1 Year Anniversary of me joining the OUAT writers force. MWAHAHAHAHA.

Here there be smut.

AU: "I live in royalty where you are my bodyguard and I have no idea what I'm doing HELP WHICH FORK IS WHICH"

Frustrated, Princess?

"Inside out?"

"Outside in," his musical voice came singing from behind her as she sat at the table, cutlery laid out beside her. "The smaller, the earlier."

"And why does that not sound like an eating instruction coming from your mouth," Emma answered rolling her eyes as she recognized the voice of her personal guard. "Let me guess, there's nothing small about you?"

"My lady," Killian mocked offence, coming to stand beside her. "Such things should not come from such a delicate mouth."

"Why is everything you say laced in innuendo," Emma groaned in frustration, his proximity not helping manners. It was her first day back at court after spending her entire childhood in the north with Ella and Thomas. It was deemed safer whilst the war was going on, but now, the war was over. And Emma was home.

But of course, her parents had to assign the most annoying of body guards who lingered at her backside – taking every opportunity to look at it too – at every waking moment.

"Why didn't I learn this in Northern Court," Emma sighed, pushing her chair back, knowing fully well that Killian was leaning on it, and breathing a chuckle when she heard a grunt of pain. Served the bastard right for invading her personal space. "I wouldn't have to put up with your helpful hints."

"You love my helpful hints, Princess," Killian retorted, hand nursing his ribs as he followed her from the room.

"You know, you could do something really helpful and teach me to defend myself so I don't need you."

"Erm, I get paid to do this," Killian pointed out, "Why on Earth would I teach you that?"

"I know other dignitaries that need bodyguards."

"Mm," Killians said, coming over to walk in step with her and tapping her belittlingly on the nose. "But none of them are as cute as you, Princess."

Emma through her hands up in frustration before walking quickly to her chambers. "I'm going to the water closet and you, good sir, can wait out here."

"As my Princess commands," he answered mockingly, give a flourished bow before she shut her door in his face.

Emma was quick about going to her cupboard and tying all of her sheets together. Perhaps she couldn't swordfight yet, but knots – knots she could do. Knots around her balcony that lead straight to the ground.

And by the time Killian finally thought she'd taken long enough and burst into the room, the Princess was long gone. Looking at the swaying sheets, he simply murmured.

"Bloody hell."

"Alright, Princess, time to go."

"How did you find me?!" she looked genuinely horrified as she stared up at him worried that he was going to tell her parents where she'd been. Cause honestly, the tavern? She'd be grounded until she was married! Granted, that day probably wasn't far off.

"I know you better than you think, lass," Killian answered with a roll of his eyes. "Now, it's getting dark out. And if you aren't back before dinner, people will start asking questions."

"So, you want me to go home…now?"

Emma watched Killian coming closer to her with a questioning glance in his eyes. And he must have found his answer because the next second he was smirking, "Never had rum before, Princess?"

"What?"

"You're a little tipsy," Killian laughed, before leaning on the wall and inclining his head towards the door. "Come on now, time to leave your friends."

Emma sighed and finally moved to stand up, finding one of the teenage boys that she was sitting with's hand on her wrist.

"The lady leaves alone," Killian said, hand instinctively moving to cover his sword. Emma glanced at him, there was something more than protectiveness in his eyes. But no…it couldn't be jealousy. She was just tipsy.

"It's okay, Bae," she answered with a flirtatious smile, "I'll be back soon."

Not.

She headed out of the tavern with Killian hot on her heels. He was silent for a few moments and it was disconcerting. But the minute she began to speak, he was ranting.

"Do you have any idea the trouble I would have been in if I hadn't found you! And those boys! You don't even know them! I despair to think of what could have happened…"

Killian trailed off, and Emma noticed him bite his lip, calming himself down before continuing, "We should move."

"Killian…" Emma wasn't sure why she wanted to comfort him, but she did.

"You'll need to wash your face before dinner," he commented offhandedly as they walked, "You're looking too flushed."

If possible, Emma blushed even further.

