#cs halloween

[eastwesthomeisbest]

🎃 HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🎃

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@kmomof4 @snowbellewells @lifeinahole27 @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @resident-of-storybrooke

[hookedonapirate]

Swan-Jones Halloween

[allons-y-to-hogwarts-713]

CS Secret Santa 2020 (1/2)

Little Red Riding OH!

Summary: Emma’s friend Ruby convinces her to go to a costume party where she just so happens to be in matching costumes with non other the Killian Jones.

Hello, @everything-person!! It is I, your CS Secret Santa! Sorry I’m posting these a bit late. This is your first of two gifts. I had sooooo many ideas of things I wanted to make for you that I wasn’t sure where to start which made photo-searching a bit of a challenge without one specific direction to take, but then I found a few of your fics and got inspired. So here’s some fanart for your fanfic “Little Red Riding OH!“ I hope you like it! ❤️

Huge thanks to the mods of @cssecretsanta2020 for hosting this event again this year!

[darkcolinodonorgasm]

where we can gaze into the stars (1/1)

a/n: welp! After YEARS thinking about this fic... it’s HERE! HAPPY HALLOWEEN PEOPLE!!!

A bit of backstory: Hannah Alexander. Cosplayers know her the most, I just stumbled onto her page on DeviantArt once, and fell in love. A few years ago, she published her own version of Jack and Sally Skellington and I told myself “Sara, this is gonna be something CS”. I had every intention of having Emma as a cosplayer and Killian as an actor, but without an event, and even while I’m going through a writing slump, I managed to get it out of my system. And I’m so happy about it!!!

I have not seen Nightmare Before Christmas in soooooo long, but I did my best to research and quote it as much as I could. To better visualize their costumes, I advise you search the pics. So. Good.

I hope you’re alright, and I hope you enjoy ♥

Summary: Emma Swan loved Halloween. Mostly, she loved that she could finally be herself without being judged. With a solid plan to enjoy her weekend at a party in New York, she had no idea her life would forever change on the most magical night of the year.

read on ao3 - support me on Ko-Fi! ♥

Emma Swan loved Halloween.

She loved how everything turned black and orange around her aided by fall turning leaves yellow and tangerine.

She loved the fact that the smell of pumpkin filled the air and even Granny had bent to the demands of tourists asking for pumpkin spice lattes. Ruby had snickered when putting out the chalkboard stand sign, only to be relegated to dishwasher duties for a week.

She loved, despite the mess they left behind, the kids going crazy over spooky decorations and candies, mostly because she loved those sweets as much as them.

She loved that she could find new ways to decorate her house and garden - and thanks to TikTok, Instagram and Pinterest, her folder of ideas kept getting longer and longer each year.

Mostly, she loved that she could finally be herself without being judged - she already had enough of that for threehundred-sixtyfour or threehundred-sixtyfive days per year.

Being a cosplayer in a small town was, ironically enough, like being a healer in Salem in 1692. Not that she was considered a witch, though Leroy did ask her if he could cast a spell on Granny’s lasagne to make them edible. That hadn’t turned out well for the man.

No, Emma was what everyone called a weirdo, with her handsewn dark clothes and a camera hanging around her neck. And that didn’t even consider all those times when she set up cosplay photoshoot all around Storybrooke.

Alas, as much as she wished they did, cosplays didn’t put food in her mouth nor did they pay the bills. That was up to her career as a make-up artist, which was the reason why most of Storybrooke spotted her hauling a suitcase into her beloved yellow Bug, leaving Ruby in charge of the sweets she’d purchased for the kids.

Emma dreaded what she would find upon her return from New York, but for now, she would just try to enjoy the weekend, when witches would come out to waltz and pumpkins scream in the dead of night.

-/-

New York was cold, probably not as cold as Storybrooke, but Emma felt grateful for whoever had organized the party: space heaters had been placed outside, granting comfort to those who’d had enough of being stuffed inside among people they didn’t know and didn’t want to mingle with.

Emma sighed, glad that only few were brave enough to face the cold. Plus, the size of the penthouse terrace was impressive, capable of hosting a helipad, and helped her need to be alone.

Though the party had been for many make-up artists, many celebrities had turned up as well, sporting wonderful looks they had clearly paid for. It irked her, because they wouldn’t have been able to achieve them without a make-up artist there to do it for them. This party was supposed to be in their honour, not for famous people to flaunt looks they hadn’t spent hours or days on to enjoy.

Resisting the urge to stomp her foot, Emma marched to the railing, only to rapidly avert her path toward an outdoor stand where a man dressed like the horror version of Willy Wonka with purple bubbles scattered over his nose and cheeks marred with melting chocolate. His grin was horrifying, mostly because it resembled so much the one from the movie.

Too bad that can’t be Johnny Depp, Emma thought to herself, mirroring the guy’s smile.

«Good evenin’, sweet Sally. What do you crave tonight?»

Not for the first time that night, Emma was grateful for the body paint blocking the view of her blushing skin. The guy was totally flirting with her, but she doubted it would lead anywhere.

You’ve been out of that game for far too long. That reminder sounded very much like Ruby.

After a rapid look at the menu behind him, she said: «Hot chocolate with rum, whipped cream and cinnamon, please.»

«Any preference on the rum? I have one that smells like caramel,» he offered, pouring a few fingers in a shot glass before handing it to her. As he’d reassured her, the smell of caramel hit her nostrils and moved her stomach.

«Perfect,» Emma agreed, her eyes probably shaping into two hearts.

After he’d prepared her drink, she tipped him - because he deserved that even if his paycheck would thoroughly compensate him - and headed to one of the benches near the infinity railing that offered a breathtaking view of the New York skyline.

Something crunched beneath her foot, forcing her to stop.

