This is an extract from a fic I wrote a long time ago, this is for Diana, and because in times like this one, we could all use some priest Killian. Forgive me father, because I have sinned, this is a smutty one with priest Killian under the rain. Thanks to Montana for betaing faster than lightening.

Smut, Priest!Killian, during the curse.

Summary: Killian walks on Graham and Emma kissing and he gets extremely jealous, happens what happens.


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"You have no right to be mad at me! You hear me, Jones?! No right!" Emma yelled at him, not caring a second for the rain pouring; her hair was a mess and God knew how much she didn't care.

Oh yes God knew so fucking well about this crazy situation.

"What's your fucking problem, father Jones?" Emma said the words like they were poison on her tongue, and she didn't care for a second if he was hurt or if she was using his title even after he had told her over and over again to call him by his name.

Graham had just kissed her, and Killian had happened to pass by them, Emma still pushing away the sheriff, before turning on her heel to see Killian walking away from her.

How dare he?

And how lucky she was, the rain had starting to pour. "Stop running away from me!" Grabbing his arm she forced him to look back, the look on his face leaving her breathless.

Was he jealous?

"Listen, Swan, it's not my problem, I ran into an intimate moment, I'm sorry, now if you please, I'd love a hot shower."

"What is your problem?" She repeated, not letting him go, her hand still closed on his bicep.

"You do whatever you want Emma, didn't I tell you about our sheriff when we met? Well, looks like you clearly didn't miss that part."

She saw red.

"Are you jealous, father Jones?" Refusing to use his name, Emma wanted him to realize the stupidity of this situation.

He was a priest.

"Don't be silly, Emma."

And yet, he didn't look at her.

"Look at me."

Killian shook his head, refusing to meet her gaze. It was too much for her; she was tired, Graham had tried to kiss her for no reason, the ghost of his lips still wandering over hers, and she didn't know how she felt about that kiss.

And even less about Killian's reaction. It made no sense, no matter how many times she had tried to understand what was happening between them, he had tried to kiss her and he had pushed her away since then.

Since that day, Killian had given her the cold shoulder, and she hated him for that, for leaving her when she had started to think she might have found… a friend, someone who believed in her, and cared maybe a little for her.

And Emma had fought very hard whatever was happening, she had tried to remind herself nothing could ever happen.

And since then he had just been avoiding her, Emma had tried to talk to him, to understand what had happened to him. Killian was the one who tried to kiss her not the other way around.

"Whatever."

She was wet and chilled to the bones, and there was no way she would cry in front of him, even if it was raining.

"Emma…" He called after her, but Emma didn't care, she was done with him, with his yes/no attitude because he had no right to do that.

Drop of rain sliding down her neck, Emma wrapped her arms around herself, her teeth shaking; since when the wind blew so hard in this town?

Too focused on not letting her tears fall, Emma didn't hear him run after her, and when she felt his arms, Emma jerked away from his touch like it had burned her.

"Don't touch me! I'm so done with you!"

His gaze, his blue eyes fixed on her seeing through her bravado, confusion and questions in them; if his touch had burned her earlier, his stare was even worse.

She silently cursed him for making her anger disappear, way too lost in the blueness of his eyes.

And then his lips was on hers, passionate, angry and hungry, their teeth clenched, her arms closed around his neck, pulling him closer; she had had too many dreams of those lips, but nothing could compare withthis.

Killian pulled her into a strong embrace, licking the drops falling down her face, before returning to her mouth, before sucking her bottom lip between his teeth and making Emma feel like she would die if he ever stopped. Her tongue met his and she wanted to moan and cry at the same time, because he tasted like heaven and God knew they were both going to Hell.

Emma didn't care.

Emma wasn't cold anymore, not even when he backed her against the wet brick wall of a house. His warm body pressed against hers made her shiver, and it was definitely not because of the rain.

"Killian", she breathed, trying to put some order into her thoughts, but Killian didn't let her talk or draw a breath, pulling her into another kiss, his lips insistent on his, his hands going under her shirt and not allowing Emma to ever get cold again. She tangled her fingers in his wet hair, pushing away the strands falling into his eyes and Killian left her mouth for her jaw-line, following the drop of water running down her neck with his tongue. Nothing had ever felt like this, the ghost of Graham's lips gone and forgotten.

"Emma", Killian whispered against her mouth, his forehead pressed against hers, still pinning her between the wall and him. He couldn't give a damn about the rain, or the fact that they were in the middle of a street, and anyone could at anytime run into them. She was here, in his arms, and she smelled like vanilla, cinnamon and sins, and he couldn't let go.

