mr.-jones

CaptainSwan Fanfictions Rec

Hello Beautiful Fandom, here is some of my favorites ONE-SHOTS of our now married couple!!! Some are old, some are new, hope you enjoy!

We Got Us,     lifeinahole

How they got together is mostly a run-of-the-mill story. Boy meets girl. Girl meets boy. A strange and complicated courtship followed. All that really matters to either of them is that they’re happy. They’re in love. They’re miles away from anyone who cares if they are in a relationship or not. Which means their peace can’t last, of course.

The Morning, and Then Some, of the Day After,   Sambethe

This wasn’t exactly the trip he’d had in mind. He’d be an idiot to say he minded in the least. 

Fake Your Deathliteratiruinedme

Hospital attendings au.

Access GrandedSwanandapirate

This is a AU where Emma works for FBI  and Killian is a hacker.

Life with(out) you,   Swanandapirate

Ship It,  lifeinahole

College professors turned secret dating au.

280 Dayscanwetalkaboutcaptainswan

Captain Swan twin pregnancy fic! 

It’s Always Been You (And You Should Know That)alwaysaprilia

Prince Killian of Misthaven was never meant to rule-as the second son, he was content to let the limelight and responsibility fall upon his older brother, the Crown Prince Liam, while he lived a carefree life of adventure, tempting danger at every turn-much to the consternation of his body guard and best friend, Captain Emma Swan.

After Liam’s untimely death, the entire Kingdom is thrown into a tailspin, and none worse than Killian and Emma. Killian must now step up to the role he was never meant to play, and Emma must deal with the consequences of falling in love with her charge, the Prince who would be King.

AND ALL THIS DEVOTION,  stophookingatmeswan

Kiss me, I’m Irish ☘startswithhope


Just a little smutty Friends to Lovers (with no pining!)

Friendship Is Nice. Friendship and Lingerie Is Nicergoddesswan 

Emma gets some new lingerie and, intending to get approval from her friends, accidentally sends some revealing pictures to the wrong group chat.

Savior Ink,  startswithhope

“Every artist has their signature and hers, well it’s cover-ups. Sometimes it’s to mask a now unwanted tat but her favorite is to cover a scar, or as she likes to explain to her clients, honor it. She gets a rush at taking something unwanted and turning into something to cherish.“

Classroom Distractionsbeardetective

Everybody taking one of Professor Killian Jones’ lectures knew Mrs. Jones. Or, if they didn’t know she was actually his wife, they knew the blonde woman who he called “Swan” and who occasionally snuck into the room and made their professor’s always excited grin grow even wider. (NOT StudentxProfessor)

I’m Stuck in Here with YouTryingforTrueGrit

Emma and Killian have a big brother kid sister dynamic. They each have feelings for one another but believe those feelings to be be unrequited. Trapped in Dave’s closet, those feelings become harder to suppress.

Not Quite On The Same Page,  Nostalgia_101

Roommates AU where best friends Emma and Killian keep choosing the most inopportune times to confess their deeper feelings to one another.

Rm 6725,  HelloTragic

Emma Swan is having a horrible day, and just when she thinks things might look up, she gets stuck with a very cranky patient, but God is he gorgeous.

Nurse Emma Swan.

Off The Menu,   kissmelikeapirate

The kitchen was too small for two chefs: especially when one was an arrogant flirt who was after HER job.

An Open Book, hookedonbooks22

Emma Swan moved to Storybrooke in search of the sense of peace she’d always longed for.

She hadn’t realized that she might find it between the pages of a book.

Or in the person who wrote it.

Dumbledore Guy,   dameofpowellestate

When Emma was born she was marked with, in her opinion, the worst soulmate mark anyone could ever have. People are born marked with the first words their true love would ever say to them, and Emma’s happened to spoil one of the greatest plot twists of all time.                                                             

 A Seasick Crocodile,   nowforruin 

After one too many bad setups, Emma thinks the best way to get out of another blind date is to tell her sister-in-law she already has a boyfriend. But when her brother makes the assumption she’s dating Killian Jones, Emma just might need a Christmas miracle to pull it off.

