A little late for the 4th of July, but a happy Independence Day to all my American readers! And a happy upcoming Bastille Day to my French ones (Joyeaux quatorze Juillet!)!
4th of July light smut
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine.
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"Remind me the purpose of these explosions, love."
"Fireworks, Killian, they're called fireworks. I thought they had these in the Enchanted Forest? I could've sworn Mulan said something about them…"
"Her kingdom uses gunpowder as a remedy, among other things. No, the gunpowder being shot into the sky in an array of colors, I understand. It's their purpose tonight of all nights that I'm questioning. What is the significance of today's date on their appearance?"
Emma tilted her head sideways to look at her pirate, taking in the red and gold light of sunset dancing across his skin as the sun finally dipped beyond the horizon, pulling the heat of the day with it as the night air took on its usual summer coolness. They had laid two small blankets out for themselves in the corner of the grassy field, clear enough from the trees to allow for an open view of the sky but just far enough from the other firework-watchers that they had a small bubble of privacy. Lying flat on their backs, side by side, Emma silently admitted to herself that she was glad to have brought the small blankets instead of camping chairs. It meant not having to worry about getting a crick in her neck while watching the show, even if that also meant dealing with a ground that was surprisingly cold underneath her.
"It's part of the celebration. Today's the Fourth of July," She started to explain.
"I've learned the realm's calendar, darling. Surely this isn't a celebration of that?" Killian interrupted.
Emma let out a chuckle as she tried to decide how best to summarize the history for him. "It's a celebration of independence. The country that Storybrooke is in, it used to be a colony for another country, for a monarchy actually. And on this day about 240 years ago, they declared their independence from that monarchy."
"Freedom from a life spent under a monarch's thumb? Aye, I can understand that," He said, his eyes turning thoughtful as he tensed slightly. "I assume there are a few more complicated and perhaps bloody details to the story than that? No monarchy I know of would take secession lying down."
"You wouldn't be wrong," Emma replied, knowing where his thoughts had turned. "I don't remember all the details of how the revolution got started and what led to what exactly, you'd have to read one of Henry's textbooks for that, but I do know that it had nothing to do with a corrupt monarchy. If I'm remembering right there were issues about colonists not having a say in their own government, and being overtaxed, and a bunch of other things like that. There wasn't bad blood forever though. Nowadays the countries are really good allies."
Her words seemed to relax Killian a little, and she took his hand in hers where it lay between them, watching his shoulders visibly deflate in further relaxation. A breeze rolled through the field, bristling the short grass and sending a sudden chill through Emma, one that didn't escape Killian's notice.
"Are you cold?" He asked, his eyes turned to meet hers.
She shook her head. "It's nothing. I'll be fine," She insisted.
"You're shivering, love. That's not nothing." Killian glanced around a moment, before his eyes lit up in inspiration. "Perhaps a blanket for cover? Budge over, will you, Swan?"
Emma felt her eyebrows knit together in confusion and then understanding as he shifted toward her, lying down again to share the small blanket she laid on, and pulling his blanket over them. She was instantly surrounded by warmth from the cloth over her and the heat of Killian's body directly next to her, and she sighed in contentment.
"Better?"
"Yeah, thanks," Emma answered quietly, eyes shyly meeting his thoughtful gaze.
His thoughtful look was replaced by a more curious stare, breaking the sudden heaviness of the air around them. "Wait a moment. You said 240 years ago? Then this country is-"
"Younger than you, old timer," Emma teased, nudging his shoulder with hers. "And we're not getting into that age thing again. There's a lot of stuff that hasn't been around as long as you have, countries included."
Killian's lips pressed together and flattened in a way that told Emma he wasn't pleased with the idea but he was going to drop the topic for now. "So is there a reason we've left Storybrooke for these explosive celebrations?" He asked.
"I'm pretty sure if anyone in Storybrooke saw fireworks they'd assume something magical was happening and that we had another crisis on our hands," Emma deadpanned. "Do you wanna deal with tons of people panicking over nothing?"
"Fair point."
The sun had set, the stars had come out to play, and Emma couldn't have asked for more perfect fireworks weather. She had always liked fireworks. They were one of the few constants in her life growing up, as she moved between families and group homes. No matter where she went, fireworks on the Fourth of July were common everywhere in the USA. Each town and city brought it's own flair and festive nature to the fireworks, but they all shared the same bright colors and echoing booms that resounded for miles around. And in the night's darkness, crammed like sardines amongst townspeople all eager for a decent view of the show, a young Emma could pretend that she had gone to the fireworks with those other people instead of alone.