Without really realizing what she's doing, Emma hooked her leg around his hip, inviting him to pull her closer against him; she needed to feel him, all of him, and she had dreamed too many times of this, of them being this close to let go. Reality felt so much better and righter, and when Emma caught his eyes, her knees weakened; his eyelashes were long and wet and his eyes were bluer than ever. She gasped, kissing him once again before reality caught up with them, before the reasons why they shouldn't came back to their minds.

Her hands traveled up and down his chest, her lips quirking into a smile when she felt him trembling at her touch, his black shirt wet and sticking to his skin. She wanted him now, under the rain because as long as he was here kissing her the rest of the world could disappear and fade away and she couldn't care less. A nervous laugh escaped her lips when she felt him nip the skin of her neck, her nails scratching the muscles of his back.

Running her hands over his biceps and over the back of his neck she gave a sharp tug on his hair and pulled him back to her, needing to kiss him, again and again because if she had to wake up tomorrow like nothing had ever happened she would have these memories, and what perfect memories they would make; he felt right and too damn good.

"Emma, Emma, Emma", he chanted, remembering the main reason why he shouldn't be doing this; he had promised he wouldn't come near her, but here he was, kissing her like he had wanted to for too long, his fingers playing with the button of her jeans. Thoughts a soon to be priest shouldn't have invading his mind. Killian should go, he should back off, as painful as it would be, he should leave her and ask God for forgiveness.

"Don't", she begged, and Killian didn't know if it was tears or simple drops of rain on her cheeks, but he kissed them away anyway, the tender gesture making her shiver and tremble; looking at her, his stare probably dark with desire, Killian licked her lips, loving the way they answered to his, how they felt so right, how Emma felt right in his arms. When everything in him told him to walk away once again, to leave her there, Killian fought reason and common sense, his hand curling around her neck, his tongue tangling with hers and making her moan.

"No-not here", he managed to say between two kisses.

"I don't care", Emma silenced him by letting her hand go under his shirt, finally feeling him, her fingers exploring his stomach as she licked her lips in a sensual way tailor-made to drive him crazy. Killian growled, his fingers working on her pants, but Emma took him by surprise and changed their positions so it was him against the wall; she was about to work on the buttons of his shirt when her eyes caught the clerical collar, making her step away from him, bringing common sense and reasons against this back to her. They couldn't do this, they couldn't cross that line, their friendship, or whatever word worked to qualify what was between them, would be over.

"Emma, look at me", Killian breathed, trying to focus her attention back on him, not to the white collar around his neck. When she finally lifted her gaze, his fingers gave a sharp tug on the collar, and he put it in his pocket before leaning in for a kiss, wrapping her in his arms, slamming her back against the wall to make sure she wouldn't go away. Not now, not ever.

Killian pulled down the zipper of her jeans as Emma, giving up the fight, ripped off the buttons on his shirt in her haste to get it opened; she could see most of his chest now, and he was strong, the water rolling down his skin only making her want him more. Quickly her top went off, and although damned they should be, she wanted to feel him, skin against skin, his body against hers.

"Your pants", she gasped, but not letting him undo them on his own, Emma sneaked a hand under his underwear, teasing him gently before grabbing him firmly which made him moan and press her harder against the wall, his hand cupping her breast through her bra. He wanted her bare in front of him but they were running out of time, and she was too tempting to resist any longer. Killian promised himself that this wasn't the first and last time; he would take him time later.

Sealing her lips in a fierce kiss, Killian pressed her hard against him, lifting her up, the coolness of the wall making her shiver violently, but his warm body against hers made her forget everything else but him. Her legs pulled him closer, the contact making them gasp, the rain still pouring like hell over them, but at the same time, it made the moment feel like a dream, one of those they both didn't want to wake up from.

"Killian, please", she asked against his mouth, not able to take more, the rain falling from his body to hers making her crazy, the contrast between the coolness of the night and the hotness of his mouth and body against her skin driving her insane. Instead of following her demand, Killian smirked, brushing his scruff against the soft skin of her chin while his fingers ran between her tights, teasingly at first, and then more insistent, making Emma arch against him, holding onto his shoulders so tightly she left red marks on his skin. "God", she moaned before Killian muted her cry with his lips, still moving inside her.

"Just you and me", he corrected, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth. "No God", he said and pulled away from her. "Just you and me, Emma."

And with those last words, he took her in one sharp trust, literally taking her by surprise.

Her grip around his waist tightened, pulling him deeper, closer, needing more as she kissed him in a rush.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop", she begged in his arms, the tension in her whole body too much. Killian kept a fast pace, taking her, giving her everything, all the tension between them reaching its highest point because after all those weeks, they were finally together, and if they had to be damned for it, they would, at least, make this night unforgettable.

