But there is good stuff apart from spoiler Captain Swan intercation ;-).
Summary: Emma Swan returns to her birthplace, Storybrooke, in search of a fresh start after a life marked by abandonment and betrayal. After a year there, she finds the stability she needed and also the possibility of learning about one of her passions, photography. Killian Jones, a former British war reporter with a tragic past, establishes himself in the same town as an instructor of photography, following in the footsteps of his best friends, the Nolans. What will happen when their paths cross? Will their common passion for photography help them heal old wounds?
I missed my original posting date but it’s still October and this is my contribution for @cscocktoberfest! Another extra scene in the BtH-verse, where Princess Emma finds a very interesting (cough*dirty*cough) book on the shelf in the captain’s quarters and has some questions about some unfamiliar words that Killian is all too happy to answer ; )
“Aye, love?” he answered without looking up, grease pencil in hand as he marked a port on the map in front of him and measured the distance from their current position, doing sums in his head and somewhat distracted by a particularly tricky bit of calculation.
“What does it mean when a randy young lad is secretly polishing his knob?”
“It means…what?”
The figures he’d painstakingly laboured over for the better part of an hour all flew out of his mind and her words lodged there instead while his head jerked up and he met Emma’s curious gaze across the cabin. She was sitting in her chair with a book in hand, skirts spilling over the sides and her ankles crossed, tucked away demurely underneath the seat and looking the very picture of a well-bred lady.
“After spying on the chambermaid in her bath, the randy young lad retires to his master’s empty study to polish his knob with renewed vigour. I’m guessing from the context that the author did not mean the knob on the door? And when he finishes, he gives a loud groan that almost rouses the whole household and hides the evidence in a handkerchief. The evidence of what?”
Killian blinked at that, the pencil going as limp in his hand as presumably the randy young lad’s knob did when he was done, slack-jawed and feeling that he probably bore more than a passing resemblance to a startled codfish at the moment. When he finally managed to find his voice it came out much higher than normal as he squeaked out, “What on earth are you reading?”
Set ambiguously in the 1920′s-1940′s in a world supposedly without magic, Detective Jones of Boston PD is a broken man with little ore than liquor to keep him going. When a strange string of murders and ominous rumors about a new King of crime bring him face to face with fairytales, Killian is anything but ready to meet, “The Swan”.
Winter fell swiftly over Boston, blankets of snow on cars and streets that kept even the hardiest indoors. Killian and Emma fared slightly better, trudging through drifts to get into the warmth of each other’s beds or Faemarket’s perpetually sunny courtyard.
The link grew stronger between them and Emma used it to her advantage, leaving Killian trying to hide the flush he felt at Emma tormenting him as he booked intakes or checked on anyone in the drunk tank. Killian tried to push Emma with long strokes of his tongue through what must be a glistening and ready quim, but Emma twisted him in ways that left him wrung out without being actually sated. Her song lit his blood to fire, and it refused to cool until he was buried in her fully.
“At last my love has come along
My lonely days are over and life is like a song, oh yeah
At last the skies above are blue
My heart was wrapped up clover the night I looked at you
I found a dream that I could speak to
A dream that I can call my own
I found a thrill to press my cheek to
A thrill I’ve never known, oh yeah
You smiled, you smiled oh and then the spell was cast
Summary: When there’s only two Whovians in the bar on Halloween, it’s inevitable that they’ll meet. And flirt. And have sex in a closet. Unlike the TARDIS, it’s actually not any bigger on the inside.
A/N: Just some Whovian fun in honor of @cscocktoberfest. And because I love Thirteen even if I’m way behind on watching. Lots of Doctor Who references lay ahead but It should be enjoyable even if you’re not a fan. Allons-y!
Emma hadn’t planned for her night to go this way. It wasn’t at all what she thought would happen when she agreed to go out for Halloween, and honestly, she might not have if she’d known it would happen.
What was that saying, though? “We’re all stories in the end; just make it a good one.”
Well, this one—and the man she was presently making out with in a lonely hallway at the Rabbit’s Hole—was shaping up to be a great one.
