#the fucking bond they shared. they were fully themselves without restraint together for such a short blip of time.

[clockwork-carstairs]

friendly reminder that the only thing will would’ve changed about his life was to have more jem in it

just going to go tear my hair out and sob violently into my hands :)

[nautiscarader]

Smutember day 6 - swap

So, I tried writing prompt number 7 yesterday, but I ran into an issue where I couldn’t imagine either of the couples you have suggested into a believable swap scenario. So, I decided to call a mulligan and choose my own... especially ince I couldn’t find an ask/cc ask of one of those other pairings anyway. As a result, this might be less polished than I wanted it to be.

Smutember day 6, swap, Alyadrien + Ninette, E, 1.8k

(Ao3)

If you liked my story, here’s a Ko-fi link if you’d be so kind ❤️.    

===============================================

The logs in the fireplace crackled with delicate noises, but none of them reached the ears of the four inhabitants of a winter lodge in the Alps. For once, they would have to rival with the sensual music, seeping from the phone, and providing relaxing background. Second obstacle would be the sound of mattress springs, having to withstand the weight and rapid movements of four young, horny adults that, despite spending a day skiing still had energy for anything, let alone love-making. And finally, they would have to defeat the cries and moans of four miraculous bearers, engulfed in a furious storm of passion.

It was difficult to think that when Alya, Nino, Marinette and Adrien arrived at the cabin once belonging Adrien's mother four days ago, the two couples were intending to stay as innocent as possible, especially given limited space. Was it the fondue, coupled with a bottle of excellent wine that loosened their tongues and their clothes? Or was it the excellent understanding the four developed over the years of fighting crime, real and supernatural.  

Neither of them knew, and neither of them cared. The two beds were pressed together to create one massive space, large enough for the four creative young adults to frolic without any restraints. One one side, Marinette mewled with every gentle move of Adrien's hips, letting out short moans in between, unless his mouth wasn't currently occupied with kissing her. Her legs and her right arm were closed tightly around his back, while the fingers of her left hand were intertwined with those of Alya's, whom she could observe as she was bouncing next to her.

Keen to establish dominance, Alya used all of her power to ride her boyfriend, first his mouth, and then his cock, with an aim to drain him of his seed, and so far, it looked like she was on a right track. Her hips moved seductively up and down, as well back and forth, as if Alya was dancing to some erotic, carnal rhythm, and that in turn only made Nino's grip on her waist tighter.

It wasn't the first time for the four miraculous bearers to have sex together, though they've never shared the same bed. What started as double dates, quickly turned into double visits to the beach, double trips to the changing booths, double renting of hotel rooms, and finally to double sex on the rooftops of Paris, as the superheroines found themselves particularly attracted to love-making in the open air.

The warmth of the air inside the cozy lodge, combined with the heat of the alcohol in their bodies and the fire that kept burning between their loins made the girls tighten the grip of their fingers, as they both felt they were edging closer and closer to their climaxes. To the surprise of everyone, Alya arched her back and cried Nino's name first, collapsing on top of him with her body shivering and quaking as if she was left in the freezing blizzard outside. Her orgasm dragged Nino with her, and his low grunts continued to dominate their side of the bed with every portion of seed he deposited inside her. When Alya lifted her leg, for a split of a second Marinette saw the huge dollop of cum leaking out of her pussy, and that was the drop that pushed her over the edge. She dug her nails into Adrien's back and mewled his name, surrendering herself to him.

Adrien wanted to prolong Marinette's pleasure, by extending his slow and tender love-making, but having now not one, but three spectators of his athletic skills, he lost it too, hilting himself inside her one last time, flooding her womb with his cum, as a final note of the quartet's performance.

Adrien's lips found Marinette's at once, as the two coiled around each other in a soothing afterglow, rolling from side to side, and only when the couple collided with Alya and Nino, the delicate atmosphere broke down, as the four fell into a fit of giggles, enjoying each other's nudity and the carnal mix of scents that surrounded the bed.

The boys gave their ladies quick pecks, before they went to visit the toilet, and as Marinette handled Alya a box of tissues to clean up after their virile boyfriends, their fingertips brushed, and for a moment, the two shared a knowing look. Marinette raised her eyebrows, and Alya, in turn lowered hers and shot her with a sly smirk.

When Adrien and Nino came back a minute later, at first, in their hazed, post-orgasmic state, they didn't notice anything different, until Alya pointed it out to them.

- Come on, boys, you know which side is yours.

And the fact that she said it from Adrien's bed fully uncovered her plan, especially when Marinette smiled at Nino and spread her legs, massaging her still twitching pussy in a deeply erotic, welcoming gesture.

Adrien and Nimo shared a quick look, and the girls didn't have to ask twice, before they slid into their arms and met their lips.

There was no need for setting rules, or boundaries, no exchanging of mutual permissions between the partners. The years of friendship have cemented the bonds between the four to the point where they didn't have to say anything to understand each other. And it was that instantaneous understanding that made their second round of love-making so passionate.  

For a moment, Alya wished she wasn't naked, just so she could experience Adrien's hands and fingers undoing her blouse, or, if he was a bit more desperate, tearing it apart. But on the other hand, it meant the he didn't have to worry about access to her breasts, though, as expected for a gentleman, he started by sucking the air out her lungs with a long, passionate kiss.

Next to them, Nino was experiencing a similar situation, as Marinette peppered his mouth and jawline with shorter kisses, while her hands impatiently travelled around his waist, eager to bring him over her. Unlike Alya, Marinette let Nino take the lead, and when Nino leaned over her, she surrendered herself to him. She let out a moan when she felt his fingers sliding back and forth alongside her pussy, and properly moaned when he utilised his palm and thumb to cover as much of her sex as possible. Like a record he was playing, Nino expertly toyed with her sex, to the point where she arched her back and reached for his neck, just so she could kiss him.

But their kiss was short-lived, as her legs were swiftly pressed against her body, exposing her sex that Nino was so meticulously caressing a while ago. A wide smile appeared on his face as he lined up his cock against her entrance and effortlessly slid inside, thanks to the combination of her own juices he's managed to produce and his friend's seed still present inside her. Marinette yelped when he hilted himself inside her, burying his cock deep inside her in a stark contrast to his sweet and tender caresses from earlier. Marinette closer her arms around his neck, bringing him just an inch closer to her, babbling with each push of his hips. Amongst the broken bits of his name, Nino could hear how Marinette was congratulating Alya for her boyfriend.

But her friend couldn't respond to her kind words, as her mouth was a bit preoccupied, being ruthlessly used by Adrien's cock. Glasses on her nose bounced each time Adrien buried himself inside her mouth, managing to slide a few millimetres further with each push. With his quickened rhythm, Alya had to control her breathing, smelling in his musky scent that slowly turned her mind blank, strengthened when he reached his hand behind and toyed with her pussy. Her eyes bulged out, and not just because he managed to hit her throat, but as his thumb slid across her clit, Adrien could clearly hear her moans, vibrating around his cock.

Feeling his position was slightly uncomfortable, Alya reached her own hand and took over him, allowing her aggressive lover to concentrate on fucking her face, and with her blessing, he did exactly that. It wasn't long until his hands were buried in her ruffled hair and his balls were slapping against Alya's chin, and a minute later for the first time her lips touched the base of his cock, signifying he has fit inside her mouth completely.