To Repair a Heart Ice_Cube44

In the 1950’s Pediatric Cardiology was a fairly new field. But that didn’t stop Doctor Killian Jones from accepting that as a challenge. When Emma Swan brings her young son Henry to his office with a rare birth defect that threatens his very life, they will have to fight together in order to save his life. That’s all there is - she’s his patient’s mother and he’s her son’s doctor. Until that isn’t all there is. 

Take a Picture It’ll Last Longerimhookedonaswan

Emma Swan doesn’t want to lie about her relationship with Killian Jones, friend and roommate of her best friend’s boyfriend, but she cannot face Mary Margaret’s “I told you so” face. The easiest thing to do is just pretend to hate each other.

UnexpectedHookedonapirate

“I don’t know how to say this, love, but I think you’re pregnant

Between Brothers,   madjm

Killian never meant to fall for his brother’s girl.

all our friends want us to fall in love,   midwestwind

“I don’t do relationships,” she says as Killian takes a large bite out of his half of the grilled cheese. He raises an eyebrow at the non sequitur.

“Okay,” Killian says, dragging the word out, once his mouth is no longer full.

“I just don’t want you to get any ideas about what this,” she motions between them, “is. I’m not interested in anything more than what we’re doing now.”

(emma swan meets killian jones at a wedding. you know where that leads.)

And Now, Here’s Your Hostcereal

“We need to pick a lane, Emma. We go full on with the internet-friendly bits and schtick, or we give the viewers another reason to watch — our numbers are too dependent on the guests right now, we want everyone tuning in every time.” (a ‘Tonight Show’ AU with Emma as the host and Killian as the new bandleader!)

Civic Duty,  VickyVicarious

After three months of Killian going on about some girl named Swan, Liam gets impatient with waiting for his little brother to introduce him to his girlfriend, and decides to take matters into his own hands. …In a suitably embarrassing way to punish him for the delay, of course. 

Hat Trick  bookstoreromantic

When Killian Jones, the Rangers’ star right-winger, breaks his hand after blocking a shot, Emma is tapped to get him healed and back on the ice. 

Holding On For Your Call,   seastarved

A little fic because I have feelings about them growing old together. Inspired by the Underworld phone line in 5x16 and set in some happily ever after where Killian and Emma have the time to build their lives together.

I’ll Cover You,   PhiraLovesLoki

A contest radically alters the relationship between Emma Swan and Killian Jones, lead singers of two local bands. Captain Swan Battle of the Bands AU.

It Was Certain,   tnlph

When your best friend insists you marry him for free health insurance, you go with it.

8

“Let me paint a picture of what’s waiting for you on the shore. You arrive in America, land of opportunity, milk and honey and guess what? You all get to be slaves. Split up, sold off and worked to death. The lucky ones get sunday off to sleep and fuck and make more slaves, and all for what? For cotton? Indigo? For a fucking purple shirt? The only good news is the tabacco your grandkids are gonna farm for free is gonna give a shitload of these white motherfuckers cancer. And I ain’t even started yet.

6

Angry is good. Angry gets shit done. You shed tears for Compe Anansi and here he is, telling you you are staring down the barrel of 300 years of subjugation, racist bullshit, and heart disease. He is telling you there isn’t one goddamned reason you shouldn’t go up there right now and slit the throats of every last one of these Dutch motherfuckers and set fire to this ship.

3

thank you once upon a time seasons 1-6 and it’s fans for instilling us all with a little hope and magic.

Protected | R.M.

Summary: Reggie Mantle grew up protecting what he loved.


I miss you.

You received the text on the first day of school, the instant your baby pink ballet flats maneuvered within the halls of Riverdale High, which were marginally filled with mayhem from everyone’s first day jitters.