Crouching, Emma picked up the frozen stem of a thistle. She twirled it between her fingers, sitting down on the freezing bench. Thankfully, the many layers of fabric cushioned her and protected her skin from the cold, despite the breeze swirling up her calves.

The dried glue itched where she’d applied the fake stitches. Only a few more hours, she thought to herself, knowing full well that parties like this one usually ended when the sunlight enveloped the tall skyscrapers in a lazy morning embrace.

Even just one sip of her hot chocolate helped thaw the ice threatening to settle into her bones. Thankfully, Emma had had the good sense to sew merino wool on the inside of the bodice; the thick striped socks had been a lucky but welcome find. For her legs, however, there was nothing to do but endure the cold as it was, no tights or anything, just pure, dyed skin marred by prosthetic stitches. When sitting down, however, the various layers of the skirt helped conceal and keep warm most of her thighs and knees.

That didn’t extend to her arms, left uncovered by more pieces of fabric cascading from the slightly puffy short sleeves.

I should have just taken one of my cloaks, Emma grumbled, only to be reminded by her own inner voice that cosplays were supposed to be as accurate as possible. Or at least, that was her conviction.

Music drifted outside, the deafening volume blessedly blocked by soundproof windows, carrying just enough not to make her feel completely alone out there.

Her foot tapped against the floor, following along the fast-paced rhythm of whatever cover this was. Bold of her to assume she would hear decent music: after all, the hosts’ knowledge lay in make-up and costumes, not music.

Once again, her attention fell on the flower in her hand; the fact that it was a thistle of all flowers made her chuckle and shake her head, synthetic auburn strands moving with her.

«My dearest friend, if you don’t mind, I’d like to join you by your side.»

The dulcet sound of a low-timbered voice set her whole body on fire in the very middle of the coldest night so far. Blood thrummed in her veins, heating her up from inside out as her heart began to race, almost wanting out of her chest.

And out of her chest it flew.

Standing in front of her, tall, wearing the most perfect costume she’d ever seen, was Jack Skellington.

Her mouth parted in shock, eyelids heavy with make-up blinking almost lazily at the sight. Though many were the versions of Jack’s dress, she knew this one was inspired by the live action: while the design was faithful to the original, the costume department of the movie had added touches here and there to make it mouth-watering. The main difference everyone noticed was the hood, casting shadows over the mask Emma knew was made in silicone and perfectly fit Killian Jones’ features to catch his own facial expressions. He’d said he’d trained with a former CIA specialist to bear wearing the mask for hours on end, just like Jim Carrey had when filming The Grinch.

Another novelty were the gloves he was wearing, made of vantablack material to better blend with the darkness and give a better contrast to the bones attached on their back. This time, they hadn’t used green screen to make them look like part of a skeleton - which had caused disdain in the fandom and between all the nerds. That is, until the final product had been delivered.

What didn’t make sense was how the gloves were perfect: usually, cosplayers couldn’t have access to vantablack because of the too expensive license fees, so those who’d tried to recreate those gloves usually used what was called black 3.0 several times, but somehow, it wasn’t the same.

Shaking herself out of her shock, Emma nodded, the long hair grazing her legs like spiders.

She watched him sit down next to her, his eyes never leaving her from behind the pitch black mesh fabric that gave the illusion of a hollow skull. She knew why, and pride swelled within her. Mary Margaret Blanchard, the actress who portrayed Sally, resembled Emma a bit, but it wasn’t just that: Emma would always, always try to recreate the perfect cosplay, never stopping until she could walk into the costume department, switch the dresses and nobody would notice.

Sally’s costume, just like Jack’s, was very much different from the original one, with a more victorian gothic twist to it. The headpiece of fabric roses, buttercups and pearls was something the original Sally didn’t wear, but it perfectly suited her. Her costume reveal had brought cosplayers to their knees while most nerds drew their weapons, ready to fight to get a better costume. Strange how the slit in her dress didn’t appease the common man, probably because it didn’t give a sexy appeal to Sally, but it mostly reminded of a torn dress, which was what the designer wanted.

Jack - there was no other name he’d given her, so she would just call him that - kept on looking. But so did she.

There was something about his costume that nagged at her, something she couldn’t rationally explain. Was it so strange to see a cosplay so perfect when she was obsessed with perfection herself?

Without remorse, her fingers shot up, carefully grazing the skull. Immediately, she recognized the feel of silicone beneath her painted fingertips.

«Wow,» she gushed with wide eyes, «that must have cost you a fortune to make! And it’s so perfect… everything about your costume is perfect.» My god, those buttons, and the stitches… «If I didn’t know better, I’d say you stole it from the costume department as some actors do when they leave a set.»

Though her words had been just a joke, Jack coughed, choking on his own breath. Once he’d recovered, he shook his head, the smile on the mask widening. Immediately, Emma remembered all the tidbits shared about it, how it did change following Killian’s expression; it was like having a highly sophisticated prosthetic hand that responded to the stimuli given by the nervous system. Everything Killian felt was replicated by the mask, making the effect even more terrifying. Even now, when Jack grinned, Emma was reminded of the movie, how it looked as if a skeleton had come alive.

«Not quite,» he admitted, the smoothness of his voice warming Emma up.

She arched an eyebrow, and he tilted his head.

At last, Jack sighed in defeat. «Would you believe me if I told you it was one of the few things I was allowed to take home from the set?»

It took a bit for her to realize what he was saying, her dyed eyebrows wrinkling together.

Emma sputtered. «You can’t be him, that’s just impossible!»

“Jack” cocked his head to the side. «Really? How so?»

«W-well...» she stammered, blinking slowly. What the hell? «Everyone knows Killian Jones is in England right now...»

A snort reached her ears, and the man shook his head, the hood moving, light gently rippling over the smooth fabric. «Ah, love, don’t you know that social media can be easily deceived?» He was now grinning like a Cheshire cat.

