initiala:

xemmaloveskillianx:

The Pirate and the Princess – Part 1

A collection of smutty one-shots started for @cscocktoberfest about Princess Emma and Captain Killian ‘Hook’ Jones.

So, I started this two years ago with a friend who is no longer in the fandom and it was going to be just a smutty Part 1 and Part 2 thing, but then plot snuck its way in somehow and here we are. Btw, I totes blame @initiala for that because she just had to go encourage a story line while she was being a BETA and just… it’s all her fault really. Just like this event… ALL. HER. FAULT. ;-p

Archive

Though
the night air is brisk, Princess Emma finds herself sweating underneath her
cloak. It’s the sweat of excitement and the sweat of fear all mixed together,
because while this isn’t her first time sneaking out of the palace, she’s
always worried it will be the time she gets caught. Slipping past the iron
gate, she hears Sleepy’s light snores before she even rounds the corner and
though the dog her uncle Graham insisted be there to keep watch, as well, is
awake, she has a treat at the ready to keep him from barking. He lifts his head
as she approaches, his white fur almost appearing to glow in the fire light
while his nostrils twitch. He’s gentle as he takes the treat from her hand and
with a pat on the head, Emma walks off into the night.

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look, I happily accept blame if we get more of this deliciousness

As Soon Kindle Fire With Snow

profdanglaisstuff:

Here is my contribution to @cscocktoberfest, which I was really excited to write. Then this happened: 

Self: I’m just going to write a little one-shot. It’ll be great. 

Universe: 

image

Self: Just a little smutty snapshot. 

Universe: Ha. Hahaha. 

Self: Maybe seven, eight thousand words. 

Universe: Hohohohahahaha

Self: It won’t be angsty, either, just fluffy smut

Universe: Bwahahahahahahahaha

Self: Stop laughing, universe, I can do it!

Universe: *wipes tears from eyes*

Self: Look, I’m doing it! 

Universe: …

Self: *writes*

Self: *writes more*

Self: *writes more still*

Self: *realises she has 3,000 words and they haven’t even banged yet* 

Self: *thinks about all that still remains to be written*

Self: Oh. 

Universe: You sweet summer child. 

So yeah. This went from a 7,000 word one-shot to what will (I hope) be concluded in two parts. Of ~10,000 words each. Dammit, universe. 

Anyway, here it is! 

Summary: Emma Swan lives alone and likes it that way. Still, she has needs. Needs that since she moved to the small town of Storybrooke have decidedly not been met. Then one snowy afternoon Killian Jones appears at her door, and Emma realises that he can give her everything she needs… and more. 

Rating: E for sex and language and sex. Did I mention there’s sex?

Tagging those lovely people who have supported my work before, please let me know if you want to be tagged in the future! @wellhellotragic @teamhook @kmomof4 @let-it-raines @resident-of-storybrooke @rouhn @deathbycaptainswan

Also on AO3


Part 1:

When Emma moved in to the old blue house on the beach, the locals warned her that there was more to the place than met the eye. It was a big, creaky pile of a house, with the original weathered clapboard and the original oak floorboards and what Emma had been informed was the original cat. 

“That house is almost 200 years old,” she’d protested to the adamant fishermen in the local diner. “It cannot possibly be the same cat.” 

“Always been a cat in that house,” said one, and seeing Emma’s expression hastened to add, “Always been a black cat with a white tip on the tail. You can’t tell me that marking’s so common that it ain’t the same cat.”

“But how—” Emma had begun, then seeing their stubborn faces decided just to concede. Let them think what they liked. It hardly mattered to her. 

The house suited her, though it was far too big for one person. It was proud and lonesome, much like herself, standing just at the tip of the cape, far enough from the village to afford the solitude she craved but not so far that she couldn’t get takeout from the diner and have it still be warm when she got home. 

“That house likes you,” declared Granny of the eponymous Granny’s Diner. “Good thing too, it ain’t kind to those it don’t like.” 

