#cs valentine fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kmomof4 · 1 year ago

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That is all

Rum and Wagers

Roses are red Violets are blue Rum is much cheaper Than dinner for two Especially when your best friend co-owns a bar and gives it you for nothing. Single on Valentine’s Day, Emma goes to bartender and best friend, Killian, for alcohol and advice on how not to be single for next Valentine’s Day.

3050 words of Valentine's Day fluff.

Read on Ao3

“I hate Valentine’s Day! It’s nothing but a huge corporate scam!”

Emma huffed as she reached the bar. She grabbed the cheap, cardboard, heart-shaped beer mats and flung them across the room onto a vacant table, as far away from her as she could possibly get them. She dropped onto a barstool, rested her elbow on the bar and leaned her face against her fist.

Killian stood behind the bar, tea towel in hand, drying off recently washed glasses. He raised an eyebrow, watching her in amusement, and failed to hold back a chuckle.

“You were all over Valentine’s Day last year,” he recalled. “In fact, I distinctly remember being the one to watch over your lad whilst you want off to some swanky five-star hotel with the twat-that-shall-not-be-named.”

“Because you were and still are depressingly single and now I’m in the same damn boat,” Emma groaned. “I can’t believe I’m single on Valentine’s Day.”

“Well, you know what they say, love. Roses are red, violets are blue-”

“Oh, no.”

“Rum is much cheaper than dinner for two,” he finished with a grin, brandishing a brand-new, untouched bottle of rum from beneath the bar. “Especially when your best friend co-owns a bar and gives it you for nothing.”

He retrieved two rum glasses and set them on the bar, promptly uncapping the bottle and pouring the liquid into both glasses. Emma chuckles as he went overboard on the measures. He always knew when she was looking to get drunk.

He set the bottle down and reached out for one of the glasses.

She looked at him curiously, “Drinking on the job?”

He lifted his glass and gestured around the empty bar with it, “I realise you’re caught up in your moping, Swan, but it’s utterly dead in here. The Rabbit Hole isn’t exactly the hotspot for a romantic Valentine’s Day date.”

Emma sighed as she picked up her glass, “Are you saying we’re the only two single people in Storybrooke?”

“Well, the only two sociable single people at any least,” Killian remarked. “So, cheers to that.”

They clinked their glasses together then simultaneously necked the entirety of their contents, placing the empty glasses back down on the bar with a light, synchronised thud.

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better, Neal is just as single as you are,” Killian pointed out.

“So much for not naming him,” Emma muttered. “And I don’t know about that. I’ve heard the rumours about him cosying up to Tamara.”

“Ah, you’ve caught that then?”

Killian picked up the rum bottle again, pouring out more alcohol.

“I mean, it’s fast, right? What’s it been, a month? Is it even a month? That doesn’t add up, does it?” Emma questioned.

Killian opted not to answer, instead taking one good, long swig of his rum.

“This is the part where you tell me he wouldn’t have cheated on me,” Emma prompted.

“I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you that, Swan,” Killian replied. “Unfortunately, I believe the prick is more than capable of disrespecting you like that.”

Emma happily took the second drink waiting for her.

“You deserve better than Cassidy, love,” Killian told her. “I hope you realise that.”

“And you tried to tell me that all along,” Emma spoke with a long, regretful sigh. “Why the hell didn’t I listen to you?”

“I’m both your bartender and your best friend,” Killian pointed out. “I exist to listen to all your problems and give you astonishingly good advice that you’ll inevitably ignore.”

“Maybe it’s time we change that,” Emma proposed. “So how do I avoid being single by next Valentine’s Day?”

Killian paused, brow furrowing as he considered, and then shook his head, “Maybe it’s best we don’t mess with the trusted, old-age system of you electing to ignore my advice?”

“Oh, come on! Don’t hold out on me now! Not when I’m finally ready to listen to you,” she encouraged.

She finished her drink and promptly took matters into her own hands, leaning over the bar to pick up the bottle of rum and pour out her latest drink.

He hastily grabbed the bottle out of her hands, stopping her from pouring any further. The contents of her glass threatened to spill over the brim, forcing her to lean forwards and sip some from it before she was able to lift it without spilling any. Killian placed the bottle to the back of the bar, out of her reach but still well within his.

His own glass would need topping up soon enough.

“You do realise, Swan, that you’re asking dating advice from a guy who is, and I’ll quote, ‘pathetically unacquainted with the dating world of the twenty-first century’?” he challenged, his arms folded across his chest, a bemused smirk meeting his gleaming blue eyes.

Emma took a swig of her drink and frowned, “Someone said that about you? I mean, they’re not exactly wrong; I don’t think you have dated anyone since high school and we graduated in oh-one. Of course, I know you had that weird friends-with-benefits kind of set-up with Tink in college but that hardly counts as dating. Anyway, I digress… who, who said that about you?”

“You did.”

“I did?”

“Aye.”

“When?”

“Last night.”

“Ooohhh,” Emma drew out upon vaguely recalling the conversation. “In my defense, I was very drunk last night.”

“Mmm,” Killian hummed as he finished his drink and began topping it up. “It appears tonight is headed in a similar direction.”

“What else is there to do when you’re single on Valentine’s Day? Which reminds me, you’re holding out on me,” Emma downed a good chunk of her drink and pointed at him with her glass. “This astonishingly good advice you spoke of earlier, put your money where your mouth is and hit me with it.”

“On this, I’m none the wiser, else I wouldn’t be single myself, would I?” he reasoned with her.

He proceeded to take a big gulp of his drink, lowered it from his lips, then promptly decided to take another large swig.

“Well, you’re no help! I’ll have to work it out for myself, won’t I? The way I see it, I’ve got a few options,” Emma mused. “So, single men of Storybrooke… there’s Gold-”

Killian broke into a hard burst of laughter which almost caused him to choke on his drink, “Your ex’s father? You’ve gotta be bloody joking!”

“If you let me finish, I was about to rule him out,” Emma returned. “How desperate do you think I am?”

“Not desperate at all,” Killian responded immediately, “which is exactly why your list of single men in Storybrooke goes as follows; Leroy’s not your type, Sidney’s ruled out after you punched him in the jaw, Whale’s… well, Whale, Graham – if I recall correctly – was a fling way back when and nothing else, and August was friend-zoned after the first drink, the poor sod.”

“And your list of single women in Storybrooke goes; Belle who punched you in the jaw-”

“That was a huge misunderstanding, and you know it, Swan!”

“Zelena who, well, good luck to you if you go down that road, and Lily who can’t hold a serious relationship to save her life,” Emma recounted. “So, what are we to do, Killian? We can’t be doomed to be single forever.”

He hastily downed the contents of his glass and poured himself a healthy refill, even topping her glass up despite it not even being half-empty. He took another big gulp of his rum then set it down. He scratched the back of his neck, and his jaw twitched as he finally looked her way again.

She stared at him expectantly and, when he remained silent, prompted, “What?”

“What?” he returned.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

He downed his refill of rum then dared to innocently question, “What?”

“You’ve just shipped a boat load of liquid courage,” she pointed out, “and you’ve got that look on your face.”

“What look? I don’t have a look.”

“You do have a look! Your eyes are all narrowed, you’re frowning, your jaw keeps twitching and you’re scratching your neck like a cat with fleas,” she challenged him. “That’s your ‘I’ve got something to say but it’ll make things worse’ look.”

Killian gave up on the glasses, gulping down the rum straight from the bottle. He set the near-empty bottle on top of the bar. Between them, they’d made light work of its contents.

He eventually spoke, “In all our discussions about your options in the last month, there’s one eligible guy in Storybrooke that you’ve yet to consider.”

“Really?” Emma sounded unconvinced. “It’s a small town. Single guys around here are hard to come by. I thought we had them all covered. Sidney, Leroy, Whale, Graham, August… who am I missing?”

The dregs at the bottom of the rum bottle were coaxed down Killian’s throat.

“Me.”

The empty bottle hit the bar with a resounding thud.

Emma laughed.

“I’m entirely serious, Swan.”

Emma composed herself, lifted her head up and everything had changed. She saw Killian in a whole new light, not as her best friend or her bartender but as a man who had always looked at her as if she were his whole world; the very man who she had called – day and night – whenever she and Neal had argued, the man who would drop everything to be by her side, the man who had always known whether she needed alcohol, an ear to talk off, a shoulder to cry on, or a punching bag, and provided it without ever being asked.

The words started to pour out of Killian’s mouth, “I can’t keep pretending that there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you, that you don’t brighten my day every time you walk into this mere tavern. I can’t keep pretending like it didn’t crush my heart to see you with Neal, that I didn’t feel a glimpse of hope every time you two argued, that it didn’t kill me every time you decided to reconcile with that prat.”

“Killian.”

“The bloody fool doesn’t even realise what he’s given up,” Killian continued. “You’re amazing; you’re smart and you’re strong and so breathtakingly beautiful. You’re a shining light in a dark world-”

“Killian.”

“-like a lighthouse guiding me safely home to shore. And I could have stood here and given you the advice you were looking for, told you to give online dating a go, but I couldn’t run the risk of standing here, forced to watch once more as an unworthy man treats you like dirt on the bottom of his shoe when you deserve to be treated like a princess-”

“Killian.”

