A/N: So @useyourhook said she was having a bad day, and wanted some CS comfort…and this little itty bitty thing came out. I guess I just can’t not include some sort of smut element. lol Unbeta’d and super shot, but it’s late lol.
“Swan? Emma, are you alright?”
Emma was jerked out of her momentary daydream by her husband’s concerned tone. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you never answered my question, and then I saw that far away look in your eye.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I was just thinking about how is almost been a year since…” her voice cracked as she tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.
Killian knew exactly what she was referring to, and he pulled her body close to his, encasing her in his arms. The dam broke, her tears falling freely as he held her. Killian leaned his mouth to her ear. “Love, you did what you had to do to save everyone. And I wanted to be your hero; everyone’s hero. How many times do I have to remind you that I’m a survivor?”
Killian heard her laugh through the tears. “Still, I’m the one that killed you…”
“And yet, here I stand, fully intact.” Emma pulled her head away from his chest, eyes reddened and her face damp. He pulled her face up to meet his, and he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I love you, Emma. I am only here because you fought for me.”
Emma smiled. “Your are my happy ending as much I am yours.”
“And I am forever grateful. Now, I believe we have business to attend to, lass.” Killian pulled away from his wife, who was being suspended by one of the masts on the Jolly Roger, completely naked. “What shall it be today? The riding crop? Or the cat o’ nine tails?”
“Whichever pleases you, Captain.”
Tag: fanfic
do they even make ring pops anymore?–a post-ep cs ff
spoilers for 6.14. angst. hope. candy without fluff.
Do They Even Make Ring Pops Anymore?
Emma remembered it so, so clearly: an old commercial from when she was a kid, silly and stupid like all commercials aimed at kids, colorful in her memory because it had been the eighties and so catchy that it stuck with her all these years later. A boy with a box behind his back, standing in front of a girl with a high side ponytail. “Will you wear my ring?” he asked, presenting the box with the candy ring in it. “Ring Pop!” she exclaimed, because all girls want to get married to some boy, right?And because kids are susceptible to good marketing, it became a thing at the school she’d been in at the time for girls to go around wearing Ring Pops on the playground, proposing to each other and dissolving into ridiculous laughter until the teachers confiscated the illegal candy.
Not Emma, of course. She’d never really made friends in the schools she attended. You have to remain in a place long enough to actually make a friend to get one that would fake propose to you with a giant grape-flavored engagement ring on the playground during recess.
Standing on Ceremony – 1/1
Pairing: Captain Swan (canon divergence)
Rating: M
Summary: Killian Jones doesn’t do casual. In the blur that is moving house (moving in together), it takes Emma a couple of
days to notice. Once she does notice,
though, she can’t unsee it, as Henry would say.
Whether it’s relationships or clothing, he is – to borrow a phrase of
his from a lifetime ago – someone who likes to stand on ceremony.Notes:
For my dearest friend @scribblecat27, on the wondrous occasion of her birthday. Sorry I can’t be there to give you a RL hug this year, so I hope this will suffice.
Inspired by all of us who keep thinking ‘why on earth can’t that man take off his jacket and shoes when he’s in his own home?’ Apologies to anyone who may have already written something along these lines, alas, I haven’t been fortunate enough to read it if it exists! Set in the same universe as “To Plant a Garden (is to believe in tomorrow)” and “Goodnight, Moon”.
~*~
It’s official.
Killian Jones doesn’t do casual.
In the blur that is moving house (moving in together), it takes Emma a couple of
days to notice. Once she does notice,
though, she can’t unsee it, as Henry would say.
Whether it’s relationships or clothing, he is – to borrow a phrase of
his from a lifetime ago – someone who likes to stand on ceremony.She can’t deny it, the reality of living together is both
exciting and a little awkward. They’ve already
shared so much – life and death and danger and sacrifice – that the intimacy of
sharing a bedroom and a bathroom should
be a walk in the park, but it’s not, at least not at first. She’s never given so
much thought to such mundane rituals as tossing her worn underwear into the
laundry basket or shaving her legs in the shower, and she’s pretty sure she
hasn’t blushed this much in her entire life.She’s never been happier, though, which is probably the real
reason why it takes her a few days to notice that her live-in pirate is still a
little old-fashioned when it comes to clothing.
I didn’t know you snored until a half hour ago but i’m staring at the ceiling fighting the urge to kick you
I’m finally getting back to these bed-sharing prompts! And because writing the last Friends to Lovers with no pining was so fun, here’s another one. 😉 (3000 ish words – Rated M, obviously) AO3
“You sure you’re okay with this, Swan?”
