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darkcolinodonorgasm · 4 years

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those fabled orchards where the fruits were jewels

A/N: this has been a long time coming. And for “a long time”, I probably mean a year or so. It’s all because of thanks to @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer and @doodlelolly0910 and that talk of orchards and peach trees. I had to switch to apples, but the point still stands: there is a certain chef climbing Emma’s peach tree in here, y’all have been warned.

Also, I’ve stressed @carpedzem with my inability to write smut and the fact that I’ve been listening to HSM for like, two days straight as I worked over this problem. Plus, shall we take this as a celebration for our kind of anniversary? *hides because she knows Nat wanted FATLAS* (♥).

Summary: Killian’s life has always been about finding the perfect balance between flavours, it’s what he does best. So when he finds himself facing the dilemma of Emma Swan’s delicious apples, there’s only one thing left to do: go straight to the source.

From the prompt: orchards (9/365).

Rating: E

Words: ~5.8k

Read on ao3

Emma Swan’s apples were the best he’d ever tasted.

A flush crept up his neck, reddening his skin in an unmistakable way. There wasn’t a day that went by in which Killian Jones wasn’t thankful that there was no such thing as mind-readers, otherwise he’d be royally screwed.

As if you weren’t already, a voice in the back of his mind reminded him, one that sounded very much like Will’s, followed by a snicker that sure as hell belonged to his brother Liam.

Stifling a groan, Killian kneaded the dough again. Stop, or you’ll over knead it, he scolded himself, the chef in him taking charge once again and reining in the stress. Or trying to.

Stress baking wasn’t something new for Killian, it had been his coping mechanism since he was a young lad and his mum had allowed him near the stove and the oven, always supervised, of course.

On this day, however, with the kitchen of the restaurant saturated with the smell of oranges, apples and cinnamon, Killian couldn’t feel an ounce of stress leaving him. Voices, this time hushed and different from the ones he loved though still respected, kept whispering in his ear.

It was very much possible that his restaurant, the dream that had finally come true seven years ago, would be soon visited by a Michelin Guide’s inspector.

Rationally, Killian knew everything that went on in the kitchen was beyond perfect, since he ran his so-called ship like a true Captain, so much even Liam, who’d actually joined the Navy and had reached such rank, was stunned.

But a negative review printed in the copies of a Michelin Guide would be like a cannonball capable of sinking the ship like the bloody Titanic had been sunk by that bloody iceberg.

And then, of course, there was Emma Swan.

Wonderful woman, with sunflower blonde hair he longed to untie and let loose down her shoulders, see the effect it would have when framing blushing cheeks and sparkling green eyes.

This time, he couldn’t bite back the groan, nor he could talk his other head out of wondering how she would look like in the throes of passion.

She’d come - ha! - into his life almost three years ago, taking over Regina Mills’ orchard farm, or rather salvaging it from certain destruction after the woman had gone mad and poisoned her rivals’ trees. Talk about killing the competition.

In no time Emma had become the savior of her competitors, selling them part of her crops at a very low price until their trees had been healed. Her generosity had paid back, with buyers coming from all over the state of Maine purchasing their usual amount of products and more. Killian had been one of them, but he’d probably been the only one seeing how much the gesture touched Emma deep down. And Ruby, bless her soul for introducing them, had told him she’d caught her friend crying after the numbers on the calculator showed her she wouldn’t need to increase the amount of debt she’d stipulated with the bank to acquire the orchards.

Emma Swan’s apples, though, had turned out to be quite the challenge: before, when it was Regina ruling over her kingdom, the fruit did taste like an apple, but delicate, and he’d had to perfect the recipe of his desserts so the flavor was enhanced and not buried. Now, instead, the apples made everything else disappear, their taste different in ways only poets could describe and chefs like Killian could only curse. Every dish was about balance, like chemistry, and changing even just a comma could bring to disaster.

Especially if there’s an inspector coming.

Will chose that moment to speak.

«Are you sure you don’t want me to help?»

Will Scarlet was one of Killian’s best friends and his second in command. Any other person who didn’t know him wouldn’t even give him two cents, but Killian knew his worth, and there was nobody else better at handling knives than Will. He was glad he’d stopped throwing them just for the fun of it and to rile him up.

Dropping his head, Killian sighed, this close to punching the dough again and causing a dent on the counter.

«Only if you know how to get a lass out of my head in a way that does not involve bedding her,» Killian hissed, giving Will a warning look. Obediently, Will shut his mouth.

Will, of course, knew about the predicament he was in: after all, he’d been there to watch Killian stumble upon his own words the first time Emma came into the kitchen to unload the crates full of apples, her strong yet lean arms on display.

Absentmindedly, Killian licked his lips at the memory.

«Earth to boss.»

Will’s voice cut through his thoughts and, once again, Killian contemplated the appealing idea of using his own knives against his best friend.

Killian grunted in response, using a rolling pin to distend the dough. The texture looked perfect, but he wasn’t worried about that, he knew how to make shortcrust pastry, what was unknown to him was the final result.

«Why can’t you date her? We both know she’s a keeper, not one to sleep with one time.»

«Is that why you didn’t try to sleep with her or was it because you dreaded how she could react to your avances?» Killian joked, partially exposing his own fears.

«Oi, you know I am a fan of blondes, but I only have space for Ana in my life.»

Killian had to agree; despite how Anastasia could appear… shallow, at first, she had irremediably fallen in love with a man who couldn’t give her much, only his own heart. And that was enough for her.

He dropped his head with a sigh. «Well, first of all, it’s unethical,» Killian began, blatantly ignoring the don’t-give-me-this-shit expression Will had on his face. «Second of all, you know what I think of relationship with coworkers.»

There was, in fact, a significant difference between the two reasons he’d just listed. It would be unethical to get involved with a supplier, but there would be no direct consequence capable of influencing his job - unless said supplier poisoned the food because they broke up, but that would be catastrophic for both.

As for his second objection, Will had witnessed with his own two eyes the journey of Killian Jones’ shattered heart.

After that affair with Milah, Killian had never been the same. The entire crew had never been the same, the sense of betrayal encompassing all of them. The restaurant had suffered because of her betrayal and they had barely salvaged it before it went back to its old glory. After that, however, they’d never let anyone in, not in the way they had Milah.

Will sighed, leaning onto his forearms. «For all it’s worth, we like Emma,» he began carefully, eyeing his boss as he tried to balance the spices once again, «and she doesn’t exactly work with us in the kitchen.»

«Are you really trying to tell me that I should ask Emma Swan out on a date because I should trust her not to break my heart?» Killian realized his mistake as soon as he saw Will’s grin spreading on his face. Bloody buggering hell.

«Why, yes, boss, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.»

-/-

Enchanted Orchards was, as its name said, magical. It had been a long time, but when his eyes swept over the landscape laid out in front of him, Killian felt invaded by a sense of peace.

Which, of course, disturbed him to no end.

This is ridiculous, he grunted to himself, shaking his head before heading towards the house. You are not going to ask Emma Swan on a date.

In fact, Killian was going to ask her for help. After all, she was smart, and had salvaged a business from certain ruin. She knew her products well, and she knew how to sell them.

What could go wrong?

Apparently, the smoke coming out of what he could only hope and assume was the kitchen window, followed by a whined “no, no” as a blonde vision appeared at the window, coughing.

Stupidity, as well as feelings he never thought he could feel anymore, stopped him dead in his track. He absorbed the sight that was Emma Swan with mouth agape before his brain kicked back in and ran towards the window.

«Let me help you, lass!»

The window was too high, but who knew how long she’d breathed in the smoke before opening the window.

He extended his arms upwards, startling a bit when determined green eyes met his. Emma’s mouth was set in a thin line and her eyebrows arched, clearly annoyed. At last, she accepted his outstretched hands and knelt on the windowsill, before jumping down, helped by him. As much as she tried to stand where she landed, Emma stumbled into him, and Killian caught a whiff of her perfume.

Peaches and apples.

Emma backed away from him vehemently, only to stagger backward. Fortunately for her, Killian had still a hold on her hands.

«Easy, lass, easy.»

She widened her eyes, her luscious lips forming an “o”. «Oh,» Emma breathed, eyes growing even wider. «Oh! I’m sorry, I was-» She cut herself off, a wonderful, breathtaking blush spreading over her cheeks and neck.

Killian chuckled, the tips of his own ears burning in embarrassment. «Don’t worry, love, I’ve had many run-ins with burnt food and fire alarms going off. The feeling of water cascading all over you is oddly pleasant.»

It worked. Emma chuckled, her laugh broken by another fit of coughing. «I can bet,» she agreed, disgust twisting her more than lovely features, «my skin feels just… yikes.»

He snorted. «Sounds about right.»

Neither of them realized they’d been basically holding hands like a couple until Emma looked down and her breath caught, prompting Killian to follow her gaze down where his thumbs were drawing circles over the soft skin of her wrists.

Emma sucked in a breath, pulling away, and Killian had to swallow back down the sense of sadness that had bubbled up within in. The situation was slipping from his grasp; he felt the boat rock beneath his feet. He needed to take control of his ship back, lest he sank.

«What were you cooking?»

Thankfully, her eyes snapped up to meet his once again. Strangely enough, the sea he was navigating in, albeit bumpy, didn’t feel like a threat. That was actually scared him, deep inside.

Emma huffed, raking her fingers through her blonde curls, forgetting the scarf she’d used to keep her hair away from her eyes. Clearly, it hadn’t been enough to keep her focused on the recipe. «Upside-down peach cake. As you can guess, it was a disaster.»

A smile curved his lips, drinking in her annoyed expression, knowing all too well he’d worn a similar one many times. «There’s nothing to be worried about, lass, burning something is a horrible feeling, but it happens.» He glanced upwards toward the cloud of smoke that had turned from black to a dark grey and was now much more sparse than before. «Although, for the sake of your kitchen and yours, I hope it won’t happen again soon.»

Emma grumbled, turning from him and stomping away. She headed back to the house, opening the front door before reminding herself of his presence. Clearing her voice, the woman turned, hand on her hip. «Please forgive my manners, Mr. Jones. What brings you here today?»

There was a cheer in her voice that didn’t sound quite right, but Killian knew that expression very well. He reached her in front of the door, chuckling lightly as his hand rose to scratch behind his ear. «As irony would, have it, I was hoping you’d give me any advice about my own cooking problem.»

The snort she let out morphed into a laugh. Killian couldn’t help staring at her, mouth agape at the beautiful sight of the blonde woman acting so happily in front of him.

«I’m sorry,» she hiccupped, shaking her head, «this might be the most hilarious thing I’ve ever heard.»

Influenced by her amusement, Killian smiled in return.

After a brief moment, Emma tapped her chin, lips pouting slightly, zeroing her gaze onto him. Green eyes flashed as they met his. «What was your question exactly?»

It took him one solid moment to gather his wits and answer her question. «I have a problem with your apples.» Blood rushed to his face as embarrassment washed over him. «They taste different than the ones Regina used to sell me, their flavour is… richer.» His eyebrows twitched, and he couldn’t help but wet his lower lip while holding Emma’s gaze. He was playing with fire, she could very well decide to close the door in his face. Or punch him. Or both. Emma Swan was the kind of woman who would do both.

But Emma’s eyes simply widened and the apples of her cheeks colored a deep red, mirroring the shiny peel of the fruits she grew with such lovingly care.

Her pink lips parted and opened, and Killian wanted to taste them. «I-I use a different method.» Emma cleared her throat, arms crossing over her chest - and what a nice chest it was. She shrugged. «Regina didn’t know how to care for her trees, she was so focused on poisoning the competition that she lost sight of her own business. You probably didn’t notice it before because it’s a long process.» She frowned slightly, her eyebrows pinching together in an adorable way. «I thought the change would be minimal. Clearly, I’ve underestimated Regina’s power to ruin everything she touches.»

Killian tilted his head, suddenly very curious about Emma’s personal relationship with the former owner. However, he was nothing but professional, politely agreeing with her: «I’m afraid you have, but everyone is allowed a mistake or two.»

Emma snorted, waving a hand at the house. «Hopefully this will teach me I will never bake again so I won’t risk burning my house down.»

Noticing the bitterness in her voice, Killian bent his head slightly. «That was not what I meant. I only wanted you to know that, professional or not, any cook or baker has a trail of mistakes behind them. I’ve made many before and after I began working as a professional chef. It’s why I’m here today, standing right in front of you.»

Although confused, Emma arched an eyebrow. «It is?»

He flashed her his dimples. «Aye. I can’t seem to do justice to your apples. Their flavour is something… magical.»

Now, Emma looked both confused and skeptical. «Shouldn’t be your job to, you know, associate flavours and all?»

«It is, but I find myself lost. Usually, tweaking with doses solves the problem, but now…» He grimaced, shaking his head. «That’s why I’m here, I thought you might have the answer to my dilemma.»

At that, Emma smiled apologetically. «I’m sorry, I’m the last person you should ask for culinary advice to.»

Killian waved her worry away. «That’s okay, love. Although… may I give you some culinary advice, instead? If you’re so hellbent on baking, the least I can do is give you some pointers to savage the house and make something edible.»

To his pleasure, Emma flushed red to the top of her head down below her neckline. He licked his lips, very subtly, as he wondered how far did that blush spread.

Focus, Jones, your presence here is simply professional.