“-and whilst I treasure our friendship deeply – it’s that which has kept me holding my tongue so bloody long – I know grander treasure lies beneath the surface of what we share already, if only we’re both willing to fight for it. Because I would, Emma, I would fight for-”

“Killian!” Emma snapped, finally succeeding in cutting him off.

Or, at the very least, she had thrown him from his rambling thoughts for he gulped at her pointed tone and promptly backtracked, “I’m sorry, Emma, forget I said anything. I – rum! The bloody thing is like a tru-”

“Fucking hell, Jones, kiss me already!”

He didn’t need telling twice; he leapt impressively over the bar and before Emma could even marvel at that feat, his lips crashed against hers and her thoughts melted away; the rest of the world and her worries with them. His warm, gentle hands rushed all over her body, desperately exploring, as her hands gripped tightly to his hair, keeping him close, entangling her fingers in his dark locks. The rum on his breath harmonised with hers and her heart leapt in her chest, the little hairs on the back of her neck standing on end, for they clung to each other – lips, hands, fingers, legs – as if fighting for their lives. Her mind was convinced she’d been reborn, experiencing her first kiss all over again for the kiss is unparalleled to anything she’d ever experienced before, as if she’d been doing it wrong.

She chased after his lips when he moved back, initiating a series of small, yearning, fast kisses – his lips remaining attentive, coming and going like waves against a ship – neither wanting the moment to end, both gasping for oxygen and made breathless by the desperate passion of the initial kiss. She couldn’t let him go, clutching onto his neck for dear life. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, claiming him as hers, and chuckled teasingly against his lips.

“I want you,” she murmured, her lips dancing and brushing against his as she did so.

His voice was steeped in desire, low and impossibly enticing, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words.”

She smiled against his lips, “Good things come to those who wait.”

“I’m done waiting.”

“Good.”

Despite his words, he pulled his head back and she leaned after him.

“Wait,” he spoke gravely.

“You’re a fucking tease, Jones,” she complained.

“I don’t want a one-time fling.”

“I don’t want a one-time fling,” she returned.

“I’m done with flings.”

“I never started.”

“Uhh…”

“Other than Graham.”

“I want this, beyond tonight.”

“Me too.”

“Good.”

He took a few steps forward and she clung to him in the way a crying child clings to its mother, fully prepared to delve into a tantrum should someone so wickedly take him from her. He placed her down gently, perched on the edge of the pool table. He was too far away, half a step away, and she pulled him in by his jacket, smothering herself in him.

He kissed her again and showed off, proving men can be capable of multi-tasking by ripping her shirt from her body simultaneously, the buttons bouncing and rolling along the floor, forgotten instantly. He pulled back from her, and she reached out urgently for him, too far away, as he hastily removed his shirt from his body.

He pounced on her before his shirt could hit the floor, his presence guiding her down onto the pool table, sending the neatly arranged balls spawling across the table. He craved her as much as she craved him, more so perhaps. Where the fog of Neal and past lovers had finally lifted, allowing Emma to see him clearly for the first time, Killian had been biding his time, awaiting the very moment for most of his life. Her enticing figure had featured in many a dream since their high school days and he wasn’t fully convinced he wasn’t dreaming. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d been duped by such cruel, lifelike dreams, fast asleep on the bar, empty bottles of merchandise surrounding him. If it were a dream, he hoped no one woke him; if it truly were a bloody miracle, he aimed to impress.

He danced a series of kisses down her neck, burrowing his nose against her skin, soaking in the sweet, combined scent of rum, cinnamon, and the raspberry air freshener she insisted on keeping in her old car. His onslaught of kisses continued lower, against her shoulder, down her collarbone and to the top of her chest. His tongue was keen to join the party, gliding over the top of her right breast as his fingers worked at the clasp of the bra strap on her back, her own hands working at his belt, the brushing of her arm against his crotch only fuelling his longing for her.

“Bloody hell.”

A new voice broke their moment.

They froze. Emma’s bra dropped. Killian’s belt released, his pants dropping to unveil white boxers beneath; ones which left very little to Emma’s imagination.

Or Liam and Elsa’s.

The couple stood at the bar, staring in shock at the sight before them. Killian raced to hitch his pants up and chucked his previously abandoned shirt at Emma, aiding her urgent attempt to cover up.

“Now I’m glad the pair of you have gotten your shit together and stopped staring longingly at each other’s backs but for fuck’s sake, Killian, not on my bloody pool table!” Liam sounded simultaneously pleased and irate.

“Amazing timing as always, Liam,” Killian muttered and helped Emma from the pool table. “Come on, love, I have a private room above.”

Killian got Emma as far as the bottom of the stairs before Liam called out after them, “Oh, do me a favour and don’t go public with this ‘til March or else I’ll have to fork over a hundred dollars to Will; sneaky bastard claimed February right from under me!”

“You and Will wagered on this?” Killian remarked in surprise, all the while pulling Emma further up the stairs.

“Mate, the whole bloody town is in on this thing,” Liam returned. “In fact, it’s her best mate, Mary Margaret, who’ll be quids in should you hold off ‘til Match.”

“She could do with the money,” Emma mused as they reached the top of the stairs. “For the wedding.”

“And I could do with you, in my bed, right now,” Killian growled out impatiently.

“Your wish is my command.”

It was a wish she not only granted that night, but regularly in the nights which followed until his bed became their bed and by the next Valentine’s Day neither one of them was desperately single, instead madly in love, celebrating not only Valentine’s Day but the anniversary of the day they became more than friends. As far as the whole town were aware, it was nothing more than Valentine’s Day for March the third had been the day Will had ‘walked in’ on their ‘first kiss’ and promptly cursed them out for not ‘seeing the bloody obvious’ three days earlier.

Mary Margaret gained an extra one-thousand-one-hundred dollars to put towards her fairytale wedding.

Emma and Killian never got an explanation for why twelve people were so willing to place a hundred dollars on a bet involving the two of them; they did both agree never to speak of the tampered wager but conceded that a bottle of rum could well uncover the truth hidden between them…

----

Tag List (taken from the CSMM list - let me know if you want adding/taking off).

@teamhook @laianely @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @myfearless-love

#cs ff #rum and wagers #beckettj #cs valentines fic

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gyupremacy · 2 years ago

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Kiss & Make Up | cs.

↳ Pairing: choi san x fem!reader

↳ Genre: smut, fluff, angst, established relationship

↳ Au(s): slice of life

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word Count: 2.1k

↳ Warning(s): cursing, mentions of past cheating (not san), argument, mention of parental divorce, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), missionary, t*tjob, dirty talk, fondling

↳ Summary: Your fiancé San hasn't been as active in the preparations for your upcoming wedding, and it's starting to get to you. Tensions rise after an argument about the subject.

↳ a/n: Hi, everyone! April's been a pretty busy month for me, with preparing for finals and personal conflicts, but I'm back with another fic. Thanks to @hwasrie for beta-ing and @snoozeagustd for creating the banner!

This is my submission for k-vanity’s "Idols Over Flowers" event.

Main flowers: roses (romance), violets (angst), marigold (hurt comfort), fresia (slice of life)

Supporting flowers: amaranthus (marriage & co)

Greenery: myrtle (soul mates)

Ribbons: band of satin (weddings)

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

"What do you think of this, baby?" you said, turning the bridal magazine around to show your fiancé.

"I think it looks beautiful! I like the style," San responded, barely glancing at the photo.

He was more focused on you, more importantly, how you were straddling his waist in the bed as you frantically flipped through pages.

"Come on! You already said that about that last one I showed you," you huffed in frustration.

"Well, I'm sorry, Y/N. I just don't see why you're dead set on finding a dress so soon," San remarked.

He had a point, whether you admitted it or not. He proposed to you on Valentine's Day, and you still hadn't made a decision on the date you'd tie the knot.

"It's not just about finding a dress. It's about finding the dress," you began.

"Many girls dream about their wedding day, and I'm one of them."

You sighed dreamily, looking at a ballgown style that caught your interest. Seeing the expensive price, you quickly moved onto the next page.

"Well… if it means anything, I think you would look really sexy in a mermaid gown," San chuckled.

"One that accentuates your body really nicely."

His voice went down to a whisper, and he soon sat up in the bed. Soft kisses were placed from your shoulder to your neck.

"Sannie… don't start," you warned.

"What? I can't imagine what my gorgeous bride will look like on our wedding day?" His hands trailed down your hips, then down your legs.

"As much as I would like to spend the resting of the morning making sweet music with you, I need to take a shower," you laughed, getting up to go to the bathroom.

"Maybe I could j-" San began before you stopped him mid sentence.

"Don’t even think about it, Choi."

After the long shower, you got dressed in a crop top and leggings since you were about to do your daily yoga routine.

San was in the kitchen making breakfast for the both of you (an omelet for him and a pastry for you). He topped it all off with some fresh fruit on your plate and green tea.

"My baby is back from the shower!" San beamed.

"And my baby made me breakfast," You gave him a kiss before grabbing the plate off the counter.

He sat beside you and began to feed you the pieces of fruit from your plate. You made it a point to purposely suck on his finger after you finished one bite.

