glitterbombed

spartanguard:

A/N: so @optomisticgirl discovered that there’s this stuff called Passion Dust that is basically glitter for your hoo-ha “to make sex more magical”. Obviously that’s ridiculous and unhealthy. So, obviously, CS had to get in on that. (But safely.)

2.5k of glittersmut | rated M | AO3

A normal weeknight in the Swan-Jones household found Emma spread out over the sofa, scrolling on her phone, with her feet on Killian’s lap, who was reading a book on the other end. Dinner was put away and the house was quiet; it was their new normal, though life was still far from mundane.

At least, it had been quiet, until Emma came across something that was just so silly she couldn’t help but chuckle. And giggle. And then full-on laugh because it was so completely ridiculous.

“What’s so funny, love?” Killian finally asked; she looked past her phone to see that he’d set aside his book and had his attention on her, an amused smirk on his face.

“Look at this!” she blurted out as she sat up and scooted next to him, shoving her phone at him. She watched as he took in what was on the screen, his eyebrow raising in disbelief as he read.

“Surely, they can’t be serious,” he queried, giving her the incredulous side-eyed glance he gave her whenever he thought something in this realm was absurd.

“I mean, doctors say not to use them, but apparently people still do.”

“Just…” he started, then trailed off, shaking his head. “Glitter? Down there?”

“Apparently.” It was just one of those dumb things that popped up on Facebook, but evidently, someone was producing and marketing glitter-filled capsules for use during intimate times. Or, in other words: vaginal glitter bombs. “Haven’t these people ever had sex on the beach?” she added. “It’s gotta be like sand—it gets everywhere and it hurts.”

“Aye,” Killian agreed, wincing. “But sand at least washes out. Glitter…glitter stays with you.”

“Oh?” she asked, almost surprised. He sounded like he was speaking from experience. “And how would you know that?”

He blushed a bit, avoiding her gaze and scratching at that spot behind his ear. “There may have been an…incident in Neverland.”

“Oh, I’ve gotta hear this.”

He sighed, but she could tell it was more out of embarrassment than anything. “I’d bought a vial of what some charlatan was hawking as ‘pixie dust’ on an errand once; I thought it might amuse Tinkerbell. And it did. However, when we were…enjoying ourselves that night, one or the other of us may have been a bit too enthusiastic and the bottle toppled off the shelf. Right onto us.”

“I’m guessing it wasn’t actually pixie dust?”

“No, it was not. I’d imagine pixie dust would make you feel good.” She snorted at that; he didn’t realize the euphemism he’d made. He gave her that sideways glance again but continued on. “This…just went everywhere,” he said with disdain. “It fell right onto where we were, ah, joined, and floated around from there. It was in my chest hair for months and my balls sparkled for more than a year.”

“Aw, I bet you were so pretty,” she teased. “How did Tink fair?”

“Much the same, but without the balls.”

“I figured.” They both giggled, both at the story and at the ease with which they were able to talk about past encounters.

“And besides,” he continued, gesturing toward the insanity on her phone screen. “You and I certainly don’t need this contrived product to create magic in the bedroom, as it seems to be advertising. Not when all the magic we could ever need is already part of you, my love,” he concluded genuinely.

Now she was the one blushing, though that obviously wasn’t something new. But—it gave her an idea. “Hmm…what if we could do it without the mess?” she theorized.

He quirked an eyebrow curiously. “What are you thinking, Swan?”

“I’m thinking…” she started, then set her phone aside and slid her hand into the open V of Killian’s shirt. “…That I’d really like to see what you look like with glitter in your chest hair. And on your balls.”

“Only if I get to see you covered in it, too, darling.”

“Deal.”

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