Title: Scent of Seduction
Title: Scent of Seduction
Author: kaitlia777
Author's e-mail/website: kaitlia777@yahoo.com
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Summary: Prompt: Emma discovers that the scent/taste Earl Grey tea drives Jefferson crazy in the best way possible
Type / Pairings: Jefferson/Emma
Main characters: Emma Swan, Jefferson
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: N/A
Spoilers: If it’s aired in the US, then it’s fair game!
Beta: N/A
Disclaimer: Don’t own any of the recognizable character, just taking them out to play!
Author's Notes: Written at the prompting of gilove2dance
“Stop fiddling with your scarf, that's not what people are staring,” Emma said, sipping her hot chocolate as she peered across the diner table at Jefferson. “No, it kind of is, but not in the way you think.”
Lowering his hand from where he'd been rearranging his scarf (again), Jefferson cocked his head slightly and gave her a considering look. “What do you mean by that?”
“Look around,” she replied with a smile, eyes taking in his intricately patterned, dark shirt and brocade vest. To others, who hadn't seen the vivid scar on his pale throat, the scarf might seem a kind of affectation. “This is a small town in Maine. You stand out like a sore thumb…Are you wearing eyeliner?”
He blinked. “Kohl is a unisex thing in our world,” he said, pouting a bit, which made his plump lower lip jut out enticingly. “Do you think I look strange?”
Emma smiled. “I think you are strange,” she said, making sure her tone held no malice. “But seriously, your look is…different. It works for you though.”
It really, really did. Though they’d become quite friendly since his reappearance via magic hat (and Emma's subsequent acceptance that magic, The Enchanted Forest and the evil curse existed), she wasn't ready to take that step beyond friendship. She didn't think he was either. There had been moments when she thought maybe something might happen, but they were always interrupted.
For now, they were content to pretend that the tingling spark between them wasn't growing stronger every day.
Plucking at the cuff of his shirt, Jefferson said, “I really never gave much thought to adapting my style to this world.”
“Being an individual is good,” Emma agreed, pushing a slice of cheesecake his way. “Don't worry about it.”
That conversation happened two days earlier. Emma had seen Jefferson since and didn't want to think too hard about the fact that she missed him. So, instead of contemplating that scary thought, she gave him a call. He seemed delighted to hear from her and invited her up to his place for dinner. She agreed quickly, promising to bring dessert.
She stopped at the bakery and considered the array of goodies available. Cream horns, bread pudding, peanut butter pie, coconut cream cheesecake… Everything looked amazing, as always. Eventually, she chose a banana coffeecake and impishly got 2 cups of Earl Grey tea to go.
Tea was…kind of their thing.
As she was carrying the goodies from her car up the stone stairs that led into Jefferson's house, the lid on one of the cops came loose, splashing hot tea onto her shirt. She cringed as the liquid seeped through, nearly scalding her skin. Pushing her way into the house (Jefferson wasn't overly fond of locking his doors), she deposit the cake in cups on the first clear table.
“Hey, do you have a shirt I can borrow?” she called out, pulling the tea stained cotton away from her skin. “I need to soak this so….”
She was going to say, so it doesn't stain, but the words caught in her throat as she stepped into the kitchen. Jefferson was standing by the marble topped island, plating a delicious looking lasagna. That wasn't what stopped her in her tracks.
Instead of his usual eccentric outfit, he wore pressed, khaki trousers and the light weight, button down plaid shirt, open at the neck. The effects of the different style was striking, even if it did display the scar on his throat.
He looked younger somehow, stripped of the figurative armor his scarf and vest provided, vulnerable.
Immediately, he realized she was gaping and fidgeted. “Just trying something different,” he mumbled as a blush rose to his cheeks. Eyes ticking down to the damp spot on her shirt, he took a step forward. “What happened?”
“Nothing much, a little spill,” Emma replied quickly, then waved a free finger to indicate his outfit. “This certainly is a different look.”
“I thought it might fit in better in town,” he said, then blinked and leaned forward slightly. It took Emma a moment to realize he was sniffing her. “Are you wearing a new perfume?”
“I don't wear perfume,” she said, trying not indicate that his proximity was having any effect on her. “Why? Do I smell weird?”
“No,” he practically yelped and Emma's mouth fell open in surprise when he lowered his head and deliberately breathed her in. “No, you smell incredible.”
Though his nearness, the warmth of his body and the fact that he kept breathing against her neck made it a bit difficult for logical thought, eventually Emma figured out that it had to be the scent of the tea on her skin. She'd never heard of a man reacting like this to tea, though she'd known a stripper who used to put vanilla extract on her skin and claimed that it drove men wild.
To each their own, she supposed.
“I spilled some tea on myself,” she told him touching the now damp stain at the neckline of her tank top.
He drew back slightly, partially dilated eyes darting down, before asking, “Are you all right? Did it burn you?”
“No,” she assured him, then smiled. “Can I borrow one of your shirts?”
Jefferson nodded. “Of course, I can go….”
“Finished getting dinner ready, I can find shirt,” she assured him and quickly made her way out of the kitchen.
It didn't take her long to find Jefferson’s room and she smiled to see the shirt he'd worn the other day laying draped over the arm of the chair. Picking it up, she shook it out then drew it close, inhaling his sent.
Shedding the tea stained tank top, she shrugged into his shirt, catching sight of herself in the mirror. Her blonde hair contrasted with the material nicely and she smirked as an impish thought sprung to mind.
Tonight, she was going to find out if a man from the Enchanted Forest from the side of a woman dressed in his shirt (and only his shirt) as enticing as men from the world she'd grown up in did.