He kept his eyes on her, watching her mind work as she tried to justify her answer, whether it was a refusal or not.

After a few moments, Emma set her lips in a firm line. «Is this a way to get me alone with you?»

That left him speechless. Of course she’d think that, you dumb idiot, Killian scolded himself. Besides, it wasn’t as if she was wrong. Not entirely, at least, but there were better ways to ask the lady on a date… not that he was here for that.

Biting his lip not to state the obvious, that she was alone with him right now, Killian merely shook his head. «Not at all. If you want, I can help you over the phone or video call you, it’s your choice.»

Lame and ridiculous, really. Are you so thir-

«Alright.»

Emma’s voice stunned the one inside his head to silence. «Alright?» he repeated, hoping she wouldn’t really consider the conference call offer. God, he was so desperate.

«Yes, I will heed your culinary advice.» She bit her lip, as if unsure about what to say next. «I really, really need to know how to bake better. Or at all. Cooking is not exactly a problem but…»

Before she could tell him more, Killian held up his hand, waving away her concern. «Your reasons are your own, lass, no need to tell me about them if you don’t want to.»

She smiled, and it was probably the most breathtaking sight. «Good. Do you want to help me salvage what is left of my kitchen?»

Killian grinned. «Lead the way.»

-/-

«I can’t believe you’re making me do this.»

Emma’s muttering had increased volume with every trip to the fridge, continuing all through the folding process. Her pout was adorable, but Killian wouldn’t endanger his life just to tell her so.

He didn’t conceal his smile as he watched her repeat the movements he’d taught her. She was meticulous, always heeding his commands. Teaching Emma how to bake felt like being in the kitchen with his crew, although he’d never been close to losing his patience with her.

«I’m sure your boy will like them.»

That was enough to make Emma stop pouting and stretch her lips in a small smile.

In the past few months, he and Emma had become friends, he could safely say so. Helping her learn the basics allowed him to relax and not think about the possibility of an inspector coming to the restaurant. He’d even found a way to highlight the delicious flavour of Emma’s apples. It was entirely possible that he’d named the dessert “Enchanted Swan”, even just to see Emma blush. The name, of course, stayed, and though he had to live through Will’s jokes, Killian wouldn’t dare change it.

Working so close to Emma was a blessing and a torment at the same time: the first few lessons he’d watched his movements, only for her to become more daring, brushing up against him with her arms and hips and her expression was always oh so innocent Killian just wanted to press her against the nearest wall and kiss her senseless.

They kept dancing around each other, never acting on their mutual attraction. And Killian perfectly knew why.

The words had fallen from Emma’s lips during one of their lessons when everything that could go wrong just did. They were trying cookies, simple chocolate chip cookies that had met their fate in the trash bin, although neither cared much about it when Emma was so distressed and Killian couldn’t bear to see her like that.

Emma had then confessed that all her efforts would be for nothing if she couldn’t prove she was good enough to take care of a child. Her words came out like a torrent, telling him how she’d been in a relationship with Neal Gold, Regina’s step-son, and how she’d cared for his son.

«I might not have truly loved Neal, but I love Henry with all my heart,» she’d said, sniffling.

Neal had died about five years ago, when Henry was only four, his mother untraceable, as she’d been since she’d given birth to him. Emma believed Neal’s father had paid her off to stay away, but she didn’t have enough proofs to sustain her thesis. And Neal wouldn’t listen to her, so she’d just accepted to care for Henry as if he was her own.

Alas, after Neal’s death, his father followed in a matter of months. «Destroyed by pain, the news claimed,» Emma had spat those words like venom, «but I bet they both were poisoned.»

Afterward, Emma had tried to adopt Henry, but with Regina still alive, the boy was entrusted to his step-grandmother. It had then taken Emma two years to collect enough evidence for Regina’s crimes, but buying the orchard and framing her wasn’t enough to grant Emma Henry’s custody.

Finally, her chance to adopt him had come, and she couldn’t screw it up.

Emma’s eyes narrowed as she shot a glare at Killian. «Mentioning Henry won’t make you get brownie points.» She would never admit that every time he said the words “your boy” her heart fluttered.

Killian just smirked.

She finalized this next step to get the perfect puff pastry and put it back in the fridge. Turning to him, Emma placed her hands on her hips. «Now what?»

From where he stood with his hip propped against the table, Killian looked at the assortment of fillings laid out on it. «I do believe you’ve got everything ready, it’s just a matter of waiting.»

Emma growled, shaking her head and marching to the table, where she studied the different types of marmalade she’d made with the fruits from her own orchards. When Killian had asked to try them, smug didn’t begin to describe how she felt, especially since it was usually the other way around. His favourite was orange marmalade, a memory of a happier time when his mother was still alive; Emma filed that information for later.

He moved to stand behind her, hovering just over her shoulder. Emma tried to suppress the shiver of pleasure at the feel of Killian’s warm breath over her skin. It took all her strength not to close her eyes and lean back against him.

«Pick your poison,» he hummed in her ear, fingers ghosting over her waist. Goosebumps rose on her skin. So much for thinking that wearing a tank top around him would be a good idea.

Wearing nothing would be much better, don’t you agree?

Emma bit her tongue. «Bold of you to assume Henry would choose anything else but chocolate.»

Behind her, Killian hummed in agreement.

Butterflies filled her stomach, reminding her of that time Killian and Henry had met for the first time. The fact that the kid had taken a liking to Killian should've worried and disturbed her, but whatever dread she'd expected had not come, not then and not in the following weeks. It all just felt… normal.

Being friends with Killian Jones was exactly that, normal, but not that kind of normal she would tire of: he was the last piece of the puzzle.

There, that was what scared her.

Henry had been her priority for years, no boyfriend in sight if not the random one-night-stand to scratch an itch, but Killian had rapidly become part of her life and she wanted to explore what it would be like to just live her life. She didn't regret focusing on Henry, she could never, the boy was her son in all the ways that mattered. Was it really so selfish of her to wish to have Killian by her side as well?

The thought opened another can of worms: what if it ended? What if, one day, Killian decided to just walk away from them? But what if he doesn’t?

Both Henry’s heart and her own were worth protecting, she couldn’t just jump into a relationship only for it to end in a few weeks or months.

Yet, her doubts had stopped her from taunting Killian with not so completely innocent touches, which only served to drive her insanely crazy with lust. God, I’m the worst.

«Swan?»

Her name falling from his lips and the gentle pressure of his warm hand on her hip, with his thumb tracing circles over her thin tank top, destroyed any excuse she was making.

Emma turned around, fisting his t-shirt to draw him close and claim his mouth with her lips.

Immediately, Killian’s arms wrapped around her and she was pressed against his solid body. Her knees buckled at the taste of him, coffee and chocolate mixing together and numbing her mind as his scent washed over her as well. His tongue traced her lower lip, asking for permission, and when she was too slow to heed his request, Killian nipped at it, making her moan.

Slowly, he backed her up until the back of her legs hit the table. Killian didn’t lose another second and effortlessly hoisted her up and settled her on top of it, swallowing her yelp of surprise.

The kiss became almost feral, their hands hungry for the other’s body, searching. They separated long enough to breathe, their foreheads still pressed together.

«That was...» Killian began, panting.

«Shut up and kiss me,» Emma ordered him, her hands smoothing over his abdomen, aiming for the hem of his t-shirt to pull it off him. She then wrapped one hand around his neck and pulled him to her, fulfilling the command herself.

Killian moaned, the noise turning into a growl when her nails dug into his flesh. His fingers tightened around her thighs, pawing at the soft flesh of her legs; Emma blessed the decision to wear shorts today.

As their tongues danced together like perfect partners, Emma felt Killian's coarse chest hair gently scratching her palms on her way to the belt buckle. Now that she'd had a taste, she wanted the whole meal.

Not the time for food jokes, she told herself, only to focus back on Killian when he pulled away.

She whined, but it was short-lived: the ravenous expression on his face and his bright eyes made her shudder. He reached behind her head to pull her hair free from her ponytail with gentle fingers before pulling her head backward, gentle but firm.

«Fuck,» Emma hissed, legs hitching higher around his waist. Lust took possession of her body, and though she knew she was probably rubbing all over him like a cat in heat, Emma couldn’t care less.

«Impatient lass,» Killian chuckled, teeth nipping at her neck. It took him all his strength not to mark her, opting to tear her top instead.

Emma gasped at the sound of the fabric ripping, only to tilt her head backward and sigh when Killian’s mouthed at the alley between her breasts.

The hand fisting her hair trailed down to unhook her bra, which flew somewhere in the kitchen, and any rational thought she may have had flew out of the window when Killian drew one of her nipples into his mouth.

With every sweep of his tongue over her hard buds, never leaving one unattended, whether it was pinched by his able fingers or suckled on. Killian Jones was a breast man, and Emma would never complain about that.

Rubbing her still jeans-covered center against his rock-hard erection, Emma felt the tingling sensation of the orgasm approaching like a tidal wave ready to drown her. In all her life she’d never come by having her breasts played with.

Her eyes fell shut when her clit rubbed against the zipper of Killian’s pants; electricity coursed through her veins, making her feel like a live wire, ready to burn the house to the ground with the intensity of her orgasm. She pulled at his hair and he bit down onto her tender flesh, his other hand traveling back up to fist her hair in a tight grip. The pain mingled with the pleasure, and she was thrown over the edge of the cliff right into the sea of lava.

A loud scream of pleasure echoed in the kitchen and probably reverberated all through the orchard, shaking the leaves and scaring all the birds resting on the branches.

Killian’s low chuckle against her heaving breasts made her tremble even more as she came down from her high. Her experience wasn’t limited, but she had never felt like that before, and certainly, she’d never found a man who enjoyed her breasts so much.

As the haze of her first orgasm dissipated, Emma felt control roll back into her and she moved her fingers to undo Killian’s belt and jeans. A triumphant smile took over her face when he groaned at the feeling of her hand curling around his hardened length, his teeth digging into her shoulder.

He was big, way bigger than any other man she’d been with, and her walls clenched instinctively, wanting to feel him deep inside her. A man as controlled as Killian Jones had to be wild in bed. Or, in their case, on a table.

She pumped his cock without averting her gaze from his, cataloguing every shift in his expression every time her hand moved up and down his shaft, from his ragged breath to the low moan and the trembling in his eyelids when they fluttered closed as she swept her thumb over the tip, spreading the bead of precum there. She licked her lips, and he pounced, capturing her mouth with his.

«Condom,» Emma ordered curtly, her breath short, hand twisting around the head of Killian’s cock. Although she wasn’t one to enjoy blowjobs, there was a wild, newly awakened part of her that wouldn’t mind wrapping her lips around his cock and suck him into oblivion.

Later, she promised herself with a wicked mental smile.

Killian groaned, nipped at her swollen lower lip and reached with a hand to the back pocket of his jeans to fish out his wallet. He threw it on the table, fingers working on the button and zipper of Emma’s shorts.

A squeal tore from her throat when he tugged them down her legs along with her soaked panties. She heard his sharp intake and a grin played on her lips as she seductively parted her thighs, baring herself to him.

«Later, I’m going to feast on this pussy until your screams reach the town.»

Those words sent a fresh wave of arousal through Emma, her insides clenching in anticipation. Her hand shot out to dig her nails into the flesh of his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

She needed him inside her, now.

Killian didn’t need a vocal command to understand what she was demanding of him, pushing down his jeans and boxer briefs enough to free himself and slipped a condom out of his wallet without breaking their heated kiss.

With a grin against his lips, Emma stole the condom from his hands, rolling it down his thick length and enjoying the low moan she swallowed in her mouth. If he could make such promises, she could definitely make him go crazy.

He pushed into her eased by her wetness, but he stilled anyway, giving her time to adjust even though all he wanted was drive into her so hard and fast the jars on the table would end up crashing on the floor.

«Fuck,» Emma hissed, walls clamping around him. She hitched her legs and wrapped them around Killian’s waist, pulling him deeper. A gasp tore from her when the tip of his cock bumped so deep inside her she saw stars.

And then he started to move, and the few constellations became a whole galaxy.

Emma forced herself to open her eyes, meeting Killian’s, his gaze adoring and passionate at the same time. Biting her tender lip, she bucked her hips to prompt him to move. They had all the time to figure out what all this meant later.

Heeding her command as if he was a captain and she the sea and mistress, Killian started to move, hips snapping into hers and knocking the breath out of her lungs.

Pure pleasure rolled through her, another orgasm tingling every peripheric part of her body as if she was run through by electric shocks that threatened to set her whole being aflame.

Killian pushed her flat on the table, his back curving slightly to give him better access to her breasts, kneading the globes with rough yet gentle, experienced hands. Emma moaned loudly, arching up to offer herself to him.

He asserted his appreciation with a hard thrust of his hips, his cock finding her sweet spot. Emma couldn’t hold back the scream of ecstasy, the galaxy behind her fluttering eyelids expanding to the whole universe.

«Killian,» she moaned his name, one of her hands reaching behind his head to tangle her fingers through his slightly damp hair as the other sneaked between their stomachs to reach her clit.

With a menacing growl, Killian caught her wrist and placed it down next to her head, teeth biting into her nipple in warning. Emma’s walls clamped around him at that show of possessiveness, her whole body quivering when his fingers uncurled from around her wrist to go back between them, right where she wanted it.

