tamara's rough handling of him had left a few of his own walls crumbled and broken—and as much as there was anger and contempt and bitterness…

There was an exhaustion that Tamara didn't cause.

The look in his eyes was of someone defeated.

Someone hopeless.

Someone alone, and who knew it.

Emma let out a breath.

She'd hide him until he recovered.

Because it was the right thing to do.

Because she was a hero type, as he coined her.

But as she headed to the bathroom for rags and a first aid kit, she knew the real reason.

Because she knew exactly what that felt like.

-.-.-.-.

a/n: hope to finish this one day! :)

tag list: @kmomof4 @klynn-stormz @stahlop @ilovemesomekillianjones @hookmecaptain @tiganasummertree @jadehowlettthewolf @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @pirateprincessofpizza @stahlop @snowbellewells @eddisfargo @motherkatereloyshipper @killian-whump

#reblogging to read later #captain swan #cs ff #hurt/comfort #whump #a gift!

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