Well, not everyone. You, despite your extra pretty face, extra shiny curls, and extra preppy outfit, wore a heavy façade that drooped lower than the Maybelline Fit Me-concealed eye-bags that were situated below your unexplained, cheery eyes that tried to greet everyone with much positivity as possible. As everyone knew your perfect reputation, the happy-go-lucky cheerleader that everyone admired and loved since the day you entered high school. It was never tarnished, so you refused to let a silly break-up move it at all.

You took out your phone and shakily gazed down at the message. It was sent in clear, with no emoji’s or silly grammatical errors. Your nervous fingers moved for you, but your brain was being silly that day and it had no planned response for the text message.

A wave of students accidentally crossed and one of them partially collided against your hardly five feet tall physique, which was a thankful jolt that rattled you off from replying to the text message. You squeezed the iPhone tightly, bearing no mind of the glittery fake diamonds from the phone case bearing harsh indentions against your palm.

The moment you were able to fix your locker and lock it behind you, you immediately set off to find a seat in the gym—hoping that an early departure from the first day madness would create a false sense of comfort from your inevitable fate, which was meeting your ex-boyfriend again subsequently after a summer of trying to forget all about him.


Everyone had always said that you were perfect for Reginald Mantle.

You were a girl blessed with your father’s dominant sloped nose and your mother’s graceful and tiny, ballerina body. Being the only child meant being under the revolving gaze of your mother and father’s watchful eyes twenty-four/seven, and you grew up to be accordingly limpid; yet, at the same time pretentious for you were the heir of one of the wealthiest families in Riverdale.

Reggie was a boy meant for you even before you knew what he was supposed to be. He was a constant person in your life, a fixture caused by your parents and his parents’ meddling. Though, despite your unending play times together and a hired tutor that taught you and him up until you were in middle school, Reggie and you grew up in different paths, in different aspects.

You and Reggie were in the opposite sides of the spectrum. Nevertheless, you were inexplicably drawn to him. He was exactly the same as you, but as the same time, so, so different.

He was difficult to figure out. He had pushed children off swing sets and had hogged all the toy cars to himself as he disliked sharing. You hated the smirk on his face when he teased his inferiors, and still you loved him when he kissed you goodnight. He’d hold you in the softest way possible, muscled arms entrapped around you with touch as light as a feather, and similarly he’d used the same arms dangerously with heated intent at someone else.

You never got why people often told you that he was perfect for you. He was, in your point of view, a mixture of positives and negatives. He was your opposite.

The thing about opposites was that when a unity occurred, it would be a co-existent dependency that held itself with tension.

You loved him more than he loved himself. That was probably the reason why the balance wasn’t right and he pushed himself off, leaving you in the dust.


“Are you alright?” Surprisingly, Cheryl Blossom would be the first person to question you that today. The said Blossom stood above you, her red curls down the right side of her chest, a hand on her hip and a raised eyebrow. You tried to hide the flinch that came with Cheryl’s edged tone, but she assumingly noticed it since she took it herself to sit next to you on that noisy lunch table.

“Talk to me,” she demanded. “I don’t want anyone on my squad to be sadder than my supposed star quality. You cannot rain on my parade on this week’s performance.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered as you picked on your salad.

“[y/n], a stupid boy doesn’t have the right to state your mood status.” She hissed. “There are 7 billion people in the world. God knows how much boys will there be after your life post-Reggie Man—“

“Damn, Cheryl,” You stood up. “I said I’m fine!”

Your words were a little too loud, and laced with anger. The whole open-lawn cafeteria went into a full pregnant pause from your little burst and your eyes betrayed you as it went to a familiar face that you couldn’t just let go off. His smirking, never ceasing, hardly-caring face wavered slightly as he looked your way, as everyone had. He looked down once before pushing his left foot off benched on the seat and faced in the opposite direction, going back into a conversation with Chuck Clayton.

You couldn’t care less what that meant and you sped off from your table, grabbing your cellphone with you. Opening the text message up on your interface, your quivering fingers typed out a reply before hitting send.