She’d not expected the pleasure that him touching her there brought, but just the barest touch of the pad of his thumb stroking her oversensitive nub set off another orgasm.

Killian smirked against her breast, teasingly nipping at it. He’d laid out a trail of love marks as he lavished those perfect mounds; hopefully, Emma wouldn’t mind. «Come for me again, love,» he rasped, close to the peak himself, Emma could feel him throb inside her. Like the gentleman he’d always demonstrated himself to be, Killian was waiting for her before taking his own pleasure.

It took just him flicking her clit a few times to bring her over the edge, her limbs and walls clamping around him and pulling him deeper as if she never wanted to ever let him go.

They came screaming each other’s names, Emma’s nails digging into Killian’s flesh while his fingers left faint bruises on her waist to pull her even closer as he spent himself deep inside her.

Emma’s vision swam; even when her eyes opened slightly, constellations danced all over the ceiling. She smiled blissfully, her cheek resting over Killian’s damp hair and her jelly-like arms running up and down his back, enjoying the feeling of him half sprawled all over her, clearly in need of a few moments to regain control of his legs.

His breathless chuckle rang in her ear, reverberating through her as he pressed his head in the crook of her neck.

«What?» she managed to pant, her breath ragged.

«I should’ve known.» Killian pulled away slightly with one last nuzzle at her breast, the most wicked smirk on his face. She yelped in surprise and immediately moaned when he pinched a hard nipple with his fingers. «Yours are the best apples I’ve ever tasted.»

#cs fanfic #captain swan #cs fic #cs fanfiction #captain swan fanfic #cs ff #cs au #emma swan #killian jones #captain hook #my fic #365dwp

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cssecretsanta2020 · 5 years

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Are you in, again?

With this post, I am asking all the lovely people from last year, if you want to participate again. Spread the word even if you are not interested.

The more the merrier!

@accio-ambition @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @andiirivera @branlovestowrite @bucklesomeswashswan @captainodonoghue @captainsjedi @captainswancygnet @celestial-fire-writer @chloeswanson @cocohook38 @cshappybeginning @cstraaash @curiousconstellations @darkcolinodonorgasm @delightfully-difficult-pirate @distant-rose @doodlelolly0910 @downeystarkjr @dreadpirateemma @eastwesthomeisbest @edgeofrealms @emmakillianfan @emmas-storybook @everlastingcaptainswan @fictional-redheads @gingerchangeling @girl-in-a-tiny-box @high-seas-swan @hollyethecurious @hookedonapirate @hooklineandswan @hooklocked @imharryaf @ilovemesomekillianjones @imagnifika @imhookedonaswan @initiala @justbecauseyoubelievesomething @killiancygnus @killiarious @kitsunewingstar @kmomof4 @laschatzi @let-it-raines @lizacstuff @love-with-you-i-have-everything @marcella2727 @mayquita @mezzanottecafe @natascha-ronin @nerdyhuntress @newyearsswifts   @ohmakemeahercules @onceuponaprincessworld @owlways-and-forever @pirateherokillian @princesswan @profdanglaisstuff @resident-of-storybrooke @rouhn @searchingwardrobes @shireness-says @snowbellewells @tehgreeneyes @the-captains-ayebrows @the-corsair-and-her-quill @the-girl-in-the-band-tshirt @thejollyroger-writer @thislassishooked @vatrixsta @welllpthisishappening   @xellewoods  @xemmaloveskillianx @xhookswenchx @yasmin-khan

#csss2019 #cssecretsant2k19 #csss #secretsanta2k19 #cs #cs ff #captain swan #last year participants #lets do it again #join us

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cssns · 6 years

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Second Wave Preview

And we are back!!! In case you missed it, the First Wave Roundup posted yesterday and can be found here. Our second wave authors and artists have already started posting and we have much more fantastic fic to come! The second wave covers the entire month of July. We have 19 authors posting with accompanying artwork as well as original artwork to look forward to! So, who’s ready? I sure am! Here we go!

@sherlockianwhovian posted her Werewolf!Killian one shot Living In a Lunar Spell with artwork by @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713

@branlovesouat posted the first chapter of her 4 parter The Man of Misthaven with Killian as a bog mummy come back to life. Fic includes Alice. Artwork by @hollyethecurious.

@whumped-natascha-remi-ronin posted the first chapter of her Medium!Killian fic Afloat on Shipless Oceans. Artwork by @huffleporg will be coming later.

@distant-rose posted the first chapter of her MC, Seal of Fate featuring Selkie!Killian. Artwork by @drowned-dreamer will be posted next week.

@eastwesthomeisbest posted original artwork of Witch!Emma casting a love spell on Killian

These are the works that have already posted this month. But what’s next? Well, I’m glad you asked!

Coming up the rest of the month:

@courtorderedcake will begin posting a series of fics loosely based on fairy tales on July 9 with accompanying artwork.

@flipperbrain will be posting a vampire oneshot with accompanying artwork on July 10.

@snidgetsafan will begin posting a ghost MC on July 11. Artwork by @the-irish-mayhem.

@thejollyroger-writer will begin posting her MC with a smorgasbord of supernatural creatures on July 13. Artwork by @eastwesthomeisbest.

@seriouslyhooked will begin posting her shapeshifters MC on July 14. Artwork by @shipsxahoy.

@doodlelolly0910 will begin posting her MC featuring Medium!Emma on July 16. Artwork by @courtorderedcake.

@youre-not-a-cat-youre-a-rat will be posting the first of her 3 one shots based on the TV show Charmed on July 17. Artwork by @huffleporg.

@delightfully-difficult-pirate will be posting her werewolf one shot on July 20. Artwork by @shady-swan-jones.

@nerdyhuntress will begin posting her vampire MC on July 22. Artwork by @huffleporg.

@rouhn will be posting her guardian angel one shot on July 23. Artwork by @eastwesthomeisbest.

@drowned-dreamer will begin posting her selkies MC on July 25 with accompanying artwork.

@stubble-sandwich will begin posting her werewolf MC on July 26. Artwork by @spartanguard.

@its-imperator-furiosa will begin posting her angels and demons MC on July 28. Artwork by @courtorderedcake.

@technicallysizzlingcloud will be posting her werewolf one shot on July 29. Artwork by @spartanguard.

and finally,

@spartanguard will begin posting her mermaid/shapeshifter/soulmate MC with accompanying artwork on July 31.

WHEW!!!!! Is that a lot of fics? I think that’s a LOT of fics! Plus we’ll be seeing updates to already posted MC’s. I am absolutely beside myself over all the AMAZING fic we’ve already had and we have coming up! Make sure you read and give all the authors and artists some love for their hard work and wonderful results! As this post covers the preview for weeks 7&8, I will not be posting a separate post to preview those weeks. I will be posting a review post when those weeks are completed as well as a preview post for the end of July. Until then my friends...

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kmomof4 · 2 years

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Stupid Questions... (And the Stupid Men Who Ask Them) A New Year’s Fic by @kmomof4

Slipping in one more fic on my most productive writing year yet! @iverna @caught-in-the-filter and @everything-person were discussing an EXTREMELY boneheaded Facebook/Twitter post the other day on the CS Movie Marathon Discord and I decided to write it. I truly hope I did the HYSTERICAL conversation between the ladies justice.

Thank you to @jrob64 for her beta skills and her guidance on the fic as well as her assurance that the fic really is funny and to @hollyethecurious for being a sounding board about what direction to take it in.

I really hope y’all enjoy and let me know what you think!

Summary: Neal is an idiot and really steps in it. CS gets together. Everyone’s happy.

Rating: T

Words: Almost 2900

Tags: New Years Eve, Neal is Clueless

On ao3

Tagging the usuals.

@hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @snowbellewells @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @jennjenn615 @kingofmyheart14 @wistfulcynic @branlovestowrite @thisonesatellite @ultraluckycatnd @flslp87 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @let-it-raines @shireness-says @kymbersmith-90 @darkcolinodonorgasm @bethacaciakay @searchingwardrobes @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @aprilqueen84 @qualitycoffeethings @superchocovian @artistic-writer @donteattheappleshook @doodlelolly0910 @seriouslyhooked @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @klynn-stormz @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @zaharadessert @elizabeethan @goforlaunchcee @gingerpolyglot @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @sailtoafarawayland @justanother-unluckysoul @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @deckerstarblanche @the-darkdragonfly @batana54 @purplehawkcaptain @k-leemac @motherkatereloyshipper @apiratewhopines @killiansqueenofthejollyroger @onceuponahookandswan @meat-pie-with-sauce @cosette141 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @fleurdepetite @hookmecaptain @o-wild-west-wind

*I am updating my tag list for ‘23, so if you want to remain on my list, or be added, please contact me either here or on discord and let me know.*

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Group Chat

Killian, David, Robin, Will, Liam,

Victor, Neal

N: hey guys. Do girls actually orgasm?

K: 🤨

L: are you kidding?

R: what???!!!

N: seriously hear me out do women actually orgasm? I mean maybe that’s why theres so many unsatisfied women… theyve been taught that they should, but they really cant

K: 🤦😱

D: …

Killian

D: Is he serious? I mean, really?

K: I’m afraid he is 😳

D: OMG

Group Chat

Killian, David, Robin, Will, Liam,

Victor, Neal

V: I’ve actually wondered that too

N: THANK YOU VICTOR

W: What’d I miss?

😳

Ya might want to consider, lads, that you’re doing it wrong… Pun very much intended

~*~*~

New Year’s Eve

David and Mary Margaret’s farmhouse

“I think I’m gonna ask the ladies,” Neal said, leaning casually against the counter sipping his beer while Killian straightened up the kitchen.

“Ask the ladies what?” he asked.

“From the group chat the other day,” Neal explained.

Killian stopped what he was doing and stared at Neal.

“Are you kidding me? What purpose… WHY would you do that?”

“Who better to ask?” he said, sounding a bit indignant. “I mean, they would know, right?”

Killian rolled his eyes. The idiot was going to get his ass handed to him on a silver platter, and Killian had to admit, he’d enjoy watching it. He’d never liked the man. His general arrogance and superiority complex irritated him to no end. And especially when he was around Emma. To hear Neal talk, you’d think he was the greatest thing that’d ever happened to her and that he’d been the one to break it off with her over a year ago. When actually, Killian and a few others in their group knew that Neal was lousy in bed, so she’d broken it off with him after just a few months. But since she’d never raised an objection to him occasionally coming back around when she’d have the most reason to, he’d decided to keep his mouth shut. The alcohol had been flowing pretty freely all night, but he didn’t think Neal was drunk enough to think that asking this question was really a good idea.

Robin came in then to see Killian putting the rest of the trash in the garbage can, studiously avoiding Neal’s eyes and Neal looking seriously affronted.

“What’s going on, guys?”

“This Einstein wants to ask the ladies what he asked us in the group chat the other day.”

Robin couldn’t stop the bark laugh that burst from him at Killian’s statement. Neal’s face reddened even further.

“It’s your funeral,” Robin snickered and Neal left the kitchen with an angry huff. Robin brought himself under control and smirked at Killian. “This I’ve got to see. Come on, mate.”

The tiny curl of Killian’s mouth made Robin’s grin even wider. They pushed through the doors from the kitchen to the den. Neal had just settled back down in his chair and was looking around the room, obviously waiting for a lull in the various conversations happening. Mary Margaret sat on David’s lap, her arms looped around his neck and was conversing with Liam and his girlfriend, Elsa.

Whale was deep in conversation with Ruby, and Emma and Regina were talking animatedly near the window. Will and Belle were snuggled up in front of the fire.

The ladies by the window came back into the den, drawing everyone’s attention briefly. Neal saw his chance and took it.

“I saw a post on Twitter the other day and wanted to ask you ladies about it,” he said loudly, with a sideways glance at Killian and Robin. It was all Killian could do to not shake his head and roll his eyes at the man. He wondered if he should go pop some popcorn to eat while watching the show about to commence.

“What was it?” Mary Margaret asked. David’s eyes got big and shot over to Killian and Robin. Killian gave a short sharp nod and David shut his eyes in dismay.

“It asked if women really orgasm.” Silence met Neal’s statement.

Killian’s eyes darted around, taking in the expressions on all the different faces in the room. There was incredulity and embarrassment on the faces of the ladies and the men had a mixture of horror and resignation along with a bit of curiosity in Victor’s case.

“Do women really orgasm?” Regina repeated slowly and deliberately, with a roll of her eyes. “Only someone as boneheaded and clueless as you, Neal, would ask that question,” she snarked. Robin moved toward her and wrapped his arm around her waist, nuzzling her neck.

“I tried to tell him, babe.” He placed a kiss on her pulse point, making her shiver. Robin smirked at Neal before continuing. “But he wouldn’t listen.”

Regina turned toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck before turning her face back toward Neal. “I can assure you, women orgasm.”

“But how do you know?” Victor asked. “I mean, the evidence for men is indisputable, but for women, there’s no objective physiological evidence for it.”

“Yeah,” Neal agreed, obviously appreciating the support.

Killian burst out laughing at them, and Liam turned stunned eyes on his college roommate while Elsa’s cheeks flamed.

“Ya wouldn’t know a woman’s pleasure if it knocked you upside the head, mate,” Will shot at Victor over his shoulder.

“Neither would Neal,” Emma murmured under her breath, cutting her eyes toward the man in question and then at Killian. When she spotted him looking at her, her cheeks reddened.

