Finally, I finished this, hooray! As with everything I’m writing lately, it’s pure filth, albeit fluffy feelsy filth. Enjoy. 4900 words, rated Explicit.
I’ve reposted this on ao3 as a separate 3-part fic here.
Part 3
Emma lifted her head, flipped her pillow over, and punched it before flopping her head back onto it. She closed her eyes, counting to fifty. She rolled onto her back, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes hard enough to see spots, groaning in frustration.
There was just no possible way she was going to fall asleep.
Finally, she sat up with a determined frown and swung her feet down onto the cold floor. She reached for the extinguished candle on her bedside table, then thought better of it, leaving it where it was. Emma pulled on her robe and walked over and carefully opened her bedchamber door, listening for the footfalls of a night watchman. Hearing nothing, she slipped out into the passageway.
On the eve of their wedding, Killian had been put in a room in a different wing of the castle, far from Emma’s bedchamber. But after so many years of sneaking down to the kitchen for a midnight snack, it was an easy matter for Emma to avoid the watch’s patrol pattern and make her way to Killian’s bedroom, the location of which she’d made a point of memorizing. Ducking into an alcove and waiting until she was certain she wouldn’t be observed, Emma dashed to the door and carefully opened it, letting herself inside. She locked it behind her.
She heard a fumbling sound, and with her eyes straining in the dim moonlight, she saw Killian’s hand shoot out and knock his candle off the table.
“Who’s there?” he said, his voice raspy with sleep.
“It’s Emma,” she whispered, hurrying over to the bed. “Don’t… raise the alarm or whatever.”
Hi, could you please write a part 3 of the Lieutenant Duckling smut, where they’re finally married and can make love and enjoy each other? please, and thank you
Published
It All Starts With a Dance 