This is the result of a prompt from my wonderful dartie: Snowing's first night together in the castle after defeating King George and/or after banishing Regina. Pretty much Snowing porn, smut, sexytimes, whatever you want to call it. ;-D XD I hope that it's also humorous, I found myself laughing at certain points as I was writing it. Anywho. I hope you like it! :-D

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING! Shocking, yeah I know. XD

Thank you, Sassy, my dartie, for the prompt and for the edits and FANTASTIC suggestions! Especially the last part! ;-D


Snowing in the Kitchen

It was well after midnight, and all was quiet throughout the castle. George was safely locked away in their dungeons, no claim to the throne any longer. Regina had fled to her own castle, powerless to hurt either of them ever. For the first time in what felt like…forever Snow was safe, David was safe. No one to take them from each other again, especially with their official wedding only two weeks away. Peace finally reigned.

David couldn't sleep. He finally didn't have to worry about someone coming after the woman he loved and he couldn't get a wink of sleep.

Grumbling, the prince threw aside his covers, feet landing on the cold stone floor with consecutive thumps, grimacing at the sting from the temperature. He quickly yanked his boots on, but they provided only marginal improvement against the chill. Standing and heading to the door, David grabbed the shirt he'd dropped over the back of a chair and pulled it on before leaving his quarters.

The halls were empty save for the occasional guard, each snapping to attention as he passed. David bowed his head to each of them in acknowledgment, still uncomfortable with the formalities that accompanied this life he'd first been forced into and had now accepted as his own. Part of him was constantly tempted to grab Snow and just leave, escape from all of this mess into the woods and live a normal life, just the two of them and the children they would have–David knew they both desperately wanted children. But at the same time…a part of him now felt the…desire to uphold this duty, the position others had insisted he and Snow take. Part of him…actually felt…right leading these people with Snow. He wished that he didn't have to pretend to be George's son, didn't have to go by a name not his own. But he supposed that it was a small price to pay to be with the woman he loved and for them to be truly safe.

Finally, after taking two wrong turns and 15 minutes to backtrack from those, David arrived at his destination, the kitchen. Maybe something hot to drink would help him relax.

The moment he stepped into the room he knew that wasn't going to happen.

Snow turned from the stove where she was bent over a pot and grinned upon seeing that it was him. "Charming." Her smile became teasing. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

He chuckled softly as he closed the door behind him, making sure it was bolted shut; he hadn't had a moment alone with his love since they met up with their army after their impromptu wedding and his mother's death…since their wedding night. There was no way he wanted someone walking in on them when he finally had her to himself. "Couldn't."

"Me either." She bit her lip, the look in her eyes a coy come-hither, before returning to stirring the pot.

David let his eyes wander over his wife's form–the only ones who knew about the wedding were the two of them and Lancelot, preferring to save themselves from the wrath of Snow's best friend, Red, who'd kill them if she knew they'd already gotten married…without her. He had to content himself with only calling her his wife in the privacy of his thoughts and when he had a rare minute alone with Snow. With everyone else they had to just refer to each other as fiancés. But Snow was very much his wife in David's mind and he her husband, and one night together in his mother's cabin certainly wasn't enough for the newlywed couple. And in this moment Snow was far too tempting, thin lace nightgown and robe clinging to every curve and feet bare under the hem–he made a note to ask her why she was walking around the chilly castle without slippers.

He moved to stand behind her, hands closing around her waist and face nuzzling into her hair. She grinned, leaning back into him and tilting her head to the side in encouragement. David's lips pressed just behind her ear, swirling his tongue over the sensitive area.

"Charming," she breathed, hand reaching to cup the back of his head.

His hand skimmed around her waist until he found the knot of her dressing robe, easily undoing it. That hand slipped under it to cup her breast through the fabric of her nightgown, while the other tugged the white material down Snow's shoulder, trailing open-mouthed kisses over the newly exposed skin.

"David," she gasped before continuing, "if we get caught…cook will kill us." The moans that interspersed the sentence undermined any tone of protest in her voice along with how she arched into his fingers stroking her side.

"Door's locked," he informed her succinctly, pulling her away from the stove. David drew her robe off and let it fall at their feet, his mouth closing over her earlobe.

Going so long without her husband beside her at night, Snow was as frustrated as he. With another moan, Snow spun in his arms to press her lips to his, their tongues immediately tangling together, her hands furling in his shirt.

David's fingers dug into her hips as he walked her back to the counter and lifted her to sit atop it, Snow let out a muffled giggle as he set her down.

"Cook is really going to have our heads if she finds out about this…" she laughed against his lips.

He chuckled, stepping between her legs. "I really can't find it in me to care."

Snow caught the untucked tail of his shirt and yanked it over his head, tossing it aside–they probably should've paid more attention to where it landed, but neither really cared. Her nails scraped up his chest and over his shoulders to press her palms into his back. Her head fell back with a sigh as David's mouth moved to the hollow of her throat, tongue flicking over the skin. She locked her ankles at his lower back, drawing him fully against her and eliciting a low groan.