“I knew there had to be a reason Whale was charming someone new every month,” David said. “Nobody would go for it more than once.”

“But maybe he has a point?”

Killian’s neck jerked so hard turning it toward Emma, he was amazed he didn’t pull something. “Swan. SWAN!” he repeated, absolutely horrified. “Do you mean to tell me that you’ve never…”

“No!” she exclaimed. “But… I mean…” she stammered, her cheeks as red as the leather jacket she favored, “just, you know, it’s different when it’s, uh, with a partner. As opposed to… something else. I mean, maybe some women really can’t… you know.”

“Whatever you’ve been told. Whatever you’ve experienced, Swan,” he couldn’t help cutting his eyes over at Neal at that point before meeting her own again, “I can guarantee you is incorrect.” He waggled his eyebrows at her trying to lighten the mood a bit. “And I’d be more than willing and happy to prove it to you anytime you wish.”

“Yeah, I bet you would,” smirked Liam, who was well aware of how his brother felt about Emma.

Regina rolled her eyes. “Surely there’s someone in this town willing to educate these two idiots.”

Ruby smirked and looped her arms around Whale’s neck. “I bet I could teach him a few things,” she purred.

Victor’s face looked absolutely delighted as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “I am yours to command,” he said, earnestly.

“Don’t look at me,” Emma said, hands held up in a ‘stay back’ gesture. “I may be the only unattached female here, but I’ve had my fill of ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.’” She cut her eyes back toward Neal again. “Once was one time too many.”

Neal’s face was so red with embarrassment, it was nearly purple. Killian almost felt sorry for the man being outed like this. But then he thought about Neal’s treatment of Emma and smiled in approval. Before he could make his own smart comment, Neal surged to his feet and bolted for the front door, slamming it shut behind him. Killian thought he heard him muttering something along the lines of doesn’t know what she’s talking about. He could only hope that was the last they’d see of him.

He could see the tension release from Emma’s shoulders as soon as Neal left and he had to admit, he was relieved as well. Everyone else went back to their conversations and Killian approached Emma where she was standing by the Christmas tree.

“Are you alright there, love?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just ignore him most of the time. But that was…” she trailed away with a shake of her head.

“Have to agree with you,” he said, taking a sip of his water. There was almost an hour before the ball dropped and if he wanted to be able to drive home tonight, it was time to switch.

Emma took a sip of her own and cleared her throat nervously, her eyes darting around the room at all the couples. Following her gaze, he saw several couples he wasn’t sure would make it to the ball drop.

“Some people need to get a room,” she muttered.

Killian snorted into his glass, thankful he’d already swallowed. “They won’t make it much longer, I don’t think,” he assured her.

And sure enough. It wasn’t fifteen minutes later when Ruby and Whale were saying their goodbyes. Robin, Regina, Will, and Belle had all already left.

“Don’t forget brunch tomorrow, Emma,” Ruby said.

Emma raised her eyebrow at her friend. “Uh huh, like I’m the one who’ll have to leave a man in my bed to get there.”

Ruby grinned wolfishly. “I’ll text you if I’m not going to make it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Emma dismissed. “Have fun. Be safe.”

“Always,” she said with a wink, turning toward the door where Victor was saying goodbye to David, Killian, and Liam.

Elsa shot Emma a look. “That’s not necessarily true, you know.”

“What?” Emma asked.

“That you wouldn’t need to leave a man in your bed to make brunch with Ruby tomorrow.”

“Are you talking about Killian?” she asked. “He wasn’t serious,” she continued, rolling her eyes.

“Are you sure about that, Emma?” Mary Margaret asked. “He has mooned over you forever.”

Elsa nodded in agreement. “It’s obvious to everyone but you, Emma. That man is crazy about you. Why do you think he hasn’t dated since you and Neal broke up?”

Emma looked sheepish, cutting her eyes toward the door and shrugged her shoulders.

“You should go for it, Emma,” Mary Margaret urged her. “He’s made the offer, the ball is in your court. You have to be the one to act. He’s not going to say anymore about it. He’ll wait for you and whatever you’re willing to give.”

Emma looked over at the door again as Killian laughed loudly at something Liam just said. His eyes caught hers and his mirth disappeared as he smiled gently at her. Just that small interaction was enough to send her heart racing. Of course, she’d always been attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be? With his gentleman tendencies, crystal blue eyes, dark brown hair and dark scruff with just a hint of ginger, the man was undeniably gorgeous. And a massive flirt. He’d never given her any indication that he’d be interested in anything more than just one night. And Emma wasn’t willing to risk the friendship she had with him on one night. But what her friends were telling her now was making her head spin. And she didn’t know what she should do about that.

Once Ruby and Victor were gone, the other three couples turned off all the lights, save the TV and Christmas tree, and settled in the den to watch the live coverage of the ball drop. Emma sat next to Killian on the sofa, but wouldn’t let herself get too comfortable with him. His arm was slung across the back of the sofa and it was incredibly tempting to snuggle into his side and let him wrap his arm around her shoulder. But given her vacillation on the pertinent question, she didn’t want to send mixed signals. And what if she was right and he really wasn’t serious? She didn’t think she’d be able to stand it if she succumbed to temptation and he rejected her. As midnight approached, her nerves increased.

Emma turned slightly to look at Elsa. Bathed in the light from the fire, she couldn’t see her friend’s expression very well, but she gave Emma a slight nod and smile of encouragement. Emma smiled back and turned to look at Killian. The darkness of the room wrapped itself around them until Emma was aware of nothing but Killian looking right back at her. Emma caught her breath at what she saw in his eyes. Desire, devotion, love. She could hear the countdown from the flatscreen in the background, but it was nothing more than an unimportant nuisance to what was happening between her and Killian.

Before she could second guess herself, she moved toward him and brushed her lips against his.

That was all it took. It was like a dam broke. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her back to him, capturing her lips with his. His hands plunged into her hair, as he requested entrance with his tongue.

Emma moaned at the back of her throat as she eagerly granted his request. He pillaged and plundered like a pirate of old and Emma felt a shiver of pleasure cascade down her spine. She gasped as his arms tightened around her, her breasts flattening against the hard planes of his chest.

Pulling back with a soft whimper of disappointment, she gazed into his eyes. They were blown with arousal and she could feel his hardened length against her hip where she all but laid across his torso.

“You know,” he whispered, “I’ve heard it said that whatever you’re doing at midnight on New Years, is what you can expect for the coming year. Or something along those lines anyway.”

“Hmmm,” she replied. “You know, I’ve heard that too.” Emma couldn’t miss the white of his teeth as he grinned widely at her statement. She responded in kind. “So are you ok with that? With this? Us?”

His arms tightened around her and he bent down and kissed the end of her nose. Emma didn’t think anyone had ever done anything that cute to her before and it made her grin even wider.

“I am very much ok with it, Swan. As long as you are.”

“I am.” She looked around the room at the other couples, still caught up in their own embraces, feeling her cheeks heat. “You want to get out of here?” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked at him. He squeezed her hip slightly and released a quiet groan at her question.

Emma jumped up from the sofa, Killian following her, drawing the attention of everyone else.

“This was fun, M’s,” she gushed. If she wasn’t so flustered, she’d likely laugh at the lustful haze and bewildered look on David and Mary Margaret’s faces at being interrupted.

“Huh?” she asked, shaking her head, trying to put her hostess hat back on. “Oh, right! Thanks for coming,” she exclaimed, standing and pulling Emma into a tight embrace.

David, Liam, and Elsa also rose, David holding his hand out to shake. “Thanks for coming, guys.” He was more collected than Mary Margaret and gave Killian a significant look. Liam, too, raised his eyebrows at Killian, noticing how closely he stood to Emma, his hand resting lightly on her waist.

“Is this what I think it is,” Liam asked softly, where the ladies wouldn’t hear.

Killian’s cheeks flamed and he had to struggle not to scratch at the place behind his ear that always itched when he was nervous or embarrassed.

“Yes, brother. And you have my assurance,” he continued, glancing at David, “I won’t do anything to hurt her. I’m in this for the long haul.”

David put his hand on Killian’s shoulder. “Good. It’s about damn time.”

“Agreed,” Liam said.

Everyone took their leave, and Killian escorted Emma back to her apartment where he proceeded to show her, in exquisite detail and for many hours, just how in this for the long haul he was.

~*~*~

January 3

Granny’s Diner

Emma made her way into Granny’s to finally meet up with Ruby for their annual New Years Brunch. It had been postponed and postponed again when they both couldn’t be bothered to leave their respective men to meet up.

Ruby’s grin was wide and wolfish as she sat down.

“A little sore are we?” she asked.

Emma licked her lips nervously. “Maybe just a little.”

Ruby howled. “I always knew Jones would be good in the sack.” She leaned forward eagerly. “How many times? Not total, but the first night.”

Emma bit her lip before replying. “Four.”

Ruby threw her head back as she laughed. She got herself under control, her eyes twinkling. “It was a little slow going at first, but Victor’s a quick study. He’ll be fine.” Ruby’s grin was all teeth and Emma grinned back before her attention was drawn to the back of the diner, where Neal rose from his seat, violently throwing his fork down on the table and bolting for the door. His face was thunderous and it wasn’t hard to figure out that he’d overheard their conversation.

Emma rolled her eyes as Ruby giggled.

“Stupid men…” she said before joining Ruby in joyous laughter, expressing all the happiness in her heart for the new year before them.

~*~*~

Happy New Year, everyone!! Thank you for reading and sharing! I’d love to know what you think!

#stupid questions... (and the stupid men who ask them)#krystal writes #art by krystal #new years fic

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superchocovian · 5 years

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Was tagged by the lovely @scientificapricot and have been meaning to do this since I saw it on my dash when @bleebug first posted it. Glad I’m finally getting around it it and one day we’ll get to every other thing I’ve been tagged in!

Copy/paste and bold your fic preferences because why not, gotta choose one (near impossible, but go with your first gut instinct), and tag someone because, again, why not.

slow burn or love at first sight

fake dating or secret dating

enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers

oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance with correspondence

hurt/comfort or amnesia

fantasy au or modern au

mutual pining or domestic bliss

smut or fluff

canon compliant (missing scenes) or fix-it fic

alternate universe or future fic

one-shot or multi-chapter

kid fic or roadtrip fic

reincarnation or character death

arranged marriage or accidental marriage

high school romance or middle aged romance

time travel or isolated together (cabin in a snow storm, desert island)

neighbors or roommates

sci-fi au or magic au

bodyswap or genderbend

angst or crack

apocalyptic or mundane

I honestly have no clue who has done this, so sorry if you’ve been retagged, but let’s go with: @sherlollyandspoilers, @lostsoulincssea, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @thegreatorangedragon, @fezfanatic, @killianmesmalls, @ashley-knightingale, @bookwormchocaholic, @forgothatyouexisted, @everything-person, @resident-of-storybrooke, @carpedzem, @cat-sophia, @wellhellotragic, @let-it-raines, @welllpthisishappening, @capswantrue, @papofglencoe, @alliswell21, @artistic-writer, @hollyethecurious, @doodlelolly0910, @searchingwardrobes, @xemmaloveskillianx, @pirateherokillian, @thisonesatellite, @winterbaby89, @alteanroyals, @book-and-music-lover, @darkcolinodonorgasm, @therooksshiningknight and, as always, everyone else who would like to do this- consider yourself tagged!

#fanfiction #scientificapricot #get to know me #tag game

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let-it-raines · 5 years

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“I accidentally set your plant on fire and I felt super guilty so I went to the store to buy you another plant but they ran out of the plant that you had and I didn’t know what other kind of plant you liked so I may or may not have bought you enough plants to fill a small greenhouse?”

@doodlelolly0910 tagged me in this list of prompts, and I asked her to pick one for me to write so here we are! This is definitely, like, 2,400 words of foolishness, and there may be a bad plant pun or two in there.

This is why she never agrees to house sit. She’s done it before, but that was only for Mary Margaret and David when they went on their honeymoon. And even then, it was a disaster when the cat got outside, and by the time she’d caught Grumpy (she still can’t believe they named their cat after one of the seven dwarves when Grumpy Cat already exists), the damn cat decided that its claw marks would look absolutely wonderful all over Emma’s face.

And her chest. She’s got a scar on her chest right above her right breast from where Grumpy had gotten his claw stuck in deep.

She thought she was dying for a solid week from some kind of feline disease. She’s not even sure what ones are out there, but she was definitely going to get one from Grumpy.

So house sitting hasn’t really been her thing after that, even if it’s easy money and something she can do after she gets home from her shifts at the station. And yet here she is wandering around the gardening section of Lowes because she set Killian’s plant on fire when she was in his house last night cleaning for when he comes home from visiting his brother in England today. There’d been a funky smell, and she’d lit a candle to try to make the place smell more homey and less like somewhere that had been empty for two weeks. And of course she’d accidentally knocked the candle into the plant, setting the thing on fire.

One job. She had one main job, and it all went up in flames.

Literally.

Two weeks she managed to take care of the place with nothing going wrong, and she screwed it all up when he’s coming home today.

Dammit coconut beach candle.

Maybe if Killian had a better taste in candles this wouldn’t have happened. It smelled good and all, but she likes for her candles to smell like baked goods. He likes for his candles to smell like the beach, even though they both live five minutes away from the beach. Seriously. She can walk there. So can he.

