*first time writing real smut in way over a year. Yikes.*
It was usually in his bed that they ended up. She has a roommate and that makes things more complicated. Today they barely make it into his apartment before his hands begin to strip her of her clothing. Her dress unzipped with little ceremony before his mouth leads a trail from her neck to between her breasts. She bites her bottom lip, feeding her fingers into his hair, knowing that this is only the beginning of the evenings events.
She’d never had a better lover. She was sure it was because with Killian, she was finally able to set herself free. There was no pressure: no feelings to muddy the waters or make her second guess each action she made. They weren’t trying to impress each other, merely using each other to scratch that intimate itch.
Her bra is left in the hallway, his hands cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples into hardness as she undoes the buttons of his shirt and spreads her palms over his chest. She loves his body: the dark hair that leads down his stomach, the curve of his biceps when he is fucking her, the feel of his ass cupped in her hands as he comes.
I’m the anon who sent you an ask about complete fic recs earlier, and I was wondering if it would be possible for you to try to pick longer multi-chapters, I like fanfic which is almost like a novel! Thanks so much!!!
hey! i get the preference for complete fics. that’s why i’m waiting weeks to start @phiralovesloki‘ s new fic, instead of reading a chapter a week like a normal person.
1. Super Long MCs list : this list has my favourite extra long multichapters. most are complete, some are not. but fear not, the WIPs are active.
more complete fics, which i love but i’m not sure if they are in the lists above:
Kind Hearts and Cat Flaps by @ooshka-babooshka Emma Swan wasn’t really a cat person, but she’d come to appreciate the tiny stray she’d given a home to. That didn’t mean she needed another one hanging around, especially not a noisy, geriatric, thief with no appreciation of personal space. And she definitely wasn’t sure about the cat’s owner, Killian Jones, or his intentions. But just because everyone leaves in the end, does it really mean you can’t be happy in the here and now?
The Absence of You by @slimacwrites AU: When Emma Swan, a young social worker, stumbled into Killian Jones’s hospital room looking for her mischievous son she never thought the encounter would go farther. But she’ll soon come to realize that Killian needs her more than she knows. And maybe, she might need him too.
Conversations with Dead People by @bluestoplights Emma Swan, former cop turned private investigator, doesn’t like getting involved – not with cases and definitely not with people. As a shady enterprise on the unfinished business – or conversations – of the dead begins to have dangerous consequences, she might be challenged on both counts.
Writers Block by @gusenitsaa Killian Jones has a way with words. Or he used to… but after the accident things weren’t the same. When he fires his editor the publishing company sends him someone new to determine if his career can be salvaged or if he’s a lost cause…“No one uses the word malfeasance! Damn it Killian, are you drunk again?”
When Emma Swan auditioned X- Factor as singer, the last thing she was expecting was being put as group with the most dashing, but a really pain in the ass, man Killian Jones. Singer!Killian Singer!Emma
A/N: I know a lot of you here on Tumblr didn’t read my story at all, but after a lot of thinking I guess I should definitely put the last chapter of it. So if you want to read it from the top here are chapter 1 [x] chapter 2 [x]
NO YOU DON’T NEED TO WATCH X-FACTOR TO FOLLOW THE STORY
From the bootcamp to the show was three weeks later.
In that time Emma flew with her son and Mary Margaret to LA, found an apartment for the 3 of them. David couldn’t go because now that Emma couldn’t work anymore, he needs to be in the station more.
So now, after they finally finished with the move to their new home, Killian and Emma were trying to get to know each other. After all they were gonna sing together for a long time.
“So love, what are we gonna call ourselves?” He asked her one day when he came to dinner to their apartment.
“Do we have to come up with a group name? Can’t we just be Killian and Emma or Emma and Killian?” She groaned with her best friend next to her and her son on her lap watching some weird show on TV.
Killian was sitting in the one person sofa, the one Henry loves to jump on, beer in hand and his beard just shaved to make him look a lot younger than he is.
“Come on love. Every amazing group has a name, we need to have one” He smirked at her while her son jumped from her lap to go where Killian sat. She rolled her eyes not giving him much hope about the name.
