A while back @winterbythesea shared a post with this amazing description of the clitoris: “That’s the devil’s doorbell and if you keep pressing it, soon enough he will answer.” So Svenja shouted fic prompt, as is her wont, and came up with this:
Emma wanders into the path of a weird curse or eats something she shouldn’t or picks up an artefact she wasn’t supposed to touch (Regina did warn her!) and suddenly every time she settles in to, ahem, ring the devil’s doorbell… he answers.
So I wrote the thing and am sharing it now for @cscocktoberfest – I hope I’ve done you proud Svenja. This is more banter and innuendo with a sprinkle of smut, but I hope you all like it. (And I’ve got another Cocktoberfest fic to come next Wednesday!)
Thanks @initiala for organising this event, which gave me the nerve to actually post this. Cheers for reading this over for me @mahstatins and danke schön @distant-rose and @welllpthisishappening for chanting “post it!” at me 😉
Emma Swan was having a day. Or maybe a week.
Possibly even a lifetime. It was one thing to discover after 28 years that she
wasn’t actually an orphan but a bona fide witch from outstanding magical
pedigree, it was quite another to find herself expected to do something about
it and take flipping magic lessons. Especially when her teacher was her sassy
step grandmother who expected nothing less than total dedication at all times.
Only today she had found her mind and her hands wandering resulting in such a sharp
reprimand that she was almost glad that her entire family had been separated
from her by a curse for her entire formative years.(And, OK, maybe it was better not to
touch strange magical artifacts that she had no knowledge or understanding of,
but surely Regina didn’t have anything actually dangerous in that vault
of hers.. Right?)Still though, the incident had left her feeling
frustrated and full of pent-up nervous energy that she desperately needed to
relieve. And what better way than with a little TLC?