He doesn’t need the candle.

“Can I help you, miss?”

She turns around to look at the man who’s speaking to her, a Lowe’s blue vest draped over his shoulders. She thinks his name is August, but his name tag is too small and she doesn’t have her glasses on.

“Yeah, I’m looking for a houseplant, but I don’t really know what the name of it is.”

“Do you have a picture of it?”

No because why would she take a picture of Killian’s house plant before she set it on fire? That would be premeditated murder or something ridiculous like that.

“No, sorry,” she cringes, looking around the garden. It smells like water in here. “It was tall, kind of leafy, maybe beachy? I don’t really know. It’s not my plant. It’s my neighbor’s, and I kind of accidentally destroyed it.”

“You destroyed a plant?”

“There was an accidental fire last night.”

August open his mouth, but he quickly presses his lips together, obviously remembering that he works here and isn’t supposed to judge her. He’s totally judging her.

“So tall and leafy then?” he asks, taking a step ahead of her. “Follow me and I’ll show you around while we try to find it.”

She looks at approximately sixty-seven brands (Breeds? Types? Species?) of plants, both house plants and ones that go in gardens (apparently Killian could have been growing an outdoor plant indoors), and after two hours, she’s got a cart full of twelve different tall plants. She doesn’t know how she’s going to fit them in her bug, but she’s kind of desperate. There’s no way Killian won’t notice that she killed his plant, but maybe it’ll be okay since she’s now bringing all kinds of vegetation into his house.

She’s going to have to move out of their duplex, isn’t she? She’s a plant murderer, and she’s going to have to move. There’s no other choice.

The irony is not lost on her that she’s arrested people for actual murder.

It takes some maneuvering, but she manages to get all of the plants inside, putting the one that looks closest enough to the old one in the spot in the living room and dispersing everything else throughout the house. They don’t really go, but the man obviously loves his plant for him to leave her such specific instructions on how to take care of it.

Oh God. She hopes a dead relative didn’t give it to him or something.

A dead relative probably gave it to him. Or an ex-girlfriend.

Or a current girlfriend.

That doesn’t seem quite right there. Their walls are thin, and she’d know if he had a woman over. Not that she’s listening or anything. She’d just know. Plus, they kind of have a thing going, don’t they? She’s not really sure because as much as Killian flirts with her, he flirts with everyone. It’s how he talks. There’s an innuendo constantly at the tip of his tongue, and he can twist absolutely everything into something dirty.

But they have…something. She’s not sure what. It’s been a long time since she’s had what is basically an adult crush (feelings? That seems ridiculous) on someone, and she’s not sure how to read the situation. She reads situations for a living, but it’s different when it comes to her personal life. Ruby is absolutely convinced that Killian is head over heels in love with her and that’s why his flirting is somehow different with her. It’s softer, not quite as risqué, but she doesn’t know too much about that.

All she knows is that she likes her neighbor and she burned down his plant.

And broke his candle.

Shit. She should have brought a new candle.

“Swan?” Killian calls, and she practically loses her legs from underneath her as she grabs onto the kitchen countertop. “Are you in here?”

He is not supposed to be home. For hours. She was supposed to have hours. How the hell does a flight from London get in early? It’s an international trip. It should get in late.

“In the kitchen,” she calls out, reaching up to tighten her ponytail on top of her head.

“Love, why is there dirt on my floor? And new plants everywhere? Are you starting a greenhouse? Did someone break in and…leave me plants? Is there some epidemic of a new breed of burglar? I know I’ve been gone, but I feel like you should still have kept me updated on something as fantastic as that.”

She’s not at all prepared for him to be home. His plant is not that big of a deal, but somewhere in the back of her mind she’s freaking out about this being some kind of weird sign that she’s not nurturing to life somehow. But that’s some anti-feminist shit, and she should not at all be worried about things like that.

Honestly, maybe all she wants is to make sure she gets paid for taking care of his house.

How much she spent at Lowes far outweighs how much Killian is going to pay her.

They’re not known for their Lowe prices.

That was a bad joke even in her head.

“Swan,” he says again, his body coming into view. He looks the same as when he left, but it’s not like she expected him to suddenly change his appearance because he went back home for a few weeks. His beard is a little thicker and his accent is definitely thicker, but he’s still the same. “Emma, why the bloody hell have you turned my house into a greenhouse? Are you housing some kind of animal in here that I don’t know about? It’s fine with me but our landlord will – ”

“I burned down your plant,” she blurts out, not able to keep it in anymore. She hasn’t been this nervous in months. She doesn’t even know why she’s nervous. She’s a badass deputy sheriff who kicks criminals’ asses (and deals with friendly drunk people on the roof of the Rabbit Hole but that’s a different story) and isn’t intimidated by anything. Her adult crush is obviously reverting her back to a teenager.

Hell, she wasn’t even like this as a teenager. She was much more…hardened by the world.

This is obviously a delayed reaction to Grumpy scratching her. This is it. The sickness is finally catching her.

Killian tilts his head to the side while his right brow raises in a move that is so him that it might as well be his signature. “You what now?”

“I was in here last night, and I decided to light a candle to make it smell less stuffy. And then because apparently my body is not my own anymore, I knocked your dumb coconut sea ocean banana whatever breeze candle into it, setting your plant on fire. So I went to Lowes and couldn’t find the same plant and – I guess I bought you a lot of plants, which was really dumb.”

“You killed my plant? And then you bought me – ” He gestures around the room, his lips curling into a smile while her stomach does this weird twisting thing. “ – more plants? I never knew you had such a green thumb.”

“I mean, I’d say I have a charred thumb but whatever.”

They both laugh at that, and the coils in her stomach begin to untwist, everything calming a bit. She’s been so ridiculous about this entire thing. This is not her. This is not her at all.

She’s going to have to take home some of these plants, isn’t she?

“So you don’t hate me for killing your plant?”

“No, I don’t,” he sighs, dropping his backpack and taking a few steps closer to her so that he’s hovering in her space. “Actually, I quite fancy you from time to time when you’re not murdering a plant that my mother gave me before she passed away.”

Shit.

Of course his mother gave it to him before she died. Of course. Of course. Of course.

“I am so so so sorry,” she starts, feeling heat rise in her cheeks while her stomach starts coiling up again. And then she looks at Killian, actually looks at him. The lines around his eyes are crinkled, the corners of his mouth practically at his eyes, and he’s practically vibrating from holding back his laughter. “You asshole,” she huffs, leaning forward to hit against his chest, knowing that she’s hitting a little harder than she intends to. “Your mom did not give you that plant. You made me feel bad for nothing.”

“Well, you did kill my plant and presumably break my candle.”

She has a retort on the tip of her tongue, but then she’s watching Killian’s as it traces along his bottom lip and completely ignoring the way he’s grabbing her hands on his chest and intertwining his fingers with hers, squeezing the slightest bit. Or maybe not completely ignoring it. She knows when something is happening, and something is definitely about to happen. She’s kind of…overwhelmed.

“Hey, Emma?” he whispers, his vibrant smile shifting into something much softer as he stares down at her, his breath warm and minty so close to her lips.

“Yeah?”

“Will you let me plant one on you? I really am rather frond of you and missed you very much.”

Oh my God, that was bad, she thinks to herself, having to bite down on her tongue.

It was bad, but the guy knows how to think on his toes.

“I cannot believe you just asked to kiss me by making bad plant puns.”

“Well, I never said they were going to be good. You make horrible jokes all the time. Ones that are far worse than that.”

“I do not.”

“You do.”

“Name one.”

“Well, there was last month when we were watching the weather channel and a parade got cancelled because of the rain, and you made about six separate ‘rain on your parade’ jokes.”

“Hey, now. That was – ”

“Emma?”

“Yeah?”

“Please shut up and kiss me.”

And she does, pressing up on her toes and pushing forward to brush her lips over his, timid at first before Killian releases her hands and tugs her impossibly closer by placing his hands on her back under her shirt, his lips more aggressive as they move with hers, the softness of his mouth contrasting with the roughness of his beard. It’s a burn that she wants to revel in, especially when she nips at his lip and he lets out a groan that makes her toes tingle.

They actually tingle.

Like some kind of weird fairytale.

She has no idea why he’s suddenly decided that now is the time for them to stop dancing around each other and make a move, but she is most definitely not going to complain.

He’s a damn good kisser.

“So, like,” she gasps when they pull back, breaths heavy and warm against each other while her hands move up and down his biceps while Killian’s arms stay still on her lower back, “if I set fire to all of these other plants, do we get to keep doing that?”

“Eh, I don’t know. I think I care about the earth too much to let you destroy it more.”

“I do like a man who cares about the environment.”

“Would it be too soon to say that showering together saves water?”

“It’s not too soon, but that is definitely not true. Plus, shower sex is totally overrated.”

“If you say so,” Killian hums before he quickly slants his lips over hers once again, a fleeting kiss if she’s ever felt one. “Remind me to never let you house sit for me ever again.”

Killian doesn’t ever ask her to housesit for him again, but it doesn’t really count as housesitting when you live in the same house. This new one is on the beach, so beach scented candles aren’t necessary. It doesn’t matter anyways. All of their house plants are fake now.

As if she couldn’t set one of those on fire.

(They do shower together, and it definitely does not preserve water.)

#cs fic #cs ff

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doodlelolly0910 · 6 years

Text

The Way Back to You

Chapter 5

Summary: Killian & Emma were childhood sweethearts but fell apart after he received orders for a military tour in Afghanistan. Injury caused him to leave the service & seven years later, Emma returned back to their hometown as a result of a tragedy. Will they be able to fall back in love with each other or has too much damage been done? Rated M for marijuana use, language, and eventual smut.

A/N: Hi again! Here is another one of my WIP's with a preview of the most recent chapter and a link to the full story below so I don't clog up y'alls dashes cuz I'm on mobile lol. I'm hoping to have everything moved over to AO3 in the next week or so as well. I'm excited for the transition! But for now, you can find the rest of this chapter, the whole story, and all my other works on FFN under doodlelolly0910. Huge shoutout to my amazing beta @kmomof4 who is the very bestest and as always, thanks for reading, reblogging, and reviewing!

It turned out that small town policing was exactly as Emma expected it to be. People waved and smiled when she was out on patrol. She spent a lot of time enforcing city ordinances, rather than hunting down criminals. She broke up a single bar fight that resulted in Mary Margaret's Uncle Leroy spending the evening in a jail cell, only to be released the next day with a promise to behave. She was greeted by name when people saw her on the street or in a store. It was quiet. It was peaceful. Her first week was an overall success.

But unfortunately, policing a small town also meant dealing with the small town gossip. Lord, she'd almost forgotten.

Spending her teenage years as one of the only foster children in the entire town of Storybrooke, she had learned very quickly how to let rumors and whispers roll off her back. When she left for New York with Neal, she had gained a level of anonymity that was refreshing after spending so long with everyone's nose in her business. She was invisible, but in a good way. She had gotten a little too comfortable with it, apparently. Even though she was aware of the constant scrutiny she was subject to since her return to town and subsequent arrest, even she didn't see what happened that Friday coming.

READ THE REST OF THIS CHAPTER AND ALL OTHER CHAPTERS HERE:

Story: The Way Back To You

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12622198/1/The-Way-Back-To-You

#cs pining #cs ff au #cs ff #captain swan #csff #The Way Back to You #TWBTY #doodlelolly0910

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darkcolinodonorgasm · 5 years

Note

Wereleopard Killian Enchanted Forest AU — protector, pet, and passionate lover of princess Emma, with a lovely collar at all times too, but not a leash (except when they want one 😏). Rated E. Please and thank you. 😁 (I don’t have the attention span or words to write it, but I will most definitely be daydreaming about it, so thank you for that train of thought.)

A/N: beloved Nonny, you created a monster. Thank you! This is one I came to love the most: I’m really proud of it, especially because I feel it’s good smut. Phew. Writing smut is really, really hard, but this? This was something else altogether.

I want to thank you, Nonny, for giving me the chance to write it. I fear you wanted sub!Killian, but given his nature and my tendencies, I ended up making him a dom, instead. I really hope you won’t mind this liberty I took.

A huge, HUGE thank you goes to @hollyethecurious for betaing this piece. You are AMAZING and you bested me in my own fic :’D Great minds lol Thank you, Hollye, for being there when I fucked up with my phone I had to stare at the page for a few minutes before understanding what I wanted to say. Ops?

Another thank you goes to @sherlockianwhovian and @doodlelolly0910 who let me talk about this little thing. You have no idea how much you helped, lovelies :3

I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Summary: They say the crowning ceremony is an unforgettable experience in a Princess’ life, but Emma has been Queen for so long the only thing she looks forward is the end of the coronation ball and the night of passion she knows she will spend in her lover’s arms, the same lover who always, always watches over her even in leopard form. After all, Emma has never been a regular Princess, and she has no intention of changing that.

Rating: E

Words: ~8.5k

Read on ff.net - ao3

Night of the Hunter

He can smell her fromafar.

He can smell her scent,her sweet, delicate perfume that permeates her flushed skin and tangles in hergolden hair, curls tumbling down her back, bouncing ever so slightly with everygraceful step she takes.