This year, she had opted to make a happy memory out of those sad ones by bringing Killian along and granting them both some much needed quiet time outside of Storybrooke.
"Oh! It's starting!" Emma noticed, excitement rising as she spotted the firework workers and emergency crews scuttling into position.
The first firework went off with a muffled boom, launching into the air and bursting open in a radiant display of blue and white. The crowd 'oohed' and 'aahed' at the sight, marveling at it the way they would if it were an exotic flower they had stumbled upon. The first several launches were spaced far apart, as though to give the audience time to adjust to the loud echo of each controlled explosion, warming them up for the show to come.
Emma glanced at Killian out of the corner of her eye, eager to see what he thought of the display. His eyes were wide, mouth just barely open in awe. With every firework that went off, his eyes widened the slightest bit and his hand squeezed hers ever so slightly. She smiled; glad he seemed to be enjoying himself, and turned her attention back to the fireworks overhead.
Another boom, another launch, and another explosion. Each firework that was launched into the air shined with such brilliance that it lit up the field below in a thousand splendid colors brighter than a thousand splendid suns. A gold firework in the sky washed the crowd in the gold Killian had once told Emma that her hair reminded him of, and a blue firework was a blue sun, bathing the world in the ocean Emma saw in Killian's eyes.
Every so often a new style of firework would be put into rotation. One opened like a small yellow flower but drooped down into a golden willow tree, it's branches reaching for the ground in an effort to graze its surface before extinguishing. Another burst open like all the others as a flower with gleaming petals, but then burst again, the petals exploding into smaller flowers of their own that crackled through their short life.
Emma had no idea how much time passed, and she barely registered Killian's hand guiding both of their hands to rest on top of her thigh, gently stroking the muscle. Emma startled at that, and then relaxed as their combined hands crept up her leg. His fingers danced their way along the denim-covered skin, leaving her mouth open and her breathing to quicken. Killian brought their hands higher and higher up her thigh and then slid them back down toward her knee where he started, repeating the process all over again until she was a warm and pliant pile of mush.
"Is this what you had in mind when you pulled the blanket over us?" Emma asked, voice mischievous and a little breathless.
She heard him chuckle. "Perish the thought, darling. I saw you chilled before and sought to warm you as a gentleman would. This is merely a… Situational addendum. Though not an unwanted one, I hope?"
In response, Emma untangled their fingers from each other and held his wrist, guiding his hand higher along her inner thigh until it reached her clothed center. Killian groaned at the move, fingers pressing against her.
"Eyes skyward, love. Wouldn't want you to miss the show." His words sent a curl of heat through her as her breath caught in her throat and he began to move.
Being touched like this allowed for all the sensations of being blindfolded, but without the darkness. With her eyes glued to the captivating fireworks above, Emma could only concentrate on Killian's touch sending liquid fire through her. It was as though he were timing the deft movements of his fingers with the explosions above, pressing against her harder every time a particularly loud firework was set off. She fisted one hand into the fabric of his pants, needing to cling onto something solid to keep herself from floating away at the headiness of it all.
The fireworks overhead continued to light up the field as bright as the daytime sun and briefly illuminated their hidden activities before plunging them back into the shadows of night. Emma had deliberately settled their blankets far enough from the crowd of people so that they wouldn't be disturbed, knowing Killian preferred their private time to be exactly that, private, but there was still the very real possibility that they could be caught given their proximity to those other people and the increasing frequency of fireworks lighting the field. But the very idea of being caught heightened everything further for Emma, especially when Killian had only just begun to touch her more intimately.
The heel of his hand pressed against her center, shooting sparks up and down her spine. Her legs fell open, giving him more access, and she was rewarded with a firmer press against the bundle of nerves and a finger sliding back toward her clothed slit, pushing in as far as the tough denim would allow. She thought should have been embarrassed that she was already wet and probably soaking through her jeans just from his initial touches, but couldn't find it in her to care, not when he felt so good against her and was playing her like a finely tuned fiddle.
"Mmm, Killian." Her breaths came in pants against her lips, the tiny gasps quickly turning into moans with every stroke of his fingers.
"Enjoying yourself love?" Emma could practically hear him smirking, even over the echoes of the fireworks above. Damn him, the man knew exactly what he was doing and exactly how much it was affecting her. And Emma didn't want him to stop anytime soon.