"Mmm… so delicious," you moaned out.

"You're playing with fire, princess," San whispered.

"Let's hope you don't get burned then," you teased, going to take a bite out of your pastry.

The rest of the time was spent completely devouring the meal your fiancé prepared, but you were still thinking about the conversation earlier.

You and San had arguments like any other couple, though you didn't want to call what happened earlier with the dress an "argument", but it did bother you that a proper date for the nuptials wasn't set.

"San? About the dress…" you were about to tell him that it was fine that he wasn't as enthusiastic about it as you were, but was stopped by him speaking.

"Really, Y/N? We're still on about that damn dress?" San laughed, wanting not to focus on it.

"What? No, I was going to say that it was cool that you didn't see it as much of a priority right now," you said.

"Almost like you don't see the wedding being a priority."

You muttered that last part, not thinking he would hear it. You didn't actually mean this, but you were so frustrated at his seemingly lack of commitment towards preparations that you needed to get it out.

"Excuse me?" San said, dropping his fork on the counter.

"Did you just say that I don't think this wedding is a priority?"

"It certainly feels like it. Anytime I bring up wedding stuff, you clam up and avoid the conversation," you remarked, folding your arms.

"Because I thought it would be a compromise. It's like you've already made decisions on the wedding and just want me to go along with them," San gets up from the stool and walks towards the door.

"Where are you going?" you said, going towards him.

"I'm going to hang out with the boys," he responded nonchalantly.

"Of course you are," you muttered.

San didn't even waste his breath, just shutting the door on his way out. You sighed, going back to clean the dishes that were left.

Once finished, you got your yoga mat from the side of the couch and rolled it onto the floor. Hoping to clear your mind for a few hours, you turned your meditation music on, wanting to block out the rest of the world.

Hours had passed, and you had slipped out of your workout attire into something more comfortable. You grabbed your robe from the bathroom closet and put it on, tying the cloth belt around your waist.

San was scrolling through his phone on the bed. He had come home from his afternoon with the guys an hour ago, not speaking a word to you.

The tension was eating you up inside, so you walked towards the bed and made your way next to him.

"Hey," you greeted nervously.

"Hi," San said, turning to the side to look at you.

"So… um… I'm sorry about what I said earlier," you started.

"I shouldn't have said you didn't see the wedding as a priority. I just… want everything to be perfect."

You started fiddling with your fingers and took a deep breath before continuing on.

"My parents… didn't have the happiest of marriages. The loud arguments, the cheating, having to witness all of that was just - " your voice began to crack, and that's when San sat up from the bed and brought you into an embrace.

"It's okay, baby," he soothed.

"My mom deserved a better partner, a better relationship as a whole, and I try to compensate for that with our relationship," you finished.

"I know how much this wedding means to you, but you're going to burn yourself out if you keep pushing yourself to such high standards," San explained.

"You're an amazing woman, and you've been through so much to be able to become the woman I chose to spend the rest of my life with."

"San, I appreciate your words, but sometimes I feel like I can become too much for you. Almost as if I have to try and prove how much I love you to keep you satisfied," you revealed.

"Y/N… never in the entirety of our relationship have I not been satisfied or happy," he assured.

"You've made me a better man, and making a relationship work is a joint effort."

"Your feelings are valid, but if you ever feel that there is some form of miscommunication, you can always come to me," San said, bringing your hands in his and pressing a kiss on them.

"I love you, Y/N. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that earlier," San apologized.

"I have too much respect for you and our relationship to let it go because of our feelings at that moment."

You began to cry tears of happiness, feeling all the love and adoration the man in front of you had for yourself. He brought his thumb up to wipe them away.

"Perfect is boring, my love. Just being with you is enough," San smiled lovingly, showing his signature dimples.

"Choi San, you're my everything," you responded, bringing your hands up to hold his face.

You both lean in close and kiss each other with such palpable affection. San brought his hands down to your waist, pressing his hands firmly against your hips.

"I can't help myself whenever I'm around you, Y/N," San whispered.

"You're so gorgeous, and I can't wait until you're mine forever."

Butterflies formed in your stomach, both from his words and the way he was kissing down your neck. His hands wandered your body some more, grabbing your butt and carefully placing you against the pillows.

San repositioned himself, straddling your body for a moment before becoming eye level with the belt on your robe.

"What is my princess hiding underneath here, huh?" San teased.

San bit his lip, looking at your bashful demeanor, making it his mission to find out what was underneath. He untied the robe hastily, soon looking at the purple lace lingerie on your body.

"Surprise," you whispered out, watching his eyes widen before an all too familiar grin appeared.

"Oh, baby… you don't know what you've gotten yourself into," San said, grazing his hand over your underwear.

His thumb rubbed your sweet spot, causing you to let out soft whimpers until he slid the lace garment to the side. San kissed your slit before diving his tongue inside.

"Fuck! Sannie, that feels so good!" You moaned.

San giggled as a response, continuing to lap you up like his life depended on it. He hummed against your lips, licking your juices and keeping his hands firm on your thigh.

You ran your fingers through his hair and leaned your head back in pleasure.

"I must be doing an amazing job if you're making those sounds, baby," San smiled, taking in your blissed out appearance.

"Y-You could s-say that," you managed to moan out as he continued working wonders with his tongue.

San brought his lips to your bundle of nerves, taking his time to suck it and watch you unravel for him.

"You're about to come, baby? Let it out all for me," San said softly.

"Oh shit! I'm so close!" You screamed out before your orgasm surged through your entire body, causing you to shake underneath your fiancé.

As you came down from your daze, San tapped your shoulder for you to switch positions with him so that you were the one on top this time.

"As much as I would love for you to return the favor, Y/N, I just want to be inside of you," San moaned, gesturing to the noticeable bulge in his sweatpants.

You obliged, pulling down his sweatpants and underwear. His member sprung up and pressed a kiss to the tip before sliding your underwear down.

You guided your slit over his and slid down on him, tilting your head back once you feel him inside of you. San grabbed hold of your hips, watching as you bounced on top of him.

"Yes! Right there!" You moaned.

"Feels so good, baby! Ride it out!" San grunted, letting you control the pace.

He placed his hands behind you, unhooking your bra, letting it fall to the floor.

"I can never get tired of these," San said, fondling your chest.

"Oh yeah? Then how about this?" You stopped grinding on him and moved to jerk his member.

You licked up and down his shaft, taking the tip into your mouth and savoring all of your juices. San thought he'd burst at the sight, but that's when you caught him by surprise.

Taking a hold of his member, you slid it in between your chest and squeezed them snugly together. Your fiancé's eyes began to roll back in pleasure.

"Mmm… they're so soft and pretty. Just like that!" San groaned.

He was leaking from the tip, and you knew he was about to come, so you increased the speed of strokes, paired with the stimulation from your cleavage.

"Y/N, I'm about to come!" San gasped out until the clear liquid oozed out, landing on your chest.

You made a show of sticking your tongue out and lapping up whatever you could reach.

"Did you like that, baby?" You smiled, moving to sit up on your knees.

"I think you know the answer to that," San said, running his fingers through his hair and catching his breath.

You got up and grabbed a washcloth to wipe yourself off as he put the rest of his clothes on. When you returned to the bed, San snuggled up with you and kissed your forehead.

"September 16th." He said abruptly.

"Huh?" You asked.

"That's the date I want to make you mine," he reached out to caress your cheek.

Your eyes lit up with excitement as you couldn't stop picturing what the day would look like.

"Guess I'll have to continue on with finding the dress," you laughed.

"And the flowers, the venue, the cake, the time…" San said, counting his fingers to prove his point.

"You'll be helping me every step of the way, San," you kissed him, getting up once more to go into the shower.

You throw a glance back at San, giggling at his confused expression.

"What?" San questioned.

"Well, aren't you coming in?"

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

#wkcnet #kvanity #kidolflowers #choi san smut #choi san fluff #choi san angst #choi san imagines #san smut #san fluff #san angst #san imagines #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez imagines #gyupremacy

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ev0ri · 1 month ago

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A treat for myself cs Valentine's day is coming up.

I'm not very open about self ships cs Ik how toxic some ppl can get over a fic character but who cares rn.

#jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #jjk #artists on tumblr #self ship #valentines day

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hwonnrinji · 1 month ago

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hi guys . I deadass js realized that long thread we had goinf on w reblogs nd stuff my reblog didnt go thru ?? like it js deleted my entire text hence y my last reblog for that thread was like blank . 😭😭😭💔 stupid tumbkr omds

ANYWAY ! i frwakinf hate the sciences so bad like im good at every other subject but science i fear id rather be hwld at gunpoint than ever touch science after i graduate🙁 PLSS i wanted to take ap osych but im lwk mad lazy for that and my skl put a 3 ap per year maximum 😅😅 like damn okay . yall js hatw to see me succeed 😒😒😒 GAWAHHH i loge dpr so much like i deadass had mood on repeat for so long bcs of this one yeonjun edit that transformed my life i fear ! MERRY GO IS SOOO freakinf Good i love it so mich

i donr have my own room guys. ive been sharing w my sister for the past few years😢😢 its okat tho idrc bc anyw im barely in my room like most of the time im js in my living room doing my work nd stuff bc ion wannna bother my stupid sister like that💔💔 also cs shes mad stinky when she gets off her shift nd is home . LMFAO omg ur evil pushing smn off their bed 😭😭😭

girl i got like 1 valentines day fic in line and i fwar i prob will not finish it b4 valentines day . god pls give me rhe will to start picking up writing again. i have this ONE fic idea that lwk is fire like acc fire like so amazeballs and awesome sauce nd shit 😊😊 pls pray i finish it !!! AND GOSH U R A GENIUSSS like ur mind works wonders… cool w u… YESS GAWDDD i love cool w u SOO MUCH its one of my favs of nwjns plus get up and hypeboy and hurt‼️‼️ ive been tucked in bed at 9:30 since like. 3rd grade. ion play when it comes to having a healthy sleep schedule i fear. i CANNOT have eyebags ever idc 💔 i would nawt look good w eyebags oms. why tf is olaf taller tahn the average girl what the hell😭😭😭

LMAO I FIGURED like why is there just a reblog there shld be smth 😭😭😭 i love science so much oml that is my BAE right there ❤️❤️ lololol i got a year before i graduate i hear the gunshots already ME NEXT !!! my ap pysch is sooo funny for some reason like i love my group frfr 🙏 you js gotta dab on the haters ning (a member of the dance club told me that) dpr is my lifeline i don't fear. no blueberries has been charting on vinh's top 3 bcuz it's js so addicting 🤓☝️

i feel bad for you twin, i can't imagine sharing a sleeping space with someone because what if they're a snorer... then what? 😞 what if they sleep talk/walk and kill me... then what? 😞😞 OHEMGEE I HATEE being in my living room...😬😬 it's peaceful but when the adults come home from work it's like all hell js broke loose. i cannot and i mean cannot handle another loud laugh coming from my anyone's mouth when i'm trying to watch tv 💔💔💔 LMFAO stinky. i call my eldest brother stinkabutt because he reaks of wtv it is. what can i say? im a pusher 😜

dear ning pls bless us with another fic before i kay em ess. PLEASEEEEE 🙏🙏 heh my friends say im special 😼 but probably not the kind of positive special... scratches head. may cwy receive more recognition because the budget for mv must've been high 😭🙏🙏 im gonna be so fr rn... 9:30 is when i eat dinner LOL. sometimes not even, like it rlly depends. i can be eating my first meal at 5pm and eat my last at 10 💀💀 i play when it comes to a sleep schedule, i remember pulling 3 all nighters in a row. pretty sure i was hallucinating on the 3rd night. eyebags kind of fit me lololol but it makes me look emo and it beats my nonchalant aura. #NOTsigmaofme

not to mention i taught a bunch of working adults who can drink, drive, and smoke brainrot. like i was explaining the difference between skibidi toilet and evil skibidi toilet, and how they're not the same but they're twins yk. and also slangs like "clock it" or "sigma/alpha" and no sigma and alpha are not the same, alpha is below sigma, you geekers.

#ninguitar my moot #hwon yap session #probably hanni level yap #hwonnrinji

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yanania · 1 year ago

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IF ANY OF YALL KNOW THE TITLE OF TJE FIC WHWRE BULLY!EREN GAVE VALENTINE GIFTS TO READER THEN FUCKING HER IN A CLASSROOM WHILE MIKASA WATCHES THEM BEHIND THE DOOR AND MIKASA SAW RHE GIFTS THAT SHE THOUGHT WERE FOR HER CS SHE AND EREN WERE DHOPPING TOGETHER THE OTHER DAY plsplsplsplsssss i need it

there was a pt. 2 abt mika tryna win carla’s favor so her chances w/ eren would increase or smth but turns out reader and eren were already at carlas house before mikasa so carla and eren tries to make mika excluded as possible

#eren x reader #eren aot #eren smut #aot smut #PLEASE I NEED TO READ IT AGAIN #EVEN RHE AUTHORS USERNAME WOULD SUFFICE

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cosette141 · 3 months ago

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Hi, it's your CS Secret Santa again!

Oh I love Finding Nemo, Real Steel, Two Week's Notice, Mamma Mia. Valentine's day is great! I really like the movie New Year's Eve. It is built in the same way as Valentine's Day and has the same vibe. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it.

I'm huge Harry Potter fan, I have the Eragon series in my library, but it's still waiting for its turn. A new book in the series has recently been released.

Do you have a particular song (or songs) that you associate with CS? I love adding lyrics to my work and it would be nice to add something you love.

❤️❄️❤️☃️❤️🎄

You've seen Real Steel!?? I feel like everyone I mention that to has never heard of it! 💕💕 I never thought I could love a movie about fighting robots so much, and they made it sooo heartwarming :D

Oh yes!!! I forgot about New Years Day! I remember being so excited to see it after the success of Valentines Day, it was so adorable too!

Ooh!! And you know what's so funny, I looked up the new Eragon book you mentioned cause I didn't know about it (it's been about a decade or more since I read the series) and I just saw that they announced Disney is making an Eragon TV show lol! Gosh I hope they do it justice lol, the Eragon movie they did was terrible XD

Ooh I love that question!! YES I have songs I associate with CS hahah XD The song I listened to a lot when writing a fic called Begin Again was this song "Sailor's Heart" by Zyke. (Linked to Spotify!) It's just sooo them :)

And I make fanvids a lot, and I made some for CS and these songs I felt fit them sooooo well :D https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLuvMF6yceQ7MpXZYJZfeL3-U6HN1uqiGk&si=sD4eFosGK5Eu9LRl

Do you have any CS songs?? You've gotta :D ;)

Thanks for the ask, Santa!! It was also a great birthday present for today hehe! 💕💕

#hi santa!#ask box

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snowbellewells · 8 months ago

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CS Fic Rec Monday: "The Little Shop Across the Street" by: @lenfaz

The fourth and final rec for this Monday morning is a one shot written by @lenfaz for a Valentines event some time back. It believe this story has been around quite a while, but I only recently discovered it and was absolutely touched by its sweetness and charm. In it, Killian is a florist and Emma is opening a tattoo parlor across the street from his flower shop. She comes in to get practice at drawing flowers, and they begin to form a bond that is genuine and lovely. I don't want to give too much more away, but if you (like me) have missed this one up until now, give it a read. It's wonderful! :)

"The Little Shop Across the Street" by: @lenfaz

#cs fic rec monday #csfrm #the little shop across the street #cs modern au #cs one shot #major cs fic rec #such a talented shipmate #@lenfaz

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searchingwardrobes · 4 years ago

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Valentine Throwbacks: Day 2

This was written a few years ago for the 14 Days of Valentine’s Prompts on tumblr. This was for day three: the meet-cute.

Summary: Emma Swan doesn’t do “cute.” So when she meets Killian Jones for the first time, well, she meets ALL of him. Or what happens when gym employee Emma walks in on Killian in the tanning bed.

Making a picset for this fic was simultaneously fun and frustrating. Colin’s chest hair is one of a kind, isn’t it? ;) I also didn’t want this to be NSFW, so the tanning bed pic isn’t exactly as described in the story, lol.

Words: almost 3k

Rated: High T ? I mean, Emma accidentally sees him nude, but that’s about it. I just can’t bring myself to rate this an M because it’s overall just funny and cute.

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @let-it-raines @teamhook @bethacaciakay @xhookswenchx @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @stahlop @scientificapricot @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl @profdanglaisstuff @carpedzem @ohmakemeahercules @branlovestowrite @superchocovian @sherlockwhovian @vvbooklady1256 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan @xsajx @itsfabianadocarmo @spartanguard @hookedonapirate

Emma Swan did not work her butt off just to wipe things. She practically crawled and scraped her way into a meaningful life after getting out of prison. She worked multiple jobs, lived in her car, ate nothing but beans straight from the can, and when the misery was all said and done, she had a college degree in exercise science. But like any field these days everyone wanted experience, so until she somehow got some, she was relegated to wiping things. Wiping down the equipment, wiping down mats, wiping, wiping, and more wiping. And she only made slightly more than the teenagers at the reception desk and the college guy who made the smoothies.

Emma sighed as she grabbed yet another fresh rag after her boss told her the tanning machines needed . . . you guessed it, wiping. She was paying more attention to her internal raging about how much her life sucked than she was to her superior telling her which beds were occupied. She was pretty sure she said they were all being used except for bed three, so Emma went all the way to the end of the narrow hallway that housed the tanning beds and stopped at the last door. If she hadn’t been distracted and moody, she might have thought to knock. Maybe. Then again, most people locked the damn door.

Well, not this guy. He also didn't wear underwear to tan like most people. Nope, he was completely nude. He lay there, in all his glory, shimmering under the UV bulbs like the god Apollo or something. And the Greek god comparison wasn’t an exaggeration between the light shining on him, and the chiseled muscles, and the perfect . . . He was sort of like a living version of the statue of the David, but tanned and with lots of chest hair.

“Who’s there!” he called out.

Emma gasped, then cursed under her breath as she turned and left, slamming the door behind her. She sagged against the heavy oak door, her heart racing. She groaned and covered her face with the hand that wasn’t still clutching the bottle of cleanser and rag. Had she just stood there and stared at the guy? Oh god, she had.