“I thought you said I couldn’t see you again,” the tall and handsome boy chuckled as he sat coolly on the stools that they had in Pop’s. His tousled, brown waves would shine into a blondish side under the neon lights of Pop’s infamous signs, and his pretty blue eyes would turn your messy head into a complete haze of white noise. “I missed you,” Jackson voiced out, echoing what he had recently texted you that morning.

It was seven in the evening, and mostly everyone had this night tacked to watch the last screening due for the closing Midnight Drive-In. You had thought to go but you knew that it would simply be another place that would haunt you again with memories that happened in the arms of a familiar stranger.

“I couldn’t resist,” you whispered zealously, biting your lip, then striding towards him until both of your faces had no space with each other. He kissed back passionately, and you followed along in accord, ignoring the way your heart bleated in a monotonous fashion, like it was a routine you followed every morning. Fingers tracing down his rugged, jean jacket, you stopped as it went to a tracing on his arm. A tattoo of a dangerous serpent.

“Watch it,” he pushed himself off you and went to slip down his sleeves. “Any good ‘ole folk wouldn’t wanna see that snake on a young thing’s skin.”

“A young thing, huh?” You titled your head, letting him caress your cheek. It made you feel like being touched by an intruder. You held your tongue from stating that out loud. “I heard that your buddies are over at the drive-in tonight.”

“—yeah,” the handsome, rugged boy agreed, holding your hand like a whisper. “But you’re much better than any movie, let’s agree. Pretty and innocent [y/n][y/l/n].”

“If my father saw you with me,” you told him with a trace of a smile hinting on your lips while leading the boy down to a booth. “He would freak,” you ended with a pendulous but crude smirk, as the feeling of going behind your parents’ back often created a brilliant feeling of teenage rebellion.

However, the light that would go unperturbed that night beneath the luminescence of you with the boy from the Serpents would go back unlit as a sudden burst of unexpected customers walked in the empty Pop’s.

It was a famous group of blue and yellow hues, the king, the boy in between the boisterous and rowdy laughs, and you couldn’t help but shake as his eyes immediately turned toward the serpent and your contumacious self.

“[y/n]?” Reggie Mantle took it upon himself to breeze through the rows of booths with a face of disbelief, his voice rising. And as you expected, anger rising as his comical face slowly slipped to stone cold when his eyes landed on the lingering fingers of the serpent teenager on your arm. “Who the hell is he?”  

“Fuck off, Reggie,” you glared, bringing yourself to whisper to your current partner beside you, “Ignore him.” You tried your best to act a casual as possible, though the sudden racing of your heart that went with the way your ex-boyfriend stared at you in a mix of hardening confusion and indignation.

The other football players were left in a fit of widening eyes as Reggie, in impulsion, went and grabbed your arm in fury, “I’m taking you home.”

And it was a laughable scene, provided that you have been in witness in a circumstance like this before; on the contrary, you were always behind him before, supporting him like a good girlfriend. Until now.

Reggie showed the chaos within him through the bones between his knuckles—several scars made proof of that. Now, you were his enemy, the one that caused the fire beneath his eyes. The booths made a guarded ring.

“What the hell, man—“ The serpent boy scoffed before Reggie snapped and gripped and landed a good punch with no regret on the other boy’s face. That started a full-blown fight, which lead pandemonium where Moose, Chuck, and several others hurriedly tried to pull the Asian off the other boy. Reggie’s blows were pernicious, and over the yells of the football team trying to stop the fight, the only thing you could do was watch everything in horror.


“—fighting on public property, what on earth caused you to do that?!” And Mrs. Mantle let out a startled shriek and tried to shield her son as Mr. Mantle gave a tumultuous slap on Reggie’s already bruising face. You gripped your jacket, feeling the cotton and thinking of it as abrasive as hooves, guilt going off you in waves as the only thing you could do was watch the aftermath unfold in the Mantle estate, where you had been protectively ushered off to with your parents and Sheriff Keller due to Pop’s emergency dial.