"Please, Killian."
"Please what?" He teased. His fingers pulled away for a moment and she groaned at the loss.
"I need you," She breathed, the fingers of her left hand tightening on his pants. "Need more." With her free hand she unbuttoned her jeans and unzipped them, grabbing his hand and pulling it toward the exposed skin. Emma heard his groan of approval and she sighed in relief as his fingers began to slide into her pants and beneath her underwear. The tight denim restricted his movements at first, but as his large hand made its way to her center she used her free hand to shove the fabric down her legs, granting him more access. When his fingers reached her soaked core he gave a deliberate swipe that had her gasping.
"Gods above, Emma," He sighed in wonder. "You're soaked already. You really get off on this, don't you, me having my wicked way with you out where anyone could catch us? Among a throng of people otherwise unaware?"
Emma could only whimper helplessly at his words, her hips lifting invitingly to try and bring his fingers back inside.
He chuckled at her wordless plea. "Fear not, darling. You know I'll not leave you high and dry."
Killian plunged two fingers deep inside her and Emma had to bite her lip from moaning too loudly. He set a deliberate and steady pace, matching the intensity of his thrusts with the fireworks overhead. Every burst of color that he sent shooting behind her eyes was matched by an even more colorful explosion in the sky above, magnifying the sensations of his touch a hundred times over. It was a new kind of erotic for Emma, and it had a coil of heat tightening further and further inside her, threatening her with blissful release if Killian would just let her slip beyond it.
But every time she came close to toppling over her pirate's thrusts would turn shallow, and she would be left moaning quietly in delicious frustration.
"Ah ah, not so fast love," He crooned, those sinful lips brushing against her ear. When she tried to lift her hips to meet his fingers he pulled them away farther, raising them to rub circles around her clit but never giving her the satisfaction of full contact.
"Killian, please. I need- Oh fuck."
"I know darling, but you're such a temptation like this, laid out for me like a feast." His lilted accent only added to the sensations, sending her closer to that golden peak of release without granting her reprieve. "I wish you could see yourself right now, that you could see how glorious you look with the sky in your eyes and your head thrown back in passionate abandon. You're a sight to behold Emma."
"Oh, fuck yes," Emma keened.
The pace of his fingers suddenly jumped, thrusting in and out of her with almost reckless abandon and it was only when she allowed her eyes to focus on the fireworks that she realized the finale had started and they had nearly reached the end of the show. Had he really been toying with her and keeping her straddling the edge for so long?
"Finale," She managed to choke out, not sure if he understood her meaning. Killian seemed to understand though, and the brutal pace of his fingers was soon matched by the press of his thumb against her clit. Emma almost wept in relief, knowing that the end was in sight and Killian would grant her release soon.
Her free hand flew under her shirt, groping for her breast. She kneaded the soft flesh in time with the thrust of Killian's fingers, eventually shoving the cup down to pinch and pull on the hardened peak.
Killian growled at her eagerness. "That's it beautiful, let me see you. Let me watch you fall apart for me."
Emma came tumbling over the edge with his name on her lips, the fireworks behind her eyes lighting up brighter than the ones in the sky. The cries she couldn't keep silent were drowned out by the medley of the finale, fireworks shooting up into the sky in a vibrant display of color and sound that lit up the field and everyone on it. Emma knew Killian was timing his relentless assault of her heat with the finale, because every time she thought he was about to let her come down, another round of fireworks would burst into the air and he would renew his efforts. She stayed riding high on her orgasm for what felt like forever before darkness finally overtook her.
When she came back to awareness it was to the hard planes of Killian's chest under her cheek and hands. She realized that he must have pulled her toward him in the aftermath, letting her use him as a pillow. The blanket still covered them, hiding her state of undress from the passing crowds of people now leaving the field with their own blankets and chairs.
"Enjoy the fireworks, love?" He asked, a cocky grin spread across his face.
Killian's fingers smoothed their way up and down her back, the edges of them dipping into her muscles in a way that had her trembling and pliant all at once.
"Immensely," She replied, voice just a little hoarse. Killian's grin only widened at the sound, and Emma half-heartedly slapped a hand against his chest at the expression, ducking her head under his chin.
"There aren't any more fireworks displays any time soon, are there?" Killian asked. Emma didn't need to look at him to know his eyebrows were probably waggling suggestively, and she smiled to herself.
"Well, we might have to go to France for it, but Bastille Day is coming up soon."
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