I saw this “imagine your OTP” story a while back and honestly, couldn’t image Captain Swan being that sappy. So I wrote this instead. This is part one, part two to follow (hopefully very) soon.
Thanks to @mahstatins for reading this, encouraging me and existing.
“Fuck,
fuck fuck!!” Killian mutters under his breath as his laptop suddenly dies, just
before he sent off his work to his editor. Rage bubbles in his veins and he has
to take a deep breath to calm the urge to fling his laptop across the room.
It’s been that sort of day: the milk
he’d bought just the day before was already off. His supposedly clean laundry
smelled a little funky from the ancient communal washing machine and so he had
nothing decent to wear. He’d missed the bus by a whisker – the doors
practically closing in his face as he ran up – making him late for the dentist.
And then came lunchtime when he’d
seen his Milah’s ex out with a pretty young thing. The sight of that man alone
was enough to stoke his ire. (To this day he was convinced that the beast had
tampered with their brakes, thus causing the fatal crash that cost him his hand
and, more importantly, his love.) But to see him so happy and in love when
Killian still mourned for Milah? That burned. He had to leave the cafe without
eating lest he punched the man when he noticed the matching rings on their
fingers.
Killian had been camped out in this
particular cafe ever since. He reaches for his coffee and scowls as he realises
that he’s reached the bitter end. Thank
heaven for free refills. He
strides over to the counter and puts his cup down, trying to catch the eye of
the lovelorn-looking barista.
“I only suggested that you sign Henry up for the course! How was I supposed to know it was designed for two people?”
Emma wanted to argue with her best friend, but she knew Mary Margaret was right. It didn’t keep her from grumbling under her breath about it. Mary Margaret just chuckled over the rim of her coffee cup before she took a sip, turning back to face the bay, the sounds of her home surrounding her.
My second contribution to @cscocktoberfest, the conclusion to the first!
Summary: Emma Swan lives alone and likes it that way. Still, she has needs. Needs that since she moved to the small town of Storybrooke have decidedly not been met. Then one snowy afternoon Killian Jones appears at her door, and Emma realises that he can give her everything she needs… and more.
Rating: E for sex and language and sex. Did I mention there’s sex?
A few notes: Look, I’m sorry, okay? I tried to write pure smut, I really did, but the romance and the angst just kept creeping in and I can only resist so much pressure. I’ll keep trying.
On a happier note, I’ve loved the speculation some of you have sent me about what Emma does. I hope you aren’t disappointed by the reveal!
Killian tried not to let his mouth hang open as he looked around him. Her studio was a largish room, with shelves from floor to ceiling on three sides. Metal rigs hung from the ceiling, some bearing large bunches of dried herbs and flowers, others ending in empty hooks dangling over a large wooden worktable. In the centre of the room was an enormous vat, divided into sixteen smaller vats, each containing a waxy-looking substance, each a different colour.
But it was the shelves on the wall to his left that commanded Killian’s attention. The other two walls were filled with what looked like supplies and tools, but the third held her finished works. And they were breathtaking. Some tall and tapered, others squat and rounded, still others so large and ornate they resembled sculptures. All in a soft rainbow of colours, blended and woven as skilfully as in the most ornate tapestry.
Emma looked positively delicious. Her face was flushed, and her tongue couldn’t stop licking between her lips. Killian took note of her careful steps, and arched an eyebrow. She must’ve had some release already, or she would’ve thrown him back on the bed and mounted him by now.
Emma woke up flat on her stomach, face becoming one with her
pillow and her fiancé’s arm slung around her waist. Not an uncommon occurrence
(though the fiancé part still brought a flush of happiness to her cheeks with
its newness), but one that made her lips curl into a particular grin this
morning.
Last night they had dragged themselves to bed, unsteady on
their feet with exhaustion. It was as a tiring few weeks (months? years?) and
the quiet moments they both craved were few and far between. The final thought
that had flit into her mind just before she passed out was that the following
day was just theirs. No family engagements, no urgent evil to attend to. More than
that she had explicitly said no one should contact them unless it was an
absolute emergency.
This is my second contribution to @cscocktoberfest. This story was written back in March after @hollyethecurious encouraged my musings. In honor of Cocktoberfest, I am re-posting it, along with some new (NSFW) art. The art is below the cut, but here’s a little teaser and excerpt to give you an idea of the theme.
