A/N: So, the muses spoke and this fic took a right turn into Smutsville. I (still) have at least one more part planned (and maybe an epilogue). Thank you to @the-captains-ayebrows for giving this a read through! Loves ya, babe.
Emma arched her back, revealing a graceful white neck reminiscent of her nickname, her hair spilling all around her shoulders onto the bed like a golden halo.
“So exquisite, Swan,” Killian breathed between searing a pathway of kisses down her smooth, long neck, his mouth delving into the hollow of her throat before finding its way in between her breasts as she sighed softly, her body writhing beneath his.
He could feel her fingers in his hair, digging into his scalp, electrifying him, amplifying the already present ache in his belly, both pleasant and tormenting.
Remember, you can send me an ask if you’re not on the list yet, and also please let me know if you change your URL*
Likewise, remember to track the tag CS birthdays for each weeks’ birthdays 🙂
*Please note that If you don’t let me know you’ve changed your URL and my usual search (in tagged posts with your old URL) for your previous one doesn’t help me find you again, or you didn’t add a “moved” notice to your old URL, I will have to remove you from the list; you can request me to add you again if you don’t see your birthday on the corresponding week’s post.
In desperate need of just getting out of my own head, I set out to write some fluffy, happy times and ended up with a little Friday smutlet. TGIF!
Warmth seems to be radiating everywhere, from her fingertips into the leather of his brace and the side of her thigh practically hitched over his knee beneath the booth, to spicy drag of his rum he’s been tipping into their half empty mugs of hot chocolate. There’s a prevailing weightless feeling settling between them as they somehow find themselves in an unfamiliar unburdened moment. Henry and Violet have long left the diner on a date of the own, leaving just the her and Killian, tucked in a quiet corner where, miraculously…no one needs them for anything.
They could go home and really take advantage, but she’s terrified to jinx it. When his arm between them lifts so he can tuck her into his side, she somehow knows he must feel the same. Dipping a finger into his mug, she scoops some whipped cream from the side and almost has it in her mouth before his reflexes kick in she finds her wrist caught in his grip. Feeling playful and content she just laughs as he brings her finger to his own mouth and swipes the cream with a slightly pornographic curl of his tongue. Her belly swoops low at the heat hiding behind his mirth and she’s suddenly feeling less and less superstitious.
Stressed because they missed the portal, Emma
goes to the place she feels closest to the one she misses the most. Though he
can’t be there with her, the docks calm her. The waves crashing against the
shore bring her a sense of peace. She sits there alone in silence until she
hears the swishing of leather and big footsteps approach her.
“What is a pretty lass like you doing
out here by herself?”
It’s the first Christmas they’ve all had together – the first real Christmas when there hasn’t been a curse hanging thick over their heads, an evil villain lurking in the shadows, or a wraith whipping through town intent on harboring souls (christ, her life). It’s quiet and calm and everything feels good for the first time in a very long time.
She feels like she can catch her breath.
Have a moment.
Make some tree garland out of cranberries and popcorn.
The whole thing is a mess, honestly, and she doesn’t understand why people do this when there is a perfectly acceptable store down on the corner that sells tinsel in all manners of colors and consistencies (fairy tale creatures have a thing for obnoxious decorations, it seems). Her hands are sticky and red and there’s a dismal amount on the string that look whole and perfect, compared to the loops her mother has coiled in neat little rows across the table – her fingers still porcelain and perfectly clean, she notes with a scowl.
anyways the purest scene in all of ouat that isn’t snowing will always be that one part in the season four finale when emma accidentally runs straight into an un-remembering killians arms in the au enchanted forest death star tower & proceeds to gaze @ him w unhindered and radiant adoration for a solid minute whilst he blushes and looks confused
But I love this so much. He’s stunned, looking at her like she’s literal sunshine after he’s spent his life in the dark, and she looks like he’s air and she’s been dying to breathe.
Honestly I just love that the icing on the cake is that huge ass flame behind them.
Very symbolic.
This moment has made me teary more than once. It’s so beautiful.
cshappybeginning 