A/N: so this got kinda out of hand and is a New Year's Eve fic. Almost 6,000 words, so have fun!

She stared out of the bar's window at the intense snowfall, where she was waiting patiently for her parents to arrive. She tugged the long sleeves of her soft cashmere sweater and crossed her arms on the table, snickering at how some dude almost slipped onto his ass on the ice on the sidewalk. Emma looked up at the clock on the wall, just beside the flat screen (playing Sports Center, of course) and saw that it was a quarter to two. Her parents should be there any minute now, knowing how punctual her mother was.

She was in the midst of watching some of the best sport moments of the year on the television, with it being New Year's Eve and all, when the door chimed as it opened and Emma saw her snow-covered parents waltz in. Emma raised her hand and waved urgently, her mother catching sight of her hand around the crowds of people eating lunch at the bar.

"There you are!" Emma's mother said as she hurried over to the table, unwrapping the emerald green, knitted scarf from around her neck (the very same one Emma had given to her for this past Christmas). "Parking was a nightmare."

"People are idiots when it's snowing," Emma's father grumbled as he walked over behind her mother, pulling off his gloves.

"It's a college town, Dad. It's like that all of the time," Emma replied as she stood from her chair, placing a kiss to her mother and father's cheeks. "Thought you would've been used to it by now."

Her father sat in the chair across from Emma, just beside the window, as her mother took the seat by the aisle. "Still freaking awful."

Her mother sighed and folded her hands together on the table, scooting in as her eyes lit up (and Lord, Emma did not like that look).

"What is it?" Emma asked immediately, just as her mother was opening her mouth to say whatever it was.

"What do you mean?" Mary Margaret Nolan replied, furrowing her perfectly trimmed eyebrows.

Emma pursed her lips. "You have that look on your face like you wanna say something about someone from back home. So say it."

Mary Margaret opened her mouth to respond, but David Nolan beat her to it. "Aurora is engaged."

Emma raised her eyebrows. "Well, that's not entirely surprising, Dad."

"To Mulan," Mary Margaret finished and there…well, wow.

"What happened to Philip?" Emma asked, remembering that Aurora and Philip dated for years.

"Broke up about six months ago," David responded, snagging a peanut from the bowl on the table. "Amicably, of course. And then Mulan swept her off her feet about a month later."

"Why didn't anybody tell me about this?" Emma asked, her brain about to freaking explode.

"That's what happens when you go to a college three hours from your hometown, honey," Mary Margaret commented offhandedly, twirling her straw around the water glass in front of her a nameless waitress had dropped off earlier.

Emma rolled her eyes because her mother always snuck that little nugget in, no matter the conversation. "Thanks, Mom. It's not like you haven't said that before. It's my final year, so just stop."

Emma's mother held up her hands in defense. "I'm just saying."

"And you've been saying that for the past four years. So stop," Emma repeated, reclining in her chair as she stared out the window again.

She sincerely loved her mother, but God, that woman was about as subtle as a brick to the face. Which was exactly where Emma got that from. And nearly every time they talked since Emma began going to Boston University her freshman year, her mother would drop that exact same crap that she was pulling right now. And Emma was done, especially since it was New Year's Eve of her final year in college.

"So, any boys?" Her mother asked.

"Mom!" Emma whined at the same time that David said "Mary Margaret!"

Emma dropped her head into her hands, raking her fingers through her long hair because she was not talking about boys with her parents. Especially since the last one they know of shattered her entire being and she was not about to discuss her endless string of one-night-stands-

"Could I get you all something to drink?" The waiter asked with a strong British accent, but Emma didn't look up because God her mother can be so embarrassing.

"Guinness. Please," Emma responded immediately, staring at the wooden table.

"Emma, it's two in the afternoon," Mary Margaret spoke up in a somewhat judgmental tone.

"Don't care. Just want a Guinness."

"Rough day?" The waiter asked.