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artistic-writer:

“Are you sure it’s set up right?”  Killian worried.

“I’m sure,” Emma purred into his ear, not a shred of clothing on her body as she pressed herself to his back.  She reached around his front, hooking her thumb into the waitband of his underwear and pulling it down a little, the trail of hair leading down to his cock tickling her skin.  “Don’t worry so much,” Emma chided him gently, resting her chin to his shoulder.

“I want this one to come out perfectly,” Killian told her darkly, catching her gaze before wrapping a strong arm around her thigh, holding her knee to his body and trapping her arm agaisnt his stomach.

“Why?” Emma enquired, wrapping her arm over his shoulder and clutching his chest, her nails digging into his pec the way she knew he liked.

“Because this one is for me,” Killian purred.  He gave her leg a squeeze and the flash went off, the whirr of the shutter not even over before he turned, picked her up in his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist with a growl.

“Killian!” Emma shrieked, clutching his shoulders and holding herself to him so tightly her breasts flattened to his chest.  “What’s gotten into you?” She laughed playfully, her fingers carding into the hair at the back of his head.

“You,” he said with a possesive growl.  He tossed her to their bed, watching her bounce with a smirk before walking to the dresser to grab the camera and quickly returning to her side.  He already had an erection, the tent in his tight boxers making Emma’s skin hum. “Now tell me, Swan,” he droned huskily, inspecting the device and raising an eyebrow at her.  “Can this record video too?” 

Photographer!Emma and Subject!Killian Extra Scene for @cscocktoberfest

artistic-writer:

“Emma, what the-” Killian gasped, grabbing a towel and covering himself as the flash of light went off in his face.

“Relax, Killian, I’m just taking a photo.”  Emma grinned, lowering the device, frowning as she scrolled through the last photos and shook her head in frustration.

“But I’m in the shower, love,” Killian objected again, watching her with a stunned look on his face.  He was halfway through his bathing, soaking wet and now his privacy had been invaded for what he can only assume was Emma’s little homework project for her community college course.  Apparently, she had always wanted to be a photographer.

“I know, but I have to get a shot for my photo project. Now give me a smile.”

Killian did not smile, instead giving her a sultry glare that made her core clench, even through the lens.  The towel clutched to his modesty was soaking wet now, water trickling from his elbow when he scrubbed his hand over his face.

“Or that works just as well,” Emma gulped, her voice stolen by his attractiveness.

“Well, if you are going take a photo,” Killian smirked, lifting his leg onto the small shelf in their shower cubicle and looking at her over his shoulder.  “We best make it a good one.”

Photographer!Emma and Subject!Killian 1/3 for @cscocktoberfest

artistic-writer:

“Is this one for you too?” Killian asked softly, a chuckle falling from his lips.

Emma nodded, beaming a smile at him laced with seduction behind her beautiful green eyes.  Killian dipped his head, a slight blush on the apple of his cheeks as he licked at his bottom lips nervously.

“Well then,” he announced darkly, still wet hair flopping over his brow.  “Best we make it a good one.”

He perched himself on the edge of their window, teasing Emma with the threat of opening his towel.  He opened one side and then the other, relishing in the salacious groan that tumbled from her lips immediately after the shutter click.

“Did you get the shot?” Killian asked her gently, a coy smirk on his lips as she put her camera down on the bedside table and sauntered towards the light flooded window.

“Not convinced I care,” Emma shrugged playfully, her fingers tracing the definition of his forearms, skimming down to his hands where he clutched the towel.  She bit her bottom lip as she watched him like prey, dark eyes fixed on his as she toyed with the fluffy white towel in her hands and heard him gasp in excitement.

“When do you have class?” killian whispered, his lips almost touching hers and her entire body pressed to the dampness of his chest.  Emma’s fingers carded through his chest hair, her teeth biting her bottom lip as she looked up to him through her eyelashes and he grinned boyishly.  “Do you care?”