It would’ve been so easy to ask him to remove his mask, to prove to her that he was the real Killian Jones but, strangely, she felt as if she would be insulting Halloween itself.

Locking her jaw, she tapped her forefinger against the stem of the thistle, her mind working. He could easily tell her out of his own volition, put her out of her misery here and now, but where was the fun in that? Besides, there was a reason why he had chosen that dress for the night, not to flaunt that he was the Killian Jones, but because, that way, he could keep his identity a mystery and be free.

Feeling her mouth suddenly dry, Emma took a long sip of the now lukewarm chocolate. Somehow, she was grateful he was not easily recognizable as other celebrities. Problem was, if he truly was who he claimed to be, he wasn’t aware of being sitting next to one of his numerous fans, one that might or might not have fantasized about him, about his voice…

A light shiver licked down her spine and arms. What wouldn’t I give to be an actual ragdoll right now.

«Were you hoping I was someone else?» There was a trace of hurt in his voice, so raw and painful that Emma snapped her head up to look at him, wishing she could see his eyes.

«No, I-I just didn’t expect you, that’s all.» Flustered, she waved at the French doors. «To be honest, I didn’t even expect celebrities, sure, Vic and Jeff have connections-»

«And very bad taste in music.»

Emma couldn’t help it: she laughed. Tension faded, the knots in her stomach loosened and warmth unfurled, spreading to every inch of her. «That they do. But still, I expected this to be a party for us artists, and I’ll probably sound rude, but I didn’t want others to join.» No, that’s not just rude, Emma, that’s completely childish.

Killian - if that was even truly him - nodded. «One of the reasons why I chose this costume, it allows me to mingle but doesn’t make me someone to admire or look at in awe.» He shrugged. «Aside from the sentimental attachment, of course; it’s not everyday that I can wear it anymore.»

I know where you could wear that coat, Emma’s mind supplied as she hungrily glanced down the silver twirls on his lapels and the brocade vest. No, no, bad Emma.

She licked her lips, blessing the waterproof lipstick she wore. The not so innocent movement didn’t go unnoticed, her mouth drawing Killian’s gaze. How she could tell, she didn’t know, she just did.

«That’s very kind of you,» she murmured, her voice strange even to her own ears. «Many are just parading works of those who won’t get any recognition.»

He hummed. «In a way, I’m a fraud, too. I didn’t make this dress, nor the mask.»

«Still, you could have come here without the mask, with a make-up done by someone else, and everyone’s eyes would’ve been on you, just because it’s you.» Tone it down, Swan, she reprimanded herself; he didn’t deserve her ire.

«I’m surprised you’re not inside with Jefferson glowering at my colleagues,» he chuckled.

Emma’s insides melted at the sound, freeing butterflies in her stomach. «I hope Victor has hidden all his scissors.»

Victor and Jefferson were an incredible duo, both in and out of the bedroom. Emma and Vic knew each other since their teen years, when she was sent to Storybrooke out of all places. He’d been the crazy kid who loved chemistry more than anything else while she was a cast out who dreamed of better clothes, hating at the time that she had to sew them up in order to wear them again. They’d both found freedom in make-up, going to the same college and frequenting the same people.

Jefferson, on the other hand, was a single father who’d lost his first love to childbirth. Slightly older than them, he and Victor had clicked immediately on the first show they worked for together.

Now, years later, Vic had his own line of cosmetics that Emma adored, Jefferson had his own line of clothes and they both were wonderful parents to Grace. Emma loved them like the brothers she never had and adored her goddaughter.

«Then again,» she chuckled, «if Vic snaps, prepare yourself for one hell of a hangover. Been there, done that, never gonna repeat it.»

«Ouch, I’ve heard of his concoctions, but I’ve never tried them. Are they that bad?»

Emma bit her tongue, holding back a laugh. «No, no way: they are delicious. They make you see paradise only to send you straight to hell the next morning.» She looked at him, wanting to inch closer and peek behind the black film. «Definitely worth it.»

The air around them started to buzz, reminding her of the effects of Victor’s cocktails. Only, she knew she was fairly sober, and what she felt wasn’t a mere illusion.

Emma had had her fair share of one night stands, a boyfriend here and there, always ending in heartbreak, but nothing compared to this, to the tingling just beneath her skin, to the way her body instinctively gravitated toward him.

A vibration broke the spell, making Emma wince. «Shit, sorry,» she said, placing the thistle on the bench to reach into the pocket she’d sewn into the skirt to host her phone. More texts followed the first, and with each one, her complexion paled beneath the paint.

Apologizing eyes looked up at Killian. «I wish I could say I can go kill my friend and come back to finish our talk, but I can’t. I need to go. I’m sorry.» Emma shot upright, the hot cocoa sloshing over the rim of the paper mug, coating her fingers and dripping on the floor. «I really am sorry.»

She flew, despite her want to stay, to try to better understand what was that something between them, but in need to rush back to Storybrooke in hopes to find her house still standing.

Her heels clicked in her wake, Killian’s plea to wait making her heart bleed. In front of the glass door, she turned around, eyes locking with him even though logic would say she couldn’t be sure.

Killian was standing next to the bench, the thistle, secured in his hand. «Will you tell me your name?»

At that, Emma smiled, halfway between melancholia and amusement. «Where would the fun in that be? If we’re meant to be together now and forever...»

A groan escaped him, followed by a chuckle. «You’ll be the death of me, dearest friend.»

Her eyebrows shot upwards. «You seem pretty dead to me.»

His chuckle became a laugh, and more butterflies fluttered in her belly. Another incoming message dragged her back to reality.

With one last, mournful look at a laughing Killian Jones, and still slightly incredulous, Emma returned inside, leaving a tiny, small piece of her heart in the cold October night.

-/-

The doorbell interrupted her meticulous plans to kill Ruby.