And Emma then took the time to look at the waiter, to tell him that it was really none of his business. But once she saw him…holy damn. Emma's jaw dropped slightly, but she picked it back up before she made herself look like an idiot as she stared at the sex-on-legs that was her waiter. Windswept black hair and piercing deep blue eyes that could rival the depths of the ocean.

Holy shit he's hot.

"You have no idea," Emma said, a little more breathlessly than she really wanted to sound like.

The waiter smiled softly at her, then turned his attention to her mother and father. "And what would you like to drink?"

"Iced tea please," Mary Margaret replied simply, not oblivious to the way Emma had looked at the waiter.

"And just water for me," David added, flipping open the menu to look for what he would like to eat. "And let's get some of those fried mushrooms for an appetizer."

The waiter nodded with a smile. "I'll be right back."

He walked away and Emma did not stare at his ass in those tight blue jeans of his as he walked off. Emma was brought back to the table by her mother clearing her throat. Emma looked at her and recognized the look on her face.

"Stop," Emma said simply.

Mary Margaret held up her hands in defense. "I didn't say anything."

"But I know that look and stop," Emma repeated.

"Your mother just worries, Emma," David spoke up, folding his hands together on the table.

"Well, just stop it. I'm fine," Emma replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't need a guy to be happy. You know that perfectly well. So, let's change the subject."

"Did you see that bowl game last night?" David asked, a smile spreading on his face.

Emma nodded, smiling in response. "That was a freaking blood bath."

The bar picked up business soon after Emma's parents had arrived. There was loud cheering for the bowl games and hurried waiters rushing to their tables. Emma hadn't been able to see the gorgeous waiter except for a few passing moments when he was dropping of their drinks and food. She didn't mind how his gaze lingered whenever he dropped by (she should've minded, because Emma didn't do relationships) or how he flashed that perfect smile whenever he met her stare from across the room.

She didn't even know his name but Emma was just hypnotized by him.

"Planning on doing anything tonight?" Her father asked her as he wiped off his greasy hands on his napkin. "Or are you just gonna stay in?"

Emma shrugged, picking at her fries. "I haven't thought about it really. No one is in town for me to hang out with, so I'm not sure what to do."

"You could come home with your father and me," Emma's mother suggested, sipping at her iced tea. "Your classes don't start till mid-January."

Emma snorted. "No offense, Mom, but I'd rather stay here alone than be back in Storybrooke. At least there's stuff to do here."

Mary Margaret sighed and scooted her plate away from the edge of the table. "Well is there anything you want to do before your father and I leave you, then?"

Emma shrugged, glancing out the window again as she sipped the last of her Guinness pint.

"Emma, we drove three hours down here to see you," Mary Margaret spoke, frustration laced in her tone. "You could at least hang out with us for a little longer."

But Emma couldn't find a reason to hang out with her parents, even if they did drive three hours to see her today. She just wanted to go home and wrap herself in her favorite micro-plush blanket. Emma didn't want to hear any more comments about her being single or what she was doing after she graduated and she just wanted to relax and not worry about the future. It was New Year's Eve, but Emma didn't want to worry about the coming year just yet.

She'd already done enough of that during the past semester to last her a lifetime.

Mary Margaret sighed and Emma heard the chair legs scratch the hardwood floor of the bar. "Fine. I'm going to the bathroom."

Emma ran her finger through the condensation that her pint left on the table as her mother walked away. She ignored her father's throat clearing as she drew indiscernible patterns on the table.

"Are you sure there isn't anything else you want to do, Emma?" David asked.

Emma shrugged. "Nothing that I can think of."

David sighed and said, "Alright. Then I should probably go to the bathroom too before we leave."

Emma stared back out the window as her father got up from the table to walk back to the restroom. She sighed, wishing that she wanted to see her parents for longer. But honestly, it was time to cut the umbilical cord. She was graduating in the spring and she couldn't keep relying on her parents like this. Emma needed to grow up and find the strength within herself to live on her own.

"How was your meal?" The waiter asked as he returned to the table. Emma looked over at him and her heart stuttered and Jesus Christ how could anybody be that attractive.

