Emma was distracted. And staring. And it was kind of, sort of, maybe, totally obvious.
She shouldn’t have been. But she couldn’t really help it. Because those shorts were there, solely, to torture her. She was convinced.
And Killian absolutely, positively knew.
Rating: Like a high teen of straight up staring at thigh muscles.
Word Count: 6.2K LoL
AN: Ok. Ok. Ok. So this is equal parts the fault of @optomisticgirl and Team USA Hockey and Chris Kreider’s thighs. But there was a video and some, frankly, ridiculous shorts and B was like “You should write this” and made that absolutely fantastic art as incentive and like seriously look at Chris Kreider’s thighs. There are gifs. Anyway, Worlds was the gift that kept on giving and Chris Kreider did the patented “Killian Jones goal celebration” in the bronze medal game and the Google Doc name for this story was “Emma Loses Her Shit Over Killian’s Thighs.” I will eventually post all the other one shots I have written.
Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll.
It should not have been a problem.
It was…it was the worst thing she’d ever seen, really. And by worst, she obviously meant best because words seemed to have lost all of their meaning at some indeterminate point that morning and Emma wasn’t sure she’d taken a deep breath in, like, the last ten minutes.
She couldn’t stop staring. Her eyes were staring to water, but her eyes simply would not close or blink or do anything except gape her husband, and she kept licking her lips because her mouth was actually hanging open, and that might have just been her body’s innate reaction to try and get some goddamn oxygen in her lungs.
Which was, actually, kind of nice if she stopped to think about it.
baratheonpilled
titsay