Why, dear God, why did tonight have to be the night when her parents served wine? She sipped. She really tried. But there was the owner of a local vineyard there and so many varieties to try.

She kept glancing at Killian, and he was constantly eyeing her, worried that she was going to have an outburst or fall asleep at the table. He seemed somewhat relieved when dessert finished and Emma hadn't spoken very much. Mind you, she'd been watching him curiously all night, the alcohol clearly clouding her brain, because she'd been gradually thinking he was more and more attractive as the night went on. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed before. He wasn't that much older than her, perhaps three, maybe four years older, with a face that honestly would make women swoon. Thinking back, sometimes when he smirked, it grated on her nerves a little too much because damn, he was so handsome.

When he finally realized she was staring at him, Killian quirked an eyebrow and Emma turned her eyes down, a soft smile growing upon her lips. She was feeling quite hot and she wasn't sure why…

"If it's okay, may I be excused, Papa?"

Charming smiled at her with a nod, "It is quite late. Killian can escort you."

Shit.

"Walk in a straight line, Princess," he murmured from the corner of his perfectly shaped mouth.

"I'm not drunk," she whispered as they rounded the corner and could finally breath now that she was out of sight of her parents. Finally she slumped against the wall, toeing her shoes off her feet with a loud sigh of relief. Picking up the tight heels, she shot Killian a dazzling smile that he visibly stumbled at. So what? He was handsome and she was feeling good.

"Race you to my room!" she challenged with a conspiratorial whisper, before bolting for the staircase, her skirts flying out behind her. Her giggles followed her all the way, sweeping up the staircase like the sound of a joy incarnate…

Killian sprinted after her, following her like a sailor being led to his doom. He had never seen her this lighthearted. Her smiling laughter was infectious and he chased her as fast as he could.

She stumbled on the second floor, almost falling flat on her face, but Killian caught her just in time, spinning her into his arms with a finesse that she clearly couldn't comprehend in her current state.

Killian's hands were afire as he held her against him, and she made no effort to fight him off. Instead, he found her eyes searching his face with wondrous eyes. He never wanted to let her go – he wanted to drag her in until there was no room left between them. He wanted to press his lips against hers, tangle their tongues in a glorious dance. He wanted to push her against the wall and…

"Killian," she breathed.

And the moment was broken.

Like that, he remembered where he was, and more importantly, who he was.

He coughed abruptly and let her go, her feet stumbling before she regained her composure, a slight frown crossing her brow before she smiled once more, "I'm gonna win." And she sprinted off again.

Killian rolled his eyes. Whilst Emma drunk was a welcome change, it was also like riding a very jagged rollercoaster that led straight to her door. She was leaning against it with a satisfied smile.

"I won," she grinned, green eyes sparkling.

"Aye, Princess," he answered, slightly panting. "That you did."

"What's my prize?" she enquired coyly, her fingers reaching for him. He could see the flirtation in her eyes and it nearly bowled him over. Well, that and her hands fisting around his collar, and yanking him towards her without preempt, crashing her lips into his.

Her lips were soft and luscious and she tasted of sweet wine that he would happily get drunk on. She grinned into the kiss when he began to return it, tongue slipping between the seam of her lips and plunging into her mouth. Her hands slid into his hair, toying with the short strands and grasping at his neck. The feel of her was indescribable.

She was pressing against him... intimately. Her dress did little to hide the forward thrusting of her hip as she ground against him. And God help him, he could feel himself hardening with just the mere thought of what lay beneath them. He prided himself on being a gentlemen…most of the time. When it came to her, however, sometimes his thoughts ran wild with fantasies.

His thoughts remained fairly chaste up till now. The idea of sneaking her into a closet and stealing a few kisses seemed like the ultimate sin. But in this moment, as he stepped forward to push her back against her door, closing all possible space their could have been, he knew things would only get more forbidden from here.

She gasped when his hands left her waist to travel upwards. His hand skirted the underside of her breast whilst his lips began to trail down her neck, pressing delicate kisses to the generous skin left on display for him, flushed with her desire.

