Note: So, this was supposed to be submitted yesterday for Tumblr WS Week Day 3: "Hump Day (NSFW)", but Commander Elsa is a slacker. (It's actually just really awkward to write porn(ish) while sitting on a couch with your brother in law. LOL)
So ANYWAY, better late than never.
Premise: Everyone has returned to the Enchanted Forest, presumably sometime after Season 3 ends. August has been restored to his adult self and has been in an established relationship with Emma for some time.
Emma stared precariously at the grand staircase magnificently lit in the center of the ballroom. In a few moments, she would have to descend that staircase, wearing the monstrosity she had been laced and practically sewn into. It was a deep purple hue, presumably to signify royalty, and it was probably wider than her old Bug.
Shit, she missed that old piece of crap.
But that wasn't what was bothering her. It wasn't her ridiculously coiffed and curled hair or the tiara that had been placed into it. It wasn't the dress or the shoes (although she was sorely missing her lace up boots). It was the fact that even though this ball was to celebrate their return home…it felt like she was living someone else's life. She still felt like the kid who grew up with no parents and had a criminal record; the lost little girl who got knocked up by a thief and gave her kid up for adoption. It had been nearly two years since the curse had broken. They'd been back in the Enchanted Forest for two weeks now, and Emma still wasn't used to the fact that she was no longer Emma Swan. Princess Emma. There were apparently some absurd middle names (Yes names. Plural.) attached to that moniker, but at this point she was just going to be Emma. She could only be relieved that she was physically the same age as her parents, because that meant she wouldn't ever have to be Queen.
The monarchy would fall to her brother, Prince Leo.
She grinned at the thought of the chubby baby with his five teeth, drooling on his teddy bear, ruling the kingdom. Of course, Leo would have his nephew to help guide him. Henry had sort of assumed the role of older brother with his uncle, and to his credit, David acted as his father figure. It wasn't Neal, but Henry embraced his grandfather all the same. And he did have a stepfather in Robin, who was very good to him. He'd even started to teach the thirteen year old archery, which Henry loved, of course. Regina wasn't thrilled with Henry shooting arrows, but she trusted her husband. And Emma could see how happy she was with Robin.
If anyone had told her two years before that Regina and she would be co-raising Henry in "fairytale land", she would have probably rolled her eyes or maybe even laughed. But, here they were, and dare she say it, Regina was her friend. All past aside, they were finally a true family. Even Regina and Mary Margaret –er – Snow had begun to put aside their differences and attempt to make amends, which was even more miraculous.
"Emma," a soft voice brought her out of her thoughts. She turned to see Snow standing there patiently, wearing a dark blue ball gown with her dark hair piled on her head. "It's time. David and I will go first and then you'll come down and we'll formally introduce you to the kingdom."
"Are you sure we couldn't have just gone with a simple backyard barbeque? Y'know, burgers and hot dogs?"
Snow gave her a wry grin. "We don't even have hot dogs here. Sausage, of course, but no hot dogs."
"Damn." Emma sighed. "All right. Let's get it over with."
"Oh, come on…it's not that bad."
"Mary Marg—uh, Snow, I look like a centerpiece," she groaned, gesturing miserably to the massive skirt of her gown.
"But a very pretty centerpiece," David's voice came from nearby. "The classy kind, not the paper kind you could buy at the dollar store in Storybrooke." Emma gave him a mock scowl, making him laugh as he stooped to kiss Snow's cheek. "Leo's finally asleep. Teething is not treating him well."
"I could go sit in with him," Emma offered with an innocent look.
David snorted, patting her on the shoulder. "Nice try. Nurse Alma is in with him."
"So I just walk down the stairs, you introduce me, and I can hit the champagne fountain?" Emma inquired.
Snow gave her a withering look, but nodded. "After that you can mingle with people. Dance. Have fun."
"Nobody has fun in heels," she muttered to herself, following as Snow and David approached the staircase. They were announced in first, descending with practiced ease, waving and smiling to their subjects. Emma swallowed, gripping the banister as she rounded the corner. Vaguely, she heard her own name called and looked down, meeting Snow's eyes. Snow discreetly gestured for her to start down. "That champagne better be potent," she grumbled, plastering on a smile and walking down the stairs.
Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall.
The staircase seemed to grow longer with each step as the skin on the back of her neck tingled with the knowledge that every eye in the room was on her. Emma had never liked being the center of attention. Not to mention, standing in the center of a room, surrounded by people did remind her of when she'd been picked up by the cops. She had a strong urge to flee as she reached the bottom step. The room fell silent as the applause died down and David started his introduction. Emma scanned the room, thankfully noticing some familiar faces among the unfamiliar.
Ruby and Victor stood to the side with their arms linked, speaking quietly to one another. Ariel and Eric were toward the back with Aurora and Philip close by. Regina stood in front of Robin, with one of his hands on her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed and the two both wore clandestine grins on their faces. Emma didn't even want to know why, she was just glad the people weren't revolting in her presence. Archie was even here with his girlfriend Annie. She strained to find one particular face, but there were simply too many people.
"…our daughter, Princess Emma!" David finished, while Snow wiped a tear from her eye as the crowd burst into applause once more. Emma smiled, letting them both hug her; though she was sad to say she couldn't have repeated one word either of them had said. She was distracted, agitated even.
"I'm so proud of you," David told her sincerely, doing that awful thing he did when he got emotional and making her eyes burn.
"Thanks," she managed, letting him kiss her cheek.