Emma shook her head, whipping the towel from his waist and capturing his lips for a kiss that told him exactly how much she cared.

Photographer!Emma and Subject!Killian 3/3 for @cscocktoberfest

artistic-writer:

Emma almost dropped her camera when Killian suggested a new pose, and then proceeded to turn and face her.  

“Hows this, Swan?” Killian purred, head lowered and eyes looking up at her through a hooded stare.  He was distracting, Emma couldn’t deny that, her fingers fumbling with the button on top of her DSLR and her throat drying like she had swallowed dust.

Maybe it was the steam in the room.  Maybe it was the way he clutched his towel to cover his cock, the droplets of water running down over his body and disappearing into the fabric of the towel.

“Uh, yeah,” Emma stammered, suddenly feeling a lot hotter than when she had entered the bathroom.  “Very nice,” she muttered allowed, the blush over her cheeks covered by the device pressed to her face.

“Do you think your class will want to see me in the shower?” Killian asked her dumbly, suddenly self-conscious.  

“Oh, these are for me,” Emma smiled to herself, the click of the shutter echoing in her ears.

Photographer!Emma and Subject!Killian 2/3 for @cscocktoberfest

wingedlioness:

The Hazards of Chaperoning.  AO3 , rated M/E, 3.3k

A follow up to That Tongue Should Be Outlawed, and as it’s a week from @brooke-to-broch‘s birthday, it’s for her again. And @cscocktoberfest of course. I finished it with a fever so ngl I didn’t end up editing or… anything.

***

It happened again, and more often than she’d admit even to herself. Emma couldn’t stop it. Henry’s teacher was just so

distracting.

There was that time he was snapping with the music, teaching the
kids how to hit their marks with the beat. All that did was draw her
attention to his hands, to his long fingers, and then she was spiraling,
imagining them on her,

in

her, and she couldn’t even look him in the eye later. Then she
tried waiting outside the doors, only for the asshole’s raw, beautiful
tenor to ring out into the hallway as he demonstrated whatever, and she
caught herself spiraling into another fantasy of slow dancing as he sang
into her ear. That one was more disturbing than the straight-up sex
ones. She could (kind of, not really) handle the lust, but the whole

dating

and

romance

daydreams had to go.

So no more waiting in the school. Not even Henry’s “subtle”
comments about how melancholy Mr. Jones seemed recently could get her
back in the auditorium. She waited for him in the car, behind a book or
her phone. If she couldn’t control her libido, she wasn’t going to give
it a chance.

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distant-rose:

Notes: Hi internet. I…um….I wrote porn. That’s the only way I can describe this. It’s just porn. No plot. Just straight up silly, slightly sentimental, married but totally in love Captain Swan porn. How did this happen? Well, I’m just blaming @initiala for this. It’s easier that way, especially this is a part of the @cscocktoberfest extravaganza. Special thank you to @optomisticgirl and @adira-tyree for listening to me whine about how terrible I am at smut writing. I couldn’t have done it without either of you. Special shout-out to Daniel for being cool about this nonsense and making me laugh and being the coolest about me writing about fictional characters banging and even using the phrase “Killian’s thundercock.” I will never be over it. You’re literally the best.
Summary:  Emma hates mornings. Killian loves them. Normally, he’s good about it, allowing her to sleep in to her hearts content. Though sometimes, he isn’t so mindful but rather insistent on changing her opinions on mornings.
Word Count: 2,500+
Rating: E

Emma Swan was not a morning person. In fact, she resented the very concept of mornings. Sleep had been an elusive throughout her life so she treasured it whenever she got it. She would laze for hours if she could get away with it, snuggled into her pillows and buried under layers upon layers of blankets. The very thought of waking up to the world, of leaving the warmth and comfort of her bed, was abhorrent and often those who woke her often ended up with a pillow to the face.

Including her husband…especially her husband.