Or perhaps her intoxication.

He let out a sigh as he took his hand back to a safe place and placed one final kiss to her collarbone before pulling away. Emma, her thoughts hazy with lust, looked up at him in confusion.

"What are you…"

"First and foremost, I'm a gentlemen, love," he said with an apologetic smile. "I won't take advantage of you whilst you're drunk. God knows you hate me under normal circumstances…"

"But you…" Emma looked from his face – his lips probably swollen with the force at which he'd been kissing her – to his very obvious arousal which was mildly uncomfortable. "You want to…"

"Unfortunately, you don't," Killian answered sadly, leaning forward to take her hand. He pressed a proprietary kiss to her knuckles, along with a bow before departing with a, "Sleep well, Princess."

Emma didn't respond, but Killian heard the dorm slam shut behind him.

Emma didn't speak to him for the rest of the week. He was surprised to be honest. Killian had actually thought she'd drunk enough to not remember their brief interlude. But alas, she did, and it was with ever increasing shortness of patience that he did his job dutifully – and silently.

But Christ, he wanted her.

Unfortunately, due to their heavy make-out session by her door, his imagination had been running wild with all sorts of thoughts. The mere image of the princess's face as he had felt her body, the sound he had heard her make, made him hard within seconds. At night, he would find himself alone, hand wrapped around his cock and stroking away the sensations of her body, imagining that it was her riding him into completion, her golden hair tousled and his skin marked from her passion.

Because he had always been hers, even if she didn't know it.

And those few days were torment. Being by her side, but unable to communicate or touch her, knowing that she had gone back to hating him without a second thought. And when she eventually snuck out, he didn't even find it a surprise. Although, this time he knew exactly where she was heading, and his blood boiled with the mere thought.

Those boys simpering over her like she was there for their own personal entertainment. Their hands brushing her soft skin like it belonged to them. And she was letting them. He couldn't simply stand in the doorway quietly this time, he walked straight up to the table and put his hands flat on the wood.

"Killian," she said stiffly.

"Princess," he answered. "You'd better have a bloody good reason for leaving."

"Oh I do," she answered, before turning back to the boy next to her and whispering something in his ear. Killian noticed her hand discreetly sneaking beneath the table, and before he even followed that thought through, he was yanking on the princess's arm and pulling her to her feet. She protested, as did the boy following after her, but Killian didn't let go of the iron grip he had on her arm. How dare she! How dare she…

"HOW DARE YOU!"

Emma tore her arm from his grip with a fury raging in her eyes. "You knew I was safe. You could've just watched me, like you always do. It's what you're good at."

She pushed him away and kept walking. But they were both too angry after their last few days of standoff.

"Don't pretend like this is nothing, Princess," he answered, tugging her back. "We need to talk about it."

"About what," she growled, spinning around. She pushed him backwards with a strength Killian didn't now she possessed. "You outright rejected me! Why on Earth would I want to –"

"I rejected you?" Killian breathed in disbelief. "Are you serious? You are destroying me Princess. Your lips…"

"No," Emma retorted, brushing away his hand that had been reaching for her lips. He needed to feel them – to feel her. "You don't get to be a jealous prick, full of entitlement. If I want to hang out with Baelfire, then I will."

"Like you weren't trying to make me jealous," Killian answered, hearing the darkness creeping into his voice. He saw Emma seize up, her eyes searching to find hers. It was true. She was.

"You knew I would follow you," Killian breathed, stepping forward and crowding her in, a smirk forming upon his lips. "You knew that I'd be here to witness your little interlude. And you knew what I'd do."

"What will you do?" Emma answered, and there was no doubt that it was incredibly coy.

Before she knew it, he had her pressed against the side of the nearest building, his arms caging her and feeling her breath hot on his face.

"Do you remember the last time we were like this, Princess?" Killian breathed, face darting into her neck, to kiss it gently. She didn't pull away from him, her breath merely picking up, quicker.

"Yes."

"And would you like to continue?" Killian asked, praying that she would say yes because being so close to her again was killing him. His hand drifted down her body, cupping her breast through her dress and squeezing, feeling her body bend into him – pliant and willing.