Well.

Ruby and those damned teens who had decided it was good to set fire to her cobwebs.

It was definitely just the vandals’ fault, but Ruby had been in charge of house-sitting. She was guilty by association.

And of course, she wasn’t there to help Emma clean the mess in the backyard. Don’t be too hard on her, she helped you as much as she could before crashing.

A defeated sigh escaped her. «Coming!» she called, entering her house and blatantly ignoring the mess of decorations in her living room. Her heart clenched at the sight.

The doorbell rang for the third time, setting her nerves off. «I swear to god, if you’re one of the kids who set my house on fire I’m going to find a goddamned actual witch to curse you to hell and back!» she swore, wrenching the door open.

Only, it was no kid.

I would really hope not.

Standing in front of her, with a grin that didn’t completely mask his concern, with bright blue eyes and a beanie doing a poor job of covering his pointed ears, as red as the tip of his nose, was one Killian Jones.

Oh shit. It really was him.

Despite his words and the resemblance of his voice, Emma had convinced herself she’d not talked to the real Killian Jones. Perhaps he’d been his stuntman.

But now, seeing him in front of her in the broad daylight and without a mask… Fuck.

«I don’t know any witches, but I can help find one, if need be.»

Heart. Melting.

That was the effect he had on Emma. Apparently, having a crush on the actor was nothing compared to having a crush on the man.

«That’s… very nice of you. But unnecessary.» She blushed, dropping her head. «I’m sorry you had to see all this. Some idiots decided to become complete morons and risk jail because the weird girl was out of town.» Then, she looked up at him. «Wait a minute. How are you here?»

The same pinkness spread to his cheeks as he brought a hand to scratch behind his ear. «Ah, I might have persuaded Victor to tell me more about you...»

Emma was stunned. She should have been pissed at Vic for sharing personal information with a stranger, though Killian was no stranger to Victor. Besides, he could’ve just given up, as many had even after dating her for a few weeks. Instead, Killian Jones had come to Storybrooke. For her.

Not many - okay, not one man in her life - had ever made such an effort.

Remembering the last part of their conversation, she tilted her head, squinting at him. «I do wonder, have you extorted my name from Vic?»

Killian shook his head, black strands falling over his forehead. Her fingers itched to brush them away just to feel his hair beneath her skin. «As a matter of fact, I didn’t. I only inquired about Sally, and he told me that I would have to take a trip to Storybrooke and find the creepiest house in town. Thank goodness, he didn’t mean the haunted house on the hill.»

A laugh bubbled up in her throat as she stuck her hand out. «Well, I guess you deserve a reward for such a haunting experience. Emma Swan, make-up artist by day, cosplayer by night.»

The contact with Killian’s warm hand sent jolts of electricity up her arm; they turned into lighting bolts when he bent in a mock bow and kissed the back of her hand, his lips oh so deliciously warm and soft.

«Pleasure to meet you, Swan. I’m Killian Jones, actor by day, sometimes even by night.» His deep voice caressed her like a summer wind.

She felt at a loss, not knowing where to go from there, how to act. For the first time in her life, all Emma knew about men and how to be around them flew out of the window, catching on the tail of a witch’s broomstick.

For a moment, Killian didn’t move either, and she wondered if he felt the same helplessness, the same void inside her brain.

As if shaking himself out of a reverie, he brought his free hand to the pocket of his leather jacket. When he withdrew it, the same frozen thistle Emma had left in New York appeared, gently clutched in his fingers.

«My dearest friend,» he began, a mischievous twinkle in his striking blue eyes, «would you do me the honour of joining me where we can gaze into the stars after I’ve helped you clean up?»

Emma was speechless. Not only did he come to Storybrooke to find her and ask her on a date, but he was still quoting the end of the song, the duet between Jack and Sally, somehow never breaking character and yet still being himself. And, to add to that, he was offering to help her.

She had to lean against the doorframe, her knees suddenly weak. «So you think we’re simply meant to be?» Her words were a murmur, something she didn’t want to actually ask in fear of what his response would be.

Killian merely smiled wider, one hand shooting to graze his knuckles over her cheek. «I don’t know for sure, but it would be fun to investigate that possibility, don’t you agree?»

In plain sight, as anyone could see, beneath the mistletoe she put up as a nod to her favourite movie, Emma Swan, the weirdest girl in town, dragged famous star Killian Jones down for a kiss, wondering if her own now and forever had just begun.

-/-

The following Halloween was spent cuddling on the couch in Scotland, and if Emma found a way to sneak a 1700s handsewn gown in the luggage alongside a kilt she oh so gently pushed Killian to wear for an Outlander inspired shooting to officially announce they were seeing each other, well, that was for their followers to go crazy about.

It wouldn’t be until two Halloweens later that she dressed up as the Corpse Bride, sporting an engagement and a wedding ring completely different from the right one you’d expect a professional cosplayer to wear. Her and Killian’s fans might have taken a bit to catch on - if you consider three minutes and twenty-five seconds “a bit”.

On their sixth Halloween together, they dressed up as Neo-Queen Serenity and King Endymion, but it was very much clear that she didn’t need a prosthetic pregnant belly beneath the dress.

Their fans took just a tad longer, this time, but they were dancing beneath the stars, just as they were always meant to be.

[donteattheappleshook]

CS Halloweek: Just Human

With Halloween coming up tomorrow I wanted to share this personal favourite fic of mine that I wrote for the 2018 CS Supernatural Summer. It’s the closest thing to a Halloween fic I’ve ever written. Ghosts. Werewolves. Vampires. And Neal, the worst monster of all, of course. 