He can smell the oil sheuses during her baths, just like he can smell the soap she rubs over her body,over her collarbone and down between the valley of her plump breasts, acrossher taut stomach; a fertile field of blooming roses that envelopes her with itsscent.

He can smell the sweatjust beneath her hairline, the fatigue of keeping the books balanced over herhead as she walks in circles around the room.

He can smell herannoyance even, her boredom, because all she wants is to not be forced toattend these stupid lessons. She’d claim her posture is perfect as it is, andhe would wholeheartedly agree. After all, he’s traced her spine many, manytimes, whether it was with his eyes roaming hungrily over her figure or withhis fingers as they followed the path down her back as they basked in the afterglowor, again, with his tongue, making her writhe beneath him as he tortured her inthe most delicious way.

He can smell her arousal,faint at the moment, but omnipresent, dampening her undergarments - that is,when she’s bothered with them - and dripping down her milky thighs, slick heat,an inebriating nectar he can never get enough of.

Inside the pavillon Emma sighs, a long exhale thatpreceded the thumping of books on the marble floor.

Were he able to laugh inhis actual form, Killian would’ve chuckled warmly, no matter if she would glareat him. Emma knows he wouldn’t be laughing at her, but at how cute she is whenflustered.

Her shoulders slump inwhat looks like defeat and his senses go on high alert: his Swan is not one tobe easily defeated.

Raising from his hidingplace in the garden, not too far away from the pavillon yet enough not to be noticed, Killian stretches hismuscular feline body, back bowing as he does so, claws digging into the soil.

Slowly, almost lazily, hemakes his way to the building, eyes still on his princess but ready to shift toany danger that may find its way - and, ultimately its demise - into the royalgardens.

Emma’s tutor has yet toleave the pavillon when Killian comesinside, invisible until he stands almost at the center of the room, the longwhite curtains blowing beside him like sails.

The tutor, an uptightwoman - nay, a fairy - whose name isBlue, winces at the sight of him. Though she was the one to find him and askfor his services, the woman, even after all these years, has yet to get used tohis presence. It’s a good thing everyone else reacts that way when they’rearound him, whether he is in leopard or human form.

That is, everyone but thewoman standing with her fists clenched at her sides.

Ignoring the fairy completely,Killian saunters towards Emma, her form shaking ever so slightly, though itwould appear quite still to human eyes.

With a low, gutturalgrowl, he nudges her hand with his wet nose, teeth nibbling at the soft skin onthe outer side of her hand. Immediately, her body is consumed with musicallaughter. Killian remembers very well the first time he heard her laugh, whendark days weren’t over yet, looming over them and their growing bond like athreat.

The fury he can smell on her subsides, becoming just afaint memory as relief and happiness wash over her.

Ignoring the fairy’sshocked gasp, Emma gathers her skirts and plops down on the floor, gown flaringaround her. She shifts a bit more and he hears the soft thump of her shoesbeing discarded.

Nudging the skirt withhis huge paw - he doesn’t have a death wish despite his lack of control when inhuman form, although the many torn clothes would suggest otherwise - Killianthen settles down next to her, head resting on her lap.

Immediately, Emma’s handsfly over him, one to scratch behind his ear and the other over his ribs,fingers spread so she can feel his strong heartbeat, so she can make sure it’sstill there.

All Killian can do isbury his head into her lap, showing his princess he’s there, that he’s aliveand he’s not going to go anywhere. He is a survivor, after all.

After minutes of silencein which he registers their heartbeats, the chirping of the birds outside, theway the leaves brush against each other, the distant chatting of the servantshurrying to prepare the most magnificent ball for their princess’ birthday,Emma finally speaks.

«Do you think anyonewould notice if I made her disappear?»

Twisting his neck to lookher in the eyes, Killian instinctively arches a brow. He knows, Emma told himmany times, that even if he doesn’t have regular eyebrows, he still looks as ifhe’s doing it, his muzzle more expressive than he ever thought it was. Manythings he discovered were more sincehe met his Swan.

«Just for a bit?» sheasks, capturing the corner of her lower lip with her teeth. His blue eyes -such a peculiar colour, not belonging to actual leopards unless they are snowones - darken at that, and a low growl resonates in the back of his throat. Heshould be ashamed of such animalistic reactions, but the twitch at the cornersof Emma’s mouth make him ignore such trifles. «You’d better stay by my side allevening, or I swear I’ll strangle someone.»

The sound he makes soundsvery much like a guffaw.

Emma gently but firmlysmacks his forehead. «Don’t laugh, or you’ll be the one getting strangled.» Athis mocking expression she adds, «And not in the good way.»

With a growl, Killianbares his fangs.

During his time as herprotector he’s been threatened, put in danger over and over, and sometimes evenon the brink of death, but none of those situations ever instilled fear in himas much as any threat falling from Emma’s lips or made towards her does.

With a heartfelt laugh,Emma leans forward and scratches that spot behind his ear, the same that madehis tail take off at top speed, completely uncontrolled. Killian huffs, or thefeline equivalent for it.

On a whim, he reaches outwith his head and licks the ticklish spot on her neck, the one he loves to rubhis stubble over whenever he’s in human form.

The genuine laugh thatbubbles up her throat is payment enough for him: no treasure he ever pillagedand plundered is worth losing the privilege to make her laugh.

-/-

Even in human form he cansmell her.

Tonight, however, hertrue scent is masked by perfumes she decided to pour in her bath - a bath hedidn’t partake in, much to his disappointment. It makes his nose twitch so muchhe fears he’ll start sneezing like that bloody dwarf. It’s not a bad scent, farfrom it, he’s simply not used to it, to Emma hiding herself so.

To be completely fair,Killian understands why she tries to shield herself from every person shemeets.

Just as she asked, hestands next to her in human form, clad in his best leathers, the clothes Emmaprefers to see him in if he really needsto put them on. His princess does have a dark side, and Killian is perhaps atad too proud of being the one who made her discover it.

Tonight, the night of theball held in honour of her coronation as queen, Emma is radiant.

It’s not the crownresting atop her blonde hair, its diamonds capturing the light, just like it’snot the way her skin has been scrubbed so it would appear as white as snow:it’s Emma herself.

For years, as theybattled the Evil Queen side by side, she’s doubted herself and hercapabilities, fearing she wouldn’t be able to take Regina down and that shewould ultimately disappoint her people.

Killian knows what shemeant, what she still means, because it’s a fear both of them, much like everyother leader, has, but buries deep within themselves, wishing they could justforget about it, and when they do, it comes back in a rush like a tidal wave,drowning them. Now that they are together, however, the tide doesn’t seem asstrong as it once did.

Emma’s joy is not forced,she’s not wearing a mask, though she does wear her own armor, knowing all toowell most of the people she met are either trying to grant themselves amarriage or grant one for their sons.

Not for the first timethat night Emma has to talk him out of the idea of shifting and painting thefloor blood red. He would’ve helped clean up, but apparently his jealousywasn’t worth a war. The smell of her arousal every time his role in her life isquestioned and he growls so lowly only she can hear him, arm tighteningpossessively around her waist, is enough to quench his thirst for blood.

As for the thirst for herbody, well, during the evening he had to talk himself - and his cock - downfrom dragging her into one of the secluded alcoves and have his way with her.

After the last speech isgiven and the remaining suitors have been indirectly warned to take the bestoption and not make fools of themselves, the queen and her pirate share apassionate kiss on the dance floor and Emma finally, finally allows him - she would always deny she begged him - to take her to bed.

When the mourning periodended, Emma had to move into the queen’s apartments, the ones Killian is veryfamiliar with, having become his own as well. Unofficially, that is. Aftertonight, though, he’s not so sure. Not that he really cares.

«Wait,» Emma gaspsagainst his lips just inside their quarters, back pressed against the coldstony wall. Her right hand leaves Killian’s crumpled shirt to fly to her crown,meaning to take it off.

«Leave. It. On.» hegrowls menacingly, fingers digging almost painfully into her back, ready totear the crimson fabric from her body if she even thinks about rebelling.

He doesn’t have to fear:the glint in her eyes is as bright as the diamonds she’s wearing.

Emma licks her lips. «Youwant to kneel for your queen, pet?»

A shudder runs down hisspine, cock twitching in his now too tight leather pants. An itch creeps up hisneck as he recalls all too well the sensation of the leather collar she lovesto fasten around it when she is the one in charge, tugging at it with thematching leash wrapped around one wrist while the other is enveloped by herwhip. Though he knows things won’t change, Emma referring to herself as hisqueen instead of princess make his knees buckle.

Tonight, however, Emmawon’t be in charge at all.

«I want the queen tokneel for the captain.»

He can feel her breathhitch in her throat and a quiet gasp leaves her swollen lips. Gulping, Emmafollows his order, not struggling in the least. Killian knows what it means, heknows what his lover wants: she wants to be dominated, to surrender the powershe holds and represents and give it to him.

Around her, the gownpools like a sea of silk, the way she looks up at him with those big, jadeeyes, no matter how hungry for him they appear, makes her look so innocent. Thecrown on her head, slightly askew, is the last straw.

Unbeknownst to her, she is in full command even whenshe thinks she’s relinquishing it to him, something Killian had to getused to after he met Emma, but not uncomfortable at all.

He smiles a lazy smile,hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Beneath the tips of hisfingers, Killian can feel her heart thrumming in her veins as he trails themslowly down her throat.

Emma waits, hands on herthighs, visibly itching to undo the laces of his leather pants and find thetreasure inside. But Killian is nothing but methodical, capable of turning intoa terrible torturer when the situation calls for it. He would never hurt Emma,he’d die first, take his own life if he even thought he would be her demise,but push her to her limits? Definitely.

His thumb traces herthroat, up to her chin and then to her mouth, where he skims the kiss-bruisedlower lip. He can feel her hot, laboured breath on his skin, the moist tip ofher tongue mere inches away, certainly dying to taste him but not daring to doso: Emma knows better.

There’s no scenario, noneed to talk about her as if it’s the first time they’ve met, it’s the samegame they always engage in, just with different titles and a crown on one’shead this time. One day, Killian knows he’ll have to wear one, but for now he’srather happy with Emma wearing what is rightfully hers yet submitting to himstill.

«Come on, lass,» hetaunts her, voice low as he looks down at her with hooded eyes, «don’t be shy.I don’t bite too hard. And only to bring pleasure.»

No, it’s not true, whenhe bites he’s capable of taking a life, and they both know it. It’s a matter oftrust, because she trusts him never to hurt her, whether he’s in human form ornot.

The flash of amusement inher eyes and the way her lips twitch almost makes him break into a laugh.

Tentatively, brushing herringed fingers up his legs, the heat of them perceptible through his leatherpants, Emma reaches the laces at the front and wraps one around her indexfingers. Biting her lip so she won’t smile, she tugs at it a little, withouthowever undoing the knot.

Killian groans infrustration.

In full command, indeed, he muses, fingertips instinctively digging into herchin as her own run over his clothed cock.

Emma undoes the laces,opening his pants to free his throbbing member. Killian gulps as her warmfingers wrap around the heated flesh. She pumps her hand up and down, slowly,thumb smearing precum over the tip, making him hiss through clenched teeth.However, she doesn’t take him in her mouth: he hasn’t ordered her to… yet.

«Good girl,» he purrs,taking pleasure in the way her expression shifts: she’s proud of herself, andnot because she knows his knees are getting weaker by the moment, but becauseof his praise. Killian smiles. «Open.»

Her mouth falls openimmediately, but slowly, sensually.

Covering her smaller handwith his, Killian shifts closer, warm breath blowing over the sensitive skin onthe head of his cock. «I want your lips wrapped around me, love. I want you tosuck me until I tell you to stop.»

Without hesitating, Emmatakes him in her mouth, tongue pressing over that spot under his cock, making him moan.

Killian tilts his headback, eyes closed in pleasure at the feeling of Emma’s hot mouth sucking himoff. The way her tongue swirls around the tip, sweeping onto the seam atop ofit, makes him groan and his knees threaten to give out. It’s only by sheerforce of will that he keeps himself on his feet, even when Emma hollows hercheeks around him, sucking hard.

His hand flies to herhair, freeing the golden locks from the pins that fall on the floor around her,but Emma doesn’t stop working her magic, wrapping her hand around the part ofhis cock she can’t take in her mouth. Not tonight, at least.

In the past, his queensurprised him with her capabilities, both in and out of their bedchambers. Heloves the fact that, even after years, she can still surprise him.

She knows she doesn’thave his permission to make him come, this is no seduction game by any means.Not from her part, at least. This is no worshipping night, not the sweet kindthat has him murmur praises into her skin until she’s a quivering mess and cancome from the sound of his words alone. Not that tonight he won’t worship her,of course, but Emma is not in need of sweet words: she’s craving dominance,pure lust that will ignite every inch of her body just as it will his.

From his height, Killianlooks down at Emma, her eyes never wavering from his face. He knows, though:she’s shifted slightly on her knees, probably to press her thighs together.

He squints slightly,wondering whether or not to punish her for that. Usually, he would, but he didn’ttell her not to move at all. What he can do, however, is make sure she’s not going to repeat thegesture again for a while.

A wicked smile spreadsacross his face; beneath his mask of cruelty the passion is threatening toovercome him too soon.

«Stop.»

Perfectly masking herreluctance, Emma pulls away from him, her fingers still wrapped around his hotflesh.