Adrien observed not just Alya, but also Marinette, both wearing the same, dreamy and blissful faces, though only Marinette could allow her tongue out in a shameless exhibition of being fucked silly by his best friend. Alya's moans continued, just as her fingers rubbed against her pussy faster and faster, and her breathless begging told Adrien exactly when to stop using her mouth. When she came, Alya let out a cry as her back arched and her legs thrashed against he bed, and at the same time, her face and glasses were covered with a fountain of cum that erupted from Adrien's cock. Some of the globs fell into her open mouth, just like he thought, and that quickly lead to Alya closing her lips around him, hoping to catch more of the salty baby batter.

The sight of her best friend slobbering over her boyfriend's cock was the final straw for Marinette. She cried Nino's name as her walls closed around his cock, begging him to milk him for his cum. And Nino gladly provided it a second later, collapsing on her, while his hips and leg moved on their own, trying to outdo his friend in terms of virility. The two heard Alya's loud gasp when she was sure Adrien's balls have been emptied, though it was Marinette, who dragged her finger across her friend's breasts with the last glob of it, which Alya quickly licked off.

The four young adults basked in the shared afterglow, their erratic breathing slowly becoming normal, until Marinette first managed to find strength to voice her thoughts.

- We should have done that sooner.

The four nodded, and the cabin was filled with sounds of giggles and kisses, as the best friends continued their carnal night. The cork of another bottle flew into the air as another bottle of wine was open, and the four started looking for new combinations they haven't found yet.  

[angelguk]

→ give and take - jeongguk scenario

Jeon Jeongguk - BTS

word count: 3.5k

genre: established relationship + smut + pwp

warnings: light bdsm / creampie / sensory deprivation (blind folds) / hands being tied / everyone is a switch here / sub!jeongguk + dom!jeongguk / handjob / blowjob / there’s begging / aka the one where jeongguk and oc play around with dom and sub dynamics

soundtrack: every kind of way, h.e.r.

@gukkheaven was once again a sweetheart and beta read this for me! thank you :)

He can’t see you, but he can feel you. Everywhere.

The ghost of your breath against his thigh has him twitching, hands blindly grasping for the bedpost behind him. He would be gripping the sheets beneath him but you’d taken one of your spare fabric cuts and bond his wrists together above his head. He would normally be complaining, particularly because he didn’t share your affinity for bondage, but when your warm wet tongue comes in contact with his skin, his tongue feels numb in his mouth. The guttural groan that falls from his parted lips isn’t because he’s running out of words to describe the way your tongue feels around him; which is strange because his vocabulary is quite apt when it comes to describing your blow job skills, in his humble opinion. He’s groaning because he can’t form words, not when your tongue is licking a thick strip along his dick.

It’s heady almost, the way his head spins when you wrap your lips around his tip and sink down with ease that should be alarming but isn’t. You’d figured out how to take down most of his thick length a while ago but for his benefit you’d gag around it, inflate his ego a little bit. You don’t need to. Jeongguk knows he’s big. Heck, half the campus knows he’s big. But hearing you choke around his length spurs a pit of desire deep inside guts that he can’t express with words. But he does with actions, his hips wildly canting up from the mussed bed sheets because he wants to be deeper, wants to hear you choke around his length if he can’t see you.

When you do groan, pulling away so your jaw can take a brief break, Jeongguk immediately regrets agreeing to the hand restricts. The urge to push your head back down surfaces with a rush of fervour. He’s yanking at the fabric, cursing mentally when they don’t give way. You and your stupid Girl Scout knots.

The sight brings a grin to your face as you rise from your bent position. His looks heavenly, face scrunched up and dark sweaty hair plastering to his forehead. It’s nearly covering the blindfold around his eyes. You naturally lean forward, trailing your fingertips against the hard muscles of his torso. His breath hitches at the touch and your smile broadens. You momentarily pause, taking in the way his rose lips are partially parted, quick breaths slipping from his throat in anticipation of your actions. When his tongue darts out across his bottom lip your hand moves to brush away the wisps of his mane.

“Are you going to stare all day or kiss me?” His voice is rough, a slight tremor colouring the tone of it because your hand is dipping downwards once again.

“Well aren’t you demanding,” You reply, grinning brightly. Your lips meet his the moment your hand wraps around his length.

He moans unabashedly, the sound vibrating down your own throat. You taste like him and all it does is make him harder, member throbbing painfully as your wrist twists around it expertly. You weren’t confident in giving hand jobs at the start of your relationship but Jeongguk had a slight kink for being teased relentlessly which led to exponential increase in the hand jobs you’d given over the last eleven months and consequently your confidence in giving said hand jobs.

But this situation felt different than the quick handjobs you’d given him before. Mainly because when Jeongguk had stumbled into your room an hour ago looking for a moment of stress relief from the piles of work he had, you hadn’t expected this to be the outcome. He’s tied to your bed, something you never expected to witness, a victim to your every whim. You’d been working on a project for your textile classes and naturally there was a lot of stray fabric in the room, somehow via a series of events that are blurry to you, they’d found themselves wrapped around his wrists and his eyes. The scene before you makes your panties stick to your core.

You’re not fully sure whether he’s enjoying it, but his face is twisted in a silent groan, hips bucking up into your hands and his mouth pliant below you, a wave of need coursing through him. You can tell he’s close.

When you tug at his lower lip Jeongguk shudders, cum leaking from his tip only to be swept up with the motions of your hand. It’s hard and fast and every time your hand comes down you tighten your grip around the tip and squeeze it. His brain genuinely feels like it’s going to explode when you do that. He still can’t communicate through words what you’re doing to him so he does it through the hard kisses you share. Your teeth bump into each other, a clumsy collusion in the desperate wet manner that your lips met and Jeongguk can’t help but now curse the blindfold obscuring his vision. Then he angles his head, hoping it’ll slow both the impending orgasm building in his gut and the heated kisses you’re sharing. It slows down one thing only, because when your lips slot together once more, it’s gentler. There’s an unspoken feeling of care with each kiss and Jeongguk’s mouth falls open when you take a pause from playing with his dick to squeeze at his balls. Your tongue slips in and he can’t help but groan once more, lost in the sensation when your fingertips find their way to his length again.

The whole thing has him partially zoning out, brain focusing solely on the pulses of pleasure ebbing from his gut across every nerve in his body. The loss of vision makes the whole thing seem more intense than it should be. Every brush of your skin on him has his brain short wiring. He wants to feel you, sink his hands into your soft skin and fuck you ruthlessly but you’ve got him pinned down and helpless. It should agitate him. Jeongguk’s never been the partner to lie down and take it. He preferred being in control, wanted to be above instead of below, but something about you made him want to give you everything you desired. If you wanted him tied up and merciless to your desires, he’d do it. If you wanted him to beg for it, he would. If you wanted to play with him for hours and make him cum until his brain turned to mush and he’s dick was chaffed, he’d (hesitantly) do it.

You just hadn’t figured that out yet.

When you’d discovered this subservient side of Jeongguk, you were immediately intrigued. Jeongguk was known on campus for being the domineering star baseball player who tempted girls and boys alike with his charming smile, standoffish front and supposedly big dick. You’d suspected his intentions when he’d first approached you but Jeongguk had quickly dismissed your intentional misconceptions of him. Beneath the carefully constructed visage he’d created you’d found a clumsy kind hearted boy, who sometimes loved too hard, ate too much junk and was surprisingly attentive.

You’ve still got your hand wrapped around his cock but you’re watching now, noticing the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he nears his high. His lips are wet and bruised, curses falling from his tongue in sharp pants. Every time you twist around his tip, his stomach caves in. You know he’s trying to prolong the rise, so that when it falls it hits him harder. You urge him on, hand picking up speed as you drop downward and drag your tongue around the red head of his cock.