Suddenly, the door behind her gave way and Emma fell backwards with a yelp. From her place on the floor, she looked up to see Apollo himself standing above her, smirking, wearing nothing but a pair of tight, white briefs. Did he look . . . pleased with himself? She suddenly realized she was clutching the bottle of cleanser to her chest.

“Like what you saw, darling?” he asked with an arched brow. He had a British accent. Of course.

Emma rolled her eyes at him as she struggled to her feet, irritatingly brushing off his attempts to assist her. “Please, I didn’t even look. Do you think I want to burn my retinas?”

His eyes, which were an amazing shade of blue, seemed alight with mirth as he regarded her. “Then why the blush?” He leaned towards her slightly, his encroachment upon her personal space made all the more infuriating by his lack of clothing. She took a step back towards the doorway.

“Oh great,” she snapped, “you’re that type.”

His brow furrowed, and for a moment he actually looked slightly hurt. “What type?”

Emma crossed her arms across her chest, despite the awkwardness of the cleaning supplies clutched in her hand. “Isn’t it obvious? I mean, seriously, who uses a tanning bed in the middle of the winter? Except for –“ she vaguely gestured up and down his person, “wanna-be Calvin Klein underwear models.”

It was his turn to scowl and cross his arms over his chest. His very appealing chest that Emma was trying really hard not to stare at.

“Or maybe some people do it for their health. You ever think of that?”

“Yeah right,” Emma bit out, “health of what? Your sex life, playboy?”

His blue eyes sparked with indignation. “Oh, you get an eye-full and you suddenly know me?”

Guilt pricked at her for a moment. She was in the wrong here for barging in without knocking. But his smirking and innuendos had her defenses up. “I know your type,” she told him smugly with a tilt of her chin.

“You walk in on me, and I’m the bad guy?”

He had a point, and she knew it. She took several more steps backwards into the hallway and turned on her heel, her ponytail swinging with irritation all its own. “Ugh, I’ve got work to do. Wipe the bed down, I get tired of cleaning up other people’s sweat all day.”

Emma half expected him to get in one last word, but as she marched away, all she heard was the slamming of the door to tanning room three.

***********************************************************

The week of her little embarrassing tanning bed episode, there had been a slight lull at the gym. It had been the last week of January, when New Year’s resolutions were waning and the cold weather dampened people’s motivation. But now people seemed to suddenly realize that Valentine’s Day was only two weeks away, and the gym was once again packed. Even the indoor pool had been in more frequent usage, so Emma’s boss sent her to check the chlorine levels. With the flu epidemic, they couldn’t afford to let germs spread in the warm water.

It had also been a week since Emma had seen “Apollo the sun god,” much to her relief. But when she exited the women’s locker room, into the pool area, there he was: his muscular back an appealing sight as his arms cut through the water. He was evidently an experienced swimmer as he turned off the wall expertly and did a strong backstroke across the length of the pool. Emma shook her head and cursed herself. Damn it, she was staring again!

Emma was leaning over the edge, a nice distance away from the tanning god, getting samples of the water in little test tubes. She was shaking the first one to get a result when she was sprayed with little droplets of water. She looked up, her eyes angry, narrow slits, to see him, treading water easily with a maddening grin on his face. The pool water made his blue eyes almost glitter like sapphires, and he looked unfairly sexy wet.

“I’ve been hoping to see you again,” he told her. “We didn’t exactly get off on the right foot. I’m sorry I teased you, I was just trying to help you see the humor in the situation. It came off wrong, obviously.”

Emma purposely ignored him, staring at the little tube in her hand and trying to remember what the hell she was looking at. He cut through the water towards her, and rested his arm on the edge of the pool inches away from where she crouched.

“I’m Killian Jones by the way,” he said. Emma pressed her lips together in frustration as she blushed for absolutely no reason. She still refused to look at him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him cock his head. “And this is the part where you say, hello, I’m Emma Swan.”

She jerked her head so fast, she almost dropped the test tube. “How did you –“

“I can read, love,” he laughed, gesturing towards her right shoulder.

Emma groaned as she glanced down at her employee name tag. She got hit on all the time at the gym, and had heard a million different pick-up lines involving her last name. But she had sworn off men since Neal, except for an occasional one night stand. But those were never men from work; too much familiarity.

“Some men would take your silence as off-putting,” Killian told her then with a smirk, “but I love a challenge.” Then he had the audacity to wink before diving back under the water.

Emma rubbed her forehead wearily as she stood. The water was low on chemicals, so she pushed the handsome swimmer/sun bather from her mind as she collected what she needed from the supply closet. She measured the chlorine as well as a small dose of shock and added it to the filtration system, then she headed back for the locker room.

Emma wasn’t sure exactly what happened next. There was a puddle of water on the tile floor deep enough to send her sensible sneakers sliding out from under her. Then her arms were wind-milling in empty air, and the pool water seemed to be rushing up to meet her. But before she could hit the water, a hand shot out and grasped her by the elbow. She was hauled from the pool edge, colliding with a warm, wet, very masculine chest.

Killian Jones chuckled as his other arm came around her. “Next time, don’t stand on ceremony.”

Emma blamed her shocked surprise for her delayed reaction in pulling away from him. “Please, Jones, don’t flatter yourself.”

He tucked his tongue into his cheek and waggled his eyebrows, “Remembering yesterday?”

Emma fumed as she gave him a disdainful once-over. “I’m just shocked you’re not in a speedo, mister tighty-whitey.”

Killian’s eyes widened and his gaze went from playful to irritated. “You wouldn’t even know I wore tighty-whities if you hadn’t walked in on me!”

Emma threw up her hands in frustration, resisting the urge to shove him. “It was an accident!”

He arched one brow. “Like you almost falling in the pool?”

Emma scoffed as she crossed her arms over her chest, “Who said I was falling?”

“Fine,” he spat out, “next time, I’ll just let you fall.”

He brushed past her then, grabbing his towel angrily as he marched towards the men’s locker room. Emma started to stomp her way in the opposite direction, but then decided she better tread more carefully on the wet floor.

Not that she had needed Killian Jones to catch her. She was just fine on her own.

********************************************************

Several hours later, Emma walked into her apartment and kicked her gym shoes off by the door. Her feet ached as she dragged herself over to the couch and plopped down next to her roommate. She groaned and Elsa laughed, handing her a slice of pizza from the pie resting on the coffee table.

“Rough day?”

“Yeah,” Emma muttered around a bite, “tanning bed guy showed up again.”

“Oh,” Elsa laughed, wrinkling her nose, “that must have been embarrassing.”

Emma waved her hand. “Don’t want to talk about it. I just want to stuff my face with pizza and zone out in front of the TV.” She narrowed her eyes at the screen and groaned, “Not this, Elsa, seriously?”

Her best friend shook her head as she chuckled at Emma. “Dr. Oz gives lots of good advice.” She poked Emma in the shoulder. “You should listen to him, junk food junkie. How you’re ever going to be a personal trainer when you eat like a fourteen year old, is beyond me.”

Emma smirked and lifted two fingers, “One, I was gifted with an amazing metabolism. Two, my clients will just need to do as I say, not as I do.”

They both laughed then and continued devouring the pizza. Emma’s brow furrowed as she tried to follow the show, since she had missed the first half. “What’s wrong with this girl he’s talking to?” she finally asked Elsa.

“Seasonal affective disorder,” Elsa explained, “lots of people get it in the winter.”

Emma snorted. “Is that a real thing? It sounds made up.”

Elsa shrugged, “I don’t understand it, since I love winter. The snow is so pretty, and the cold – I just don’t get why it bothers people.”

Emma rolled her eyes and tossed a throw pillow at her friends’ head, “Okay, you’re weird, we’ve established that.”

Elsa whacked Emma with the pillow then hugged it to her chest instead of giving it back. “Seriously though, it is a real thing. My friend at work struggles with it. I finally talked him into seeing a therapist, and Killian says it really helps him. Some things that help are physical, like –“

The blood had drained from Emma’s face as she choked out, “like a tanning bed?”

Elsa’s eyes widened, “Yeah, actually, and he swims in an indoor pool, too. Why?”

Emma groaned, dropping her pizza back to the box. She covered her face with both hands. “Please,” she muttered between her fingers, “don’t tell me his last name is Jones and that he has a British accent.”

“Yeah, he –“ Elsa’s words cut off as understanding dawned, “oh my god, you’re not saying he’s the tanning bed guy?”

Emma peeked through her fingers, “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. He introduced himself today – at the pool. Trying to be nice, actually.” She moaned as she lowered her head to Elsa’s lap. “I’m a bitch,” she whispered.

Elsa just gave a tiny, soft laugh as she worked the tangles out of Emma’s hair with her long fingers. “Well, so am I, that’s why we’re friends.”

*****************************************************

Emma hoped that good intentions justified quasi-stalking. She had to make it up to Killian for being so horrible, and she couldn’t just wait around to bump into him again. She pulled his account up on her work computer and learned his gym routine. Killian Jones was an extremely punctual person of habit. On Tuesdays and Thursdays he got to the gym at 5 am and left at 6:30. Emma didn’t get to her shift on those days until 8:00. But on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, he arrived at 7:00 pm and left at 8:30, which were the same days that Emma worked late.