Her husband pushed the straps of her nightgown aside, Snow shrugging them off to hang loosely on her upper arms then sliding them down entirely to pool at her waist and leaving her upper-half bare. His mouth closed over her exposed breast, she cried out, fingernails digging into his scalp and shoulder blades. Her legs automatically constricted, hips rolling against his; David's grip on her waist tightened almost painfully, surely leaving bruises, but damned if either of them could find it in them to care.

With fumbling hands David tugged the skirt of her gown up to bunch around her hips, his fingers sought out the dark curls between her thighs, sliding between the moist folds there. Gasping, Snow arched into his touch, her nails were probably leaving gouges in his back though he hardly noticed the sting. Her hands went to the fastenings of his breeches, undoing them as quickly as she could and reaching past the fabric to stroke his erection, his breath hissed out against her shoulder. Neither was feeling particularly patient tonight, desire having simmered for too long unquenched. David gripped her thigh, helping her guide him inside her, moans of mutual satisfaction escaping them both. He gritted his teeth to restrain himself, trying to give her a chance to adjust and to go slow, but Snow was having none of it.

"Charming," she growled, rolling her hips, heels pressing into the small of his back, "stop being noble."

That was all it took, hands tight on her hips he thrust into her, loving the moans and cries that escaped her, David covered her mouth with his to capture those sounds. This wasn't like their wedding night when they'd been more tentative, slow and cautious their first time, and exploratory and languid the second. No, this was something much more…raw and desperate, rougher and unadorned.

Snow's hands fumbled along the cabinets over her head until they found the top and gripped it tightly to help brace herself. Attention drawn by the way her actions had lifted her breasts, David lowered his mouth to her nipple again, her head fell back with a cry. One of Snow's hands released its hold on the cabinet to drag across his back, leaving long red streaks from her nails.

He reached between them, thumb applying pressure to the tiny bundle of nerves where they were joined, and her inner muscles clenched around him with a shout of his name, the spasms sending him over the edge, a cry of her name muffled against her breast.

David leaned all of his weight on one hand against the counter, the other wrapped around Snow's waist with her draped over him, arms around his shoulders, their breaths coming in pants.

"That was…different," Snow managed to comment lightly, breathing still labored.

"Yeah." His head remained resting on her shoulder, a grin lifting his lips. "But amazing."

He could feel her grin curving against his neck. "Definitely amazing." After a heartbeat, her head lifted slightly, a frown forming on her face. "What's that smell?"

David forced his own head up to sniff. Something was burning.

Both looked at the stove. His shirt, tossed so carelessly aside earlier, had landed on the rack of cooking tools right over the stove, a sleeve dangling a couple of inches above the pot of milk Snow had been heating up, fire licking up the fabric.

With a curse they sprang apart, David snatching the shirt from the rack and throwing it on the floor, stomping on it to put out the flames. Snow, one hand clutching her nightgown to keep it from falling off entirely, grabbed the smoking pot of boiled-down, burnt and smoking remnants of milk, throwing it into the tub of dishwater. Steam hissed loudly, billowing up from the metal tub. David had managed to smother the fire, small curls of smoke drifting up from his charred, ruined garment. They stood there for several moments in the now silent and still kitchen, their gazes turned to each other after a few moments.

Snow's other hand thoughtlessly rose to grip her nightgown, bringing the fabric up to cover her chest. Embarrassment reddening his cheeks, David reached down to refasten his breeches; it took a few heartbeats before he could look back at his wife. She was holding her nightgown all the way up to her nose, hiding her mouth, but not at all disguising the laughter flickering in her eyes or the shaking of her shoulders. A grin lifted his lips and laughter rumbled from him, slowly at first but with increasing strength as Snow audibly joined him. She moved right into his arms, laughing helplessly against his chest, still holding her gown up.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this in the kitchen ever again?" David offered between guffaws.

Snow tried to swallow back her laughter but only managed to do so long enough to say, "Either that or not have the stove burning?"

Shoulders still shaking with mirth, her husband lay his cheek atop her head, hands lovingly stroking up and down her back. "Quite a christening for the castle."

She snorted, starting a new round of laughter, her emerald eyes lifted to meet his cerulean ones, adoration shining in their depths. "I love you, Charming."

Grinning at her, his thumbs caressed her cheeks. "I love you too, Snow."

He lowered his mouth to hers in a sweet, loving kiss. One of her hands rose, fingers pressing against the scar on his chin. This right here, the laughter and love, the beautiful, sassy woman in his arms…this was his eternity. Their lips parted so that they could rest their foreheads together, eyes closed in blissful happiness.

"Now," he remarked amusedly, "all we have to do is figure out how to explain why I'm returning to my room without a shirt."

Snow lifted her head, mischief glinting in those green eyes. "Who said you were going back to your room?"


So, did you guys like it? ;-D It was…quite a trip to write. XD Thank you for reading! :-D

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