“Fuck!” His hips are uncontrollable now, the tip of his cock hitting the velvet walls of your warm mouth with every harsh thrust upwards. Your hands find themselves around the parts of him you can’t swallow, moving in time with the bopping of your head. You can feel him twitching against the swirls of your tongue, the orgasm he was holding on the verge of breaking lose. You pull your mouth away when he’s about to let it go, a sudden thought popping in your head.

As much as you and your boyfriend danced around the whole dominant, submissive roles you had in the bedroom – you’d never really made him beg.

“What?! Fuck – I was close. Why did you stop?” He’s whining, cock twitching in need against the span of his stomach.

“Felt like it.”

“You – what. You felt like it? What? So you’re leaving me like this?” He’s irritated, evident by the way his dark eyebrows were furrowed together.

You hum in affirmation, ignoring the blazing heat between your thighs. Even if you’re trying to come off as nonchalant you really just was to sit on his dick. His hair is mussed up, pink lips in a confused pout and every muscle in his body is taut. He looks delectable like this, and you’re tempted to just sit on him now but the need to hear Jeongguk beg has you staying put. 

“Are you being serious?” There’s a quiet plea in his words. You nod, realizing  a second later he can’t see you.

“Very,” You try again, watching with amusement when the pout he’s sporting deepens.

“Like, are you being serious serious? Or are you just joking?” Jeongguk’s asking once more in hopes that you’ll change your answer because his dick is still very hard and if he doesn’t cum soon he’ll get blue balls and that would suck literal balls.

“Not joking. Let me untie you.”

“No – wait!” Suddenly having the restraints on is imperative to him. “Is there something I can do to change your mind? Tell me please? I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” He can hear the smile in your voice.

“Yes, anything. Say it now please. I’m going to die if I don’t cum.”

“Beg for me.”

Begging? That’s what you wanted? You could have asked him minutes ago. Jeongguk would have started begging without a second thought. Just like he does now.

“Fuck me, please,” He puts the whine on for emphasis but he’s not exaggerating it because he needs you to make him cum. He needs you to do something. Use your hand, your mouth, your cunt – anything. Because his balls are heavy and tight and the coil in his gut is starting to make him feel breathless. He’s all for edging but having you so close and not being able to touch or see you makes him feel desperate enough already, you don’t need to withhold his orgasm from him too. “Please I need you. Look at what you’re doing to me. Please – just – anything, do anything. Just touch me.”

You compile without thinking, moving swiftly to pull off the soaked panties clinging to your cunt. You expected him to scoff at the idea of begging, not give you what you want without hesitating. The Jeongguk you knew didn’t match up with the panting begging man tied to your bed. But for some reason, the fact that you hold this much power over the man that everyone desires makes your core throb with want. Maybe you should reward Jeongguk for behaving so well anyway. He’s been remarkably compliant with all your desires. So you clamber on top of his bare thighs, shifting to line him up with your dripping hole.

The first brush of his tip against your slick folds has him hissing. His eyebrows are raised and you know he didn’t expect that.

“W-what are you doing?” His voice trembles.

“You’ve been good. Good boys get rewarded.” You push the tip further, sighing at the small stretch you feel. And then as Jeongguk opens his mouth to speak, probably a snarky retort, you sink down on him hard.

“Oh – fuck!”

There’s a slight burn where you meet, but you’re not focused on that. Not when Jeongguk looks like his falling apart beneath you. His breath is haggarded and he’s biting down on his lip. His stomach is caved in, almost as if he’s forcing the orgasm he was begging you to make a reality away. You shift, his throbbing cock pressing further into your wetness and Jeongguk swears hard.

“Babe – oh fuck – stop, shit stop moving.” He shudders with every minute movement you make, stomach twitching beneath your palm. The stretch has your own eyes fluttering and you can help by roll into it, moaning every time he sinks a little deeper. You’d gotten used to Jeongguk’s length but for some reason every time you ride him, he always felt as if he was reaching parts of your cunt that you didn’t know were there. You can feel him tensing beneath you touch and you know this is just as intense for him as it is for you.

“Could you – could you take off the blind fold,” Jeongguk pleas.

“Why should I?”

“Fuck, babe. I want to see you. Want to see you bouncing on my cock. Want – oh shit!” 

You’d pulled yourself off him gently and sunk back down again hard. Your walls cling to him though, wet and warm, sucking him right back in. He chokes when you do that again, a heavenly sound that has your hips picking up the pace. There’s the lewd squelch filling the thick air with each bounce of your body. You’d know you were wet but even the slick coating both your thighs has you surprised. Jeongguk in particular.

 “Want to,” He’s struggling to even string together a sentence, the breath knocked out of him with every fall of your hips against his. “Fuck, holy shit! You’re so wet!”

“Is that what you wanted to say?” Your words sound slurred even to you. You’re losing yourself slowly, getting drunk on the way Jeongguk feels inside you.

“No – I – fuck. I want to see your pretty pussy milk me baby. I want to see you full of my cum. Take the blind fold off. I want to see you when you’re fucking me.”

You pause, aware of the way his cock jolts inside you when you do, and lean forward. Your hands make quick work of the blind fold knots, tugging at them with ease. When you pull the fabric away, your stomach lurches at the fire you find in his eyes.

His gaze rakes over you, eyes pausing at your lips and chest before they halt where the two of you meet. He watches as you lean back, sinking right back onto him when you move, thighs shimmering with slick. You rest your hands against the bedsheets, using the bed to help push yourself upwards, dragging his cock out of you as you rise before falling back down. His eyes are wide in awe and desire, watching how his cock disappears into your body. It feels beyond good, despite the strain building in your thighs and you close your eyes involuntarily, mind swimming in pleasure as your own high rises steadily.

Somewhere in the background you pick up the gentle patter of rain on the rooftop, the sound oddly in time with your own rhythm. Your movements don’t stop despite the way your thoughts stray, eyes fluttering open when you feel Jeongguk grinding back into your bounces. He’s staring at you as if you’re the sun keeping his universe in orbit. The sight has your walls tightening around him, coaxing another curse from his bruised wet lips. When you make a move to touch your own clit, feeling both your highs impending, Jeongguk thrusts upward. Hard.

You’re left disoriented, chest bouncing harder now because Jeongguk is taking control even when he’s below you. Your hips stutter as you try to find the rhythm you’d established but Jeongguk isn’t having it, hips snapping against your own with urgency.

“Untie me.” It’s a command not a request and you feel the need to comply, suddenly aware that Jeongguk is done being submissive for the night. The look in his eyes confirms that so you shut down the side of you that wants to pin him down once more and instead move to skilfully untangle the knots that kept his arms immobile. When they come loose, Jeongguk’s hands move so fast they’re a blur in your hazy gaze. They come down on your hips, grip taut to keep you place as he thrusts upwards, fucking into you so hard that you almost bit your tongue.

“Jeongguk!” You squeak, clenching down helplessly around him. His fingertips are digging in your skin and you know you’ll find marks tomorrow but that’s not bothering you at all. Not when Jeongguk is fucking you like this.

If you thought you were being vocal before, that doesn’t hold a candle to the little sounds Jeongguk has falling from your lips. Your whining and groaning at the same time, letting out a helpless moan when Jeongguk shifts himself upright so that he latches his mouth on your neck. The scrap of his teeth and drag of his tongue against your skin has you seeing stars and your nerves feel electric, pleasure washing over you ruthlessly. You move to snake a hand to your clit, but Jeongguk halts you again.