Unfortunately, Elsa informed her that Killian had come down with the dreaded flu. By the time he came back to the gym, and Emma had figured out how to approach him, it was February the 14th. It wasn’t ideal to approach him on Valentine’s Day. After all, she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. But if she put it off any longer, she knew she would chicken out. So on Valentine’s Day, when Killian Jones exited the gym, he found Emma Swan leaning against his black SUV with a smoothie in her hand. (That had taken additional stalking. To ascertain the smoothie he usually ordered and which vehicle in the parking lot belonged to him.)

“A peace offering?” Emma asked, hating when her voice cracked a bit. When he just stood there with his mouth hanging open, she rushed on, “And an apology? For walking in on you and then. . .well, for being a bitch.”

That finally got a chuckle out of him. He shuffled forward, and for the first time looked nervous. He tossed his bag in the back seat then turned to her with a smile as he leaned against the car with his arms crossed. “What brought on this sudden change?”

Emma’s face fell, and her eyes lowered to stare at the cup in her hand. “Your friend, Elsa Arrendale? I’m her roommate.”

“Oh,” Killian said, scratching behind his ear.

“And she didn’t tell me much,” Emma rushed to explain, “just enough to make me see how quick I was to judge you.”

Killian nodded. “So she told you I’m a mess this time of year, huh?”

Emma smiled and shrugged, “Hey, not everyone loves freezing their ass off the way Elsa does.” That got another chuckle out of him. “And besides, I’m a mess pretty much year round.”

“Well,” Killian said with a long sigh, “I was too, for a while. Right after my Milah died, I could barely get out of bed each morning. That was five years ago.”

Emma frowned. “I’m so sorry. Who was she? Your wife?”

“Aye,” Killian answered softly, “she died in a car accident. This time of year. We were going out on a nice date.”

“Valentine’s day?”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head and a false grin, “my birthday, actually, end of January.”

“I’m so sorry, Killian. No wonder this time of year is so hard for you.” She bit her lip. “Can you ever forgive me for being such a jerk to you?”

He ran his hand down his face, and afterwards, he gave her a more relaxed smile. “Of course I forgive you, Swan. I do make an arse of myself at times, so I can’t really blame you.”

They shared a laugh at that. Emma cocked her head, studying him and seeing him in a whole new light. “You have Valentine plans?”

Both his eyebrows lifted, “Can’t say I do. Why?”

She shrugged, “How about I buy you a drink?” She shook the smoothie cup still in her hand. “A bit stronger than this.”

Killian gave her a sinful smile, cocked his head, and tapped his lips. “I’d say you owe me a proper apology, love.”

Emma wanted to scoff, to roll her eyes, but all she could do was smile as a blush crept up her face. “That’s what the drink is for.”

Killian pouted then, quite affectively. “That’s all I get? When this time of year makes me so, so sad?”

What Emma did next was partly to shut him up. However, she had to admit, it was also because she had imagined what it would be like to kiss him a thousand times since the tanning bed. So she lunged for him, the smoothie falling to the ground forgotten with a thud and a splash. She hauled him in by the collar of his shirt, her mouth hungrily taking his.

Because she could admit it now: Yes, she liked what she saw.

#cs ff #cs fanfic #cs valentine fic #meet-cute #sort of #humor

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 2 years ago

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Valentine’s Rerun (1 of 2): Cupid’s Grenade

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26@bethacaciakay @ultraluckycatnd @effulgent-mind @ilovemesomekillianjones @kat2609 @brooke-to-broch @missgymgirl @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @daxx04 @nickillian @in-spirational @gillie @britishguyslover @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst @kmomof4 @linda8084 @golfgirld @captain-swan-coffee @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious @laughswaytoomuch @allyourdarlingswans @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82 @therooksshiningknight, @lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree @jrob64 @anmylica @cosette141

Originally part of my Fluffy Fridays collection. When a mysterious stranger comes to town and sets off a magical grenade in Granny’s during the breakfast rush on the day before Valentine’s Day, the residents of the town suddenly feel extra amorous. What will Emma and Killian do if the spell doesn’t wear off?

CS Genre: Canon divergence from early 3b

He crossed the town line into Storybrooke late on the night of February 12th. He walked for half a mile before he reached anything resembling civilization, wanting nothing more than a place to rest and regroup, a place to plan his next move.

It had been an extraordinarily bad year. So much discord, so much division everywhere he turned. It drained his energy, his very life source like nothing had since the last Ogre War. He needed an infusion, and he needed one fast. Thank the gods Valentine’s Day was little more than a day away.

He passed a shop, dark and closed, caught his reflection in the picture window and jumped back, startled, bringing one wrinkled, bony hand to his equally wrinkled, bony face. He was even further gone than he’d previously believed. He could only hope the rumors about this sleepy little town were true.

“Storybrooke, that’s where you want to go,” the seer had assured him. “Not only is it the only source of magic in this land, but it’s brimming with True Love, both that which is acknowledged, and that which is denied.”

If he had any hope to survive the week, he needed that True Love.

If this world had any hope to survive, they needed him just as badly.

He walked slowly, laboriously, looking for the most opportune place. Town hall? No, it emitted angry energy, a place of discord. A brick building with a sign over the door calling itself The Rabbit Hole was promising, but still not quite right. Finally, he arrived at an establishment with tables and chairs on the terrace, a bright, neon sign proclaiming Granny’s.

Perfect.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

The next morning, Granny’s

Killian stepped from his room in the bed and breakfast and headed downstairs to the cafe where he was to meet Swan and her parents for a quick strategy meeting while they dined on Granny’s delectable fare.

He smiled to himself, an extra spring in his step as he walked. The situation in which the residents of Storybrooke found themselves was, once again, less than ideal. An unknown, unnamed villain had cursed them back to Storybrooke and wiped their memories of the past year, and no one had any idea why. He should be concerned; he knew he should, but he couldn’t stop the joy that bubbled up within his heart.

Selfish though the thought was, he was grateful for the villain’s machinations, grateful for the curse.

For it was the curse that allowed him to cross worlds, the curse that allowed him to be reunited with his Swan, the curse that ended the hell that had been the last year without her.

Oh, he’d tried to convince himself that he’d merely needed to return to his pirate lifestyle, but every step he took away from her, away from the hero he’d tried to become for her, had felt wrong, made him feel her loss even more acutely.

Slowly, but surely he’d come to realize that it was more than just the loss of the love of his life that made his pirate activities lose their luster. He’d changed. Not just because of her, but because of himself. He wanted to be a good man, a hero.

Killian stepped into the cafe. Early though it was, the sun had barely come up, the establishment was already brimming with business. He scanned the tables until he saw her sitting at a booth across from her parents.

His heart turned over. She was so bloody beautiful, so bloody precious to him.

He knew she was hesitant to embrace life here in Storybrooke once again. She loved her parents, held at least some amount of affection for him, but the weight of being The Savior hung heavy on her. He couldn’t blame her for wishing to retain the seemingly peaceful existence she’d lived with her lad in New York.

Still, she’d come back with him, had agreed to help her family, the whole town, defeat the newest threat to their safety. He could only hope to one day exhibit half her courage and selflessness.

“Hook, you finally made it,” Swan said, scooting over and patting the seat next to her. “After all your talk about being a pirate and rising with the sun I thought I was going to have to go up and drag your butt out of bed.”

Killian gratefully took the seat next to Emma, using all his willpower to avoid imagining Emma coming to his bed.

“I rise with the sun, darling,” he said with a grin, “but it would seem you lot couldn’t wait for that auspicious occasion.”

Emma looked down, playing with the handle of her mug of cocoa. “Yeah, well we wanted to make sure and meet early enough that we could talk before Henry wakes up. Don’t want the kid to get freaked out with mentions of curses and villains and whatever other crap we need to discuss. He doesn’t have his memories, after all.”

Snow White reached across the table and covered her daughter’s hand on her mug. “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll find a way to bring back Henry’s memories. Somehow. And until then everyone here has agreed to live like that sleepy, normal town we thought we were during the curse.”

Emma glanced aside, a look of guilt on her face, and not for the first time, Killian wondered if she even wanted her son to regain his memories. He could feel the turmoil coming off of her in waves and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and sooth the tension away.

But he knew his Swan better than that. She’d rebuilt the fortress around her heart over the last, long year of separation, and it would take him some time to help her disassemble it; some time before his advances were once again tolerated, let alone welcomed.

“Okay,” Emma said, after a deep breath, “so we know someone cursed you. We know a year has gone by that you don’t remember. We know crossing the town line turns people into, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, flying monkeys. Anything else I’m missing?”

“I had a conversation with the dwarfs,” David answered, “and after their latest patrol at the town line, they found…”

Suddenly the door to the diner was slammed open, the bell above ringing angrily. The entire diner went silent, still, as the oldest man Killian had ever seen walked slowly in until he was standing in the very center of the room. Dressed all in red, quite the dapper tuxedo and top hat at that, the man walked, hunched over, leaning heavily on a cane. Every eye was on him as he stopped, looked at the gaudy Valentine’s Day decorations Granny had hung, shaking his head at the Cupid with his bow and arrow, and then reached into his breast pocket.

