Sleep deprived smut writing is my favourite thing to do :)

…

Wrap Around Your Dreams

…

The bed is cold when she wakes up and she sighs because she knows exactly where the warmth from the other half of the bed has gone. She wraps herself in one of the blankets from the top of her bed and pads her way down the stairs and into the living room of the loft, searching for the pirate she knows fell asleep next to her only hours before.

Just as suspected, he's curled up on the couch, a cushion under his head, a small patchwork blanket barely covering his long form.

Her heart jumps a little and her stomach sinks whenever this happens, because it's always the same. She wakes up alone, she asks him to come back to bed and he listens, curling back around her into sleep. On the outside it doesn't seem like the sort of thing to have a problem with but, at first, she had just assumed he was trying to be a gentleman. Now she knows, by the way he comes back to bed with her, that his problem isn't with trying to maintain her long gone virtue, so it must be that he simply has a problem with her.

And, she can't lie, that hurts.

"Killian," she whispers, crouching down near his head and letting her fingertips stroke through his unkempt hair, "Come back to bed."

He stirs, tilting his head into her touch and pressing his lips against her wrist, "Of course, darling."

And even though he says it like he loves her, as they walk back upstairs, she still has doubts.

…

She stays awake as long as possible the next night, pretending to be asleep but just silently waiting for the moment he bails on her. She can't help but feel resentful towards him for it, having spent the majority of her life just waiting for people to disappoint her. She'd thought she was done with that, done with waiting for pain.

His arm stays firmly wrapped around her, his legs intertwined with hers and she fights the sleep with everything she has only giving in at dawn to a dreamless slumber. When she wakes a couple of hours later, the sun high in the sky, Killian's arms are still around her waist and she smiles. But the happiness only lasts until the next night when at 2am Emma wakes to a cold bed and, this time, doesn't even bother to collect the pirate from the couch.

…

He looks tired at breakfast and her first instinct is to think, "Good," because sleeping on the couch in her parent's loft has to be taking a toll and maybe he'll finally face his problems with her rather than continually running from them (and yes, she knows it's ironic that she's the one getting antsy about running from problems.)

He smiles when she sits does next to him, leaning in to kiss her good morning. But she leans back from him, putting her hand up to push against his chest.

The smile vanishes, quickly replaced by a frown, "What's wrong?"

She shouldn't be so short with him, but she finds herself saying, "Why don't you tell me?" while standing back up and walking over to the other side of the table. If she's going to be strong, she needs some distance because damn him and his allure.

"To what are you referring?" he asks, honestly perplexed. She can see the truth in his eyes and realises that he sincerely has no idea what he's doing to her.

Softening her words, she takes a seat still on the opposite side of the table to him, "Why won't you sleep with me?"

It speaks volumes that he doesn't even go for the obvious innuendo, instead answering her with a serious, "It's not you, darling."

And this time she can see the lie in his eyes, feel it in his words.

She sighs and it hurts like hell as she quietly gets back to her feet, turning on her heal and walking towards the door. "You know what? How about you come find me when you're ready to tell me the truth?"

"Emma," he tries, standing up and following her to the door. But it's already closed behind her.

…

He finds her at the sheriff's station later in the day, walking in with a loud, "I do want to sleep with you, Swan."

But before he can continue that thought, he's met by a scoff from Grumpy, who is sitting in the holding cell in the far corner, "I do not need to be privy to this conversation."

Emma purses her lips, rolling her eyes towards the dwarf, "You want to start brawls in bars, this is where you end up." She turns her head back towards Killian, eyes cold, "That being said, you can't just come in here and interrupt my work day." She knows she told him to come find her, but she didn't think it would be this fast. She thought he'd want to think about it before he broke her heart. Because that's surely what he is here to do. He wants to sleep with her, but…

There is always a but.

"Just…come into my office," she requests, standing up from the deputy's desk and leading the way behind the glass wall.

Killian closes the door behind him with a soft click and, when he faces Emma again, he finds her face to be utterly dejected and miserable. She raises her arms in a shrug before leaning against the edge of her desk. "Well go on then – get it over with."

It's obvious to Killian now that Emma is expecting the worst and he wishes that he'd never given her a reason to hold such doubts. "I'm not ending us," he says, stepping closer to her, "far from it, in fact."

She frowns, "Then why can't you stand to be near me?"

He chews his lip and scratches the back of his neck, closing the space between them with a couple more steps, "Darling, you dream rather loudly."

It doesn't hit her at first just what he is implying but, as the memories of her dreams over the past couple of weeks start rushing in, her eyes widen with realisation, "Oh god."

He smiles with an embarrassed duck of his head, "The sounds you make, lass… I was merely trying to maintain a safe distance."

She shakes her head, the images flashing before her eyes, the way his hand and hook had played over her body. They're yet to have sex and she'd be lying if she didn't say it has been a while. Her mind has obviously been going into overload to compensate for her needs.

"So you really were just being a gentleman," she wonders aloud, thinking back to her first thoughts of why he must have been leaving her bed.

He leans the rest of the way in, hand and hook resting on either side of her thighs, "I am always a gentleman, darling."

It feels easier now, the stresses of what their relationship is gone from her mind in a matter of seconds, "You don't have to be."

She shifts just slightly so that their hips bump and align, her chest brushing his as her hand snakes its way up to grab the charms on his necklace.