Your back hits the mattress hard but Jeongguk doesn’t give you time to recover. He’s spreading your legs apart, making space for himself as he caves you in. There’s a sheen of sweat covering both your bodies and the air feels thick with need. Jeongguk’s staring at you in a way that makes your stomach twist with want. Your thighs feel sticky but you forget about it the moment the head of his cock presses against your wet hole. He toys with your entrance, keeping one hand on your twitching hips and another guiding his cock further into you. There’s barely any resistance, both you sighing at the way you suck him in.

Jeongguk’s palms find themselves gripping the back of your thighs, gently lifting your hips upward. His long hair is brushing against your forehead and your hands instinctively rise, sweeping the strands back and softly scraping your nails against his scalp. He groans against your skin, hips canting into your own and the sound of your slick filling the air.

His hips pick up speed and Jeongguk’s pounding you into the mattress within moments. You can’t do anything but take it, his grip on your hips controlling the pace. And he’s not being kind – it’s a punishing pace, retribution for how you acted earlier. When his hand finally slips between your panting bodies to circle your clit, you jolt. The sparks return viciously, the blinding heat in your core setting you on fire instantly. The pads of his slick coated fingers toy with you, trailing patterns against the bud and coupled with the way he’s fucking you, your vision turns white. You’re not even fully aware that you’re apart until Jeongguk’s hips slam forward, hitting a part of you that has your bones melting.

There’s fireworks behind your closed eyelids and your cunt snug around him. It feels like you’re shattering into pieces and being moulded back together all at once, the sparks in your core travelling along your nerves. You barely regain your breath when Jeongguk’s hips begin to falter, slamming into you with a desperation you feel too. You’re clinging onto him, watching through lidded eyes as his mouth drops slightly, a haggard pant floating from his mouth as his hips jut against you, warm cum filling you up.

“Oh,” His mouth is pressed against your sweaty skin again, chest shuddering above you own.

“Oh,” You repeat, gently shoving his burly body off you. You’re still feeling warm, skin buzzing. “What’s that meant to mean?”

He’s moving to wrap you in his arms, a soft grin on his face. “Just oh.”

“Oh as in you liked what just happened or oh as in you never want to do that again?” Even if you feel hazy, your thighs are still gross and the shower seems like a more welcoming prospect than the nap Jeongguk was offering.

“Oh as in you’re talking too much. I came really hard and I want to sleep now.” His eyes are falling closed as he nuzzles into you.

“But did you like it?”

He doesn’t open his eyes.

“Jeongguk!”

“The blind fold I can get behind but don’t tie my hands again please. It sucked when I wanted to touch you but couldn’t.”

“That’s part of the appeal.”

“I don’t care, I didn’t like it.”

“Fair enough. I’ll let you blind fold me next time if you want.” He grunts at that but doesn’t move away from you. “Let me go though, I feel gross.”

He reluctantly detaches himself, searching for the sheets you’d messed up with a slight frown marring his features. You watched, amused, as he huddled himself beneath the covers, the soft image reminding you of the gentle demeanour Jeongguk possessed. The reminder tugged at your heart and you found yourself pattering back towards the bed, sinking into the sheets and pressing your lips softly against his forehead. He’s smiling in his sleep when you lean back.

“You look cute when you beg,” Your comment has him wide awake, a murderous look in his eyes.

“Go shower, you stink.”

[mrsbenedictbridgerton]

How not to fall for Killian Jones (and other failed endeavours)

SURPRISE! Hey @xerxesrises, tis I, your very tardy GFSS! This is one of those situations where what I set out to write bears little to no resemblance to what ended up on the page or what I had planned to write initially. Regardless, I hope you like it.

A huge thank you to my wonderful beta, nickillian/Ztofan, for all her tireless efforts to make my writing not suck!

Also on FF.NET and AO3

She wasn’t really good at any kind of resolutions - New Year’s or otherwise. Maybe that was why it was so easy to break them.

7:52 pm  Failure one: Not thinking of or fully considering the consequences

Bored and listless, Emma Swan drummed her nails on the surface of her standard issue corporate desk. Around her, the office was silent, its beige walls absent of the echoed sound of her workmates chatter. This was unsurprising, considering it was New Year’s Eve and almost 8pm but still disconcerting when used to the hubbub of the dozens or so coworkers who shared the twelfth floor. She stared at the phone for the hundredth time, willing it to ring and give her something to do, yet it remained stubbornly quiet.

Letting out a frustrated huff, she picked up her lukewarm coffee and knocked back an unpleasant gulp while she reminded herself that she had volunteered to work that night (and that it was triple pay that she badly needed).

It had seemed a great idea at the time; now, not so much.

She slipped her hand into the pocket of the red leather jacket that hung over her chair and pulled out a small, black leather notebook. It had been a gift from her closest friend and one time roommate - Mary Margaret - one that had started out as a trendy ‘bullet journal’ when Emma had complained one too many times about not being focused enough in her life. Her friend had sworn that this would change everything. Well, it hadn’t taken long for daily lists with twee little codes and pretty pens to be replaced with grocery lists scrawled in sharpie and the once pristine pages to be stuffed with receipts and business cards.

Emma flicked to the back and grabbed one of the number 2 pencils that sat in a pot on her desk. She scrawled at the top of the page: Emma Swan, 2016. And beneath began a start assessment of her life.

31 years old

Proud renter of a one bedroom apartment with a kickass view of Boston Harbor

Owner of a car older than she is

Single

Hopelessly addicted to hot cocoa (with cinn

Stuck in a goddamn rut.

 She underlined the last one three times. Tapping the eraser of the pencil against the page, she paused.

Mary Margaret had once told her that her problem was that she spent so long pondering what direction to take her life yet so little time putting anything into action (hence the damn journal). At the time she had brushed off the comment, but now, begrudgingly, she had to admit her friend was right. While Mary Margaret was always working on improving herself (and had even found just about the best still-single man in the city), Emma was still exactly where she had been for the past few years. That’s not to say that Emma was unhappy… just a little lost. Or maybe unfulfilled. And certainly lacking in direction.

Like her current place of work, for example. It was yet another one of those situations where her laissez faire attitude had led her down a path that she had not intended. See, this job was supposed to be temporary - a short work contract, earning her enough to pay some of her overdue rent and get her landlord off her back. An old friend, Ruby, had hooked her up after they’d met up for some drinks and Emma had bemoaned her financial situation. A few weeks working for Mills Security Systems seemed an easy enough way to supplement her bail bonds income (which had taken a nose dive that Spring) and when her friend had told her it was 20 dollars an hour for simply monitoring some alarm systems and taking a few calls, she’d been sold.

Yet now the year was drawing to a close but her ‘temporary’ contract was still going. She had just about paid back her rent when her car had decided to break down, maxing out her credit card and thus extending her supplemental job. She’d even became eligible for basic health care now she’d been there for so long…

Okay, so there were a few positives. She had her own desk - which was a step up from working out of the driver’s seat of her VW Bug. It even had three, half-sized walls around it which gave a modicum of privacy when she was sending WhatsApp messages during working hours. She did like the paycheck. It came in a crisp white envelope, once a week delivered to her little cubicle (the one labeled E. Swam in some clerical error. She’d changed the M to and N with a Sharpie). She liked the regular (ish) hours and the climate controlled environment that meant less time spent freezing in her car or apartment (heating wasn’t cheap during the cold-ass east coast winter). She even liked most of her coworkers. So far, so good?