Killian watched, fascinated as he pulled out a small red object in the shape of a heart, pulled a pin from its center, tossed it to the floor and then slowly began walking away.

“Grenade!” Leroy shouted as the object began smoking.

Chaos ensued as the cafe’s patrons scrambled to reach the exits, but it was clear they’d never be free of the building in time. Killian reacted on instinct, moving to cover Swan’s body with his own just as a large “boom!” filled the diner as the heart-shaped object exploded.

He waited for the shock, the pain as the explosive blasted him, but it never came. He looked up to see nothing but a pink, shimmering cloud billowing from the heart, suffusing the diner, and then dissipating.

For a moment he felt an intense burst of love and longing for the woman beside him, and he instinctively looked down into her startled eyes, but then she blinked, and the spell was over. Killian shook his head and sat up, resuming his own seat on the bench.

For a moment, a shocked silence fell over the room, and then an excited buzz began as Granny’s patrons realized they had indeed survived the...whatever the blazes that had been.

“What the hell was that?!” Emma ground out.

“I don’t know,” Dave said, “but I have a feeling we really need to find out.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Later that afternoon

“Cupid? You’re telling me that old guy was Cupid?”

Emma ground her teeth in frustration, keeping her hands resolutely in her jeans pockets lest she do something stupid like grab her pirate (no! Not her pirate) and kiss the daylights out of him.

What was wrong with her?

After the heart grenade had gone off in Granny’s this morning, she, her parents and Hook had found Belle in Gold’s shop to pick her brain, see if she had any idea who the mysterious old man was.

Of all the answers Belle could have given them, “It appears Cupid has come to Storybrooke,” was the last one Emma had expected.

Of course Cupid was real too, because...of course he was.

Belle reached under the counter and retrieved an old book decorated with flowers and hearts. Flipping through several pages, she turned the tome toward them, pointing to a photograph of a very old man.

“That’s him,” Snow said, “that’s the man who...did whatever he did to us.”

“Like I said,” Belle said, turning the book back toward her. “It seems we’ve been visited by Cupid.”

“Who and what is Cupid?” Killian asked from her side. (Emma ground her teeth again, determinedly ignoring the way his velvety voice made the butterflies in her chest flutter and come to life. Ignoring the intense affection she suddenly felt for him. Ignoring the sudden desire to lace her fingers with his.)

“Best I can tell,” Belle said, “he’s a deity of some kind. He, for lack of a better word, feeds on love. It’s his source of sustenance. The more the world around him is depleted of love, the older, frailer he becomes.”

“And what does that have to do with the grenade or whatever that he tossed at us?” Emma asked.

Belle flipped a couple of pages, and then pointed down at a passage of text. “That’s the interesting part. You see, February 14, Valentine’s Day is his big day of love harvest every year. His grenades contain a powerful spell that...encourages love and affection in everyone on which the spell falls. It reaches its peak in 24 hours, which makes today, February 13 the perfect day to launch it.”

Emma groaned. “A love spell? Are you telling me freaking Cupid cast a love spell on all of us? One that won’t wear off until tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid so,” Belle answered.

Well, that was just...just…

Actually that was kind of reassuring.

From the second that damn grenade had gone off, Emma had been feeling things she couldn’t explain, things she didn’t want to feel, things she’d been working hard at denying ever since Neverland, maybe even before.

As soon as the spell had cleared, she’d looked up into Killian’s intense blue eyes and felt wave after wave of want, of longing, of...of...love crash over her. She wanted to hold him, kiss him, hold his hand, touch him.

But that wasn’t the worst part. Physical attraction she could handle. Hook was hot, there was no denying that. Feeling a physical pull to him, that was understandable. If she didn’t think it would give him the wrong impression, she’d have no problem giving into her urges. She’d had plenty of one-nighters in the past.

But it wasn’t just physical attraction she felt following the pink, sparkly cloud. No, it was emotions as well. She had the sudden need to talk to him alone, to tell him that she’d somehow missed him during the last year, even though she didn’t remember him. That some part of her had been so intensely happy to see him there at her apartment door that she could hardly contain herself. That his attempted True Love’s Kiss...she didn’t knee him because he’d assaulted her, she’d kneed him because it felt right, like she was coming home and that totally freaked her out. She wanted to tell him she was glad he’d found her, glad he was by her side, glad he’d brought her home.

But that, all of that, was crazy. She didn’t do emotions, didn’t let herself be that vulnerable with another person, someone who could destroy her if she let him.

So all things considered? Finding out she was feeling all this due to a stupid love potion was a relief.

All she had to do was grin and bear it until the spell wore off tomorrow and then everything would be back to normal.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Granny’s Bed and Breakfast, February 15, 2 hours before dawn

Emma tossed and turned, her fitful sleep punctuated by dreams. Disturbing, troubling dreams.

Dreams where she walked with Hook, hand in hand, down by the docks. Where they talked and kissed. He smiled at her and she smiled back. They were both radiantly, blissfully happy. He led her back to his ship (where was his ship, by the way? She was pretty sure she hadn’t seen it since they’d come back to Storybrooke), down to his captain’s quarters.

She teased him about his tiny bed, he’d laughed along with her, wiggling his expressive eyebrows in that ridiculous way of his, joking that it wasn’t the size, it was what you did with it. He’d swaggered to her, invaded her space, threaded his fingers through her hair as he leaned down and captured her lips….

Henry mumbled something in his sleep, and Emma woke with a start.

The dream had been so damn lifelike. She could still feel Killian’s hand in her hair, feel his lips against hers. Bringing a hand to her chest, Emma willed her heart rate to slow. Why was this happening to her?

The last 36 hours had been torture. Pure, beautiful, intense torture.

Her feelings for Killian had grown and strengthened as the 13th and then the 14th wore on, and though she knew they weren’t real, knew they were caused solely by Cupid’s stupid love spell, more than once she’d almost cracked, almost thrown caution to the wind and bared her heart to the man who was constantly in her thoughts.

Emma had been half sure Hook would use the curse to try to get close to her. She was afraid he’d declare himself again, try to force her into an awkward conversation about the feelings they held for each other, but she needn’t have worried. Killian seemed no more eager to explore the effects of the love spell than she was. He’d left the library soon after Belle explained their predicament, and he’d kept his distance ever since.

He’s giving you space. He doesn’t want to pressure you, to take advantage. He’s always a gentleman.

Emma felt a rush of affection yet again, and that alone frustrated her beyond belief. It was February 15, the day after Valentine’s Day. Why hadn’t the spell worn off?

Emma groaned, getting up and tossing on a sweatshirt and slippers. Clearly she wasn’t getting anymore sleep tonight. Better she go down to the diner and get some cocoa rather than risk waking Henry with her frustration.

“Hey, Ruby,” she said on a yawn, settling on a stool at the counter. “Hope I didn’t startle you. I know you’re not exactly open yet.”

“Emma!” she said, stepping around the counter and giving Emma a quick hug. “I’m a wolf, remember? Heard you tossing and turning half the night. Something on your mind?”

Emma buried her head in her hands. “Got any cocoa?”

“Uh oh,” Ruby said, turning to give Emma her full attention. “Is this a regular cocoa with cinnamon conversation or a cocoa with rum conversation?”

“Rum,” Emma mumbled. “Definitely rum.”

Ruby tossed her a sympathetic smile, and then turned toward the kitchen. A few minutes later she returned with a fragrant, steaming mug of cocoa. Sliding it Emma’s way, Ruby leaned on the counter. “Okay, spill. What’s going on?”

“So who was it with you?” Emma asked. “You were here the other morning when Cupid dropped his bomb. Who’d it make you think you love?”

Ruby gave her a strange look. “Who’d it make me….? Emma, what are you talking about?”

“You know, the grenade thing,” Emma said. “I figure it made you think you were in love with the closest person to you. Something like that? I was just wondering who it made you love.”

“Emma, you know magic can’t make you fall in love with someone, right?”

Emma shrugged, then took a sip of her cocoa. “I know it can’t create real love, but I mean, it was a spell, right? Maybe it makes people think they’re feeling things they aren’t.”

Ruby’s smile was far, far too knowing. “Hook right?”

“What?”

“After the whole love cloud thing, it was Hook that you fell for.”

Emma groaned, making Ruby smile all the wider. “Knew it! Knew the hot pirate had your panties in a twist.”

“Ruby!”

“Sorry,” she said, looking anything but. “I just call ‘em like I see ‘em, and from what I see of the two of you around here everyday? Yeah the sparks flying from the two of you could start a forest fire.”

Emma felt her cheeks flush and buried her face in her hands again. “Ruby, it was just…”

“Don’t even think about saying it was just Cupid’s grenade,” Ruby said, “because, one, I’ve seen the two of you together since long behind that old man dropped his love bomb on everyone. Two, like I told you, no magic can create love. And three, you know who I suddenly fell in love with?”

Emma looked up, one eyebrow raised in question.

“No one,” Ruby said. “Nothing changed for me at all. You know why that was? It’s because if there is a person for me out there, they’re not here in Storybrooke.”