Nothing could ever feel righter and better than her in his arms, nothing had felt righter than making love to her. No prayers, no holy book could ever replace this feeling; the hole in his chest was gone, and Killian felt free, he felt whole, sparks dancing behind his lids, flashes and images of the sea, of the ocean and of other lives passing in front of him and the realization hit him hard.

There was no coming back to from this, from them.

He was madly in love with her.

He stilled his hips and Emma groaned against his neck, biting his shoulder, frustrated that he stopped.

"Look at me", he gasped, his fingers traveling along the curve of her breast. "Look at me."

Resting her head against the wall for a moment, panting and shaking, Emma finally looked at him, letting herself get lost in his eyes.

"Please", she whispered, her hands gripping his biceps as her hips rocked against his, desperate to make him move. Lifting her even higher above him, Killian started thrusting into her again, faster, deeper, his mouth leaving wet kisses along the curve of her neck, her fingers playing in his hair and making him loose his mind. His chest hurt, not from pain but from her, from the realization of everything she was, and what she meant for him.

He could never leave her on her own or walk away from her again after this.

Her name fell off his lips like a prayer, the one he had spent so long looking for in his Bible, the one who could free him from his loneliness and his torments.

And he had finally found his redemption in her arms, in her name.

He rocked his hips faster, his teeth giving a gentle tug to her earlobe as Emma's nails scratched the skin of his back. The rain felt deliciously perfect at that moment, and they felt alone in the world, moving together as one, their bodies dancing a dance they had both forgotten, one they had both never tasted before.

There was no coming back.

Killian groaned in the crook of her neck, his whole body tensing; she was so warm and she felt too perfect against him, too perfect for him not to be damned, but Emma felt she belonged here in his arms, like she had always been meant to be here. She cried out, her legs pulling him deeper into her, whispering his name in his ear, and they reached their peak faster than they thought they would, Emma melting in his arms as he kept thrusting into her, making her moan louder than earlier. Suddenly remembering where they were, Killian silenced her with his mouth, sucking her tongue into his, and making her groan. Slowly he stilled his hips, holding her tightly against his torso, Emma feeling boneless in his arms, Killian wasn't sure how long he could support her pinning her against the wall like this, afraid that his weight was crushing her.

When Emma finally came back to reality, her mouth was dry, and her body felt spent. Hesitantly she opened her eyes, looking for his, needing to know he didn't regret it either. She was afraid he would leave her high and dry; she would fall for sure, and not only because she wasn't able to stand up, but because she didn't know how to be without him now.

And when she saw him pull away from her, Emma felt her heart break; he was regretting it, she couldn't find his blue eyes because he wasn't looking at her. Her legs fell from his hips, her feet meeting the ground, a cry about to escape from her mouth, but she caught it in time, biting down her lip so hard she tasted blood on her tongue.

She swallowed her cry, watching him pick up her top, and pulling her jeans back on. The gesture could have been tender and sweet if it didn't taste bitter, if Emma hadn't wanted to scream, to run away, feeling suddenly really naked in front of him. Her top was a mess and Emma couldn't wear it now, so she stood leaning against the wall, letting the coldness of it all surrounding her, hoping it would freeze her pain.

His soft laugh surprised her but not for long, because Killian grabbed her wrist and pulled her against her, giving her a long kiss, his thumb brushing away the tears at the corners of her eyes. Again, Emma felt weak in the knees; no one had ever kissed her this way, he meant to devour her, to hold her and give her something she was afraid to name. Killian finally broke their kiss, his blue eyes leaving her breathless; she saw so much in them, and she wanted to say so much but the words couldn't pass the line of her swollen lips. As the perfect gentleman he was, he wrapped her in his shirt, and pushed away a lock of hair behind her ear, his thumb travelling down her cheek, her chin, before brushing over her lips.

"Come", he told her, whispering in her ear, his hand finding hers, their fingers lacing together, holding tightly.

And as they walked together, their hands joined together, Emma didn't ever feel the weight of the white collar in the pocket of his shirt, and she couldn't remember being this light for a long time. She had no idea where they were going, Killian only studying her from the corner of his eye, a smile on his lips, but Emma couldn't care less. He was walking her home, somewhere. And home was right there, in his arms.

Killian walked her home, to his apartment, not far away from the church. Emma was glad he didn't walk her to Mary Margaret's because the night was far from over, and she wanted to be with him as long as possible.

Once the sun rose, they would go their separate ways, but Emma ignored that thought and stored it at the back of her mind, focusing on the scent of his shirt; it was wet just like the rest of their clothes but for nothing in the world Emma would have taken it off because it smelled like him, and wrapped in it, she felt safe.

But not safer than when she was in his arms.