"Pretty good," Emma responded, faintly smiling before schooling her face into indifference.

"Any plans for tonight?" He asked in that delicious accent of his.

Emma shrugged. "Don't know."

"Well, there's going to be a big party here tonight," The waiter told Emma, a smile spreading on his face as he gathered the empty plates from the table. "I get off at ten, but I'm staying here to hang out with friends. It's bound to be crazy."

"Telling me your schedule, now? Not very subtle," Emma responded and she couldn't help the flirtatiousness from coming out. He was just so hot.

The waiter chuckled and God that sound made Emma feel things that she hadn't felt in a long while. "It wasn't, was it?"

Emma shook her head as she laughed under her breath. She shifted in her seat, tucking a leg underneath her, as she leaned forward on the table. "Any other reasons to come to the party tonight?"

"Free champagne at midnight, plenty of people to kiss to ring in the new year."

Emma laughed again and the waiter laughed in response. "Wow, another pick up? Do those usually work?"

"How about you let me know tonight?" The waiter asked, raising an eyebrow and wow that did things to her.

"Maybe I will," Emma replied. "What's your name so if I do happen to come by tonight, I can find you?"

"Killian. Killian Jones," The waiter responded, subtly winking at her, which sent a hot flush onto her cheeks. "And yours?"

"Emma Nolan."

"Well, Emma Nolan, I hope to see your beautiful face tonight," Killian said, carrying off the empty plates with a wide smile and twinkling eyes.

God, Emma hardly knew the man but she was already ruined.

This was stupid.

She was staring at her closet, just standing there, staring at her clothes, trying to decide whether or not she was actually going to go out to that bar for their party. She could stay in and curl up on the couch with her favorite blanket and a mug of hot cocoa with cinnamon and watch the ball drop alone, or go out and hang out with the hot waiter from that afternoon and possibly make out with him at midnight.

How was this even a battle?

Emma huffed and tugged a black sequined top from its hanger in the closet, draping it over her black, lacy push-up bra (which she did not put on in case of hot waiter guy-Killian-coming back over and really bringing the new year in with a bang). She looked in the mirror and arranged her perfectly curled waves over her shoulders, wishing that Elsa was in town to help her look good for tonight. But alas, Elsa was back home in Norway for the holidays and Emma was stuck in their two-bedroom apartment by herself.

Emma let out a deep breath as she slid her black eyeliner along the rims of her eyes. She didn't want to think about her worries tonight. She wanted to go out and have fun and forget that she still had no idea what she wanted out of life or that she was still as single as she could be (which was not necessarily a huge issue for her, mind you-but her mother always fretted over it). As Emma traced the eyeliner over her upper eyelids, she decided that yes, she was going to go home with Killian tonight.

Emma was going to start the year with a hot fuck.

So, of course when Emma arrived at the bar (notably named the Rabbit Hole), she deflated when she didn't first spot the hot waiter that hit on her earlier that day. She tried not to overthink the rejection coming over her in waves, almost drowning her until she saw those piercing blue eyes through the crowd and that smile that made her heart swell (she did not think about the butterflies in her stomach because that would mean something entirely different that Emma did not do).

"Emma!" Killian called as Emma weaved through the crowds, muttering about how it was only 10:30 and why was everybody already drunk. Emma smiled as she reached Killian, who eagerly wrapped his arms around her and hugged her in the middle of the bar, surrounded by random drunkards. She'd normally be completely turned off by a guy hugging her so soon after they had met, but Emma found his warmth comforting in a way that she had missed. "Glad to see that you could make it."

"Better than sitting in my apartment alone," Emma responded truthfully, stepping back as Killian unwrapped his arms from around her (and she did not linger over the cold that now enveloped her being).

But she did notice how Killian's eyes scanned her body, noticeably stopping at her hips and her perky breasts (which she must say look fantastic in this shirt) (and that was not why she chose the shirt) (ugh fine it's totally why she chose the shirt).