Roughly enough to exciteher, but tender enough not to hurt, Killian drags her up by her hair. Thanks toher heels, she’s almost as tall as he is, eyes boring into his. It doesn’tmatter how long they’ve been together, there’s still a spark of innocence inher eyes; he’s glad he didn’t take it away from her by coming into her life.

He wants to kiss herthoroughly, to sweep her off her feet, but he’ll get the chance to do so soonenough. Kiss her, that is. For tonight, he’s happy enough with turning heraround and pressing her back against his solid chest. He bites back a hiss atthe feeling of her skirt against his throbbing cock.

He doesn’t want to tearher dress, and as much as he would gladly look forward to her revenge, the gownis one he would love to save from his ruthless hunger.

His nails dig into herskin, so much he leaves red marks on her shoulders as he drags the sleeves downher arms, her bosom jutting out, the valley between her breasts so tempting,inviting him to pour oils and honey down her chest, or to cover it with hisseed.

The thought - and memoryof the times in which he’s partaken in said fantasy - is almost enough to makehim come undone on the spot.

Restraining himself fromlicking a path from her shoulder up her neck, Killian finds the laces at theback of the dress, carefully hidden from prying eyes, and unfastens them. Thegown almost falls apart as he tugs at the ribbons, Emma’s free arm going tosupport it and keep it pressed against her chest. It only takes a growl fromKillian to make her move it and for the dress to fall in a heap at her feet.

The sight of her in hershift and stockings, not to mention the corset pushing her breasts higher, issomething he would love to capture in a drawing. One day, he’ll ask her to posefor him again, perhaps in the same clothes, but definitely with the crown onher head.

Killian gulps, the factthat her undergarments are snow white, making him sweat. Bloody hell, shehasn’t radiated so much innocence since their first time together.

He looms over her, nosebrushing her hair, nostrils filling of her scent. With one thick finger hetraces a line down the side of her neck and across her chest, just above theheavy necklace she’s worn all day long. His eyes narrow. Yes, she would be asuch a sight tied up the way he wants her to, wearing only the precious jewelryhe once used to steal from queens like her.

«Undress yourself.»

The shock is clear on herface, her expression bewildered as if he had just poured a bucket of icy waterover her. The malicious smile on his lips only widens further.

With trembling hands anda sharp intake, Emma obeys.

Slowly, she unties thecorset as instructed, her breasts bouncing slightly as she frees them, nipplesstraining against the sheer material of her shift.

Instinctively, he lickshis lips, almost tasting her on histongue, and wondering, not for the first time, what her milk would taste like. It’s a thought he’s been toyingwith a tad too much lately, one he knows neither Emma or himself is ready toface, not when the kingdom is still fragile. Besides, Killian may have inquiredabout the length of engagements when it comes to royals of Emma’s status and hecan’t really allow himself to put a bastard in her belly. Whatever child theywould be lucky to be blessed with would be born well into their marriage: hewon’t risk any of them to be cast out from uptight royals, no matter what couldbecome of him.

There would be time forthat in the future, much like for the marriage proposal he’s planning to askonce in Arendelle in six months time.

Though part of his mindmight have wandered off towards unexplored paths, Killian’s attention is stillon Emma, following her lithe form walk towards the bed. Once she’s facing oneside of it, the side that usually starts off as hers - though ultimately sheends up occupying all the mattress whilst sprawled over him - Emma slips onefoot from her heeled shoes, the movement slow as she bends her knee and bringsher toes to rest on the mattress.

Deliberately slowly, shebrushes her fingers over the thin material of the stocking, up to hermid-thigh, where it ends in a strip of lace. The hem of her short shift hasridden up her thigh, cascading down her hip and baring more of her creamy skinto Killian’s eyes.

She’s pulled her lowerlip between her teeth, something she knows makes him go mad with lust given theinnocence of the gesture. Without looking at him, she slips her thumbs beneaththe lace, slowly pushing the stocking off.

Unconsciously, Killianhas taken himself in hand, pumping up and down his cock in the slow rhythmshe’s set for undressing herself. He knows he has to stop, and he will, soon,he won’t come now, but the sight is so erotic he can’t just look at her and donothing, especially not when every inch of skin bared pushes him towards theedge.

She doesn’t throw thestocking at him, not tonight, at least, and proceeds to take off the other one.When her other leg is naked, too, Emma turns to face him with eyes downcast,her fingers going to her shoulder to toy with the thin strap of her shiftbefore letting it slip down her arm. She does the same to the other one and shelooks like sin incarnate as she stands with the thin material almost hangingfrom her breasts like one of those models portrayed in once banished portraits.

It takes another slightpull on the laces at the front of the neckline for the shift to open furtherand slide down her body, finally leaving her naked in front of him.

For a moment, Killiancannot even remember his own name as he’s washed over by her beauty like atidal wave hitting the rocks.

She’s almost ethereal inthe faint glow of the candles around them, rosy nipples darker as they strainagainst the slight chill of the evening coming in from the open windows. Withhungry eyes, Killian follows an invisible path down her taut stomach to where agolden treasure lies. He should’ve known she wasn’t wearing undergarments, hisnaughty queen.

Forcing himself not tothrow her on the bed and tongue her into oblivion before burying himself sodeep inside her he would lose what little sanity he’s clung to, Killian tuckshimself away, grimacing at the discomfort. He’s still fully dressed, whichmakes his proximity to Emma even more erotic.

«On the bed, face up,»Killian whispers in her ear, nose almost brushing her cheekbone but not quite,taunting her and tormenting himself at the same time.

Licking her lips, Emmacomplies, hands resting at her sides. He can see visions of nights past, nightson which he feasted on her, dipping fruits in the whipped cream adorning hernipples in a swirl and lapping at the dark rivulets of melted chocolate coatingher whole body. Delicious.

Looking at her, Killianmakes sure she isn’t uncomfortable wearing her crown in that position, but sheseems relaxed, surely trying to prepare herself for what’s to come. He hideshis grin from her as he slowly walks to the old, tall dresser only they havethe key for in the form of the cross and skull charm hanging from a chainaround his neck. As for Emma, she has a matching charm mounted on a ring shenever slips off her right index finger.

Knowing she’s looking athim, Killian takes his time discarding the heavy leather coat, leaving it onthe chaise longue, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt, straining the thinmaterial.

From one of the topdrawers, he takes leather bonds, the material creaking softly as he wraps themaround his hand. He won’t blindfold nor gag her, only torture her a bit.

Keeping the restraintsout of her line of sight, Killian moves to the foot of the bed where he standsfor a minute, watching her, absorbing the heavenly vision of her willing bodyinto his mind.

Gently but firmly, hegrabs her ankle, slowly wrapping the strap around it and fastening it tightenough to slightly bite into her skin but not enough to hurt her or leave anindelible mark. Only Killian was allowed to mark her forever.

After securing her leftankle to the bedpost and relishingin the way her thighs part, showing him her glistening center, Killian moves tothe head of the bed where he proceeds to wrap the bindings around her wristsjoined above her head, arms stretched and trembling.

Once he’s tied theleather strap to the carved headboard, one they’d commissioned just for thatusage more than an aesthetic need, Killian speaks again.

«You’re not allowed tomove or make a sound. I won’t blindfold or gag you: restraining yourself iscompletely up to you.»

It’s almost therapeutic,he’d dare say, especially given his upbringing, the way he and Liam have beenused as slaves and trained like animals after they first presented as weres.Killian doesn’t do this to make Emma suffer, he’d kill himself with his ownbare hands before harming her, but he enjoys - they both do - the sexual aspectof the torture. The Cricket would probably enlighten them on their psyche, butneither Killian nor Emma desire to speak of their sexual preferences with him.

Methodically, Killiangoes back and forth between the bed and the dresser, laying down the items hewants to torture her with and a brand new bottle of peach and opium scentedoil, one of the latest creations of Sultana Jasmine.

The first thing he picksup is a peacock feather, tracing her forearm first, down towards her neck wherehe knows she can’t stand being touched from something that isn’t his nose orlips. There’s a sharp intake; Killian almost pouts when she doesn’t move norgasps. He’s trained her well, but that’s not just his own merit: Emma has beenknown to be stubborn as hell.

Nothing can stop thesmirk of delight curling his mouth as she thrashes slightly when the featherteases her pert nipples. Immediately, he pulls his arm away, rejoicing in theway she bites down on her lower lip to stop herself from screaming infrustration.

He awaits in silence, notmoving at all from where he stands, eyes roaming over Emma’s body as her breathgoes back to a regular rhythm. When he’s sure she’s ready to take more, Killianlowers the feather back where it was before.

More than once shebreaks, the feather’s pressure too much and not enough at the same time,especially when Killian avoids her mound, using the tip of his tortureinstrument to just brush over the goldhair there. At that, Emma cries out, making him stop for seventy-nine seconds.Counting is a method as good as any to keep himself sane.

Killian knows when to bemagnanimous, deciding not to tickle the soles of her feet: there’s only so muchEmma can bear.

Yet, that doesn’t stophim from casting the feather aside in order to take another item from where itlies between Emma’s spread feet.

The middlemist’s petalsare both a blessing and another circle of hell to Emma, Kilian knows it fromthe way her eyes shut close, throat moving oh so sensually when she gulps. Hehas to block out the flood of images of his cock bulging in her throat with himlooking down at her, sometimes applying a slight pressure. His Emma is not justa queen, she’s a goddess.

This time, he does tickleher feet, biting back a laugh when she crosses her toes: it still is amovement, therefore he can’t continue for several more seconds.

The path he traces isunlike the one he followed with the feather, and so are his movements and the pressurehe applies. Licking his lips, he twirls the flower over her aching nipples, thewhimper she emits so low even he has trouble hearing it. For a moment, hecontemplates whether or not to stop, but he’ll put her out of her misery soonenough. Therefore, he stops, Emma’s whine music to his ears.

Back and forth he dragsthe flower up her legs, this time allowing himself to dip it between herthighs, tracing her folds and collecting her nectar as it drips onto the bed.Like the bastard that he is, Killian then brings the flower to his nose,inhaling deeply, all the while keeping his eyes locked with Emma’s. She gulpsaudibly, her whole body trembling slightly.

Smiling evilly, he placesthe glistening flower back in the vase from whence he took it.

Taking his time, Killiansits down on the bed, back to Emma, and slips his boots off, standing thenbarefoot to place them near the dresser. Knowing her eyes are following himonce more, Killian takes off his vest, twisting around slightly to roll thesleeves up his forearms, muscles flexing and tattoos almost coming alive on hisskin.

The next item he picks upis the bottle of scented oil, relishing in the way Emma’s eyes widen. Beingtickled is one thing, she knows he can stop the touch of any other item when itbecomes too much, but liquid? That he cannot stop.

He opens the bottle,breathing in the rich scent of the opium perfectly mixed with the sweet andfresh aroma of peaches. Jasmine knows him well.

Settling with one kneebent beneath himself, Killian reaches out with one hand and brushes dampstrands of hair away from her sweaty brow. Her bright eyes are shining withcomplicity and excitement. Killian almost kisses her, but he’s learned not tobreak the rules of his own game.

Silently, Killian tipsthe bottle, one thumb over the opening so only a few droplets fall on thehollow of her neck, the liquid sloshing at her every breath. He moves his thumba little, allowing a thin trickle of oil to coat the valley between herbreasts.

Blue eyes watch as therivulet descends down her sternum and stomach as Emma arches her back.

Killian tuts, clickinghis tongue. Emma’s eyes bore into his, begging him to let her move. His onlyanswer is another tip of the bottle over her belly button. She sucks in herstomach making the oil pool in the hollow she created only to slide down theside of her waist when she exhales.

Still holding herpleading gaze, Killian moves his arm back, until she shuts her eyes close and asob leaves her tormented lips. His smile widens as he looks back to where hishand is suspended over Emma’s center, the oil drenching her pubic hair anddripping down her sensitive folds, mixing with her juices, and onto the bed.Neither of them ever cared about the mess.

Killian can’t help butlook at her, admiring the way she’s hungrily staring at him, how her eyessparkle with raw need, a need he plans to satisfy soon enough. He just has totorment her a little longer.

Allowing Emma a fewmoments to collect herself, Killian stands, placing the bottle on the small roundtable next to the bed where a pile of books sits next to an intricatecandelabra.

As he pads back to thedresser, Killian lifts his shirt from the back, exposing the black ink there,lines and curves tracing the form of a ship surrounded by a kraken’s tentacles,its hull transformed into a skull from whose mouth the tentacles seem to comeout, curling around different parts of the ship, one of them tightly holdingonto the anchor.

It reminds Killian of thefate of many ships, their inept captains too proud to back off when faced withthe terror of the seas. It’s not just a reminder, however, it’s part of hisstory, of who he is, and he particularly loves the way Emma’s fingers trace theblack lines. She seems to be in love with his tattoos as much as she is in lovewith him, and Killian can’t keep his heart from bursting with deep joy at thethought.

From another drawer,Killian takes out a scented candle, carefully hiding it from Emma with hisbody. Using one of the candles hanging near his head, he lights up the one inhis hand, the whiff of vanilla filling his nostrils.

Emma gasps at the sightof the burning candle, eyes darkening and body quivering. Playing with wax issomething new for her, something she enjoys very much, but never in her darkestthoughts she ever thought tonight would involve it. She’s glad Killian canstill surprise her.