Where Emma loathed mornings and was incapable of normal human interaction without a shower and at least three cups of coffee, Killian loved them. He had zero qualms with kicking off the bedclothes and starting bright and early. He was always inhumanly alert and up for anything. It stunned her that he was actually capable of forming complete sentences from the second he woke up.

His early morning energy was irritating but more often than not, he was a conscientious and courteous bedfellow. He was capable of being quiet and moving out of the bed carefully enough that she could ignore him and continue sleeping. More often than not, she would roll onto his unoccupied side of the bed, soaking in the heat left behind in sheets and continuing to doze throughout the morning while he showered and shaved. He would give her an hour or two to herself before chiding her gently and placing a cup of coffee under her nose in order to coax her out of bed without any bloodshed.

However, there were also mornings where he wasn’t so mindful but insistent on coming between her and her sleep. 

He often liked to claim that she needed to reevaluate her opinions on mornings and he was only trying to help her get a new perspective on them. He would roll her over and kiss her while she was barely coherent, ignoring her protests of morning breath and snarled hair. An uncoordinated but hard kick was often enough to keep him at bay and reclaim her place in dream land but sometimes she humored him.

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CS AU: Teacher’s Lounge

hollyethecurious:

image

CS AU: Teacher’s Lounge

Summary: She’s the English teacher. He’s the Math teacher. One afternoon in the teacher’s lounge, they become students of one another’s anatomy.

A/N: Another contribution for @cscocktoberfest. Thank you to all those who twisted my arm encouraged me to write a fic to accompany my September CS AU aesthetic. I hope it meets expectations! Much love to the fabulous @ilovemesomekillianjones for her awesome beta skills, and to my ladies @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, and @artistic-writer for enduring my whining and complaining.

Rated M (it’s cocktober, people…) / ~3700 words / Also available on ao3 and ff.net

Killian tapped his pencil impatiently against the table in front of him. The jitters of excited anticipation coursed through him as they always did on the first day of a new school year, despite the early hour required of all the returning teachers. Every year Principal Mills insisted on a staff meeting prior to the first bell, and this year was no exception. While he waited for the stragglers to file in so her majesty could commence with the standard greeting, expectations, and general arm twisting in recruiting advisors for as yet unassigned clubs and organizations, Killian sipped his coffee and perused the teacher’s lounge.

Nothing much had changed over the summer months. Same walls splashed with the school colors. Same large conference table, already adorned with fall decorations despite the sweltering heat still plaguing their little hamlet. The coffee maker was new, thank the gods, but that was the only change the room seemed to have undergone. Same chairs, same motivational posters, same sofa. Killian shifted in his chair as his thoughts took a hard (in more ways than one) turn at the memories the lounge sofa evoked. Memories of Emma Swan riding him into oblivion on the last day of school, right there in the teacher’s lounge during their final planning period together.

Emma Swan.

Storybrooke High’s most beloved English teacher, and the woman who had turned Killian’s entire world upside down when she’d join the staff three years ago. The woman currently sneaking through the door, her standard tendency to always run several minutes late, while trying to avoid detection from Principal Mills, who’d apparently started their meeting whilst Killian had been daydreaming.

A blush rushed up his neck at the realization that he’d been fantasizing to the point of discomfort in a room full of his colleagues, and the source of his infatuation. When her eyes met his from across the room, he could feel the flustered heat sweep across his face up to his ears, but he offered her a friendly smile; one she hesitantly returned, the sight of which made his heart flutter.

Killian heard little of what Principal Mills was saying. It was most likely the same speech she’d given to the faculty every year before, so he didn’t feel too guilty about not listening; instead choosing to return to the indulgence of visiting that afternoon forever seared in his memory.

They’d been dancing around their attraction for one another all year long. Sharing the same planning period, and being the only two faculty members to make use of the teachers’ lounge during their free hour had given them nine months of bantering, flirting, talking, and eye fucking. It was only a matter of time before the powder keg of sexual tension ignited, though neither of them had expected it to happen in the lounge of all places.

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