She’d noticed him right away from across the bar. It was hard not to, really, when they both stood out from a crowd that was filled with bro-dudes being bro-dudes and girls dressed as all manner of sexy somethings. Even Emma’s friends fit the mold—Mary Margaret and David were a sexy Snow White and her equally attractive (and scantily clad) Prince Charming, and Elsa was a sexy…well, Elsa.
So the fact that he wasn’t topless, or dressed as something idiotic or offensive (like Skeleboner, ugh—she had to fend off one of those just to get a drink) stood out like a beacon. She hadn’t even seen his face, but she could already tell he wasn’t one of those guys.
And that was partly because she’d recognize his costume anywhere. While there were a lot of costumes that mandated a suit, there weren’t a whole lot of brown pinstriped ones in pop culture.
Then her friends called her back, and their drinks were up, and she lost sight of the man in the throngs of people. Damn.
She tried to cast aside her disappointment as she dodged the douchebags through the crowd. That wasn’t why she was here—she was just having some fun with her friends while her son was out trick-or-treating with his. (And maybe attempting to reclaim some of her lost youth, after spending the bulk of hers raising Henry, who had looked way too grown in his Ghostbusters getup tonight.)
But, damn, did his shoulders fill out that jacket well, and it hugged his trim form perfectly. And what she could tell from the back of his head, his hair looked like it would feel great between her fingers. Granted, she was still imagining his front as David Tennant, so he might be letdown there—few guys stood a chance next to him.
Still, she was curious. And, glancing down at her own trench coat, they kind of went together.
Once she got back to her friends, Mary Margaret and Elsa decided that they really just wanted to dance, so the dance floor it was; she and Elsa danced together to avoid having to look at the sloppy makeouts from Mary Margaret and David. Her eyes scanned the crowd to see if she catch a glimpse of that suit, or even a man with dark hair and the glasses she noticed propped on his ears, but her search came up empty.
At some point, the True Love couple headed home to get some “privacy”, but Emma and Elsa weren’t quite ready yet. Call her obsessed, but Emma really wanted to find this guy. They both needed some water first, so Elsa headed back to their table while Emma went to the bar.
Though it was later in the evening, the place was still packed, so she squeezed into an empty spot and waited for the overworked barkeep to make his way over. She cast a few glances around to see if her mystery man was nearby, but still no luck. So she pulled her lone prop out of her pocket and fiddled with it while she waited.
Another person came up to the bar and took the empty space next to her, but she was too busy playing with the sound effects on her toy to really notice—at least, not until he spoke.
“Well, it looks like I’m not the only 10 in the room.”
She rolled her eyes at the dumb pickup line, even if his British accent was a bit enticing. “Please,” she started. “I’m a 13,” she threw back as she turned to face him—but then anything else she could have said got caught in her throat.
hiya, kids! happy halloween eve, here’s a little captain swan cocktoberfest offering for you. remember to be safe tomorrow–use protection when you fornicate in the moonlight when the veil is thinnest!
let’s bring things back to the good ole days–i’ve returned to the “a hard man is good to find” aka BDJ universe for this one. if graphic smut ain’t your thing, skip this one.
Well, she tried to. Unfortunately, her stupid friends were sitting there with her at the bar.
“Yo, Em,” Ruby said. “Someone is texting you.”
“Nope,” Emma said with a tight smile. She knew who it was, and she didn’t want to hear it. Or read it. Face to face only. “It’s just the reminder beep. He sent it a while ago, but I haven’t looked yet. Girls’ night,” she explained weakly, waving her drink at her friends by way of explanation.
“Yeah, but it could be a dick pic. I’m convinced he keeps sending them after all this time because he knows we’re all gonna see it. That pretty boy of yours is an exhibitionist.” Ruby set her drink down and leaned over, grabbing for Emma’s phone, but Emma swung her arm out of reach. Unfortunately, she swung it right toward Mer, who was there in a pinch, snatching the phone and shouting, “a-ha!” with a smile.
cshappybeginning 