“Yeah, no big deal.” Quickly walking past Killian and their one full size bed on her way to the bathroom, she hopes the nonchalance in her voice sounded believable.
It had been a great day. A seriously great day. In what had been an uncharacteristically impulsive decision, Emma had taken Killian up on his offer to come out here with him during Spring Break. She had been just as curious to see the Grand Canyon as to see what it would be like to hang out with her fellow professor outside of the stuffy confines of their day to day life. They’d started out a bit like oil and water when they had first met, his bad boy reputation and constant flirting the exact opposite of her favorite thing. But man, was he persistent. After a few months of sharing an office he’d somehow weaseled his way past a few of her defenses, giving him a well-earned spot on her friend list, a list with very few names. There were other times though, like earlier tonight, with the two of them lying close together beneath a breathtaking blanket of stars, that she wondered if his name was getting closer to finding its way to another list, one she thought she had closed off for new members long ago.
So yeah, she’s perfectly fine sharing a too small bed with Killian Jones, because that isn’t going to be complicated or uncomfortable…not at all. Curse these tiny cabins. As she brushes her teeth she stares at herself in the mirror, taking in the bit of pink on her cheeks from their hours spent hiking in the sun, remembering how they had ached from smiling and laughing at the man on the other side of the bathroom door. God, it really has been a great day. She hopes she doesn’t somehow ruin it by acting weird now. It’s been years since she’s shared a bed with a man for anything other than sex – and sleeping together after that, nope, not on the table. So the idea of just the sleeping is a bit terrifying, even if there isn’t going to be any sex.
There isn’t right?
Kiss me, I’m Irish ☘
Just a little smutty Friends to Lovers (with no pining!) fun for this holiday, dedicated to @swallowedsong for various reasons. Sláinte! (rated M, 3000 words, AO3)
She almost choked on her green beer as her best friend’s feet came up off the ground as the burly, flanneled lumberjack (well, big guy in flannel shirt) at the bar planted a smacking kiss right on those unsuspecting lips. She’d told Killian what would happen if we wore that shirt, but he didn’t listen. Emma’s laughter is lost in the packed pub filled to the brim with St. Patrick’s Day revelers, but she knows Killian hears it, his telltale eyebrow lifting as Paul Bunyan releases him and gives him a jovial pat on the back.
“You had to know that would happen at some point, lad.”
“Aye, mate…sláinte!”
Emma shakes her head at Killian’s seemingly unflappable facade, watching as he shares a big grin and a toast with his kissing buddy at the end of the bar. But as he makes his way back to her she can see the signs of his mild embarrassment in the red glow of his pointy ears to the sheen of sweat at the hollow of his throat.
“Regretting that shirt yet?”
“Why Swan? That was the best kiss I’ve had all night.”
Pretzel Week. Day 3:
Coworkers in the Enchanted Forest AU
For centuries, the Knights of the Tower had been chosen to serve and protect the kingdom. The call had been fleet, showing up at different stages in life.
For Killian Jones, it had been at birth, when the blue light descended upon him and his mother had to leave him at the steps of the tower with a soft kiss on his temple and a promise ring that Killian carried on a thick silver chain that hung at his neck. His life had been nothing but serve and protect, not giving a single thought to nothing else.
For Emma, the Swan Princess and heiress to the throne, had been at eighteen, when the blue light came upon her during her coming-out ball. The Queen and King had left her at the steps of the tower with tears in their eyes as they held onto her little brother, now heir to the throne.
We Got Friday Nights
A little friends to lovers drabble/one shot for @thesschesthair cos she likes them and she is awesome!
When your best friend is gorgeous, smart and one of the most decent people you’d ever met, it makes sense that people would think you were a couple. Of course every time this happened to Killian Jones and Emma Swan they’d laugh it off and say there was no chance that anything like that could ever happen.
They were friends – for almost five years – and they quite liked it that way.
Only one time, she had seriously considered it.
They were in the middle of this health kick – running a few times a week after Emma had almost collapsed chasing a skip up a fire escape. Killian had offered to run with her – it wasn’t safe for her to be running around on her own, he’d said – she’d rolled her eyes and reminded him that she could take care of herself and that Storybrooke was hardly the crime capital of New England. He’d still insisted on joining her.
