merry christmas, everyone! this is an indecently long follow-up to that big dick jones prompt i posted just before thanksgiving. this one is smutty.
have an excellent holiday, my darlings. thank you for reading, and i hope santa or the holiday armadillo brings you what you wanted. if not, hmu with good new year’s prompts. i’ll see what i can do.
Emma awoke sometime around six in the morning. And she was hot as hell.
She blinked her eyes open, groggy and yawning and smacking her mouth. She could taste faint traces of pumpkin pie and she smiled, remembering why.
Then she remembered why.
She could feel soft warmth beneath her cheek, could smell pie and the man underneath her. Jones.
Her mind went into “crap, I fell asleep, gotta get outta here” mode, but then she remembered that she was already home. She hadn’t fallen asleep at his
place this time; she had fallen asleep on her own couch. After totally cuddling against him when the Quiet Man finished and they went right into Roman Holiday. It was there in the “suggested titles” and he just kind of looked over at her, raised his eyebrows, wiggled the remote
tantalizingly, and grinned when she shrugged in response. The movie began to play and she felt so warm and sleepy and good that she just sort of…shuffled
into him some more. Didn’t put up a protest when he slung his arm behind her shoulders. Complained when her legs got cold, and turned her face into his
chest to hide her smile when he dropped a throw across their legs. Kept digging into the nearly-finished pumpkin pie with her finger, sort-of-maybe
purposefully licking her fingers clean, enjoying the hitch in his breath every time she did it.
And somewhere between sighing aloud over Gregory Peck and Jones teasing her for being into old men, Emma was lulled to sleep by a belly full of pie and
whiskey and a heart full of confusion.
so a while back i reblogged an AU prompts list, half-jokingly tagging it with “i should write the one thing” and i got a lot of messages from you animals telling me to write the one thing, so. here ya go. happy thanksgiving! [ on ao3 ]
the prompt:
my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick AU
A Hard Man is Good to Find
“So, tell me about Regina’s brother.”
“Huh?”
Emma looked up, startled and a little fuzzy from too many whiskey and cokes. It took a second for her eyes to focus on Mary Margaret, who was slouched on
the sticky table and resting her head on her arms. Her beatific smile was a little dreamier than usual; probably because she had three empty giant
fishbowl-sized margarita glasses lined up next to her face.
“Regina’s been trying to introduce you to her brother Killian for months now. Frankly, I think she’s annoyed that you won’t even meet him, so I offered to
find out why.”
“Since when do you make it a habit of talking to my boss?”
Mary Margaret shrugged. “I don’t know, since back at your housewarming when she brought that delicious lasagna and I wanted the recipe? We text sometimes.
Did you know that she’s overcome a lot to get where she is today?”
“Yeah, I do. She brings it up all the time. Along with how much of an ass her brother is, which apparently means he’s perfect for me. And stop texting my
boss.”
“No. Stop being so closed-off to potential love, and stop complaining about him.”
“Bite me, then go get me a refill. I do not complain about him.”
“Uh,” Ruby smoothly interrupted, plunking a fresh tumbler in front of the bristling Emma. “You’ve been bitching about this for months, hon.”
about a year ago, i posted BDJ. happy american thanksgiving week!
Hook: okay so one of us needs to be the distraction while the other chucks the squid ink at him
Hook: I vote for me
Emma: are you sure, I mean traditionally the blonde chick is the distraction
Hook: Swan, we both know you excel at throwing things, and I am a master of distraction
Hook: I distract people just by walking past and saying something about the weather
Hook: I have made people go weak in the knees by saying “cumulonimbus”
Hook: remember yesterday when you wanted to angst about your fate, I distracted you for five hours
Emma: well…
Hook: six if you count the time in the kitchen, and I do think it counts, since I highly doubt you can sound like THAT when you’re angsting
Emma:
Emma: okay yeah fair point
Emma: but Killian we are talking about Rumplestiltskin, he’s immune to your charms
Hook: correction, he PRETENDS to be immune
Hook: in any case I am also a master provocateur
Emma: oh god
Emma: will you stop using words like that so we can get this show on the road
Hook: I told you I’m good at this
Captain Swan; Explicit; ~2500 words of as close to pwp as I ever get.
I’ve written and read a lot of S6 fic where Emma’s visions are hanging over her like a black cloud, and that angst is delicious, but I decided I wanted to write something set in some future place where she’s overcome her fate. And then I saw a gif from The Dust Storm of Colin getting thrown against a wall and sexily pounced on, and this fic was born.
When Killian’s back hits the wall, a little harder than she intended but with a deeply satisfying thump, Emma feels his breath huff out over her lips. She’s on him immediately, gripping the back of his head and sealing her mouth over his, her tongue delving inside with deep, wet swipes. It takes a second but he recovers from his collision with the living room wall, kissing her back as his hand and hook settle on her hips.
She breaks the kiss with an audible smack, breaths coming fast and hard.
“You all right there, love?”
A giggle almost comes bubbling up from her chest. “I’m not gonna die.”
So after 6×01 I started this little smutlet on the premise that Emma and Killian weren’t interrupted by the dirigible. I let it sit for way too long, but this is the final product. The original inspiration was this gif:
Because now we know what their sex faces look like. (I don’t have a source on this, so if this is yours let me know and I’ll remove or credit per your request.)
He can hardly breathe at the sight of it, the sweet, carefree abandon on her features as he settles above her, her eyes closed and and just the slightest hint of a smile on her lips as he teases at her mouth and presses his hips into hers. Her giggle only wrecks him more, the unbridled happiness on her face and knowing that he is the cause of it, that she’s just as desperate for him, that all the things he thought he’d never have (and certainly didn’t deserve) are laid out in front of him, a wide-open road upon which he can shape his future.
They’re frenzied and giddy and half-clothed when it all comes down to it, she still wearing her sweater and jacket with only one leg out of her jeans and he entirely covered save for his belt and zipper. But that same look crosses her face when he presses inside her, and while they decidedly do not take their time once they begin moving it’s making love all the same, fast and frantic with an underlying sweetness as their fingers tangle together and their foreheads touch.
“Say it again,” he whispers against her mouth as he moves.
Her hand tightens against the small of his back before sliding further down, pulling him tighter against her. “I love you. God, I love you so much.”
cshappybeginning 