Her eyes follow him as heplaces the candle on the table next to the oil, letting it burn and melt. Nospeaking still, he reaches the foot of the bed once more, deftly undoing theleather bindings, fingers massaging her ankles to stimulate the circulation. Itstings, and Emma’s face scrunches in discomfort.

A loud yelp echoes in theroom as Killian grabs her ankles and lifts her from the bed, twisting herroughly in the air and letting her fall face down on the bed. He doesn’t waitfor her to catch her breath, swatting her ass hard; the hand-shaped imprint heleaves on her cheek tinting a delicious red.

«You can talk, now, but Iadvise you don’t move too much,» Killian tells her gently, brushing her damphair away from her flushed face and shoulders. She’s smiling, humming indelight, almost purring, at the way he brushes his knuckles over her cheek.

Emma hisses in pleasurewhen the first drop of candle wax drips onto her skin, right between hershoulder blades, and down, creating a thin line to the center of her back, waxgathering into the dip of her spine.

«How is that?» Killianasks huskily, trusting Emma to use her safeword if she doesn’t feelcomfortable.

Emma sighs, content.«Wonderful.» The sound turns into a moan when Killian tips the candle once moreand slowly traces his name on her back, temporarily branding her as his. Helowers himself over her, close enough for her to sense his closeness but far enoughnot to let the wax coat his chest hair.

More decorations follow,swirls, flowers, an anchor on her right buttock, even. It makes her giggle, thesound melting into low moans whenever he pours more wax on her. This is as muchas some kind of foreplay as it is a way to care for her.

The last act consists ina drizzle of wax poured on her lower back, creating an intricate design ofcurved lines going from one hip to the other and finishing with a fat drop inthe hollow between her buttocks. Killian is careful not to let it slip lower,but he swats her clean cheek before bending down to bite it. Hard.

«Fuck!» Emma screams,quivering under him, arms straining against her bonds as she arches her back.

Killian grins, sucking amark beneath the divots of his teeth. When he rises up to his knees on the bed,he takes his time to admire his handiwork, the wax a special one that doesn’tharden right away.

«Wonderful,» Killianmurmurs to himself, setting the still-burning candle down on the table, lettingits scent fill the room. Slowly, he takes off his pants, cock hard and bobbingagainst his stomach. Grabbing the bottle of scented oil, Killian goes back tothe bed, kneeling over it and sitting back on his haunches.

«Up on your knees, love.»

The order is followed ina second, Emma scrambling to her knees, keeping them wide and exposing herselfto him. Killian groans at the sight of her sex, her folds slick with her juicesand the oil he poured over her earlier. His self-control about to slip, Killianstrokes himself to keep himself from spilling his seed too soon.

Arse in the air, cuntspread in front of his hungry eyes, back coated in vanilla wax and, cherry ontop, the shining crown over her head, Emma is the most delectable of banquets.He bends forward, he can’t help it, he needs to taste her.

«Gods, Killian,» Emma cries the moment histongue connects with her sex, thighs quivering and hips bucking towards hisface, her self-control long gone by now.

It takes her a few slipsof his tongue to make her come, and Killian can’t help the grin curling hislips. «My beautiful queen,» he praises her. «So needy. Someone would think youenjoy being toyed with, being tormented. Someone would say you even love thepain.»

Emma whimpers at hiswords: they hit her like a surge of magic in contrast to the deafening silenceshe’s had to endure until now. Killian knows how much his voice turns her on,how his rough and deep tone can set her aflame with the shortest word and howhis praises can take her over the edge of pleasure in no time at all.

All the new ways in whichhe uses this knowledge is what excites Emma the most, she loves to explore hersexuality, her body, and Killian is honoured she’s chosen him to learn her ownsecrets.

Not hearing any replycoming from her mouth, Killian threads his fingers through her loose locks andpulls. Hard. «Answer me, love,» he growls in her ear, cock nestled between herbuttocks oh so deliciously he has to bite the inside of his cheek not to justtake her.

«I am! I do!» Emmawhimpers, hips swaying as she tries to rub herself against Killian, to obtainthat friction she desperately craves.

A loud smacking sound andthe sting on her arse warns her not to move. Had it been another type of night,she would’ve disobeyed him only to be punished. For tonight, she’s sufferedenough, and Killian, too, can’t wait to be buried inside of her.

The way she’s pulledupright allows her to use her hands to keep herself steady when needed, theleather straps digging painfully but deliciously into her skin.

Killian’s fingers wraparound her throat, pulling her back almost to his chest. «You are perfect.»Love bites are left in her skin, a trail going from her neck to her shoulder.There’s a wicked grin on his face that Emma can’t see when he brings the bottleof scented oil in front of her. «Open.»

If she’s surprised by hisorder, she doesn’t show it at all, body still trembling.

Once he makes sure herlips are parted enough, Killian brings the bottle to her lips. «Hold it.»

Angling her head so shewon’t accidentally drink it, Emma does as she’s told, lush lips wrapping aroundthe glass neck. Killian is almost thankful he doesn’t have a good view for hemight very well burst by the sight of it.

«Good girl,» he purrs inher ear before lining himself up and pushing inside her in a smooth, hardthrust. Their twin groans echo against the walls, Emma’s walls tighteningaround Killian like a vice, almost threatening to send him over the edge toosoon.

She’s so hot around him,her core like molten lava welcoming him so easily it really feels likereturning home. Emma feels like home.

Swiftly, Killian takesthe bottle from her mouth, allowing her to breathe and gasp when he pours theoil down her neck and back, its rich scent, mixed with the vanilla one of thecandle and the one that’s simply Emmathreatens to take over what little rationality he has left.

He can feel the oilpooling where his pelvis is flush against her arse, the wax slowly beingdragged down her back. Roughly, he pushes her face down on the mattress, hishand slipping from her hair and down her neck as the other throws the now emptybottle somewhere in the room where it falls - thankfully - on a carpet with adull thud. Fingers dance over her skin, kneading the flesh in a ravenousmassage, the feeling of the melting wax beneath his fingers and the oilytexture of the perfumed liquid an unfamiliar one when he’s used to touching herdirectly, to feel her skin right beneath his.

Emma cries out louderthan before when he thrusts roughly inside of her, her walls clenching sotightly he would’ve been brought to his knees had he been standing. Up and downhis hands trail, squeezing her cheeks and hips to bring her closer.

«C-captain,» Emma stuttersbetween pants, letting him know she’s about to come.

«So soon?» Killian tsks,grinding himself into her, the head of his cock bumping into her cervix. Emmascreams but he doesn’t slow down, buttocks clenching with every thrust andpleasure pooling at the base of his spine. He can’t let go, not now, not yet.

Emma’s climax is sopowerful he can hear her voice break even if her face is buried in the blanketsas her walls clamp down around him repeatedly, dragging him even deeper.

She’s still a shiveringmess, yet Killian doesn’t stop, fingers threading through her hair and pullingher back flush to his chest, hips snapping up with a sound smack against herflesh. His mouth descends upon her neck, sucking dark marks there as his handsglide up her stomach to her plump and heavy breasts, cupping them, tweaking andplucking the hard nubs just to make her moan loudly in ecstasy.

Their skin is sweaty andcovered in both oil and wax, surely making a mess of the bed, but neither ofthem cares, too lost in the throes of passion and in one another to be able toacknowledge anything else outside the way their bodies and souls are connected.

From her bruised neck,Killian trails his lips up to her ear, biting the tender lobe. Emma’s hips snapback with force, making him groan inpleasure, cock twitching inside her. He’s too close, and he knows she is, too,but he’s not done with her. Too bad there’s not a mirror in front of them. Yet,he can still see her in his mind, and his hand can see for him, too.

«I wish I could see you,my queen, see how you look so debauched with your ancestors’ crown askew onyour head,» Killian rasps low in her ear, one hand keeping her upright as hekeeps moving inside her while the other traces her collarbones from oneextremity to another, «I wish I could see the blush on your skin, from yourround cheeks and down, down over your chest. There I would admire yourmagnificent breasts.» He weighs one soft mound in his palm, rolling the nipplebetween his fingers, the keening sound that leaves Emma’s lips is music asangelic as a siren’s call. «I’d love to see your stomach tremble,» Killiancontinues, the knuckles of his other hand slowly trailing down her stomachbefore he grins against the shell of her ear, tongue peeking out to trace it ashe presses his palm right over he can feel himself buried inside her. Emmagasps for air, hands pulling at her restraints. «Do you feel it, my queen? Doyou feel how deep I am inside of you?» He can’t help but press his hand harderagainst the bulge his cock creates with every thrust.

«Killian!» Emma screams, lungs begging for air. «Please!»

But Killian only shakeshis head, damp strands of hair tickling her cheek. «How long will it take me,love? How many flicks of my fingers over your precious pearl will it take me tobring you over the edge? Or will you only need a slight brush over it?»

Of course, he neverplanned on going easy on her, on justbrushing her clit, nay: he trails middle and index fingers down her abdomen tothe hard bundle of nerves, flicking it faster and faster as her screams fillhis ears and heart.

He shows no mercy, nordoes Emma expect any, and soon she’s flying over the edge of pleasure, his namea shouted prayer falling from her lips, her fluttering sex gushing, drenching Killian’s hand and cock, coating his strainingballs and down his trembling thighs as he, too, chases his own release.

Her name is a prayer onhis lips as he presses himself further inside her, his seed spurting hotlywithin her, thick ribbons coating her womb and walls.

Gently, with his foreheadpressed against her shoulder and breath short, Killian lies them down on theirside, one heavy hand going to free Emma’s wrists. He brings first one and thenthe other to his lips, fingers tenderly brushing over the red marks.

Nestled against him, Emmawhimpers at the sensation of blood rushing again through her veins, painKillian slowly takes away from her with gentle caresses and kisses, triggeringher healing magic. Sometimes, she would joke sayin he’s her personal source ofmagic and, in a way, he is: Emma might hold the lightest of magic, but it’s heremotions that fuel said power, and what more powerful magic than True Love isthere?

They stay like that untilKillian’s soft member slips from her, eliciting another moan from Emma. «Shush,my love,» he whispers in her ear, nuzzling her cheek. «You’ll feel bettersoon.»

Beneath the castle is ahot spring no one but the royal family and few selected members of the castlestaff knows about, the waters not too hot but definitely warm enough to bathein.

It’s there that Killiancarries Emma, body curled against his chest, making his way down the narrowstone staircase hidden behind a door in the queen’s chamber.

The first time Emmashowed it to him, he was pleasantly shocked, but didn’t lose his time infollowing his temptress of a princess in the steamy waters.

Part of the closest bankhas been sculpted into a nook where one can sit and enjoy the water lapping attheir body.

Emma hisses in discomfortwhen her sensitive flesh comes in contact with the warm water, arms tighteningaround Killian’s shoulders. The stinging sensations fades slowly the more shestays in the water, Killian sat on the stony underwater bench and her bodyfloating boneless.

A sigh leaves her lips asshe tilts her head back on his shoulder, eyes closed still and hair free of allthe pins and the heavy crown, left unguarded on the bed.

Killian leans back, onearm thrown over Emma’s stomach as he tilts his head backwards and closes hiseyes, basking in the afterglow and aftercare of such a rough lovemaking.

What seems ages later,Emma’s voice breaks the silence, a whisper in the underground cavern. To hissensitive hearing, however, her words echo against the walls.

«If we ever were to havechildren, would they be wereleopards, too?»

To be entirely honest,Killian doesn’t know what shocks him the most, the fact that Emma is talkingabout children or that she’s been wondering if they would be like him. It meansshe’s thought about them, much like he has. Gods, has he ever.

Gulping, Killian nods. «Ibelieve so, aye. After all, Liam and I both inherited it from father. Mamaalways used to tell us stories of the Jones clan to protect us and warn not toreveal our secret and… you are not listening to me, are you?» The amusementin his voice is clear, the grin on his lips widening as she bites on her lowerlip and shakes her head.

«I heard what you said,but I just… I like how it sounds,» Emma admits, sheepishly, cheeks reddening,eyes still close. «Mama, I mean. I like it.»

The sound of his breathhitching in his throat surprises even him, but nothing shocks him like the wayhis heart seems to melt in his chest, the fantasies he’s had… «I like it, too.»His voice is gruff, the admission leaving him breathless.

Emma hums in contentment.«Good,» she sighs, one dripping wet arm moving to wrap around the back of hisneck, fingers threading through his dark locks, effulgent green eyes gazing upat him with unconditional love. «We need to wait a bit longer, I’m afraid, butnever fear, my love: we’ll be a happy family for a very, very long time.»

Tagging the usual crew and those who manifested their want to be included (and I’m counting the likes, too, so sorry to bother if you didn’t want to be tagged): @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @winterbaby89 @objectsatsleepstayatsleep @gingerchangeling @ilovemesomekillianjones @jennjenn615 @killianjonesownsmyheart1 @wyntereyez @kday426 @therooksshiningknight @sals86 @superchocovian @thejollyroger-writer @heavenlyjoycastle @cocohook38 @hails-paige @tiganasummertree @courtorderedcake @shey-starsfury @hallway5 @owlways-and-forever @allonsy-allonso-every-time @aim5289 @snowbellewells @harshini01 @i-nvr-wrote-it @deathbycaptainswan @teamhook @datironass @kingofmyheart14 @angellifedeath

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