Just Human

Summary: After her death, Emma wakes up in her home, unable to be seen or heard by anyone. She resigns herself to this lifeless existence until one day, two men move into the house she haunts - and somehow, they can see her. A ghost, a vampire, and a werewolf living under one roof, what could possibly go wrong? A Being Human AU

And if you like it, here’s the sequel: Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5

@kmomof4 @snowbellewells @teamhook​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @stahlop​ @hollyethecurious​ @artistic-writer​ @gingerchangeling​ @bubblegum1425​ @jackieorioncat​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @xhookswenchx​ @lfh1226-linda​ @searchingwardrobes​ @winterbaby89​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @xsajx​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @elizabeethan​ @carpedzem​ @spartanguard​ @tiganasummertree​ @demisexualemmaswan​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @courtorderedcake @ultraluckycatnd​ @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​ @hookedonapirate​

[everything-person]

Little Red Riding OH!

A/N: another Captain Swan Halloween fanfic. First time writing a fanfic that is intended to be smutty so please bare with me. Hope you enjoy.

Summary: Emma's friend Ruby convinces her to go to a costume party where she just so happens to be in matching costumes with non other the Killian Jones.

👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻

Emma shot upright at the sound of banging on her door. Rubbing her neck she looked over her desk at the open book and scattered papers. She fell asleep while doing homework again. The banging that woke her started again.

“Emma. I know you're in there.” BANG BANG BANG “Open up.”

With a groan Emma pushed up from her desk, moved her way through her apartment to the front door. She opened it to find her friend Ruby dressed in a very revealing and bright outfit.

Emma used the door to proper herself up before asking, “Ruby. What the hell are you wearing?”

“I’m wearing my costume for the party.” Ruby said marching into Emma's apartment.

Emma followed her with her eye, her eyebrows furrowed. “And what the hell are you suppose to be?”

Ruby turned back to her placing her hands on her hips. “I’m Goldilocks.” she says pointing to the little bear sewn onto the corner of her skirt.

“Riiight. Well I don’t have any porridge for you so why don’t you try the bear down the hall.”

“Emma. We are going to a Halloween Party tonight,” Ruby said stubbornly.

Emma finally pushed off the door allowing it to close. “I’m not going,” she muttered as she made her way to her couch, plopping down on it.

Ruby came to stand right in front of her, “Emma come on. I have your costume right here. Go get dress.”

“I’m not going. And I don’t even want to know whats in that bag.”

“Come on Emma. It’ll be fun. You haven't gone out in forever.”

Emma rolled her eyes, “I’m just busy with school.”

“Another reason to go. You need a break, you need to let loose and have fun. You remember fun right?”

Emma gave Ruby a look causing Ruby to throw her hands in the air. “Okay if you go tonight I won’t drag you to the next two parties.”

“Really?”

“Really. Come on Emma. It’ll be fun. Everyone is going, a ton of hot guys are gonna be there. Plus there is free booze and free food,” Ruby said holding out the bag that contained Emmas costume.

Emma jumped up from the couch and grabbed the bag. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Ruby studied Emma for a moment before saying, “I could have said free food and you would have agreed right away.”

“Yup but now you promise to leave me at home for the next two parties so you can’t take it back.” Emma ran off to her room to get dressed before Ruby could argue.  

👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻

Ruby and Emma pulled up to a house filled with disgusting monsters and half dressed witches. Every room had a ghost and bats hanging from the ceiling, spiders crawling on every wall, and every window held a pumpkin each with their own uniquely craved face. Music flowed through the air mixing with bursts of laughter and random chatter. 

“Hello ladies,” purred a voice behind them as they made their way through the swarm of people. 

Emma turned to the source of the voice, after appraising them, “The Mad Hatter how original however did you come up with the idea?”

Jefferson Hatter gave one of his famous smiles at her snark, “Says the woman who apparently lost her way to grandmothers house.”

“Great costume for a great party Jefferson,” Ruby interjected on their banter.

“Thank you Ruby. You are looking ravishing tonight as well.”

“More like looking to get ravished,” Ruby flirted. 

Jeffersons eyes trailed up and down her body then smirked, “Maybe that can be arranged.” His tongue darted across his lips before he continued, “But for now enjoy the festivities. Bathrooms are down that hall and upstairs, dance floor is through there, and backyard has some extra fun.” 

“Where is food?”

Jefferson laughed before pointing in the direction of the kitchen and bar. “Go fill up your basket with all the treats you desire.”

Emma turned and follow the direction his hand was point in, Ruby close behind her. 

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

His eyes followed her as soon as she stepped through the front door. White cloth held her breast with a black corset wrapped around her, accentuating her curves. Her red skirt flowed as she walked, stopping at mid thigh allowing for her thigh high stockings to start leading down her deliciously long leggings. She wore a red cloak with a hood framing her face and complimenting her body instead of hiding her way.

“Jones!”

Killian was snapped out of his sirens song by fellow party attendant August. Killian took in his costume, he was dressed in leather jacket, dark jeans, and leather gloves with a red scarf wrapped around his neck. 

“What the hell are you suppose to be?”

August held up the bat, Killian didn’t notice, before answering, “I’m Negan. From the Walking Dead.”

Killian lifted his glass of rum to his lips before looking back at his red delight. She was now speaking with the host of this party. August followed Killian gaze letting out a whistle. 

“Damn.” 

Killian shot a glare at the man standing next to him, in the corner of his eye he saw Emma was on the move again. He excused himself then made his way through the crowd. He found her in the kitchen, he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she bit down on a chocolate covered strawberry. He was about to make his way toward her when a squealing flash of red hair darted past him. 

“Hey Killian, enjoying the party?” Elsa asked as she passed him making her way to her sister and best friend.

He watched the friends talk for a moment before heading outside. He went to a window that looks out onto the backyard. His heart dropped at the sight of Emma talking to a huntsman. 

‘Ugh, what were the odds?’ He thought to himself. Taking a deep breath he steeled himself. Tonight the big bad wolf will get red riding hood one way or another.

