A birthday fic for Adrian :) Based on her smuffy prompt which included the movie Crazy Stupid Love and Emma coming to terms with the fact that she wants Killian Jones ;) Happy birthday, love! I hope you forever remain as young as you feel :)
Disclaimer: I don't own a lot of things…OUAT and Crazy Stupid Love are two of those things. I own other stuff though, like DVDs of each…what of it?
Crazy Stupid Love
It's way too cold outside, the icy snow falling in raging winds. As she pushes her way into her apartment she finds herself ridiculously grateful that there has become a way for everyone to make their way back to her world, back to Storybrooke, because she's not entirely sure the heating situation in the Enchanted Forest would allow them to cope with this blizzard.
The loft is eerily quiet when she enters. Henry is spending the night with Regina and her parents are currently in their land ensuring those who stayed behind are safe and well. It's still so strange to her that they have such royal roles, but coming to terms with that pales in comparison to the fact that magic that had come from within her has allowed transport between different realms to be possible to occur again as it once had with magic beans.
She spares a thought for Mary Margaret and David, hoping they're safe and that any conflict with the Wicked Witch of the West plays out in the calmest possible way. Things have generally settled down all over to the point that she can wish her parents farewell through the portal without tears. But it doesn't stop the small tug of fear every now and then.
Her boots come off as she flicks the heating switch, immediate warmth flooding the apartment from the vents in the floor. Granny has fixed her some lasagne and all she can envision right now is sitting on the couch, watching a blissful rom-com and eating something of substance for the first time all day.
She's only just comfortable, Julianne Moore's character is prattling on to Steve Carell about how she slept with someone else and she's just about to take the first bite of lasagne when she hears the knock at her door. Her eyes close as she sighs out a deep breath and climbs off the couch, opening the door, a cold draft immediately hitting her. The second thing she notices is Killian Jones looking at her like a lost puppy with an utterly apologetic expression all over his face, "Swan."
Her heart nearly stops, because this is all too familiar. Him at her door, the way he's looking at her like she's his last breath. They haven't really had a chance to talk about all that had happened in New York, the kisses, the touches, the looks. They had become a perfect team, working together with Henry to bring them back together with their loved ones. But since then it has been strike after strike with the Western armies, their winged monkeys coming down hard in the Enchanted Forest – they'd barely had a chance to see each other, let alone talk about what the hell is going on between them.
"What are you doing?" She doesn't mean it the way it comes out, but it's cold and she just wants to sit down.
He holds up a blanket that he'd been holding at his side, "I was hoping for lodgings for the evening. Granny's is full of Lost Boys and my ship, well she's not as solid as she once was and that wind is quite cutting."
She tries not to frown. What even is her life? Pirate captains asking for a bed on her doorstep, her parents in another realm checking on dwarves and fairies to ensure their safety, the portal to that other realm being held open by her own particular brand of magic – it just hits her every now and then how crazy it all is. And because the twists and turns are getting less and less surprising, she figures she can throw in a few of her own. If her plot twist happens to be an incredibly attractive pirate, then so be it.
She moves aside, allowing him entrance, "I'm going to tell you this once and once only, Killian Jones. It's called a movie, the people in the box cannot jump out at you and yes, this is how people of my realm spend their time." She saunters back to the couch, knowing he'll close the door and follow her. The movie picks up where she left it and she finally has that first bite of lasagne, nearly moaning with the taste explosion going on in her mouth.
Killian takes a seat next to her, leaving a respectable distance between them, but shaking out the blanket and placing it over both their legs. "Thank you," he says softly before turning his attention to the screen.
It's just past the halfway point in the movie and Emma has to admit that she thought it would have been sooner that he'd start to get restless, so she's not at all surprised when he pipes up with his first words in over an hour. "Well that is an overly elaborate drink just to get the woman to sleep with you."
To her amusement, the comment is directed completely at the TV screen, no understanding of the working of the 'magic box' having made itself known to him. She watches as he grumbles about how a simple flask of rum is more than enough and finds herself unable to look away. His eyes are lit up and so brilliantly blue in this light, his lips look too kissable. She'd be lying to herself if she couldn't admit that she's thought about acting on the stirrings of feelings going on in her heart. There had been times in New York when she couldn't remember him that she had unexplainably found herself wanting to wrap her arms around him, or wanting to lay him out on her bed and thoroughly fuck him. But something held her back, something always telling her that he was important, that he was more than a one night stand that she could forget.
There had been kisses. Stolen moments after she had regained her memories. Her tear filled eyes had sought out his and she'd held his face with both her hands as she leaned in, meeting him halfway and whispering his name before their lips had connected. It had been hot and hard and slow and long and everything in between. But since then, she had become the saviour again and left all notions of her own happiness behind.
His frown makes her smile as Ryan Gosling tries to explain his big move to Emma Stone on the screen. The pop culture references must really confuse him because he turns to her just as she goes to lean into him to explain. She gasps at the proximity, his lips just touching hers, their noses bumping. Her eyes close nearly immediately out of habit and she swallows, pulling away. She hears him sort of grunt and opens her eyes to find him staring straight through her with those bright eyes.
She knows he can see her reluctance to hesitate, knows that if he were to make the move right now, she would follow and fall into him. But he also knows that it has to be her. She has to make the big move.