"See something you like, Jones?" Emma asked boldly, completely aware of where that came from because she could be the biggest flirt if she wanted to. And well…the way he was staring at her, Emma couldn't help it.

"Oh you have no idea, Nolan," Killian replied and his tongue stuck out the wet his bottom lip and wow Emma was already in so deep.

Killian then cleared his throat, breaking his gaze from Emma's eyes, and turned to face the growing crowd. "So, my friends have naturally already broken off to find their own dates for midnight. There is Will"-Killian pointed to a man across the room, solemnly drinking a glass of amber liquid (probably rum)-"he broods a lot. Then there is Robin"-Killian scanned the room, then suddenly pointed over at a blonde man who was cozying up to a pretty brunette-"and he's with Regina, who he's been trying to win over for the past three New Year's Eves'. But he's feeling pretty good about this year. And then"-Killian turned a full 360, before pointing to a guy making out with a blonde woman not too far ahead of where Emma and Killian were standing-"that's Graham, if you can see past the lass on his face."

Emma chuckled and wow he was just going at it with that girl. "I think he was in my Criminal Law class this past semester."

"That's a possibility," Killian responded, looking back over at Emma with a smile on his face. "We all live together in a house not too far from here."

"How do you all know each other?" Emma asked, tucking her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

"We're all from the UK. Met at orientation when we were incoming freshman," Killian replied. "We all stayed here for break."

"Why?"

"Nothing to go back to," Killian responded so simply, like it wasn't even a big deal for him to say. Emma didn't say anything back-couldn't say anything because she didn't know what to say and nothing would be enough-"How about we go get you a drink? A Guinness, I presume?"

Emma smiled, laughing under her breath. "How'd you know?"

"You're something of an open book, love," Killian responded and smiled, taking her by the hand to lead her back to the bar.

The way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her…Emma should've been terrified, like she had been by every guy ever since Neal. But, Emma felt no fear. It was New Year's Eve and she wanted to ring in the new year by turning over a new leaf. Emma would not allow herself to become afraid. She was going to sleep with the hot waiter.

She was not going to let her fear or worries strangle her, like they did nearly every day.

Emma was going to get drunk, have fun, and enjoy tonight.

Five shots of tequila and two pints of Guinness later and Emma was feeling good.

Killian had insisted on not getting too drunk, but shit when Emma decided to drink, she decided to go hard. So, Killian decided to match her drink for drink. And well, that's why they were now cuddling in a booth, her back pressed against his stomach as they sipped on their own drinks: Emma's third pint of Guinness and Killian's tumbler full of rum. Emma recrossed her legs at the ankles on the booth, snuggling back into Killian's warm chest. His arm tightened around her waist and Emma had to admit that this felt nice. And maybe the alcohol was numbing the fear that Emma knew was lurking in the back of her mind, even if she swore she'd silence it for the night.

It was always a niggling thought in the back of her mind, that nothing good ever lasts and she wasn't ever good enough to be loved romantically.

Fuck, if she was gonna have thoughts like that, she was gonna have to drink more.

Emma looked over at one of the billion televisions in the bar and saw that it was nearing the five minute mark. In five minutes, it'd be a new year and Emma would have a clean slate. And if she snuggled back into Killian again, so be it.

"Why didn't you go home for break?" Killian asked, his accent thick and heavy with alcohol and it did not do things to Emma.

"Didn't want to deal with all my friends having their shit together," Emma responded completely honestly.

Emma didn't know what it was (who was she kidding-she knew exactly what it was: it was the alcohol and the undeniably safe feeling Killian gave her) but she just found it easy to talk to him, even if she had only met him that afternoon. Over the past hour, they'd gotten to know each other. Nothing too deep, obviously, because Emma still had walls, even when she was drunk. But, she'd gotten to know the attractive waiter and damn she liked him even more than she had wanted to.

"Looked like it was more than that," Killian replied and Emma turned her head to look at Killian in her periphery. "I'm quite perceptive, love, and I saw the tension between you and your mother."

Emma sighed, tracing her finger along the rim of her glass. "She just worries a lot."