Well, there was one particular fly in the ointment that made her resolve to quit the job as soon as possible even stronger: Killian Jones, the head of finance who she’d met that first week, and then tried to avoid ever since.

Okay, okay, let’s back up a little.

It had been her third day. She’d already jammed the copier and gotten scolded for taking someone else’s coffee cup from the break room (seriously, it was plain white and looked exactly like all the others). She’d been told to attend a team strategy meeting one floor up on 12 and arrived with her (non-stolen) coffee cup and a minute to spare meaning the only seat in the tiny room had been next to… him. Him being the most attractive man she had seen in a long, long time. Her quick assessment of him as she looked for a seat noted his glossy dark hair and piercing blue eyes and the nonchalant way he crossed his legs at the ankles as they sprawled out in front of him. It wasn’t like she was exactly an innocent gal, but the way he had looked her up and down as she approached the chair beside him had her stomach doing flips and an uncomfortable heat growing between her thighs.

Goddamn it.

(It had been way too long.)

Then as she’d sat, he’d turned and looked her in the eyes, taking her hand and shaking it firmly. He’d introduced himself and then asked her name, repeating it in his silky English accent. It had cut through her like a hot knife through butter and she’d known straight away that he was trouble.

Hey, if things had been different, if she’d met him at a club after a few drinks, she’d have made it quite clear that she thought he was highly fuckable and then added him to her ‘one and done’ list. But even Emma Swan, not exactly employee of the year, knew that one night stands with work colleagues were a recipe for disaster.  

Problem was, he was gorgeous. He was that easy kind of handsome. The kind that took your breath away but at the same time just suited him so well that you couldn’t help but stare, even as your cheeks flushed and your mind turned to goo. And then there was just something about the way he held himself, his manner and posture, that made her want to fucking swoon.

So like a rabbit startled by headlights, she’d decided then and there to not put herself in any situation where she’d be tempted to exercise poor judgment–no matter how freaking hot he was. When the meeting was over she’d scuttled back to the 11th floor as he was distracted by a coworker, yet not without the nagging feeling he was watching her as she left.

Of course, despite her efforts, that wasn’t the only time they had interacted.

A few weeks later, for Ruby’s birthday, a bunch of people had headed to a bar downtown after work to toast in her new age with pineapple margaritas. She didn’t think Killian Jones was exactly a friend of Ruby’s (though she’d mentioned offhand just how ‘hot’ he was in his ‘tight, ass-hugging pants’) so Emma hadn’t hesitated to tag along. But, unexpectedly, he had turned up, looking perfect in a pale grey suit and sky blue shirt, his tie removed and his hair ruffled oh-so-perfectly.

Emma had almost panicked. Which she knew was ridiculous… He was just a guy! She’d met thousands! But whenever she glanced in his direction (and she couldn’t resist), it seemed like he was wearing the most intense, curious look that had made her feel completely naked and exposed. It had ended up with her feeling hot under the collar and thoroughly frustrated. So she took the only action she could in such a situation. Putting on her best stony-faced look, she’d done her utmost to stay as far away from him as possible, practically gluing herself to the birthday girl’s side. Strategically, she had positioned herself as much out of his line of sight as she could, purposely avoiding his gaze. (And maybe, once or twice, when she had allowed herself to look again at him… maybe she saw an expression on his face that looked like disappointment.)

After that close call, they’d found themselves frequenting the coffee cart in the lobby together a few times. Waiting in line, she’d pretended not to see him, instead attempting to focus her attention on her phone. He hadn’t tried to speak to her those times. Clearly, her cool demeanor was working. See, the one thing Emma possessed in bucket loads, was self-restraint.

And I suppose the question that needs to be answers is why was she so adamantly avoiding this man? Simple. She just didn’t do relationships. After a couple that crashed and burned quite spectacularly, she’d came to the very adult conclusion that she was just not designed to be part of a pair.

Emma Swan did just fine on her own, thank you very much

Huffing softly, she opened a drawer and tossed the damn notebook away and out of her view.

 ***

8:31 pm

Time continued to drag painfully slowly.

Tink, the girl who usually worked the evening shift, was visiting family for the holidays and the rest of the team had split her tasks between them. Emma’s sole role tonight was to answer any customer service calls (thanks to Mills Security’s promise of ‘365 days service’) and log the details so the client could be contacted during normal office hours. She had zero idea why they just didn’t use a phone service.

She was staring at drunken photos on Facebook of friends celebrating at the parties that she could have been at when she heard a noise at the other end of the floor. She knew it was only her and a security guard working that night, so she immediately grabbed the pepper spray she kept in her purse and peered over the top of her partition. Then the sound of a bang behind her practically made her jump out of her skin and she spun around.

What the fuck.

It was Killian Jones, bending down to pick up what looked like a bottle of champagne that was rolling along the floor, his perfect arse exactly in her line of sight as it strained against his oh-so-tight dark jeans.

(She flushed as she imagined his ass sans those jeans.)

“Shit,” she cried as her heart raced and she tried futilely to look away, “You scared me!”

“Sorry,” he replied, sheepishly dropping his chin as he stood up. “Didn’t realize anyone was up here.”

With desperately feigned aloofness, she folded her arms. She could be cool. She was alone with the a guy she’d had some pretty R rated dreams about in a deserted office building. No biggie.

(Yeah, there had been dreams to… It had been a very, very long time and he was very, very attractive.)

“Well, I am. What are you doing here?”

He smiled. (Damn he had an amazing smile.) “Ah, I left earlier and realized I’d forgotten to file a report.”

She eyed the bottle in his hands. “And you thought you’d celebrate that fact?”  

“Oh, I need to keep this chilled. I was just up here to use your refrigerator - the one on 11 doesn’t seem to be working.”

“Right,” she nodded, relaxing just a little as the initial shock of his appearance faded. These were the most words she had ever shared with the guy. She vaguely wondered if he even remembered her name.

(Because she knew his: and that he had one brother and that he had moved from England five years earlier and that he owned a sailboat - yeah, her colleagues liked to talk and she was an apt pupil when it came to Killian Jones 101.)

“So you heading to a party?” she asked, feeling a strange mixture of jealousy and yearning as he nodded.

“That’s the plan,” he smiled, “My brother said I need to stop being a miserable sod and enjoy myself for the holidays.”

“Your brother sounds like my old roommate. She’s still offended I volunteered to work tonight rather than attend her potluck dinner.”

He smiled again, much broader, exposing his pearly white teeth and she was struck by the fact that when he did so, he looked even more handsome. Her heart did a little jump and she suddenly felt, well, a little shy.

“Well, I’d better-” she hitched her thumb towards her silent phone.

He nodded. “Happy New Year, Emma.”

“Happy New Year,” she echoed.

(She really did like the way he said her name.)

***

9:37 pm Failure two: Keeping promises to herself  

Twenty two minutes spent playing Candy Crush.

Thirty five on Facebook.

Eleven spent composing the perfect inspirational New Year post.

And not a single goddamn phone call.

The dollar signs that had convinced her to volunteer were slowly morphing into visions of the glasses of champagne she was missing by not attending Mary Margaret’s potluck. She pulled out the notebook and  flicked back to the list she had made earlier. Her life laid out in the stark grey lines of the pencil was particularly sobering. Sure, she was doing… fine. Better than many. Yet something was missing, she just wasn’t sure what.