Then, through the walls of glass, comes a muffled yell about releasing the prisoner before getting it on in a see-through room and Emma sighs as she pulls away and ducks under Killian's arm to go and be sheriff. Every cell in her body is straining towards the pirate as she leaves and she turns back once more, eyeing his clearly aroused form very obviously, "See you tonight."

…

They see each other once more during the day, an unexpected moment of shared disappointment. David had phoned Emma on his way to the hospital with a very sick sounding Neal. "I can't do the graveyard shift tonight," he had told her, "Maybe Hook can help out."

She knows her father doesn't have a problem with her dating the pirate now but, sometimes, it really is a chore to believe it. She catches Killian just outside the door to the station, not wanting to cause another scene in front of Leroy. Their bodies collide as their lips meet in a heated frenzy of lust and need. Her back hits the wall behind her and she moans when his knee presses between her legs.

It takes every ounce of his strength to pull away, promising that he'll keep the town in order while she sleeps.

"I wish you could be there," she says, her words laden with meaning now that she knows what he has had to sit through for the past few weeks.

He brushes his lips over her temple, whispering, "I'll be in your dreams, no doubt."

…

David comes to relieve him in the early hours of the morning, "Mary Margaret is still at the hospital with Neal, but he's going to be okay. We're still new to this parenting thing, but apparently it's normal to panic over a raised temperature."

Killian claps him on the shoulder, "Call if you need me, mate." And he tries not to make it look as though he's rushing out of there.

It's completely dark inside the loft when he arrives, but he navigates the place as though it's his own, making his way past Henry's bedroom, thanking the stars that the boy is staying with Regina tonight, and opening the door to Emma's room.

And oh he is glad that David came in for the remainder of his shift.

Her voice is low and needy, his name burning through the air and setting him on fire without a touch. "Killian," she breathes, "Mmm, just there."

He smiles, stalking towards the bed, his jacket hitting the floor and his shirt coming over his head. "Emma," he says, as he kneels on the edge of the bed, leaning down to whisper hotly in her ear, "darling, I think it's time to wake up."

The blankets are pooled around her, over a leg and some of her waist, but he pulls them away, his hand lightly brushing over the skin of her stomach where her shirt has ridden up. She arches into his soft caress and he chuckles in her ear, nipping at the lobe with his teeth. "Show me what you're dreaming."

Her eyes are still closed, but he can sense the exact moment that she becomes aware of his presence. She wraps a cool hand around his wrist and brings his hand higher under her shirt until he is cupping her breast. Leaving him to do as he pleases (and oh he so pleases), she uses the same hand to grasp his hook, bringing the cool curve of metal to the centre of her, grinding against its smoothness. He kisses along her jawline and down her neck, meeting his hand on her chest and biting at her nipple through the thin cotton of her t-shirt.

At that, her eyes fly open and she feels her body come alive, realising that she's not dreaming and she can enjoy this on a completely different level.

She pulls his hook up a little, slipping the sharp point under the waistband of her pants and tugging downwards until the material rips. "I thought you were a pirate," she encourages as she runs her fingernails up and down his bare chest.

That stirs him and he tears the rest of the material from her legs while his hand squeezes at her breast.

"What did I do next?"

Her eyes meet his and he swears his heart actually stops for a second at the desire in her green irises. She shifts her body up the bed and pushes him down slightly and he understands very quickly, smirking up at her and flicking his tongue out to mark a train down her belly. His hand comes from her breast and rests on her thigh as they fall open to him.

Her moans in her dreams are nothing compared to the sounds coming from her as he dips his tongue into her wetness, licking a line up to her clit as he circles around and sucks in. Her breaths are nearly pants as he works her into a state of bliss, his middle finger sliding into her easily, teasing her walls.

"Mm close," she murmurs, her voice still heavy with sleep.

He pulls back a moment, looking up at her perfect face filled with pleasure, "Let go, darling. Come for me." He lets his finger slide in and out of her at a lazy pace, but can feel the tension building within her body. The way she arches off the bed has him harder than he's ever been and he blows out a warm breath against her core as she comes undone in an intense wave, her inner walls fluttering around his finger as warmth washes through her.

He's fast with getting his pants off, but it's only her insistence that has him slipping into her almost immediately.

"Emma," he breathes and she smirks up at him.

"No more waiting," she answers, shifting her hips downwards and then back up.

His breathing is shallow as he falls forward, bracing himself on his left arm as his right hand comes back to her breast, kneading it lightly in the same rhythm as his thrusts begin. His forehead rests against hers, breath coming out in gentle puffs against her lips, leaving her mouth positively watering for his kiss. And when he delivers, she is far from disappointed.

"More," she pants when they break to breathe in. He happily obliges, speeding his thrusts and letting his hand slip from her breast down her rib and belly and to the peak of her pleasure, thumb circling her clit in an alluring pattern that has her feeling wild and dangerous. She bites his lip and he retaliates with relentless kisses as her legs wrap around his waist and pull him to his deepest.

"Fuck," he growls, feeling her body clenching around him, "Come now, Emma. I need you to come now." And she does, propelling forward with force as he wraps his arm around her and pulls from her core, spilling across the tight skin of her stomach.

The tip of his cock brushes against her still sensitive core as she lays back down, sending a jolt of electricity through her and she has to smile.

"What?" he asks, leaning over to her bedside table to retrieve the tissues that he knows she keeps there.

She takes the squares from him, mopping at the sticky mess on her belly, leaning over to kiss him soundly, "So much better in reality."

…

Thoughts?