Author: kaitlia777
Author's e-mail/website: kaitlia777@yahoo.com
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Summary: Prompt: Emma discovers that the scent/taste Earl Grey tea drives Jefferson crazy in the best way possible
Type / Pairings: Jefferson/Emma
Main characters: Emma Swan, Jefferson
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: N/A
Spoilers: If it’s aired in the US, then it’s fair game!
Beta: N/A
Disclaimer: Don’t own any of the recognizable character, just taking them out to play!
Author's Notes: Written at the prompting of gilove2dance
“Stop fiddling with your scarf, that's not what people are staring,” Emma said, sipping her hot chocolate as she peered across the diner table at Jefferson. “No, it kind of is, but not in the way you think.”
Lowering his hand from where he'd been rearranging his scarf (again), Jefferson cocked his head slightly and gave her a considering look. “What do you mean by that?”
“Look around,” she replied with a smile, eyes taking in his intricately patterned, dark shirt and brocade vest. To others, who hadn't seen the vivid scar on his pale throat, the scarf might seem a kind of affectation. “This is a small town in Maine. You stand out like a sore thumb…Are you wearing eyeliner?”
He blinked. “Kohl is a unisex thing in our world,” he said, pouting a bit, which made his plump lower lip jut out enticingly. “Do you think I look strange?”
Emma smiled. “I think you are strange,” she said, making sure her tone held no malice. “But seriously, your look is…different. It works for you though.”
It really, really did. Though they’d become quite friendly since his reappearance via magic hat (and Emma's subsequent acceptance that magic, The Enchanted Forest and the evil curse existed), she wasn't ready to take that step beyond friendship. She didn't think he was either. There had been moments when she thought maybe something might happen, but they were always interrupted.
For now, they were content to pretend that the tingling spark between them wasn't growing stronger every day.
Plucking at the cuff of his shirt, Jefferson said, “I really never gave much thought to adapting my style to this world.”
“Being an individual is good,” Emma agreed, pushing a slice of cheesecake his way. “Don't worry about it.”
That conversation happened two days earlier. Emma had seen Jefferson since and didn't want to think too hard about the fact that she missed him. So, instead of contemplating that scary thought, she gave him a call. He seemed delighted to hear from her and invited her up to his place for dinner. She agreed quickly, promising to bring dessert.
She stopped at the bakery and considered the array of goodies available. Cream horns, bread pudding, peanut butter pie, coconut cream cheesecake… Everything looked amazing, as always. Eventually, she chose a banana coffeecake and impishly got 2 cups of Earl Grey tea to go.
Tea was…kind of their thing.
As she was carrying the goodies from her car up the stone stairs that led into Jefferson's house, the lid on one of the cops came loose, splashing hot tea onto her shirt. She cringed as the liquid seeped through, nearly scalding her skin. Pushing her way into the house (Jefferson wasn't overly fond of locking his doors), she deposit the cake in cups on the first clear table.
“Hey, do you have a shirt I can borrow?” she called out, pulling the tea stained cotton away from her skin. “I need to soak this so….”
She was going to say, so it doesn't stain, but the words caught in her throat as she stepped into the kitchen. Jefferson was standing by the marble topped island, plating a delicious looking lasagna. That wasn't what stopped her in her tracks.
Instead of his usual eccentric outfit, he wore pressed, khaki trousers and the light weight, button down plaid shirt, open at the neck. The effects of the different style was striking, even if it did display the scar on his throat.
He looked younger somehow, stripped of the figurative armor his scarf and vest provided, vulnerable.
Immediately, he realized she was gaping and fidgeted. “Just trying something different,” he mumbled as a blush rose to his cheeks. Eyes ticking down to the damp spot on her shirt, he took a step forward. “What happened?”
“Nothing much, a little spill,” Emma replied quickly, then waved a free finger to indicate his outfit. “This certainly is a different look.”
“I thought it might fit in better in town,” he said, then blinked and leaned forward slightly. It took Emma a moment to realize he was sniffing her. “Are you wearing a new perfume?”
“I don't wear perfume,” she said, trying not indicate that his proximity was having any effect on her. “Why? Do I smell weird?”
“No,” he practically yelped and Emma's mouth fell open in surprise when he lowered his head and deliberately breathed her in. “No, you smell incredible.”
Though his nearness, the warmth of his body and the fact that he kept breathing against her neck made it a bit difficult for logical thought, eventually Emma figured out that it had to be the scent of the tea on her skin. She'd never heard of a man reacting like this to tea, though she'd known a stripper who used to put vanilla extract on her skin and claimed that it drove men wild.
To each their own, she supposed.
“I spilled some tea on myself,” she told him touching the now damp stain at the neckline of her tank top.
He drew back slightly, partially dilated eyes darting down, before asking, “Are you all right? Did it burn you?”
“No,” she assured him, then smiled. “Can I borrow one of your shirts?”
Jefferson nodded. “Of course, I can go….”
“Finished getting dinner ready, I can find shirt,” she assured him and quickly made her way out of the kitchen.
It didn't take her long to find Jefferson’s room and she smiled to see the shirt he'd worn the other day laying draped over the arm of the chair. Picking it up, she shook it out then drew it close, inhaling his sent.
Shedding the tea stained tank top, she shrugged into his shirt, catching sight of herself in the mirror. Her blonde hair contrasted with the material nicely and she smirked as an impish thought sprung to mind.
Tonight, she was going to find out if a man from the Enchanted Forest from the side of a woman dressed in his shirt (and only his shirt) as enticing as men from the world she'd grown up in did.