One Saturday he’d knocked on her apartment door, too early for the sun even to have peeked over the horizon. The park was deserted as they pounded the trails in companionable silence until it began to rain. A fine mist at first, it quickly graduated into a heavy downpour with large, freezing drops saturating them in seconds as they raced to the cover of the trees.
Killian laughed when she slipped in the mud, his hands coming up to her waist to halt her fall – they were warm, even through her soaked t-shirt. He was close enough she could really appreciate those damn blue eyes of his that never saw him leave a bar without at least one phone number (wanted or not). His hair had fallen over those eyes. She’d told him a dozen times to cut it and he always just shrugged. Water dripped down those silky tendrils, drizzling across his cheek. Dazed, she’d stared at his perfect face.
For a second, she’d forgotten who he was ( her best friend ) and why they’d never been more than that (she didn’t do relationships or men in general, he just didn’t do commitment). For a moment he was just a handsome, perfect guy who she was very attracted to… so she reached up and brushed away the rogue strands, her fingers sliding down his cheek, reluctant to break the contact. It was okay- just for that moment – to let herself get lost in the smile he gave her and to imagine what it would be like to kiss those lips and for those hands to tighten at her waist and draw her close.
They’d hugged a thousand times. But that was different, because he was her friend and every hug they shared was devoid of that pulling tension she felt right then. Warmth radiated from him as the rain tumbled through the pine trees. She let herself daydream for a few perilous moments about a “them” – a dream of cozy dates and tangled limbs and kisses and-
Then, of course, reality kicked in. The rain vanished, the sun replacing it in the blink of an eye. He’d tugged on her shoulder, rousing her out of the dream as he asked her if she was ready to head back. She’d smiled and nodded, avoiding his gaze until her feet found that rhythm again on the mossy footpaths, each step pushing that idea further away.
Do you still take smut prompts? I was dry humping my boyfriend on the weekend until he came (gotta love being in control and he loved every second of it) anyway any chance of writing a smutty CS fic where Emma humps Killian till he explodes?
ten minute warm up with this amazing story, thanks for sharing!! 😉
Sometimes, making it up to the bedroom was too much work.
Sometimes, shedding all of their clothes was too much work.
And today, shedding any clothes at all was definitely not on her agenda.
She loved the way his hair looked after a particularly intense make-out session. It stuck up in wisps and curled in a way that read “wrecked” and very much enhanced the look of hungry desperation on his face as he watched her straddle his hips.
His Brightest Star Was You – a missing Wish!Realm scene
AN: This wouldn’t leave my brain so I had to write it. For @acrobat-elle who I love a lot. I’ve been wanting to write you something forever and this is a gift for keeping it real about this episode and just generally being awesome and lovely. I hope you like it darling.
Word Count: 1198
_____
Even if the man sprawled, open mouthed and snoring on the bed before her was only barely recognizable, a grim shadow of the man she knew, Emma took comfort in the fact that his home was for the most part unchanged. He always took impeccable care of his ship, even if the same couldn’t always be said of himself.
There were new books lining the mantle, a few things replaced or slightly off from the Jolly she knew, but the feel of the vessel, the warmth and care shown on the spotlessly clean deck, in the tidy and efficient cabin, everything arranged just so, was exactly the same.
Emma laid his sword carefully on the table, and looked around, finally feeling some measure of peace in the day’s recent chaos. The palace she had called home here wasn’t a world she knew, the years of growing up there, of her marriage, and raising her son in the endless echoing corridors, elaborate balls and parties, were familiar in the way dreams are, intangible, fleeting, curling and fading around the edges with every moment after the dawn.
This ship however, she knew this ship.
kissing isn’t touching–a cs neverland renaissance fic (rated E)
neverland renaissance! post-The Kiss
™ filth, to be more precise. this is my gift to you on this day, the holiday i do not like. expect no romance or love in this fic; it’s just filth. [ on ao3 ]
Kissing Isn’t TouchingEmma couldn’t get that one song by the Killers out of her head.
Her father had insisted that they stop for the night (“How do you know it’s even nighttime,” she’d grumbled, annoyed when no one answered her obviously rhetorical question). Regina had disappeared off to god-knows-where, so now it was just the four of them: Emma and her parents.
And Hook.
And, if she was being totally honest with herself, the ghost of Neal.
“‘Cause I just can’t look, it’s killing me,” she whisper-sang under her breath, pushing aside some stupid fucking leaves larger than her face and scanning for a good spot. Not that anywhere in fucking Neverland could be considered good, but she was determined to get some goddamned sleep, all by herself.
If only she could stop thinking about…
It All Starts With a Dance 