"About what?" Killian asked as his head relaxed against the back of the booth.

"Everything. What I'm doing after-hic-graduation, if I have a boyfriend or not-which I don't fucking need anyways, but she likes to ask me about guys anyways," Emma slurred out, the alcohol clearly affecting her judgment. "And she still likes to comment on how I'm so far from home and why can't I just come home and just-hic-I love her but she drives me insane."

Emma sighed and slowly sipped on her beer. As she liked her lips free of the excess beer, she said, "She means well but-hic-I just want her to let me live my own life and do what I want to do."

"Hic-isn't that what we all want?" Killian asked as he straightened up in his seat, his arm tightening around Emma's waist as he pulled her up. "To have someone who would just let us be. To let us make our own mistakes and to not judge us for when we inevitably fuck up. To let us do what we want and what we love and to just be proud of us. To let us make out with the hot stranger in the bar and be like 'hell yeah, go you!'"

And with the simple statement, Emma felt her fear take hold of her. She thought she had numbed it, but oh no-it was just waiting to grab her tight and drag her back down into the dark depths of her mind. She was going to make out with a perfect stranger (stress on 'perfect') and Emma didn't do that. She always kept her walls high and she didn't flirt and cuddle with a man she just met.

"I need some air," Emma said quickly, sliding her beer further onto the table as she untangled herself from around Killian.

Emma weaved through the crowds of people, seeing from the corner of her eye that there was only two minutes until the ball dropped and the new year began. The new year hadn't even begun and Emma was panicking, freaking out over the thought of throwing caution to the wind and turning over a new leaf and all of those stupid clichés. It wasn't until she was outside in the frigid cold, surrounded by snow and the only company being the bright moon high in the sky, that she realized that Killian had followed her out of the bar.

"Emma!" Killian called for her and Emma turned around, standing beside floor-to-ceiling windows, where she could perfectly see the camera pan to the ball in New York City, only a minute or so left to go. He walked over to her, gracefully as if he didn't have a sip of alcohol in his body. "Did I say something wrong?"

Emma shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. "I just-God, I don't do this. I don't go out to bars and flirt with hot guys, alright? I stay at home, read a good book, cuddle in my favorite blanket, and drink hot chocolate. I don't tell strangers about my problems, even when I'm drunk-especially when I'm drunk. And I especially don't make out with hot guys the very first day I meet them."

Emma took a deep breath and tucked her hands into her jean's pockets. "I wanted to try something new for New Year's, but now-I'm just nervous. I want to change, but-"

"It's scary," Killian responded, taking a small step forward, noticing how the ball is slowly beginning to drift down the pole, forty-five seconds left. "I know. And I don't want to push you into anything you don't want to do."

Emma wanted to scoff at that, to roll her eyes at the blatant lie. But, he was telling her the truth. She could see it in the sincerity of his eyes and the way he held himself. Killian did care.

"The thing is, is that I want to," Emma replied, glancing down at the ground. "I want to make out with the hot guy that I just met."

"Well," Killian began saying as he stepped forward, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets, "what's your decision going to be?"

Emma looked up at Killian's blue eyes (God, she could get lost in those eyes) and noticed from the corner of her eye that it was the final ten seconds. In ten seconds, it'd be a new year and she would have a clean slate. She'd be past Neal's departure in February (on Valentine's Day, of fucking course) and she'd be past her stupid finals and midterms and whatever and fuck it-

Emma gripped the lapels of Killian's leather jacket like her life depended on it and tugged him forward the final foot that separated them, pressing her lips against his as she heard the cheering from inside of the bar, ringing in the new year. His lips tightened in surprise, but just a moment later, Killian relaxed against her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tightly against him as Killian opened his mouth and deepened the kiss.

And Emma felt as if everything was on fire.

Her lips were burning with the intensity of his kiss, with the passion and desire he pressed upon her lips and Emma had prided herself on having insane amounts of self-control but she needed Killian back at her apartment right now. And with how Killian traced his tongue along her bottom lip and nipped at it as she gasped, Emma was pretty sure he wanted the same thing.