Maybe Mary Margaret was right - maybe she did need to really make some changes this year. She’d never been one for New Year’s resolutions, but what could it really hurt to do something different? Because doing the same old things year after year wasn’t really getting her anywhere. Hadn’t she wanted to travel and see the world? To be brave and take some chances? (Secretly, she’d dreamed of opening her own bonds bureau for over a year.)  If nothing else she knew that she did not want to spend her next New Year’s Eve surrounded by grey partition walls and lingering regrets.

The sound of Killian Jones clearing his throat startled her and she jumped in time to see him standing now six feet away, the bottle of champagne he had earlier back in his hands and covered in beads of condensation.

“Shit,” she cried, placing her hand on her racing chest, “You need to stop doing that.”

“Apologies, love,” he said advancing a step closer to her desk.

“S’fine,” she replied, waving away his apology with her hand. She looked at the bottle of champagne with more than a little envy. “So you done?”

“Aye,” he nodded, his hair bouncing over his forehead.

“Then off to this party of yours..?”

He gave her an awkward smile and then tilted his head to one side. He opened his mouth to speak and then paused before dampening his lips and repeating the process. ��Look, this may sound a bit mad, but what are you doing tonight?”

“Umm…” She gave him a curious look and then gestured towards her phone. “I’m the customer support til the automated system kicks in at one a.m. and everything is forwarded to India.”

“Oh, yeah,” he grinned rubbing his hand across his face. “Of course you are. Mills Security’s famous promise of US-based call centers.”

A peculiar light feeling bubbled in her chest as Killian Jones - object of her lust and fascination for months now - danced awkwardly from foot to foot-

“You see, the thing is, my brother-”

“The one who said you’re a miserable sod?”

“Aye, that’s the one.” He gave her a quick, searing glance and she felt a shiver ripple down her spine. “Well, he always says I’m too uptight. That I need to be more spontaneous.”

“Okay…” she said, wondering where he was going with this.

“So, Emma Swan, who has been avoiding me since I clapped eyes on her gorgeous self five months ago, how do you feel about joining me?”

Stunned, Emma felt like she’d been slapped in the face. But in a good way. “Huh?”

“The party. I believe it’s custom to bring a date?”

Her mouth gaped open.

What was her life right now? Was she not just minutes earlier contemplating doing something different and out of her comfort zone? It was like he was freaking psychic.

Immediately, her usual defenses flung right up, spewing out reasons why this was a very, very bad idea.

“But the calls-”

“You can forward them to your cell phone.”

“If they find out-”

“They won’t.”

“I won’t know anyone there…”

“You’ll know me… And, Emma Swan,” she blushed as he said her full name for the second time in the span of a minute, “I would really, really like to get to know you better.”

Oh shit.

Now this was unexpected and quite frankly, scary territory. She had sworn to stay away from him, but now that seemed like such a ridiculous thing to do as she stared into his beautiful blue eyes.

She looked down at her sweater and jeans combo.

“I’m not exactly dressed for a party.”

“You look great to me.”

She was running out of excuses. And actually wanting to make excuses.

A thought suddenly occurred.

“Just gimme a minute.”

***

Ruby Lucas, whilst a great girlfriend, was foremost known among her circle of friends for her active social life and exacting preparations. As such, she kept a selection of outfits in the breakout room lockers just in case of any last minute post-work drinks or dinner invitations that just could not be attended in her usual office attire.

Most of them were short, but since Ruby was a couple of inches taller than Emma, she was able to find a black wiggle dress which fit just about right, landing an inch above her knee, with cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. It was sexy, but not too sexy. (Since she didn’t know what this was - was it a date? She wasn’t an expert in last minute New Year’s plans when she was really supposed to be working.)

She dug out a pair of black pumps with a medium sized heel that were only a little too big and checked her reflection. She was pretty sure Ruby would not mind when she found out. She was actually pretty sure Ruby would quite the opposite of mind. Next, she grabbed the emergency makeup bag that also lived in the locker and added some layers of blush and mascara before finishing the look with a red Dior lipstick that even she had to admit was very flattering. A spritz of perfume before she ran a brush through her (thankfully, freshly washed) hair and she was ready. And her heart was racing.

Nervously, she stepped back into the office. A cool shiver trickled over her skin. What was she doing? She was about to turn back, when-

“Well now, I have to admit, that’s much better.”

She hadn’t thought it was possible to blush any deeper because of this man and she had been wrong. He gave her a slow, appreciative look, one that was hot and spine tingling yet not disrespectful. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Oh, this old thing,” she teased.

He held out his hand, “Shall we? I have a car waiting.”

“A car?” she asked.

He shrugged, “I’m CFO, have to take advantage of the perks at some point.”

“What the hell,” she shrugged in reply, placing her hand in his and letting him lead her to the elevator.

***

10:52 pm Failure three: A total misunderstanding of what she had gotten herself into

‘Party’ was perhaps a bit of an understatement.  The event was being held at one of those trendy little bars in Union Square with oversized art on the walls that contrasted with simple, neutral furniture and neon accessories. It was being hosted by a client of Mills Security, as it turned out, Killian had explained on the journey there that he’d been given the company invite.

It had been so hard concentrating on what he had been saying in the back of the sleek black sedan that had been waiting for them. Even though the back seat was pretty roomy by her VW bug size standards, they still seemed to be achingly close together as the car pulled away.

Then it hit her just how crazy this was! Five months of avoiding this man, only for her resolve to crumble in seconds. But she couldn’t find herself regretting her snap decision. He smelled damn good next to her. She peeked over at him, noticing how he’d left the top few buttons of his navy shirt open, showing a hint of chest hair. Her eyes lingered there. Biting her lip softly, she wondered just what that would feel like under her palms.

Down girl, she warned herself, puffing a breath of air over her face and trying to shift her focus onto anything other than him.

Upon arrival, Kilian had gifted the bottle of champagne upon the host (One August W. Booth, local furniture magnate and pretty skeezy in Emma’s opinion) before scooping up their own champagne flutes and observing the scene of the party in full swing.

“So,” she sighed, feeling a little awkward as she ran her free hand over the satin of her skirt and tried to think of something smart or witty to say.

“Maybe we should… mingle?” he suggested. She sighed in relief; she wasn’t quite ready to engage in solo conversation.

“I’d like that,” she smiled, taking his offered arm as they wandered into the crowd.

Up to this point, her attraction to him had been almost purely physical. But as they spent the next hour moving around the different guests and drinking just enough champagne to take the edge off her nerves, she started to see that he was really a great guy. Being one of those business-like occasions where most people don’t know each other that well, he was fantastic at putting others at ease and introducing himself (and slipping some of them a business card or two). He had the perfect combination of wit and charm that seemed to win over every woman - and man - in the room. And if she was a little proud of the envious looks some of them gave her, that was merely a bonus.

Finally, her feet began to ache and the two sought out a small table in the corner of the room.

“Wow, you really know how to work a room!”

He beamed before ducking his head a little at the compliment. “I’m generally better with people I don’t know.”

“Oh?” “I’m not the easiest man to get to know.”

Emma shrugged and took another sip from a fresh glass of champagne. “Well, it’s not like I’ve exactly tried to…”

“I noticed.”

“You did?”

“I tried to overlook the hiding from me at Ruby’s birthday bash, but by the third time you ignored me at the coffee cart, I was beginning to take the hint.” He pouted a little, his full pink lips looking so inviting that she could help but stare for a few seconds.  “Truth is, I’ve wanted to ask you out for ages.”

“You have?”

“Emma, I’ve been quite taken by you for months now.”