“Just saying… I’m not gonna wear matching clothes with you. We are not gonna be like the Backstreet Boys or ‘NSYNC,“ Emma said to Killian a little hard, not really looking at him.
That’s when Mary Margaret had enough, giving a big sigh and standing up from the couch.
“I think you two need to go to see the city. Get to know each other and then you will find the perfect name to win this show,” she answered, taking Henry in her arms and going to the room, leaving them alone on the little salon.
Both of them looked like two little kids taking their belongs and quickly went out the door to see what it is about California that people love so much.
They called themselves Captain Swan.
Because he works in the navy, so he is like a captain. She found that out while they were eating an ice cream.
Working through my creative block by writing some fix-it fics for things that bugged me in 6B. This is set right after Killian’s conversation with Nemo on the docks after the first proposal. I also pulled two of my kiss prompts into this “surprise kiss” and “I’m sorry kiss”.
“Seek forgiveness. Because whatever happened, it will always stay with you.”
Nemo’s words churn wildly in his gut long after he’s gone, the man’s friendly advice, while what he knows he needed to hear, putting voice to the only choice he has left. He’s been through too much with Emma to hide from her. She deserves to hear the truth, her entire family does.
Lifting his flask to his lips he takes another long drag of the strong rum, remembering when it had once given him solace, or at least an escape. Now, it just tastes like his past. A past he’s worked hard to forgive himself for.
“There you are.”
Startled by Emma’s voice, fingers numb from the cold lose grip on the flask and it clatters to the wood of the dock at his feet. His reflexes are a bit dulled by the alcohol and she’s moved to pick it up before he’s even thought about bending to retrieve it. Her eyebrows narrow as she obviously notes how empty it is, but she still smiles before taking a sip of her own. Cold muscles beneath his skin tighten slightly at the sight of her as thoughts of Neverland and tasting the same rum on her lips for the first time come rushing back.
When she steps forward to place her free hand on his chest and press her lips softly against his, he’s all at once reminded of how far they’ve come. He feels like a thief in the night when he leans in for more, his hand at her back stealing her warmth and grasping for her love before it’s potentially ripped away.
“Sorry, didn’t meant to startle you,” she whispers, her breath warm against his numb lips.
“Happy surprise, love.” He nuzzles her nose with his in hopes of selling the half truth, despite knowing he won’t be leaving these docks without relieving himself from this guilt that’s threatening to devour everything he holds dear.
Her hands are warm as she burrows them around his back beneath his jacket, but the green of her eyes look a bit icey as she pulls back from his lips to lock him in her gaze.
“So, wanna tell me why you’re hiding out here all by yourself? I knew something was wrong when you didn’t want to come to the loft and now I find you half drunk and freezing your ass off.”
@couldnthandleit called for some CS smut based on Jen’s outfit and I can’t be the only one who was like “is that… dress… kind of see through?” right?? just a little baby bit, i’m out of practice
He glances up, alerted to her presence by the exaggerated way she clears her throat. All rational thought flies out of his head; his mouth falls open; he drinks her in like a man dying of thirst, this ethereal goddess he’s so blessed to call his wife. Her golden hair falls in loose waves down her back and over the pale shift hanging loosely over her lithe form. It does little to conceal the scraps of fabric she calls underthings, something she’s very aware of if her sly little smile is anything to go on.
She’s crossing the study in slow, sure steps, then she plucks the book from his hands with a murmured remark about climbing aboard. He barely has time to say “Yes” before her mouth covers his, swallowing the word as she straddles his legs and braces herself on his shoulders.
He loves her in the mornings, when she’s sleepy and soft, curling into him and pressing her cold toes against his shins, convincing him (with very little effort) to stay in bed just a while longer. He loves her at lunchtime, when she steals him away to the one blind spot in the sheriff’s office to kiss him breathless, to untuck his shirt and unzip his trousers, to beg him to take her hard and fast against the wall before anyone can see. He loves her in the middle of the night, when they wake each other up after nightmares, when they hold one another and whisper words of comfort until the blanket of sleep claims them once more.
