#cs oneshots

When the first wisps of consciousness began to return to her, Emma savored the pleasant dull ache of her muscles and sighed contentedly. It had been a long time since she'd awoken feeling quite so rested, and the dreams she'd had were still dancing like memories behind her closed eyes. They'd seemed so vivid…

Her eyes snapped open as she heard a soft sigh behind her.

Killian.

Her heart tripped and she turned, wide-eyed, to see him lying on his side facing her, his eyes still closed and his breathing steady and even. The memories from the night before washed over her in waves and she waited for the rush of panic to set in, the instinct to run.

It never came.

Instead, she only wanted to fold herself back comfortably into his arms and enjoy the feeling of closeness without the usual accompaniment of fear. She remained on her side of the bed though, and simply watched the soft rise and fall of his chest, smiling as she remembered running her fingers through his unruly, silky hair, causing it to stick up in various directions. The wildness of his hair coupled with the softness of his face in sleep made him look so much younger than she'd ever seen before.

She wasn't used to this. The whole basking thing. Before him, it had pretty much always been one-night, hard-and-fast, gone-before-morning kinda deals (and she was pointedly choosing to forget Walsh had ever existed). She'd certainly never woken up first and simply watched her lover sleep before.

'That's because you were never in love with those guys.'

She thought to herself and immediately the realization slammed into her like a truck. She was in love with him. She was in love with Killian Jones. Swallowing hard, the old familiar panic began to stir in her stomach, but she refused to let it overpower her. No. She wanted this. She was done with running. He'd proven himself to her so many times and she was determined that her days of running from love were over.

He'd gone to the end of the world, and time, for her on more than one occasion. He'd given up the Jolly Roger, his home, for her because he'd realized after losing her that a home could be a person, and not just a place. She was his home, he'd told her quietly, while they were wrapped up in each other and the darkness the night before.

After the altercation with Regina, Henry had asked quietly if he could stay with his other mom that night and Emma had agreed, ignoring the dull ache in her chest. She'd then returned to her room at Granny's, leaving Killian and her family at the diner. When he'd softly tapped on her door a little while later and found her guilt-ridden and crying, he'd wrapped her in his arms without a second thought, just the way he had when they'd watched Snow burning at the stake.

Slowly, she had deepened his comforting kisses, desire and need fuelling them both as fingers trailed across heated skin and clothes were discarded. He'd touched her as though she was fine porcelain, the wonder and love in his eyes burning her up from the inside out. Every press of his lips or brush of his fingers had only served to heighten her desire for him and her soft moans and whimpers had sounded obscenely loud in the silent room.

When he'd moved to detach the brace holding his hook, she'd stopped him and smiled shyly. The white-hot heat that had flashed in his eyes when he'd gazed down at her small hand delicately curled around the curved metal had sent a surge of desire straight to her core. It was the ultimate acceptance, and they both knew it. He'd teased her lightly about her kinky preference, but the love and warmth radiating from him gave away how much that small gesture had meant to him.

He'd insisted on going slowly, memorizing and savoring every curve of her, his fingers and mouth leaving no part of her unaffected. She'd been on the verge of begging, his name falling from her lips on a pained whimper, by the time he'd kissed her deeply and pushed inside.

They'd both gasped against each other's lips and he'd stilled, allowing her to adjust and catch her breath. Her eyes were wide, pupils blown, and she'd wrapped her long legs around his waist, rocking up against him and encouraging him silently to move. He'd complied instantly, his eyes squeezing shut and quiet groans of pleasure rumbling at the back of his throat.

They'd made love slowly and thoroughly, soft kisses and caresses slowing down time for both of them. And when he'd collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving, she knew the words he longed to give to her were dancing on his lips, burning his tongue. But he'd kept them to himself and instead just his warm breath had puffed out against the heated skin of her neck. She wasn't sure whether it was relief or disappointment that had bloomed in her chest, but she'd kept her arms around him and let a long sigh pass her own lips.

She had never been one to fall asleep in her lover's arms, much preferring her own space to having someone wrapped around her, but somehow having his arm gently thrown over her waist and feeling the warm firmness of him pressed against her back had lulled her into a deep and peaceful sleep.

And now, in the warm stillness of the morning, with just a thin sheet covering her, Emma had never felt this at ease being so vulnerable next to another person.

"See something you like, love?"

Killian murmured, his eyes still closed, and Emma gave a start. She didn't know how long he'd been awake and she could feel a flush travelling up her neck and burning her cheeks, embarrassed at being caught openly ogling him.

"I do," she admitted shyly, voice hoarse with sleep, "but it's bad form to pretend to be sleeping when you could be kissing me."

His eyes opened instantly, blue meeting green, and a wolfish grin lifted his lips. He reached his good arm over and pulled her close to him, pressing her back firmly against his chest. He began to pepper kisses across her shoulder and up her neck, nuzzling the place behind her ear that he'd discovered was particularly sensitive when he'd explored every inch of her body the night before.

The waves of pleasure that had washed over her then were once again beginning to swirl low in Emma's belly and she ground back against him. He groaned softly against her ear, which only served to send electric shocks of arousal right through her.

"It's been a long time since I've had morning sex."

She said on a sigh, her hips moving ever so slightly to press her ass firmly against him and she could instantly feel the evidence of exactly what she was doing to him pressed against her thighs. His good hand gripped her hip almost hard enough to bruise, fingers pressing into the jut of her hipbone before sliding around to give her friction exactly where she needed it and causing her to gasp audibly at the sudden, delicious pressure.

He hummed contentedly into her hair and gently tugged on her earlobe with his teeth, sending yet another ripple of lust through her. She involuntarily rolled her hips to press his fingers harder against her and whined when he suddenly removed his hand. But she didn't have time to protest, because suddenly she was being scooped into his arms, turned around and pulled onto his lap, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and his arms encircling her.

He kissed her chastely, his good arm moving from her waist so his hand could push golden curls away from her face. He brushed his thumb over the dimple in her chin, much the way he had done outside the diner the night before, before sliding his hand around the back of her neck and deepening their kiss.

When she pulled back to look into his eyes, she smiled and wondered why on earth she'd tried to keep this man at arm's length for so long. Because as scared as she had been – and part of her still was – that'd he hurt her and leave her just like everyone else had, he was more than worth the risk. Love was never going to be safe, but here, with him, she was starting to realize that maybe that was okay.

Maybe she had a long way to go before the walls she kept around her heart would fall down completely. Sex was one thing, but venturing into a relationship with him was a whole other thing. And she was ready for it. Slowly but surely he'd been taking down the bricks of her heart's fortress one by one, without her even realizing it. Letting him in would be a learning curve for her, but she was willing to work on it. She'd always thought that locking her heart away was the answer, and even though it would never beat at least it wouldn't break. But he'd slowly made her realize that perhaps she'd been wrong.