And well, she could feel it pressing against her leg as he tightened his hold around her waist.

"You wanna know something?" Emma asked as she finally pulled her lips away (she's surprised her self-control is that strong).

"What?" Killian responded back, his accent thicker and God Emma imagined how it would sound from in between her thighs-

"There was something else I wanted to do with the hot guy from the bar."

Killian lifted an eyebrow. "And what was that?"

Emma pulled away and grasped Killian's hand tightly in hers, tugging him along the snow-filled sidewalk. She bit on her bottom lip and it took Killian two seconds to figure out what exactly was going through her mind.

"Bloody hell."

It took ten minutes to make it back to Emma's apartment and a record time of twenty seconds to make it into her queen-sized bed (freshly made because wishful thinking). There was a blur of teeth clacking and nails scraping as they pulled at each other's clothes. First went Killian's jacket (thrown over to her desk in the far corner of the room), then went Emma's black blazer (tossed over in the direction of her closet, which is at least where it was supposed to go). As Kilian made work of the button on her jeans, Emma wished that she had taken the time to shave her legs and her armpits-

All of her thoughts were quickly silenced by Kilian pressing open-mouthed kisses down her neck and Jesus Christ her legs almost gave out because no guy she had ever been with knew that was her weakest spot and Emma let out an embarrassingly loud moan, to which Killian had chuckled, smug in his victory.

"Shut up," Emma moaned out, which she had intended to be a lot more firm but it had turned out to be breathy and full of intentions.

Killian laughed again as his hand reached up to palm at Emma's breast, still covered by her low-cut, sequined shirt. She threw her head back and did not even attempt to stifle the moan that came out of her mouth because Jesus even Neal didn't make her feel like this, completely wanton and free. Killian groaned against her neck, obviously affected by the noises Emma was making.

Emma gripped the bottom of Killian's dark blue t-shirt and Killian leaned back, knowing her intentions, as Emma lifted it over his head. And holy God, Emma was not expecting a chest full of black hair (which was a weakness of hers that no one knew of) and a trimmed stomach that Emma drooled over. Her fingers traced over the subtle V exposed above his jeans and she felt her stomach flip with desire.

"Holy fuck," Emma groaned out, apparently the alcohol still affecting her judgment because she would not have said that if she was sober.

"See something you like, love?" Killian teased, quoting her words from earlier in the night.

Emma responded by just pulling his face down to hers and nipping at his bottom lip, which made him completely forget about the question and push her over to her bed, where her knees met the mattress and she gently fell on top of it. A bolt of anticipation shot down to her clit as she looked up at Killian, seeing the way he looked at her with just pure hunger in his eyes.

"What are you waiting for?" Emma taunted, crawling up the mattress as she continued to look him in the eyes.

"Bloody minx," Killian muttered under his breath as he gripped the legs of Emma's jeans and tugged them off, throwing them across the room.

Killian crawled up the length of her, pressing kisses to her (stubbly) legs (God why didn't she shave?) and gently began pushing her shirt up her body, continuing to kiss her exposed skin as he moved up her body. Emma arched her back under his touch to allow Killian to take her shirt off, which he flung over to the far corner of the room. He leaned back, his knees on either side of Emma's legs and Emma could feel his eyes memorizing every curve.

"Stunning," Killian muttered as he bent back down, sweeping his tongue into Emma's mouth as Emma dragged her nails down his well-muscled back.

And in a move that surprised Emma, she pushed Killian over, having him lay on his back as she straddled his hips. She gasped as his bulge hit perfectly where she needed him most, through her damp underwear.

"Okay, I need to fuck you now," Emma moaned out as she scooted down to unbutton Killian's jeans. Killian lifted his hips for Emma to pull the jeans off his legs, which she allowed to drop to the foot of the bed.

Emma nibbled her bottom lip as she noticed the very large tent in Killian's boxer briefs. She tugged down the elastic, which allowed Killian's erection to spring free. She wrapped her hand gently around it, listening to Killian's hisses and groans. While his eyes were closed and his head thrown back into the pillows, Emma bent down and licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock.