How was this happening? Her breathing began to quicken.

“But you were giving me very clear signals that you weren’t interested.”

“I don’t…” she began, ready to spout out her usual ‘don’t do relationships’ spiel, when she realized just how lame it sounded. “Yeah, I guess I did. But what about this-” she gestured to the party in full swing around them.

He smiled a little coyly before his gaze dropped to studying the glass in his hands. “Before I came into the office, I’d been on a call with my brother - he lives in England and you know, time differences made it past New Year there. He was quite merry and told me that it was about bloody time that I got over myself and started living a little.”

“He sounds more and more like my friend.”

Gently, he placed the glass on the small table in front of them. Looking up, his eyes flitted over her face. “Maybe we have something in common, then; people in our lives who care more than we think we deserve. I’ve spent years living in the past, Emma, using shit I couldn’t control as an excuse to not try to change. But then I spoke to Liam and then you were there and - do you believe in fate?” she shrugged, “Well I’m not sure I do either, but I figured if ever some higher power was telling me I needed to make a change, it was tonight when I saw you in the office.” Her breath caught in her throat as she absorbed his words. “And the change?”

“It was taking a chance and putting myself out there,” He edged a little closer on the loveseat upon which they sat, until their knees jostled together, “Honestly, I was fully prepared for rejection and having to begin to avoid you.”

Lashes fluttering like some paperback heroine, Emma let herself reply with a bright smile. “I’m glad you did.”

“So am I,” he whispered.

They tipped their glasses together, exchanging daring glances as they drank. The bubbles danced over her tongue the way only a really expensive champagne can. Slowly, the music around them changed from lively into something with a more mellow beat.

“Care to dance?” he asked.

“You can dance?”

“I have many talents.”

A peal of light laughter fell from her lips as she took his hand and let him lead her to where a few other couples were swaying together. He placed her arms around his neck and his own hands about her hips. The heat, the champagne and this intoxication of him made the room swirl pleasantly, tempting her to place her head on his chest, while a part of her deep inside hummed ‘this feels right’.

***

11:59 pm Failure four: Making sensible and rational decisions

The music became quieter as the minutes ticked towards midnight. The pair paused in their dance and Emma let her fingers brush against the tendrils of hair that spilled over his collar. He looked at her, his focus dancing between her eyes and lips until she thought she might burst with the tension.

“Hey, remember what you said about being spontaneous?”

“Yes,” he whispered, just as the countdown began.

This time it was her turn to focus on his lips. She knew that kissing him could be a beginning of something. It had been so long since she had felt that way about a man and that scared her. But not enough to stop.

Her fingers slipped from his hair to slide under the lapel of his thin wool jacket, hands drawing down over his shoulders and balling in the material, as she reached up on her toes. A second passed by, where their eyes met and both smiled, then there was a little jump in her stomach as she leant into him and pressed her mouth to his. Instantly, she was consumed by emotion: happiness, desire, fear- Until the simple physical motion of lips upon lips engulfed her completely, drowning out the countdown echoing around them. Her whole body tingled as he wrapped his arms around her pulled her body flush.

They fell apart to rousing shouts of ‘Happy New Year’, her fingers still tangled in his jacket, breathless and exhilarated.

“Wow,” she sighed, her senses slowly returning.

“Yeah,” he agreed. His cheeks were a captivating pink. Without thinking, she reached up her hand to brush against them.

“So, do you have any resolutions?” she whispered.

“Well, I definitely want to do that again.”

“Oh do you?” she teased.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice serious; the air around them suddenly thick-

And then it was as if the rest of the room faded away. He took hold of her hand, edging it back around his neck before crushing his mouth against hers once more.

Emma Swan was pretty sure she was drowning. Her whole body throbbed with need as she chased each motion of his lips. As first (or technically second-) kisses go, it was up there with the best; the explosive chemistry between them so palpable that the idea of not taking this further made her gut ache.

Resting her hands on his shoulders, she paused the kiss, whispering, “Follow me,” not waiting for a response before she took hold of his hand from her waist and pulled him with her towards the service area behind the bar which currently stood deserted.

“Kiss me,” she demanded, letting him push her against the wall, his hips anchoring her own in place so that she could feel his erection pressing heavily against her and making her wish that she was wearing a more forgiving skirt that would have allowed her to wrap her legs around him and seek out the friction she so wanted.

His needy lips did as she desired, desperately claiming her again: a little recklessly, certainly without restraint, almost bruising in their determination. One hand gripped her waist while the other snuck under the hem of her skirt, teasing her thigh while his lips found her neck. She let her hands thread through his hair, not caring if she mussed it up, just wanting this feeling to not end; wanting to be as close as she could to him and whatever magic spell he had placed over her.

Finally, he tipped back his head and took a few deep breaths.

“Emma, this wasn’t what I intended-” “You want to stop?” she asked, feeling slightly mortified at the idea she had entirely misread the situation.

“God, no-” he cupped her face with his hands, “I just don’t want you to think that this was my aim when I asked you to come here.”

She saw honesty in his eyes - she’d always been great at telling when someone was lying. Mary Margaret  called it her superpower. He was telling the truth.

“I don’t think that,” she smiled, “If I’m honest I don’t even know what’s happening right now,” she swallowed hard and then added, “But I do know I don’t want it to stop.”

A flash of understanding crossed his face and he tipped his face closer, “Well, maybe we need to take this elsewhere…” he let the words linger a moment between them.

“Is that car still available?”

He nodded and she became captivated for a moment by his unfairly thick lashes that curved back and further enhanced the mesmerising blue hue of his eyes.

“Then let’s go.”

***

The car ride was almost unbearable. There were too many thoughts in her mind to cope with being so close to him and not having him there and then. What was going on? What was she doing? What was he thinking?

And she was taking him back to her place.

Emma Swan did not bring men back to her own apartment - it was too intimate, it suggested she wanted more. But the invitation had fallen from her lips without hesitation and she’d given her address to the driver before she could overthink it.

Their hands rested next to each other, spanning the small gap between them. Emma counted the beats of her heart as the street lights zipped by. Then his fingers inched closer, slowly overlapping hers until he had taken hold of her hand. She looked at him, half hidden in the shadow of the dark interior, flashes of light flickering over his face.

God, she wanted to kiss him again. Waiting was such sweet torture - but she knew should she touch him like that now they would be consummating their new found chemistry on that very seat. So instead, she focused on the feel of his hands on her and let her eyes roam over his figure as he did the same. She could feel him study her decolletage and the exposed curve of her breasts thanks to Ruby’s predilection for low cut necklines.

Pulling up to the curb, she’d never been so thankful to get out of a moving vehicle, the pair tossing the driver a breezy ‘Happy New Year’ after Killian signed the chit.

Inside her apartment, she found herself once again pressed against the nearest wall, but this time with a lot less self restraint from both parties. His hungry lips tasted every exposed inch of skin as she clawed her fingers through his hair before yanking his shirt from his pants and sliding her palms up his back. He urged her hips apart and she felt the slit at the back of the skirt rip as she hiked her legs around him.

“Bed,” she demanded, tipping her head in the direction of her bedroom as they kissed their way across the living room.

After kicking open the door, Killian placed her back on the ground long enough for him to toss away his jacket and for them both to kick off their shoes. Then they were back, fused together, falling onto the bed as they pulled and tugged at each other’s clothes in a desperate search for the feel of bare skin.

The dress already ruined, she begged him, “Just tear it.”