But this, he loves this almost most of all, when she’s seductive and demanding – when her lips are hard against his, when she’s biting and sucking at every inch of skin she can reach – when she dresses in her most scandalous outfits – he could rip this shift as if it were made of tissue paper if he wanted – when Emma Swan just wants and takes and he’s oh so very willing to give her all he has and more.
When they join, a hurried thing that has them both whimpering with need, he does tear the shift a bit, the seam snapping when he tugs too hard. The sound of fabric tearing does something to her, urges her to ride him faster and kiss him harder. She never gives him a chance to reciprocate, her kisses fast and wet on his lips, cheeks, neck, wherever she can reach. He is caught in the cyclone of Emma, Emma, Emma, whisked away to overwhelming pleasure as she convulses around him and he spills himself deep into her womb.
Summary: In a bid for the power born of true love, King Arthur binds Emma to the broken blade Excalibur. Unbeknownst to him, Killian Jones is bound to the other half, having given himself over to the darkness in order to exact his revenge on Rumpelstiltskin. He frees Emma from King Arthur’s control, sparking the beginnings of war between Camelot and Misthaven, and a quest to rid her of the darkness. (No Curse AU)
Notes: All my love and gratitude to @ripplestitchskein and @unfolded73 for their help with this fic. Credit to @seethelovelyintheworld for the gorgeous banner. Only the epilogue remains! I’m so sad to see this come to close, but also so grateful for your support. The epilogue will be posted on Wednesday.
Emma
watched, with both great sorrow, and great joy, as the world began to shift.
Aldan
had returned from the Underworld with a single strand of Killian’s hair, and
the seeds planted for a change of heart. After she had quietly asked for
a strand of Emma’s own hair, she had gazed longingly up at the sky, where the
hands of Killian’s lonely mountain reached up towards the stars. Then,
they’d both watched, captivated, as the strands of their hair twisted together,
two unbreakable threads of magic glowing brightly in the little bottle.
Emma had hardly been able to appreciate the moment, to dwell upon the
fact that the love she and Killian shared was true, surmounting death itself.
The magic swirling in the bottle, it had felt alive, as much as he
was not…
A/N: This one pretty much yelled in my ear to write it until I sat down and just did it. Just a bitty one, riding in at 1.1k. I hope you enjoy it!
Rating: Verges sliiiiightly on M territory but pretty much only at the beginning.
It’s when Emma’s hands start on the removal of Killian’s belt that he
thinks to stop her, that he thinks ‘this probably can’t end well,’ and that he
thinks he’ll stop kissing her long enough to say so. Then again, this is Emma
Swan, and she’s kissing him back, and her fingers are just dipping below the
waist of his boxers and how could he possibly allow thoughts to stop him from
anything at that point?
This fic is to celebrate @word-bug and her turning a year older! Happy Birthday, Vaish, I love you! We discussed this Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani AU at length, and I hope you like it!
I could have never perfected it without the help of my Bae-ta (ha ha!) @accio-ambition! You’re the best, thnz
“Swan, you alright?” Killian asked, crouching in front of her. She shook her head, the grin finally breaking through. “I’m going to London,” she announced, the first time she ever said the words out loud.
Emma Swan’s life changed that night, and she left Storybrooke to follow her dreams. But it’s time for her to find her way back home, and what better way to bring her back than for a wedding?
Killian grinned, watching as Ruby and Dorothy went wild on
the dance floor. Their arms were slung around each other, smiles wide as they
danced to the beat of the music. Dorothy laughed at something Ruby said, her
head thrown back. The look on Ruby’s face made him grin wider, beyond happy
that his best friend seemed to have found someone to spend the rest of her life
with. He might have met her only five years ago, but it seems like he’s known
her much longer.
Her and Graham, he
reminded himself, grunting as his mate bumped into him hard, taking a seat next
to him, a glass of scotch (he assumed) clutched in his hands. “What are you
moping here for, Killian? It’s a party, mate,” he slurred.