“But the cloud…”

Ruby shook her head. “Emma, you and your family aren’t the only ones who talk to Belle and do research, you know. After Cupid’s little stunt I paid her a visit too. Wanted to know what was going on as much as you guys did. I discovered that Cupid feeds on love. Real love. True love. Fake, artificially created love would do nothing for him. So his spell doesn’t make people feel things they don’t; it just helps people focus on the things they actually feel.”

Emma’s heart pounded. “So you’re telling me, the hell I’ve been going through for the past day and a half…”

Ruby grinned again. “Yep. You, Emma Swan, have the hots for Killian Jones. Cupid or no Cupid. Besides, Cupid’s spell wore off several hours ago. If it was fake, you’d have gone back to normal by now.”

Emma took one last swig of her cocoa and then carefully placed the mug back on its coaster. “So what am I supposed to do with this now? How am I supposed to proceed?”

Ruby shrugged, walking to the diner’s door, turning the lock and flipping the sign to open. “That’s totally up to you, but my two cents? Go talk to him. Tell him what you’re thinking and feeling. That unsettling feeling isn’t going to go away until you do.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Killian heard a soft tentative knock on his door and he groaned, swimming reluctantly from the depths of sleep. He’d been having such a good dream, such a beautiful dream. He’d walked with Swan by the docks, taken her aboard the Jolly (how he missed his old girl, though he’d barter her away a million times if it meant he could be with Swan). She’d joked with him about the size of his bunk. He’d kissed her….

Knock, knock, knock

Killian groaned, noting from the pitch black of his window that it was not even dawn yet. He hoped whoever was out there had a bloody good reason for disturbing him.

Tossing on a white undershirt and flannel sleep pants, Killian padded to the door and threw it open.

His irritated “What?” died on his lips when he saw his visitor. Bathed in the soft light of Granny’s hallway, her hair soft against her shoulders, Swan looked like an angel. Killian resisted the urge to pinch himself, half convinced he was still dreaming.

He swallowed hard.

“So, um, can I come in?” she asked with a self-conscious little smile.

Killian snapped his mouth shut and quickly stepped back, gesturing with his hook for her to enter while he flicked the switch that bathed his room with light.

“Of course, love,” he said quickly. “Please, have a seat.”

She looked around and sat on the edge of the second double bed in his room, the one he had not used, and then looked down, picking at a loose thread on the counterpane.

She’s nervous.

Killian’s curiosity was piqued. Why had she come to him at this time of the morning? What could have her so rattled?

“So,” he said finally, when it was clear she wasn’t going to speak first, “what brings you to my room, love?”

“It’s just…” She started, before abruptly standing and turning toward the door. “Ugh, this was a mistake. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have disturbed you.”

He rose quickly, stepping between her and the door. “Please, Swan. Something’s obviously on your mind. Share your burden with me?”

She took a deep breath, and then nodded.

“It’s the whole Cupid love spell thing,” she said finally.

Killian suddenly looked aside, hand absentmindedly coming up to scratch behind his ear. “Love, you needn’t say anything. I’ve no wish to pressure you, no wish to hear a declaration bourne artificially out of a spell…”

“That’s just it,” she said, stepping into his space, placing her hands on his arms. “I...I...it didn’t go away. The spell wore off yesterday, right? I’m still feeling everything I was feeling then.”

He looked at her quickly, eyes widened, hope blooming within him in spite of himself. “What are you saying, love?”

“I’m saying...look, I don’t know what I’m saying,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him until they were seated, facing each other on his bed. “But there’s, there’s something there between us. I’m really glad it was you that found Henry and me in New York. I’m glad you came back to Storybrooke with me. I, I feel better with you beside me. I’m grateful that you’re there to listen when, you know, things get to be too much. I can’t guarantee I won’t get scared again, and I can’t guarantee I won’t, I don’t know, build walls again, but I just wanted to let you know, at least once, that if we ever just have a peaceful moment in this town...maybe I’d be willing to see where things could go.”

His heart turned over, and he reached up to cup her cheek, couldn’t help himself. Smiling gently, he leaned down and kissed her softly, almost reverently. “Swan,” he breathed on a sigh. “You’ve no need to thank me. By your side is where I’ll always wish to be.”

“Good,” she said softly before leaning in to return his kiss with interest.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

He stopped outside Granny’s Bed and Breakfast and looked up at the single illumined window. Breathing deeply, he smiled to himself. His harvest was complete, and what a harvest it had been!

Passing the same shop he’d passed on his way into town he took a look at his reflection. He stood tall and strong, skin smooth and youthful, hair sandy and neatly combed. He was young and handsome once more.

He started walking toward the edge of town but then stopped, thinking better of it. It was true what they said about this town; it was overflowing with love. Perhaps he’d stick around for a while.

#cs ff #captain swan fanfiction #cs 3b canon divergence #cs valentine's day fic

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kmomof4 · 5 years ago

Text

Me and Mrs. Jones

Fluffy, romantic prompt from @winterbythesea. Svenja was looking for some mood music, and this song was on the list. With her blessing, I decided to write it.

Beta services provided by @hollyethecurious and @profdanglaisstuff. Thank you ladies!!!

Ao3 link

Tagging my peeps: @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @snowbellewells @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @jennjenn615 @kingofmyheart14 @profdanglaisstuff @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

Under the cut unless Tumblr ate it.

Me and Mrs. Jones

We got a thing going on

We both know that it's wrong

But it's much too strong to let it go now

we meet everyday, at the same cafe

6: 30 and no one knows she'll be there

Holding hands, making all kinds of plans

While the jukebox plays our favorite song

Me and Mrs., Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones

We got a thing going on

Both know that it's wrong

But it's much too strong to let it go now

We gotta be extra careful

That we don't build our hopes up too high

'Cause she's got her own obligations

And so do I

Me and Mrs., Mrs. Jones

Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones

Well, it's time for us to be leaving

And it hurts so much, it hurts so much inside

And now she'll go her way and I'll go mine

But tomorrow we'll meet at the same place, the same time

Me and Mrs., Mrs., Mrs., Mrs. Jones

(Same place)

We both know that it's wrong

(Same time)

everyday at the same cafe

(Same place)

We got a thing going on, you know it's wrong

(Same time)

Killian Jones sauntered back toward the booth where his wife sat drinking her cocoa as the opening chords of Me and Mrs. Jones floated into a deserted Granny’s diner from the jukebox. Making his way from the back hallway, he pushed the small tables and chairs out of the way, making a wider space next to the booth where he had been sitting. Extending his hand out to his bride, he murmured into her ear, “May I have this dance, Mrs. Jones?”

She lifted her emerald gaze to his with a raised eyebrow and smirk. Placing her hand in his, she rose gracefully from the booth as he drew her into her arms. Her body lined up perfectly to his as they began to sway while the smooth timbre of Billie Paul filled the diner.

Me and Mrs. Jones

We got a thing going on

He crooned the lyrics into her ear as he tightened his hold around her. Placing an open mouth kiss on her neck, he relished her gasp and shiver of pleasure, before whispering his alternative to the next line of the song in her ear.

We both know that there’s nothin’ wrong

And it’s much too strong to let it go now

He pulled back from his beloved with a raised eyebrow and a glint of desire in his eyes as he spun her out and then pulled her back into the hard planes of his body. Swaying again, Killian raised his hand to her hair before lowering his face to hers for a kiss.

Holding hands, making all kinds of plans

While the jukebox plays our favorite song

Emma trembled in his arms as their tongues dueled and hands roamed. The diner may have been deserted, even Granny leaving for the night, but the blinds were still open and anyone out on the street might be able to see the late-night liaison between the Savior and her pirate, but he’d be damned if he cared. His hand in his Swan’s golden locks while his hooked arm was around her waist, pulling her even closer against him.

Releasing her lips and resting his forehead against hers, he whispered the next lyrics of the song into the millimeters between their lips.

Me and Mrs., Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones

We got a thing going on

He groaned before he captured her lips again as her hands made their way under his waistcoat and shirt and then the waistband of his jeans.

“Ohhhh, Mrs. Jones,” he gasped, releasing her again as her hand brushed against where he was hard and aching for her. “There’s not a thing wrong, is there?” he inquired, pulling back from her slightly and staring into her lust glazed eyes.

“Mmmmm,” she hummed, “No, not a thing, Mr. Jones.” He drew her back, tightly into his arms as she nuzzled her face into his neck and placed a gentle kiss on his pulse point. “But I think it’s time to take this to a more private location. Don’t you?” She placed another kiss on his collar before leaning back to look in his eyes.

“Right you are, Mrs. Jones,” he agreed. He bumped her nose with his as the song was beginning to wind down.

But tomorrow we'll meet at the same place, the same time

Me and Mrs., Mrs., Mrs., Mrs. Jones

(Same place)

…

(Same time)

…

With a flick of her wrist, they were enveloped in a cloud of white smoke. Reappearing in their bedroom at home, he drew her into a passionate embrace before loving her long into the night.

Fin

#cs fic #krystal writes #me and mrs jones #romantic fluff #valentines fluff #prompt by winterbythesea

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