"I…" He ventured higher, his tongue tasting her jaw, before nipping the side of her lip.

"Do you want me, Princess?"

"Are you going to back out on me again?" she retorted, fingers moving up to his waist. Her fingers pressed through his shirt just above his belt, before hooking around it and pulling his hips into hers, his hardness meeting her hips with ferocity.

Killian kissed her, fierce and demanding, tasting her desperately because he needed to know she hadn't been drinking. He needed to know that this was a hundred percent real.

"Let's get back to the castle," Emma breathed, tearing herself away, eyes dark with obvious lust. She gave him a gentle shove before scampering off, stopping only to turn back and give him a coy smile, "Well, Jones?

He gladly chased after her.

Emma couldn't believe what was happening. This was actually happening. He truly had been being a gentleman the other night. And she'd seen that before. Despite all his innuendo and the fact that he did often check out her ass, he still pulled out her chair and opened her doors and genuinely looked after her.

And he was so sexy. Especially after their interlude the other night, she'd found herself thinking about him on a regular basis. Or more accurately, about his lips, and his hands and the feel of him against her.

She wasn't inexperienced, but, she was still a virgin.

And she wasn't sure if Killian was, but…God, she didn't even care. She wanted him so badly in the most intimate way a woman could know a man. She'd been protected for way to long. She was seventeen – she was going to live a little.

The castle was almost empty by the time Emma and Killian walked through the Servant's door. They walked without suspicion towards her room, their footsteps echoing around the halls only adding to the anticipation. When Emma finally pushed open her door, she spotted the lit candles and sent a silent thank you to her maids. With a quick once over to check that the room was empty, she practically dragged Killian in by his hand before shutting the door behind her and pushing him abruptly towards the bed.

Killian stumbled back before licking his lips and giving her a once over with his lust-filled eyes.

"So," Emma began, stepping towards him, "I won. Yet again."

"I wasn't aware we were racing, Princess," he answered with a grin, pulling her in close before kissing her once more. God, she loved the way he kissed. His lips were so demanding – his hands bringing her in so tightly she never wanted to leave.

"No Princess, tonight," Emma breathed, pulling away as her hands tugged at his collar. "I'm just Emma."

"Okay then, Emma."

Oh God, she wasn't going to make it.

Her name in his voice – in his accent – the way he kind of rolled it around his mouth and let his tongue fold around it…his tongue…

"Just…take it off," Emma almost begged as he began to trace his tongue down her décolletage leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. She needed him everywhere. His hands to roam her bare flesh and his rough fingertips to press into her skin.

"Hmm…" Killian murmured against the swell of her breast, "I do love it when a lady asks so kindly."

Emma spun around in his grasp, not being able to see him only heightening the experience. His fingers nimbly worked at the laces of her dress and before she knew it, her dress was on the floor and kicked away along with her shoes.

"Fuck," Killian breathed as Emma spun around. She knew she looked good, hair tousled over her shoulders, corset and undergarments showing. To be honest, Killian looked enamoured by her body, but still his eyes came back to her face as he breathed, "You're beautiful, Emma."

And despite how far the evening had already progressed, Emma blushed.

She leant up to kiss him gently as his hands began to work at the front ties of her corset. A heat was building in her core when he slipped it off and she felt his hands on her flesh. He mapped her stomach before bringing his hands to her breasts. One cupped in each hand, he began to knead at the soft mounds, fingers brushing over her nipples until they were hard and pebbled. Her gasps of air left his mouth free, and he immediately dove in, laving his tongue over the pointed buds and leaving Emma in a wanting mess, hands threading through his dark tousled hair as she whimpered, "Killian…please."

"Please, what, Emma?" he taunted, grinning up at her as he fell to his knees, his hands playing with the edge of her stockings before he began to pull them down slowly. Right leg, then left leg…then he was staring up at her with that infuriatingly handsome face of his as though he was waiting to devour her and…oh…

His fingers were touching her in the place no man had ever touched before Pushing aside her panties, he was slipping his fingers against her wetness, teasing the folds of her skin before finding the nub that made her moan aloud, her hands clutching his hair even tighter.