Before he could respond
with a scathing remark, Ruby pulled him out of his seat, forcing him into the
crowd with her. He had to stomp down the urge to grumble, knowing how important
this weekend was to Ruby. After all, it wasn’t everyday your best friend gets
married in Vienna of all places.
When Ruby had first told
him she was getting married, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. However,
he knew how much being with Dorothy had changed her, even mended her broken
heart. She’d become someone different – someone who was proud of herself.
And so, he pushed aside
his own heartache, knowing that no matter how much he hoped, the person he
really wanted here with him would probably not show up. She probably didn’t
even know that there was a wedding happening.
Suddenly, the music
stopped, making everyone groan and whine, turning to the DJ for an explanation.
Right before things got too chaotic, the other side with the stage lit up, the
sound of a familiar song started up, making him suck in a sharp breath. When he
could see who was on stage more clearly, his heart dropped to his gut. He felt
Ruby’s talon like nails grip his arm, a whispered oh my God
leaving her lips before she cried it even louder.
“OH MY GOD. EMMA!” she
shouted, running to the stage to hug the blonde, just as We Like to Party by the Vangaboys came on, both girls singing it together, the whole
club soon joining them. Killian, well, he was stuck in the same spot, his eyes
never leaving the dancing goddess on stage, her cheeks red from laughter and
golden hair flipping around.
She was back. Five years
later, but she was actually back.
“Maybe he’s a bit mad, finding more pleasure in speaking to a bird than with people. It’s not as if she speaks back to him. But she doesn’t walk away and that’s better than he can say for most humans he’s known in his life.”
(a.k.a the fic i wrote as follow-up to this post… IT’D BE CUTE RIGHT? anyway this isn’t spec, just wishful thinking on my part to explain Emma’s absence in the S7 curse)
Officer Rogers considers himself a kind enough person. He may not be good at socializing, and he certainly has no idea how to act around women, but it’s not as if there’s much he can do about it. It’s just not who he is; though, oftentimes he has to wonder if his true self is resting somewhere deep inside, waiting for some grand change in circumstances that might awaken him.
It’s a foolish thought. He knows well enough it’s just because he doesn’t try hard enough to be normal, to fit in. At least, that’s what his father would say if he were still around. But he also knows that despite his awkward nature, it’s really no excuse for how often his coworkers seem to talk about him behind his back.
This was the fifth time that he could remember hearing them planning an after-work trip to the pub down the street in the past month.
“Don’t invite Rogers. He’ll just bring us all down.”
“Good idea. He’d just make a mess of things, clumsy bastard.”
“The guy doesn’t know the meaning of a good time.”
For whispering, they were all rather loud. He showed no outward signs he’d heard them, taking his outcast status with as much grace as he could. Suffice it to say, he’d never been invited. He’s certain he never will be.
But no matter, he forces himself to think. It’s not as if I’d enjoy their company, anyway.
Instead of lingering on the fantasy of what he’d do if he had been asked to join them – come out of his shell; be charming and sociable; make lifelong friends for his cheerful and upbeat attitude (what a joke) – he changes out of his poorly fitted uniform and into his jeans, t-shirt, and hoodie.
I’ve done FOUR!!!! training modules today and my brain is turning into mush.
“There, that wasn’t so bad now was it?”
Emma’s ringing ears say otherwise, but she’s not her dad. Maybe this tantrum isn’t as bad as the others, but if it’s not she (thankfully) doesn’t have to be here all the time while Neal’s teething. David leaves Neal to the frozen banana and sits at the table with her. “Why not numb him up with a bit of whiskey?” Killian asks, still perched near Neal’s playpen.
Emma catches the scandalized look on her dad’s face and tries not to laugh as he says, “I’m not giving my child alcohol just because he’s upset!”
“Dad–”
“Look, mate, you don’t dose him with it,” Killian explains, all too patiently. “Just dab it on with a finger, he loses the pain and sleeps like a–well, like a baby, you and the wife get some rest, and everyone’s much more cheerful come morning.”
It All Starts With a Dance 