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

After a couple rounds of beer pong Ruby decided she wanted to go in to dance. Pulling Emma with her back through the house until the land on the dance floor. They dance to the beat, swaying close together. If their movements were a little suggestive they’ll blame the alcohol. No one seemed to mind the show.

As they danced Emma felt a claw snake around her waist and a chest press against her back. 

“Seems you’ve lost your way Little Red,” a voice growled in her ear. “You should be more careful. There are all manners of beast lurking around and being dressed as you are is dangerous.”

“Maybe. I’m looking for a little danger,” Emma purred back. She felt her partner growl deep in his chest. Just as quickly as he appeared he vanished back into the crowd leaving Emma feeling cold. 

Emma turned back to find Ruby found her own dance partners. See that her friend would be busy she decided to head to the kitchen to pour herself another drink. It was late in the evening and everyone had more than there fare to drink. After being shoved, bumped into and had her ass smacked more than she cared for, Emma decided to find solace upstairs.

After climbing the stairs she found herself in a hallway holding doors with different sorts of decorations. She approached one that was covered in police tap reaching for the handle.

“I don’t think you’ll find your grandmother in there.”

Emma jumped back at the sudden sound of the voice. She turned to see none other than Killian Jones. He was dressed in a grey pinstripe suit complete with fedora. One would think he was dress as an old school gangster if it weren’t for the wolf ears coming out of his hat, having paws instead of hands and tail poking out from behind him.

“And I believe the three little pigs live down the street.”

Killian chuckled taking a couple steps closer, “I’m not in the mood for pork.”

His eyes traced her body, his tongue darting across his lips. A pleasant shiver ran down Emma's spine.

“What are you doing so far from your friends?”

“Ruby found herself another dance partner.” Emma shrugged, “I also had a needed some space away from wandering hands.”

Concern flashed in Killians eyes, “Did you find yourself in the arms of an unwanted dance partner?”

Emma smirked, “No actually it was after my dance partner left me that I found I only wanted his hands on me.”

Killian face quickly turned from one of concern to a smolder. “Oh?”

“What about you Jones? Big Bad Wolf need to catch his breath?”

“Actually,” he reached a paw up to scratch the spot behind his ear, “seems we are in the same ship. I came up here to hide from a rather frisky Rapunzel.”

Emma quirked an eyebrow, “The Big Bad Wolf is scared of a little princess?”

“No. But because of her I had to leave my dance partner wanting.”

“Oh I thought it was because you couldn’t handle a little danger.” Emma swayed closer to him. 

“Perhaps you’re the one who can’t handle it.” Killian took a step toward her. 

Their breaths mingled together, her shirt just brushing his jacket. Both of them watching each other, waiting to see who would move first. The party down stairs all but forgotten. 

Emma broke the spell by grabbing the lapels of his suit and surging forward. Their mouths clashed together in a fiery kiss, their tongues battling for dominance. They broke apart for air only for a moment then Killian recaptured Emma's lips. 

One of his paws was grippingly the back of her hood while the other reached for the doorknob next to them. Throwing the door open he lead her inside what he hoped was an empty bedroom. Closing the door he pressed Emma up against it. She popped open his jacket, Killian allowed it and his paws to fall on the floor before gripping her body to his. Tearing his mouth away from her, his lips trailed down her neck kissing the tops of her breasts before making his way back up to her ear. 

“I’m going to take you against this door-”

Emma let out a breathy, “no.” 

Causing Killian to stop his actions, he picked up his head looking into her eyes. She saw the question in them and smiled.

“We’re going by the book.” She lifted up her skirt revealing the white lace thong she was wearing, “You’re going to eat me.”

Not having to be told twice Killian lowered himself so he was eye level with his Halloween treat. He taunted her, starting at the top of her stocking he kissed a trail up to where she wanted him before moving down the other thigh. 

Emma moaned and whithered in anticipation above him. Having enough of his teasing she gripped his head and lead him to where she desperately needed him.  

Killian, able to take a hint, dove right in. He worked his tongue into her cunt, alternating between long slow strokes and quick flicks. He sucked on her clit savor if the taste of her nectar. Emma's hand gripping the back of his head egged him, working faster to bring her to climax.

Emma moaned biting her lip. She was a little surprised how eager Killian was. But you wouldn’t find her complain. She let out a small gasp, “Fuck. I knew that mouth was good for something.”

When Killian tried to pull his mouth away to respond Emma’s hand held him in place. He continued working his tongue over her cunt. Feeling her legs shake he wrapped one around his shoulder his hand groping her ass as his tongue went deeper into her cunt.

The louder she got the closer he knew she was to climax. With one last swipe off his tongue she fell over the edge. Killian continued licking her as she rode out her first orgasm. Once the last wave of pleasure ripples through her body he placed a kiss on her thigh before letting it drop off his shoulder.

He kept a tight grip on her as he stood. Placing gentle kisses along her neck across her cheek finally reaching her lips. Unlike the first one, that was filled with fire and desperation, this kiss was filled emotion and longing.

Emma wasn’t ready for that. The only emotion she could handle right now was lust. Nibbling on Killians bottom lip as her hands traveled down his body. She palmed at the bulge in his pants causing him to groan. Pulling back slightly she said, “I think it’s your turn.”

Emma shoved him backwards. Killian continued to walk back until his legs hit the mattress. Emma knelt between his legs, popping the button on his pants and pulling down the zipper with her teeth. Sliding his cock out of his pants she smiled looking up at him, “No wonder your called the BIG Bad Wolf.”

She licked his cock from base to tip, swirling her tongue around his head before swallowing his cock whole. She bobbed her head up and down his large shaft, hallowing out her cheeks for increased pleasure.

After a minute or two Killian couldn’t take it anymore. He gripped her hair wanking her mouth off him. “If you don’t stop we won’t be able to get to the main event.”