Thanks to @wingedlioness for helping me refine the picset
“I need you to make me come so hard that I forget about the mess that is my life for tonight. Last time you did that, you used your mouth in so many amazing ways. I get wet just thinking about how it felt to have you fuck me with your tongue.” A growl rumbled from deep within Kilian’s chest and his eyes darkened to a midnight hue. “I’m not taking any chances with my ability to protect the ones I love, so you’d better not put those lips on me tonight. You need to find other ways to make me come. Understand?”
Oral Fixation
Rating: E
Words: ~2300
Summary: Emma can’t stop thinking about Killian’s mouth, but what happens when she tries to act on those urges while his lips are cursed?
A/N: Hello everyone!! First off, I want to thank @initiala for creating and organizing the amazing event that is @cscocktoberfest – it’s been wonderful seeing all of the incredible (and naughty) fics that have been posted so far, and I can’t wait to see what else is in store over the rest of the month. I also want to apologize for being slightly tardy – this fic should have posted yesterday, but I wasn’t quite able to finish editing it in time. I’m also a bit nervous about it, as it’s the first time I’ve written full-on, descriptive smut – I’m usually more of a “fade to black and leave it to the readers’ imagination” kind of writer. So this was a new adventure for me!! It’s unbeta’d, so I hope there aren’t too many mistakes that escaped my sleepy brain last night or this morning, but apologies in advance for any typos you may find. Hope you all enjoy!!
Rating: M (for oral, pretty much right off the bat)
Word Count: 5,293
Emma Swan was no stranger to sex.
Though she’d never really made an exhaustive list of her past encounters, she realized now that she’d actually had rather a lot of it up to this point in her life.
Not that that was anything she was ashamed of – she was single, she was healthy, and she was just a few months shy of thirty two. Up until three years ago, when she’d caved to her brother and sister-in-law’s often repeated hints about wanting to see her more often and moved to the sleepy coastal Maine town she currently called home, she’d spent slightly more than a decade in Boston – in college, then the police academy, then as a proud member of the BPD.
When she hadn’t been upholding the law in Boston, she’d enjoyed letting off steam just as much as the next young, single, attractive (if she did say so herself) woman. Her dating history was sprinkled with a handful of what she’d call “serious” relationships, but considering that she’d held a job that was incredibly demanding – both physically and emotionally – she didn’t think it was surprising that she’d pretty much perfected her one night stand technique.
Summary: My take on what happens the night Henry is at Avery’s in “New York City Serenade.”
Notes: My first time writing smut! Thanks to my beta @shireness-says, who has been an amazing cheerleader and who helped me beat this fic into shape. Thanks also to @cocktoberfest for giving me the opportunity to a) write smut b) post anonymously. Hope you’ll enjoy!
The tumblers of rum landed with a faint click on the coffee table as Emma set them down, wondering whether she should get coasters (though when she had become a person who not only owned coasters, but used them, she had no idea. A curse indeed).
Hook was finishing up in the bathroom after she had invited him to stay for the night. He’d have to leave before Henry’s return the next morning, but the least she could do was offer him a place to wash off the grime from the jail she had sent him to and a warm bed for the night. Or, well, a warm couch, she amended in her mind.
The door of the bathroom opened, letting out a waft of warm scented air. Emma turned around, expecting to see the pirate in the sweatpants and henley she had lent him. She froze, however, when she caught sight of Hook; while she had prepared herself for the sight of him in modern clothes, this was… something else. While he was wearing the sweatpants, he had put his pirate shirt back on; with his vest always on, she had never noticed in Neverland how sheer it actually was, and how deeply the neckline cut.
Well, she was certainly noticing it now. And she was also noticing how strangely adorable he looked, with his bare feet and leather garments clutched in his arms. Without all his leather, she could see how slender he was. Gone was Captain Hook, and in his place stood Killian Jones, shuffling awkwardly in his jammies.
Tearing her eyes from his chest with difficulty, Emma looked up at the man’s face, only to see him already watching her, an eyebrow raised and his mouth curved into a slight smirk. Ah, no, there was Hook.
Content notes: Explicit, Anal play, Toys, Public play
Killian felt his backpocket vibrate, and finished drying the plate in hand before fishing out his phone. Emma sent him a picture? She’d only just left.
It was of their closet… specifically their toy box, open, in their closet, with a notable item missing.
He grinned as his pants grew tight, and he put the phone down to adjust himself. He didn’t bother to respond, knowing that the clever little “read” notification would drive her crazy until he finally acted. He opened the Find Emma application, and watched her blip move across town, whistling as he continued putting away the dishes.
cshappybeginning 