Based on a Tumblr prompt.
Fedupwithfairytales asked: maybe something where Hook finds Emma's MP3 player and Emma walks in on him listening and enjoying the music?
Music Gets the Best of Me
"Killian, stop it. I really have to go," she barely pushes off of him, allowing him to devour her neck in open mouthed kisses, his fingers skimming under her top and around her back, pulling her into him.
She moans as he bites down on her pulse point, his hips rolling into hers, "You know I can't. I have to watch my sister while my parents plan their next attack on Elphaba." It's really quite amazing how bizarre her life has become. Living in the Enchanted Forest hadn't been high on her life choices list, but until the Wicked Witch of the West is defeated they couldn't even fathom an alternative.
"Her majesty has many a maid. They are surely versed in the care of an infant child."
She raises her eyebrows at him, warning him with a slow, "Killian." Snow had given birth amidst the last battle, alone and frightened in the dungeons of her own castle and so it's important to her that their baby daughter be taken care of by family rather than maids. "I'll be back tonight. It's just a few hours."
His lips move down the collar of her shirt, fingers parting the pearly buttons as he goes, his breath blowing out in sharp puffs against her sensitive skin. And it is so hard to leave, "You promise to return?"
They'd found themselves in every position imaginable on this ship (and in the castle too). Something about not having the modern comforts of her world had led to quite the passionate love affair. While she misses her phone and her espresso machine and hell, just being able to switch on a light with a click, she can definitely see the appeal in dealing without all the distractions.
Her fingers wrap around the back of his neck and pull him up to her, "Of course I'll be back. Or, you know, you could come up to the castle."
He chuckles into her neck, "I'm unsure your father would appreciate that. Not after last time."
They share a smile over the memory of David quite inopportunely walking around the corner of what he had assumed was a deserted hallway only to find his daughter's leg hitched around a certain pirate's hip, said pirate's lips working magic on her (thankfully) covered chest.
"Actually, yes. Maybe we'll give that some time."
She's only gone a minute, back on her horse and riding up to the castle, when he notices a small coloured oblong sitting on his bed. It's a curious little contraption. He'd seen Emma with it on multiple occasions, strange thin white cords hanging from her ears, dull sounds emanating from the little metal box.
He remembers her saying that she dreads the day it 'runs out' and deduces it must be something from her world, one of those creature comforts that they mentioned regularly. And while he wishes so much sometimes that he had been cursed with everybody else so he had the opportunity to meet Emma earlier, he also realises the difficulties everybody seems to be going through adjusting back into their old ways here in the Enchanted Forest.
With wonder, he slips the little white buds into his ears, pressing a button on the front of the little piece of machinery.
He truly hadn't meant to break it. The window of colour had gone black and he'd removed the white buds immediately from his ears for fear of making it worse. Reduced to a nervous wreck, he sneaks down the hallway outside Emma's room, grateful that her parents seem to still be in their meeting and delegation of forces. He knows she won't be in her chambers as she prefers to look after her sister outdoors in the fresh air and sunlight.
He treads lightly across the room to her bed and places the small music maker there, the white strings a tangled mess he couldn't do a thing about.
He says a silent prayer to the gods that it somehow works again when she picks it up because he hates the fact that he's broken something she seems to get great enjoyment out of. Then, with a wistful look around the room, he gets out of there before she can catch him in the act.
To say she's disappointed that her iPod has run out of battery would be a slight understatement. It had just been one of those things, one of those creature comforts from her world that she'd wanted to hold onto, a reminder of a time that was, when she had been the one on home turf.
Everything feels so foreign here, and though she has so many people around her that love her dearly, she still gets that feeling in the pit of her stomach some days that just sinks her down with loneliness. And in those moments, she had found music to be her escape, music with a poppy bass line and superficial lyrics.
She stands on the threshold of his cabin, leaning against the doorframe and watching as he meanders around the room, wasting time until she returns. She smiles, he hasn't noticed her yet and is humming a very familiar tune. In that moment she knows exactly what happened to her iPod and she hopes that he remembers all the lyrics to Britney Spears' Toxic so that he can sing it to her and become her new escape.
Sauntering in, she places her hands on his shoulders and laughs lightly when he jumps, "Let's pick up where we left off, shall we?"
He turns around in her arms, his lips turned up in a devilish smirk. "As you wish," he growls.