Emma smiles raising herself up she captured his lips again. “Fuck me,” she breathed against his lips.

Killian flipped her onto her stomach on the bed. Emma raised herself so her ass was in the air. He gripped her hips, admiring her supple ass, biting down on her right cheek before standing up straight. He lined his cock up with her entrance then thrusting in. He filled her completely.

Giving her a moment to adjust to the intrusion he began to thrust into her. He gradually grew with speed soon he was pounding her into the mattress. Emma was meeting him thrust for thrust. The air was filled with their moans as they fucked each other.

Feeling close to his orgasm he reached his hand around Emma’s hips, fingering her clit. Within minutes they both hit their climax. Killian continued to thrust riding out their orgasm before colasping next to Emma on the bed.

Both breathing heavily try to regain their composure. Killian was the first to speak.

“That was...” Killian trailed off finding it difficult to describe what just happened.

“A one time thing.” Emma finished his sentence as she pushed herself off the bed. Adjusting her costume she made her way to the door.

“Wait a couple minutes before you go back down. And don’t forget your jacket.” She said as pulled open the door to leave. Before she had a chance to close it she heard Killian call out, “As you wish.”

Shaking off the deeper meaning of those three words she headed back downstairs to the party. Anna, dressed as Daphne from Scooby-Doo, came running up to her her basket in her hands.

“Emma I found your basket. I filled it with more goodies for you. Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Thanks,” Emma took back her little basket now filled with party treats. “I was just in the bathroom.”

“Oh well come on.” Anna grabbed her wrist and pulled her along.

Killian reaches the top of the stairs. Fixing his jacket he watched Emma being pulled by the red head disappearing into the crowd. When she became lost in the ocean of party goers he became more determined to make sure tonight was not a “one time thing.”

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

A/N: Okay so not the best but at least I got it done by Halloween so HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

[katie-dub]

The Bottomless Brunch Incident

Summary: There are some things you shouldn’t do while drinking - driving, texting ex boyfriends, carving pumpkins. But Emma Swan was never one for following the rules.

AO3

Hello! Yes, it’s been 84 years and honestly I thought my days of writing CS fic were done, but the words are back so here I am, putting out some Halloween-type fic inspired by my ridiculous life. (No, really.) And a little birdie ( @profdanglaisstuff​ ) told me that it was @thisonesatellite​ ‘s birthday, so happy birthday Steph! (And thank you Saira for reading this for me!)

“Emma can do that! Emma! EM-MA!” Mary Margaret’s voice rang out across the bar. 

Emma looked up without releasing the straw from her lips, continuing to slurp down her delicious alcoholic beverage of indeterminate origins. She hoped that she had struck that sweet spot between paying just enough attention to satisfy her friend, while also not making it clear to the rest of the room that she was the Emma in question.

“Come here here, Emma!” Mary Margaret had started flailing dramatically. 

Emma sighed, there was nothing for it, she was going to have to go see what she wanted or risk being dragged over there and causing even more of a scene. She stood up, and was a little surprised to discover that the ground seemed to sway beneath her. 

“Woah, who’s playing Inception with the floor?” she muttered to her feet, watching them suspiciously for signs of further unexpected movements and only making a move to her friend when she was satisfied that the ground was definitely upright again.

“What’s up Ms?” she asked, stumbling, but styling it out by leaning against the bar. And if her arms happened to miss the target ever so slightly, no one seemed to notice. At least, no one who would say anything.

“Emma! You’re exactly the person we need! The lovely um -”

“Killian”

“- that’s right, Killian, needs help.”

Emma looked up into the most stunning pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen. They were so rich and intense - like sparkling sapphires and forget-me-nots and the clearest, bluest summer sky all combined - and they were smirking at her in undisguised amusement. 

Oh fuck, she was staring. 

She blinked and concentrated on ignoring the resulting gravity shift in her brain that caused. When she reopened her eyes, she took in the rest of the owner of those eyes. A cocked eyebrow, an amused smirk, black and ginger scruff and mussed up hair that fell into his eyes. 

It was a good look. 

More than good, Emma’s lip curled up in a predatory grin, she licked her lips. She liked what she saw, a whole lot.

“Killian here needs a white in shining armour to help him impress a lady.” Mary Margaret said eagerly, clapping her hand on Emma’s shoulder. Emma’s heart dropped. A lady. Of fucking course the most gorgous man in the bar needs her help to get in some poor soul’s pants. “Killian, this is my dear friend Emma, and she carves the best pumpkin that you will ever have the pleasure of seeing. In. Your. Life.” 

It took Emma’s brain a minute to process what Mary Margaret had just said. “No, there’s no way for me to make sense of that. What’s happening here?”

“Killian -” Mary Margaret pointed with all the unselfconscious flourish that only the very intoxicated can pull off “- needs you, Emma Swan -” her finger jabbed towards Emma “- to carve him a pumpkin for a lady.”

“Carve your own damn pumpkin,” Emma snarled, feeling a childish urge to pout because Killian was taken.

“I would but -” Killian raised his left arm to indicate the prosthetic he had in place of a hand “- this makes it somewhat tricky.”

Oh God, I’m an asshole, she thought, refusing to help someone differently abled. 

“Oh - I’m - er, I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, love, you didn’t cut off my hand”

“Someone cut off your hand?” Emma shrieked in alarm, and Killian looked startled.

“Well, they were a surgeon, it wasn’t like Peter Pan chopped it off and fed it to a crocodile,” he said with a laugh.

Emma’s face burned in reply. 

“So anyway, my prosthetic makes pumpkin carving alone somewhat tricky. And my friend Will was supposed to turn up to help, but I forgot that he’s a wanker so that was never going to happen. And I might’ve struggled through, only the bottomless brunches that we offer is so popular that the whole place is packed. So now I need to go to Belle’s literary Halloween party straight from my shift with an ‘epic and on-theme jack o lantern’ that is currently but a sad, humble pumpkin. In short: help me Swan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.”