"Oh fuck," Killian moaned out. "That's a very bad idea."

Emma giggled under her breath as she moved up Killian's body, hovering just over him. "Well, what's a good idea then?"

Killian immediately flipped her over, her back pressing into the mattress as he pressed himself against her. Emma gasped again as her legs instinctually fell to Killian's sides and she could feel his cock nudge at her entrance (which was undoubtedly ready for him-Neal always made a comment about how she was always ready). Emma breathed heavily as Killian slowly trailed his fingers down her stomach and past the elastic of her lacy underwear (a perfect match to her bra because wishful thinking).

"God," Killian groaned out as he met Emma's slick heat, pressing inside of her and Emma moaned loudly into the quiet room. "That's it, love. I want to hear you."

Killian pushed another finger in, more insistently, and Emma moaned again, even louder than before. God, this did not feel like a random fuck at all; it felt as though they had been lovers for years, with how Killian just knew exactly what Emma needed.

"Oh God, Killian please, I just need you," Emma moaned as he pulled his fingers from her.

"Condom?" Killian asked, peeling away Emma's underwear.

"The nightstand. Top drawer."

Killian pressed a gentle kiss just to Emma's navel before he sat up and found the condoms in the drawer Emma told him. He tugged off his underwear and Emma tried-she really did-to not stare at his bare ass as he rolled the condom over his length (but dammit she's only human).

Killian kneeled over Emma again, between Emma's legs, and planted his arms beside Emma's shoulders, his cock brushed against her core. "Ready?"

Emma nodded and in one fell swoop, Killian sheathed himself inside of Emma, moaning in unison as Emma adjusted to his size. He wasn't overtly large, so it didn't take Emma long to get used to his size. And as soon as he began pumping in and out of her, she felt the pleasure building inside of her.

"Oh God," Emma keened, wrapping her legs tightly around Killian's hips.

"Bloody hell," Killian groaned into her neck as his hips picked up a steady speed.

Killian began kissing Emma's neck again and Emma could see stars, the pleasure she was feeling just so much and fuck she still needed more. She needed everything that Killian could give her and fuck how could she trick herself into thinking this would only be a random fuck? Even from seeing him for the first time that afternoon, Emma knew it wouldn't be just a one night stand.

And dammit, Emma didn't want it to be.

"God, you feel so good, Emma," Killian whispered against her neck, worrying a mark that she knew would be visible the next day.

"More," Emma whined, just as Killian hit that spot within her that made her sing. "Faster."

And Killian picked up the speed, bucking his hips in an almost brutal rhythm, but was exactly what Emma needed and God she could feel everything building. But before she could even speak the words, Killian moved his hand down and thumbed at where they were joined, pressing gentle circles over her clit and God she was so close.

"Killian, please," Emma moaned, dragging her fingernails down Killian's back again.

And with a few more strokes of Emma's clit, Emma came, harder than she had with anybody else (or herself, if she was being entirely honest). White spots appeared in her vision and her legs tightened around Killian's hips and she was breathless-so breathless. Just as she was coming down from her high, Killian pulled his face back up to look at Emma, his hand placed against Emma's cheek as his thrusts grew erratic as he chased his release.

"Come for me, Killian," Emma whispered, her clit sensitive and twinging every time his hips met hers.

"Fuck, Emma," Killian groaned out as he pressed his lips to hers and stiffened, his seed spilling into the condom as he finished.

But he didn't move immediately. Instead, he stayed just like that, his lips moving in a gentle dance against Emma's. Her hand cupped his head, running her fingers through that thick hair, and Killian's hand stroked Emma's cheek.

Yeah, this definitely wasn't a one night stand.

(And when they woke up together, wrapped in each other's arm, Emma didn't panic. She did not run nor grow fearful. She accepted him with open arms.

And if she brought him home the next New Year's and introduced him as her boyfriend, it made her the happiest girl in the world.)