"Oh God," she hissed, the pleasure rolling through her. She'd thought it was was going to hurt, but this – What was he doing?

His other hand was pushing down her panties, and she nervously stepped out of them. Killian took one glance up at her before pressing against her stomach – pushing her back towards the bed, where she fell into a seated position atop the covers.

"Killian?" she questioned as he knelt between her knees. He rose to place a delicate kiss upon her lips before pulling away, a smirk sparkling in his eyes. He kissed her shoulder, her breasts, her stomach and further leaving a path of fire in its wake. She was burning, she felt like she was going to combust…

And when his tongue made contact with her, she almost screamed, the pressure that she didn't know had been building deep within her released, and her body convulsed beneath his unceasing ministrations.

Her mouth was open in shock as her body buzzed with the after effect, Killian kept lapping at the wetness between her legs until it was almost painful, but then he was pulling back and looking at her with a wide grin.

"How was that, Princess?"

"Emma," she corrected, reaching forward to tug him to her not too gently at all. She was the punishing one now, her body filled with passion for the man who could bring about those feelings in her. Her hands were tugging as his belt, pulling it through and hearing it clatter to the floor. His shirt followed soon after, Emma taking in the sight of him hungrily, her hands trailing down his chest through the dusting of hair. His body was firm and trained, sculpted by years of work – first as an officer in her father's navy and then as deputy of the King's Guard, and now, her own personal watcher.

He was watching her very closely right then and his hands were tracing over her body, even as she ventured lower to cup him through his – very tight pants – she noted appreciatively.

And he was just as thankful, a low growl settling in the back of his throat as he felt her hand. Emma touched him hesitantly, moving to his laces curiously. When Killian spoke again, it was with a lightly strained voice, "Not to sound demanding, love, but if you could hurry…"

Emma chuckled as she finally loosed them enough, pushing at the dark leather and his underpants to see exactly what she was dealing with.

"Fuck," she murmured, finally seeing him in all his glory. She'd seen it in books and she knew it was supposed to feel good… It was just so… "Huge."

Killian chuckled and Emma realized she'd said it aloud before blushing profusely. "Language, darling," he smiled as she reaching out to trail her fingers down his length. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but this cat was getting thoroughly satisfied before that happened.

Her hand circled around his length before wrapping around it in a fist and tugging in sure swift strokes that had Killian groaning softly, thrusting his hips into her hand in a cruel mockery of what was about to occur. She could already feel herself growing aroused by the sight of him so ready to take pleasure in her and she needed him. Now.

Letting go of him, she scrambled back onto the bed, making room for him to join her. What she wasn't expecting was the downright predatory gaze that drifted over her as she moved into the candlelight.

He crawled onto the bed, following her to the pillows where he settled atop her, his arms caging her, and gazing at Emma like he wanted to devour her, even though, Emma added, he already had.

"Are you sure you want this, Emma?" he whispered, voice husky with lust.

"I am," she answered, surprisingly strongly. "I want you, Killian."

He kissed her when he aligned himself, pushing into her slowly and tenderly, drifting his lips to her neck when he whispered, "It's going to hurt."

"I know," Emma breathed, bracing for the impact.

It didn't hurt as much as she expected.

Killian pushed into her with a slight groan of pleasure whilst Emma bit down on her lip, letting the sharpness be taken over by the swells of pleasure that he was using his finger to bring her.

"Move," she finally choked out, needing to be filled by him – needing him as close as he could possibly be.

"Gods Emma, you're amazing," Killian grunted, his body swaying above hers as he thrusted his hips against her, sliding deliciously against her as she felt that pressure building once again. Her eyes closed as she felt the sensations but Killian's hand was in her hair, forcing her face up, "Look at me when you come, love," Killian breathed, "I want to see you."

