They’re in a rut. That’s what Deputy Emma Swan tells herself over and over again as her boyfriend, Killian Jones, grows more and more distant, and more frustrated, due to complications with his dissertation research on tornado formation. But storm season’s more than halfway over and this dry spell is doing nothing to make things easier for him–or their relationship. Will everything blow over, or is there a greater storm on the horizon?
Rating: E
Content warnings:
Graphic depictions of injury resulting from natural disasters, minor character death
Thank you a million times over to @optomisticgirl for making all the banners and art, to @spartanguard for beta’ing and cheerleading and generally listening to me whine, and to @idoltina for literally listening to me yammer on about this for the last two years while I didn’t actually write more than half a chapter of it in all of that time.
This is also on AO3 or FF.Netif that’s how you wanna roll.
The air in her bedroom felt heavy and damp, but Emma Swan wasn’t letting a warm spring night like this get away from her. Too often growing up, she had spent time arguing with her adoptive mother Ingrid about the thermostat and even though she hadn’t lived with Ingrid for almost three years, Emma still thought the best thing about having her own place was control of her own environment. Summer and its brutal temperatures would be here soon enough and she and everyone else would then close themselves up in their air conditioning.
(“Fishers are practically immune to the cold,” Ingrid would say, with the thermostat set at 68 in April. “I’m not actually a Fisher, Mom,” Emma would argue right back, bundled up in a hoodie and jeans even though it was 80 outside.)
No, tonight Emma planned on reading until she fell asleep, lulled by the smell of an incoming spring storm and the roll of thunder off in the distance.
Besides, she knew her boyfriend didn’t mind it in the least.
Summary : In a time of political unrest, two souls find each other. A Tale of war, danger, espionage and love. contains Irish Swan trio chapters. Inspired by the movie Head in the Clouds.
Smut ahoy! Definitely NSFW. Marginally set in my The Princess Training Diaries universe, but you don’t have to read that piece. Basically, Pan was actually defeated in Neverland; Killian and Emma love their kink; and Killian is a product of True Love and has magic of his own. Enjoy!
Notes: Hi internet. I…um….I wrote porn. That’s the only way I can describe this. It’s just porn. No plot. Just straight up silly, slightly sentimental, married but totally in love Captain Swan porn. How did this happen? Well, I’m just blaming @initiala for this. It’s easier that way, especially this is a part of the @cscocktoberfest extravaganza. Special thank you to @optomisticgirl and @adira-tyree for listening to me whine about how terrible I am at smut writing. I couldn’t have done it without either of you. Special shout-out to Daniel for being cool about this nonsense and making me laugh and being the coolest about me writing about fictional characters banging and even using the phrase “Killian’s thundercock.” I will never be over it. You’re literally the best. Summary: Emma hates mornings. Killian loves them. Normally, he’s good about it, allowing her to sleep in to her hearts content. Though sometimes, he isn’t so mindful but rather insistent on changing her opinions on mornings. Word Count: 2,500+ Rating: E
Emma Swan was not a morning person. In fact, she resented the very concept of mornings. Sleep had been an elusive throughout her life so she treasured it whenever she got it. She would laze for hours if she could get away with it, snuggled into her pillows and buried under layers upon layers of blankets. The very thought of waking up to the world, of leaving the warmth and comfort of her bed, was abhorrent and often those who woke her often ended up with a pillow to the face.
Including her husband…especially her husband.
Where Emma loathed mornings and was incapable of normal human interaction without a shower and at least three cups of coffee, Killian loved them. He had zero qualms with kicking off the bedclothes and starting bright and early. He was always inhumanly alert and up for anything. It stunned her that he was actually capable of forming complete sentences from the second he woke up.
His early morning energy was irritating but more often than not, he was a conscientious and courteous bedfellow. He was capable of being quiet and moving out of the bed carefully enough that she could ignore him and continue sleeping. More often than not, she would roll onto his unoccupied side of the bed, soaking in the heat left behind in sheets and continuing to doze throughout the morning while he showered and shaved. He would give her an hour or two to herself before chiding her gently and placing a cup of coffee under her nose in order to coax her out of bed without any bloodshed.
However, there were also mornings where he wasn’t so mindful but insistent on coming between her and her sleep.
He often liked to claim that she needed to reevaluate her opinions on mornings and he was only trying to help her get a new perspective on them. He would roll her over and kiss her while she was barely coherent, ignoring her protests of morning breath and snarled hair. An uncoordinated but hard kick was often enough to keep him at bay and reclaim her place in dream land but sometimes she humored him.
Summary: “Here’s what’s gonna happen, buddy. We are going to sleep. In this bed. Together. Preferably till tomorrow afternoon. And there will be no funny business, got it?”-Post 5×23. Silly, pointless fluff.
It All Starts With a Dance 