“Perhaps I should just carve Don’t Panic in large friendly letters?” Emms suggested.

Killian scoffed. “No need for that. I’m a frood who really knows where my towel is.”

Her jaw dropped. “You know Hitchhiker’s Guide?” she gasped.

“I’m a British geek, of course I do, I’d have my geek licence revoked for not know that. It’d be like a Ben Wyatt who couldn’t do sums!”

“It just doesn’t add up?” Emma smirked and Killian grinned in reply. 

“Oh I knew I liked you.”

“What does the lovely Belle like?” Mary Margaret butted in. Emma scowled. Right, there was a lady. “Ooooh Emma, maybe you could do something from Beauty and the Beast? You know, because of the name?”

“That sounds a little complex for me, Ms, um..” Emma said.

“Oh don’t go to any trouble on my account,” Killian said.

“Killian, stop flirting with my customers, and get back to work!”

Killian rolled his eyes, but straightened up, scratching behind his ears which had turned a little red at his boss’ words.

“Just leave it with me,” said Emma confidently, “I’ll wow this Belle for you!”

And she started carving a pumpkin, because what else can you do when you’re drunk and the guy you’re into has the hots for someone else.

🎃🎃🎃

It was probably not the best pumpkin Emma had ever carved. It certainly wasn’t the safest thing she ever did, wielding a sharp knife while so drunk she had to close one eye and squint to see straight. But still, some time later she had produced a Frankenstein’s Monster pumpkin that Mary Margaret squealed “she’ll love it!” over, before turning a colour befitting of said monster. 

In the rush to save both the jack o lantern and the bar floor from the indignity of Mary Margaret’s depositing the contents of her stomach upon them, Emma had to leave without saying goodbye to Killian or hearing his thoughts of her carving.

It was probably for the best.

🎃🎃🎃

Emma had thought that she would be too embarrassed to ever set foot in The Rabbit Hole again after The Bottomless Brunch Disaster. But just three weeks later, she found herself cajoled into going with Ruby to meet a new girl she’d started seeing. Emma left her hair down, letting it fall forward over her face to hide from the shame.

“Emma, come join me!” Ruby called out and Emma looked up to see her sitting at the bar. She shook her head minutely, she couldn’t go sit at the bar, what if Killian were there? She’d be mortified. 

“Swan Kenobi as I live and breathe!”

Emma was fairly certain that her heart stopped in that moment. Just for dramatic effect. Killian was here. Well, there was no point hanging back now she’d been caught.

“Hi Ruby,” she said as she walked up to her friend, “Killian,” she greeted him with a short nod.

Ruby looked back and forward between them. “I didn’t know that you knew each other.”

“Oh we don’t really,” Emma said, “I just carved a pumpkin for him a few weeks ago. How’d that go by the way? Did you win the heart of the princess?”

“Hold up,” said Ruby. “You carved him a pumpkin? How is that sentence meant to make any kind of sense to me?”

“He was trying to impress some girl and Mary Margaret was there, probably handing out hope speeches like Halloween candy, and somehow it was decided that a gorgeous Frankenstein’s Monster pumpkin would be the way to do it.”

“Emma carved that jack o lantern you brought to Belle’s party?” Ruby gasped in delighted shock, while Emma was left reeling by Ruby’s statement.

“You know Belle?” she asked.

“Hi there!” A petite brunette appeared from nowhere, presumably the aforementioned Belle, and she proceeded to give Ruby a kiss.

“Emma, meet Belle, my new girlfriend,” Ruby introduced the newcomer.

It took a long time for the pieces of the puzzle to click into place in Emma’s head, but when they did she was left feeling inexplicable angry with Killian. “I pulled out my best work for nothing?" she snapped at him. 

"I wouldn't say nothing, lass, I did need help with carving a pumpkin for Belle’s party. Your friend got it into her head that men and women can’t be friends or some such nonsense. Honestly, she was drunk and offering me help, I wasn’t trying to trick anyone. And besides that pumpkin brought a very enchanting lady into my life." 

There was someone else now? I mean, the guy was hot, but was she gonna have to fight a crowd to get to him? Not that she was interested of course.. She leaned in with her chin on her hands, attempting to look nonchalant. 

"Another one? Tell me, what's this one like?" 

"She's a tough lass, but with a heart of gold. The kind to take pity on a miserable sod in a bar and try to help him get his happy ending, a real saviour, you know?" Emma's heart beat faster. "And she has the most bewitching green eyes that I could get lost in." She started to smile. “And she’s the best pumpkin carver I ever met and if she’d be up for it, I’d love to get a drink with her sometime.”

“Killian Jones will you stop fucking about and do your damn job!” Killian’s boss had come up behind him, causing him to jump. She stomped off, leaving him and Emma to say their goodbyes.

Thinking quickly, Emma reached over the bar, grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. It was hot, sweet and far too fast. “You’re on,” she said, releasing him and stepping back from the bar “but let’s go somewhere else next time - and let’s not talk about pumpkins again.”

“As you wish,” came the faintly stunned reply from Killian as she turned and sauntered out of the bar, already looking forward to next time. 

🎃🎃🎃

So... yeah. Don’t drink and carve people, that way leads to madness. What’s the wackiest Halloween-related thing you’ve ever done?

[secretlessvicki]

CS Halloween: Oct 31st >> Spirits and Traditions (It’s All Just A Bunch Of Hocus Pocus)

“What the bloody hell did you do?”

“You can talk?”

“Whether I can speak is beside the point. Your son just released the greatest threat to this town in three hundred years.”

On All Hollow's Eve, when the moon is round, a virgin will summon thee with a light of the black flame.