“This is getting out of hand,” Reggie’s father continued, a harsher than stern look on his purple face. Yanking back his hand, his gaze shot to you, which you couldn’t bear to hold longer than a second. “This boy has been nothing but trouble this year—I swear, this was the last straw, Reginald. I need to ship him to board—“

“It was my fault,” you found your voice, hurried and not gentle at all—willing to cross out the guilt killing your tightening chest. Your parents’ tension-heavy faces whipped their heads to you, their protected daughter that could hardly do no wrong in this world. “I came there with Jackson—“

“No, I fought him, she had nothing to do with th—“ Reggie hastily claimed, harsh and scarily void of emotion. He was seemingly too callous from responding to his father—and you had realized that this could have been happening more so than none and that this boy could have grown up this way, and while your heart was pouring from hearing him protect you, you knew that it was your call to turn things around.

“No,” you squeaked, hearing yourself panic. “I guess I was being rebellious, I met up with Jackson, and – and- “ You eyed your father. “He was with me and Reggie saw me and Jackson did something and he got provoked,” you finished, lying. You looked at Reggie, and he gazed at you, turmoil and hurt swirling in his eyes.

That led to a tension-filled silence. You closed your eyes, and could hear the sounds of Reggie’s father’s footsteps going off to a direction. Somewhere that’s not here, of course.


“Sorry, that shouldn’t have happened,” he would tell you days later, smirk latched to his lips like a boy to a candy bar. He’d say it would no feeling, no emotion, as if he wasn’t someone that was in what happened and he was merely a person who’d heard of what happened.

The memory of his father slapping him because of you would haunt you forever, and your eyes would wander to his cheek not due to any romantic purpose, but the ache of wondering how much it hurt to protect you, a person he shouldn’t even be caring for anymore.

“I’m sorry,” you ignored his first statement, and spat out what you needed to say. The hallways were empty. “I was being petty. I wanted to—“ The words were dignified to be stated out in the open. “I wanted to forget about you.”

His silence mocked you. The 6’3 handsome and usually word-y jock—the boy you really, just really, really loved, gazed at you as if your turbulence, though with a slip of concern on his façade. You continued, lips burning with words you only imagined you would say in a dream, “You hurt me, Reggie. I hated you for making me spend a summer without you. So, yeah. I did something. I slept with that douchebag, that serpent, just to forget about you. So, fuck you.”

The response was instant. An utter storm shadowed over his face. “Fuck me? Fuck me? Are you fucking kidding me?” His fingers wrapped tightly around his coifed hair, eyes blazing with chasms of void and anger. “The only thing I ever did was goddamn protect you! If you hadn’t been so stupid, you wouldn’t be in this mess. I shouldn’t have protected you from the start if it was going to lead this way.”

“Protected me from the start?” You questioned, beckoned with hatred.

“Yes! I’ve always been protecting you. I love you, [y/n]. So much. The reason I ended things is because you were going to end up broadcasted on this shitty book and—“ Reggie sighed and you looked at him confusingly. He stepped forward, “Look, last year I was in hell. My dad caught me doing some stupid shit and he was going to blame it on you. I needed to protect you, it was instinct. I had to break up with you because I couldn’t bear the guilt that—“

This time, it was your turn to slap him. Reggie snapped his head back at you, shocked.

“You stupid jerk,” your body shook from relief and at the same time, numbness. “You couldn’t have at least told me about that? I literally cried for a week because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you, the great Reggie freaking Mantle.”

Reggie stared at what only could have been eons, before shaking his head and returning a soft gaze that was only for you. “I’m sorry.”

You could shake your head as he placed out his warm hand next to yours, swirling and wrapping it around yours in the gentlest way possible.


It was an epiphany, when you looked at him and you had finally seen a glimpse of an extent that he would do for you. The balance was off and you had thought of it in the wrong way.

He loved you more than he loved himself.


omg i’m so sorry. whenever i write i’d always get so carried away with excessive details and annoying character musings!!! please tell me what you think! feel free to reblog or like or message me! always open to hear what you guys think huehue. :)