The first chords of "I've had the Time of my Life" start to play in the movie and Emma makes a choice then and there. Tonight is not about being a saviour – her son is safe, her family is safe and she is safe – tonight is about them.
She swings a leg over his hips and settles onto his lap, resting her forehead against his. "I'm sure," she whispers, answering his unasked question.
He smiles at that, bringing his hand up to the back of her neck and pulling her down to his lips, moaning when they connect and never wanting to pull away again.
The scene ends behind them, taking with it their mood music, so Emma fumbles around for the remote and switches the whole thing off before throwing the control blindly in the direction of the coffee table. With nothing but the sounds of the howling winds outside to accompany them, it actually sinks in that she's making out with Captain Hook on her couch. The thought causes a smile to pass over her lips and allows Killian entrance, his tongue flicking over her bottom lip in a cheeky manner.
Her hips drive down on his, feeling his arousal rather prominently through the thin material of her leggings. He responds in turn, bucking up to meet her slow grinding actions. "Emma," he growls, his fingers drawing down her back and digging into her thigh, pushing her harder down on him, "Too many clothes."
She nods in agreement, pulling back slightly to yank her sweater over her head. His eyes go straight to her uncovered breasts and she smirks at that, arching her back just slightly. He takes the invitation easily, greedily lapping at one nipple while his fingers toy with the other. It's now that they're both glad he's still wearing his fake hand instead of his hook because he can use that to resume holding her down on him, pressing her body solidly into his.
The clasps of his vest are surprisingly easy to undo and she soon has his shirt off too, leaning into him to feel their bare chests together, the course hair on his tickling the sensitive skin on hers. His lips rest in the crook of her neck, peppering her in open-mouthed kisses.
As much as they both want this to be amazing and slow and for everything to be perfectly fairy tale for their first time together, they both know better and the fires that have been long stoked inside of them need to ignite.
The blanket falls from them when she stands up, ripping off her leggings and panties in one move, not caring about being exposed in front of him. He's already seen her naked as far as she's concerned, he's seen her desperate and broken, crying into his shoulder because she knows him but doesn't know him. No, he's seen her naked and bare from the first time he laid eyes on her, tonight he's just getting to see her undressed. His eyes darken with desire and she climbs back on top of him, her hands reaching for the ties and knots on his pants. He lifts his hips long enough for her to slide them just to his knees. His boots are still on, but as he'd lifted up, the hard heat of his cock had brushed ever so lightly against her wet folds and she's finding herself unable to hold it together much longer.
His hand returns to her thigh, fingers digging in, but thumb reaching out to rub against her clit making her moan, her head tipping back. "Killian," she says, her voice needy and wanton, "I need…I need-"
He cuts her off, guiding his length to her entrance, letting it sit there for a moment, allowing the heat to flow through them both at the intimacy of the touch. Then he slides in, just an inch, just an inch more, the stretch burning at first, but welcomed a second later. She takes initiative after a moment and lets her body sink the rest of the way down onto him with a whimper. "Fuck," she whispers, "That's exactly what I needed."
The grin on his face makes her smile in turn and she has one of those moments again. Sitting on Captain Hook, in her living room, on her couch. So surreal.
And then his cock twitches inside of her and all she wants in life is movement. Sweet, delicious movement.
He presses his hips into the soft couch, his length drawing out of her a few inches before he bucks and slams home again. Their eyes meet as he repeats the motion, fireworks crackling between them. "Faster" she requests, lifting her own hips in time with his movements and connecting back with him stroke for stroke.
Her fingers squeeze his shoulders as she rides him, her breasts bobbing up and down, tantalisingly tempting for the pirate. And it doesn't take long for him to take hold of a nipple between his talented lips. The sensations flowing through her build rapidly from then and she can feel him swelling within her, their bodies crying out for the release they've been waiting for since the day they first laid eyes on each other.
His thumb reaches back between them, brushing circles across her clit, his mouth disconnecting with her breast for just long enough that he can look up and see her eyes clouding over in pleasure. And a moment later she gasps, her head falling forward and capturing his lips in a kiss that swallows her cries. Her tightening inner muscles feel so damn good around him and he tries to hold on long enough to let her come down and build her up again, but he reminds himself that there will be so much time for that later and a few frantic thrusts later he's spilling into her, a groan on his lips as he buries his head in her neck and bites down.
For a while, all that can be heard is the electric hum of the fridge in the next room and their heavy breathing. And then she laughs.
"A man could take offence to such a thing, lass," he says, only partly serious.
She shakes her head as her hands come up to cup either side of his face, "Killian Jones, you're making me feel things I haven't felt in a long time."
His thumb flicks over her clit again and her eyes flutter at the sensation, "And that's a laughing matter?"
He's teasing her and she knows it, but she wants to play his game, wants to see where it goes. "It just feels good," she says, licking her lips, "It feels so damn good."
She's unsurprised when he touches her again, but it still sends shudders through her, her inner muscles reacting and a ball of heat beginning to pool in her lower belly again.
He smirks at her, nipping at the skin of her shoulder. "I'm so in love with you," he says, "Crazy, stupid love."
And she'll explain to him later why it's so funny he should say that. Right now though, she's got to show him how much she returns the same sentiment.
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