Her mouth fell open at his words and the pleasure took over her, spiralling from the pit of her stomach to her toes and her fingertips. His loving was explosive and it only took a few more stunted thrusts as Emma continued to feel the aftershocks of her climax before Killian was coming, spilling himself inside of her with a drawn out groan Emma was pleased to note was her name. They fell onto the covers side by side, taking a moment to catch their breaths before Killian whispered, voice sated and tired, "Next time, it'll be better."

"You're hopeful, Jones," Emma smiled, turning to face him. "Already thinking of next time?"

"I hope," he answered with a grin. Emma pulled down the covers and climbed in beneath them, offering him them too with a wave of her hand, offhandedly adding, "It was very good anyway."

"I aim to please," Killian remarked and Emma muttered to herself, "That you did."

Beneath the covers, Emma felt safe and warm, questioning him on all he knew about more carnal activities until one probed her mind that needed answering.

"You came inside of me," Emma finally noted, as she looked over at him. "That won't…"

"Not at this time of your cycle."

Emma raised a brow which he countered just as easily.

"Sometimes it creeps me out how much you watch me," Emma said, leaning up on her elbow to get a better view of him, the candlelight casting shadows in every way that made the lines of his face more dark and prominent. He was sexy. Even more so when he was naked in her bed.

He responded do her words by reaching his left hand out to trail up her waist, cupping her breast in his hand and kneading it gently before whispering, "And this? Does this feel strange?"

"No," Emma answered, with an easy smile – a rare thing – leaning down to kiss him. "It feels right."

The next week, when the King of Ayar and his son came visiting, Emma smirked to herself when she glanced at the formal cutlery setting. Killian was, as usual, across the room, and she noticed that he too was smiling. But it didn't seem to have the depth it usually did. And that night, when he escorted her to her room, she asked him about it.

"It's okay, Princess," he said with a sad smile. "I'm okay."

"Killian," Emma frowned, annoyed with him for not telling the truth. "There is little we haven't shared. Please…"

"It's just…the Prince could kiss your hand. And flirt with you. And compliment your beauty without being reprehended. But me? I cannot touch you unless I am to save your life. I can't flirt with you…"

"You can flirt with me now," Emma answered pointedly but Killian sighed.

"You know that's not the point, Emma," Killian sighed. "I want you. I love what we have but I want all of you. Alone and in public. But I know I can never have that. What could a lowly Guard ever be to–"

Emma kissed him. And yes, it was a shut-him-up kiss. But it was also a comforting kiss, and a loving kiss, but he didn't have to know that yet. For now, it was enough that she was there to be with him.

"I know that today is the anniversary of your brother's death," she whispered, a gentle kiss being placed to his nose. He frowned.

"But how did you…"

"You may have watched," she whispered, pulling him into her room as she rubbed at his knuckles. "But I listened."

"This is stupid, Killian!"

"It is a perfectly good method for keeping good posture, Princess."

"I swear, if these books don't disappear from my head I will personally throw each and every single one of them at you with perfect accuracy!"

Their voices carried down the hall to where David was watching them with his arms folded, a bemused smile upon his face.

"Lovers quarrel?" Snow enquired as she approached him and David nodded before realizing what his wife had said and turning to her gobsmacked.

"What?!"

"Like you didn't notice?" Snow raised a brow. "They are so in love. They have been for months now."

Two weeks later, a very meek and wary Killian approached the king for permission to court his daughter. Lucky for him, Snow White was there, and permission was granted…with blessing.

Good thing too, because apparently, Killian didn't know Emma's cycle as well as he'd hoped and 10 months later, when he was getting ready to propose, she came flying into his room with tears streaming down her face, hysterically pulling up her dress and trying to wordlessly show him the bump that lay beneath it. He apologized to her once, but after that, he kissed her, and promised her that he would love her and care for her and their child.

But he did save the proposal for when she'd calmed down a little.

And perhaps at their wedding, she may have slumped a little and grabbed the wrong fork for the entrée, but it didn't truly matter. She was in love, as was he, and to him, Emma would always be the most beautiful, stubborn, fiery Princess he had ever known.

That is, until his little spitfire of a daughter came along…