With a guttural groan, he complied, foregoing the zip and yanking at the material until it gave way to the satisfying sound of threads splitting, leaving her in her simple underwear, as she concentrated on removing his shirt and fanning out her hands over his chest. His perfect chest, peppered with swathes of hair and just toned enough to say ‘hot’ rather than ‘gym obsessive’.

“You’re stunning,” he panted.

She palmed his hardness through his pants, earning another growl as her thighs clenched in anticipation of his generous size. “You’re not too shabby yourself.”

He yanked down the cups of her bra as she started to work on divesting him of his remaining clothes, suckling on a nipple as his hand worked the other into a firm peak, the sensation going right to her core where her body was practically begging her to take him inside.

“Shit,” she moaned as he took a second to help her with her task, before he was left gloriously nude and exposed before her - looking better than she could have imagined - so masculine and wanton with his erection jutting out proudly, demanding to be given attention. Bending forward, she reached out her tongue and ran it over his silky length, it jerked at the sensation, but before she could touch him he took hold of her wrist-

“You first,” he insisted and before she could protest he tugged down her panties, his lips once agains exploring her breasts as his fingers parted her folds and gathered the dampness that had already formed there. “Fuck Emma you’re so wet already. Such a delicious cunt.”

The unexpected language was surprisingly a huge turn on and she pulled his lips to her mouth-

“Waiting for you to fill me up, Jones.”

His fingers danced over her clit as he paused, inches from her mouth-

“So I’m Jones now, am I? Well I guess that makes you Swan.” Without ceremony, he pushed one thick finger into her quickly followed by another, her back arched from the bed until his lips muffled her moans. Inside her,  his digits found places that had her letting out breathy little moans.

“You like that, Swan?” he asked, his eyes scanning her expression as her knees flexed and she pushed her heels into the mattress, trying to ground herself from the sensation of flying into the air.

“Yes,” she cried, her hands seeking something to also anchor themselves to him, finding his ass to be just as firm and round as it had appeared in his pants. She was now so slick that his hand was gliding silkily between her legs, harder and faster- until he fell back on his haunches, giving her a searing look, before his mouth joined his hands on the assault of her sex. His tongue flicked out to swirl around her clit and over her folds until she could no longer discern his movements in the high of sensation he was creating. Her body was folding in upon itself, the muscles of her gut and core tightening and twisting as they bended to his will, his free hand massaging her breasts and then she was spiraling out of existence into the heavenly bliss of release as the tension snapped and rippled from her in waves.

“You’re glorious,” he panted, suffocating her in an all-consuming kiss that tasted of her, pulling her back to reality and fueling her desire once again.

Reaching for his cock, she ran her hand over him, imagining how he would feel inside her while he rutted into her palm. She pressed her hand against his shoulder, trying to lay him on his back so she could return the favor.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, once again worried she was misreading the whole situation.

“Nothing, love,” he replied, still pistoning his hips as he laid a kiss to her forehead, “It’s just, if I can’t be inside you right now, I think I’m going to explode.”

Oh, she wasn’t going to argue with him-

“Top drawer of the nightstand,” she whispered, sitting up to watch him as he found a condom, palming her breasts as her whole body ached in expectation. It had been so long since she had gotten to this place with a guy, and even longer with someone who she could potentially care about-

It was right then, as he turned back to her, his face deliciously wrecked, that she recognized that was just it- there was something about him, something as still intangible in addition to his more obvious assets, an attraction brewing that was more than just superficial.

She liked Killian Jones. Really. Truly.

Stunned, she let craving for him roll over her again as he crawled back across the bed to her, caging her body in with his, a look of pure want on his face.

“Swan,” he whispered, with a crooked smile.

“Jones,” she replied, widening her legs to accommodate him, wrapping her legs around his waist until she could feel the weight of him pressing against her entrance.

He sank into her heat, every solid inch more perfect than the last, pausing once he had bottomed out until she pressed her heels into his ass, urging him into a sensual rhythm.

His soft grunts and moans had her hot and bothered, writhing against him, seeking out further friction as he alternated between hard, quick thrusts and softer, rocking motions. Normally, Emma would be vocal with what she wanted in bed, but he just seemed to know instinctively how to make her body hum. She gave as good as she got, encouraging him with muttered ‘yeses’ and ‘harders’, getting lost in the moment - not trying to draw it out. Because she knew this could never be a one time thing. Instead, she chased her peak, wanting him to join her, grinding against him, foregoing technique for desperate motions that had one single purpose-

It worked. In a frenzy of movement, she found herself falling once more, this time her body was gripping his, dragging him with her into dizzying, euphoric release.

To the heavy beat of heaving hearts, he collapsed beside her.

Minutes later, his fingers tangled in her hair as she lay against his chest, truth be told she was a little too warm, but had no desire to move as she soaked in the post-coital bliss. His other arm wrapped around her shoulders and he ran his hand over the naked skin within his reach.

“Can I ask you a question?” she whispered.

“Of course,” he said, punctuating his reply with a kiss to her forehead. “Anything.”

“Why me? I mean, you could have your pick of anyone, Jones.”

“You’re beautiful,” he answered, without skipping a beat.

“Please…” she clucked, rolling her eyes.

“And, well, it was really a choice between you and the security guard tonight,” he joked.

“Not funny,” she deadpanned, though tossing him a grin that showed she knew he was joking.

“Okay,” he nodded, “Well, when we first met I could see the guarded look in your eyes. I recognized it. Not many wear it so openly, but you, sweetheart, are an open book.”

Her instinct was to rebuff that statement, but she knew it was true. “I’ve been… hurt.” she admitted, “More than once.”

“Me too,” he nodded

“So pain is attractive to you?”

“I walked right into that one, didn’t I?” He shook his head, “Not exactly, love. I guess I saw a kindred spirit in you? And though you may have tried to avoid me, you piqued my interest that day. I sought you out, tried to learn a little about you. Ms. Lucas is surprisingly chatty when she brings up the daily figures.”

“I may have asked a bit about you too.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes really, just don’t let that go to your head!”

He gave her a wicked grin in response. She sighed. That cheeky smile of his was probably going to be her downfall.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why did you have to be one of the good ones?”

“The good ones?” he asked, his brow creasing in confusion.

“You know… I’m pretty good at telling when someone is being dishonest.”

“Oh, for all you know, I’m just some dashing rapscallion, love.”

“You wish buddy.”

The pair fell silent for a moment.

“Can I kiss you again?” he asked, strangely nervously considering their current situation.

In reply, she rolled onto her front, running one hand through his hair, her eyes focusing on his mouth, until she kissed him once more.

“Mmmm,” he moaned, “I could get used to that.”

She dropped her forehead to his, her fingers drawing circles against his scalp as the reality of what this all could mean began to dawn on her.

“Killian, we work together…”

“We work for the same company, love, entirely different departments.”

“But still…” she trailed off, searching again for an out clause-

“Love, if you feel this was a mistake-”

“No,” she cried, placing a hand on his chest. “I’m just- Can we take this slow?”

The smile he gave her was a one she hadn’t seen - wide and bright, full of hope - “As you wish, my lovely Swan.”

She kissed him again, rousing them both to round number two.

***

31st December 2017

Emma Swan, 2017

32 years old

Cohabitating with a gorgeous man who loves her (and she loves him)

Still have kickass view of Boston Harbor but this time sharing her bed (and life) with aforementioned gorgeous (and amazing) guy.

Still owner of VW Bug older than she is, but better able to afford mechanic costs since…

Now owner of her very own bail bonds business.

Very, very, sickening happy, thank you very much!,