"You're doing great," Snow assured her, glancing over her shoulder. "I should go mingle. David?" The prince held his arm out to her, and the two nodded at Emma encouragingly, before disappearing into the crowd. Out of the corner of her eye, Emma could see the champagne fountain, beckoning to her like the sweet nectar of life. At least some things didn't change between worlds. Death and booze. Now if she could just get her hands on a gun that didn't require the use of gunpowder, she'd be a happy girl. Even better, if she could coerce the local baker into making her pizza.
She stood rooted to the spot on the bottom stair, unsure of what to do or how to move in the clothing she'd been poured into. Although, she thought privately that the corset was ten times worse than the dress. She missed bras. But the sad fact was she didn't belong there. This was where she was meant to be and she'd better start getting used to it if she ever wanted it to feel like home to her.
"You look lost, Princess." His voice took her by surprise, making her jump a little, turning to see blue, blue eyes smiling down at her.
"What shadow did you crawl out of, Pinocchio?" She grinned, feeling a slight shred of relief. He was there after all.
"Running a little late is all," he told her apologetically. "But I got here as soon as I could."
"Out terrorizing the villagers?" She asked, taking in the sight of him. Adulthood suited August; he was all broad shoulders and dashing good looks. He'd even shaven the beard a few days before, so all he had at present was a light, very attractive stubble. His dark blue jacket was embroidered with silver thread, making him look more like a prince than the son of a carpenter. Yet, the fact that he wore no tie of any sort and the top two buttons of his shirt were left undone, leaving just the faintest view of the hair on his chest, giving him the slight edge of rebellion.
"Oh, you know me," he answered smoothly, offering her his arm, "I like to make an entrance."
"If this morning was any indication, you like to make an exit too," she smirked, taking his arm and letting him lead her through the crowd toward the champagne fountain. "I'm thirty years old, you know. You can just use the front door."
"Oh right, and have the Prince give me that knowing look." August cringed. "He may look the same age as you, but he's still your father. It's weird, Emma."
"Careful, Booth…that sounds like whining…" she teased. "What are you saying? Should we start checking the market for good deals on castles?"
"It is going to be a little chaotic once Leo starts getting into those terrible twos," she agreed, "Can I just tell you, they're already discussing betrothal to Aurora's kid, what's her name?"
"Nora…Dora…Flora…" He shrugged, "Something with 'ora' on the end."
"Zora!" Emma remembered. "Weird name, but whatever. It's cute!"
August studied her for a moment, before filling two flutes of champagne. He handed one to her, taking a long drink of his. "So, is it betrothal itself that bothers you or is it the fact that neither party can wipe their own ass yet?"
"I don't know…" Emma took a thoughtful sip of her champagne. "I mean, I'm not opposed to marriage in general. What gets me is the no choice thing. Like what if they grow up and they just aren't feeling it? What if she ends up being needy? Or he ends up being a womanizer? Or a drunk? Or—"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Emma…" August gingerly took the flute out of her hand and set it on the table beside the fountain. She was surprised when he wrapped his arms around her, trapping her arms between them with her cheek against his left shoulder. Even more shocking, was her eyes were suddenly full of tears as memories of her past came crashing down. Her ill-fated love with Neal. Her affair with a man who was married. Her foster father who was a bit too loving.
"I have to get out of here for a minute," she whispered. It was too much. It was all so overwhelming in that moment, between here and there; past and present.
"Come on," he said, pulling back and taking her hand into his, "Everyone's occupied at the moment." Discreetly, they slipped into a door near the staircase. It was a room Emma hadn't really been in yet; a trophy room of sorts. The heads of deer lined the walls and a gigantic fireplace sat in the center of it, breathing warmth into the room. It was a distinctly masculine room, with leather furniture and mahogany wood tables. What caught Emma's eye was the pool table in the corner, immaculately made with gleaming wood.
"I remember that," August said fondly, letting go of her hand and walking toward it. "Papa made that as a wedding present to Snow White and the Prince."
A slow smile spread across her face. "Have I mentioned how adorable I think it is that you call your Dad "Papa"?" His cheeks turned a delightful shade of red as he whirled on her, making her stumble backwards in her titanic skirt before hitting the back of the leather sofa. His hands settled on the sofa on either side of her waist.
"You know what I think is adorable?" He asked, bending so that he could nuzzle his nose against the sensitive skin behind her ear, making her pulse race. "You in this dress. All fussed up like a Barbie doll wearing diamonds." She rolled her eyes, laughing breathlessly and pushing at his chest.
"You are such a womanizer, Booth."
"Oh you love it," he chuckled, ghosting his lips along the outer shell of her delicate ear before lowering his voice. "I want to see you in nothing but those diamonds. The choker, the bracelet—"
"Even the tiara?" Emma murmured, letting her eyes fall closed for a moment.
"Especially the tiara."
"August, we better get back…back in …" Her head lolled back as his lips trailed over the graceful column of her throat.
"You were saying, Princess?" He rumbled against her skin, tickling her with the faint scratch of his jaw, brushing his lips lightly over hers and pulling back. It set her nerves on fire. She was aware of him stooping down before she heard the faint rustle of fabric. Her eyes flew wide open to find August on his knees before her with a wicked grin on his beautiful face.
"What are you doing?" She hissed worriedly, glancing toward the door. "Anyone could walk in."
His eyes flashed devil blue. "That's part of the fun…"
Emma let out a yelp as he disappeared beneath the vast amount of purple satin and tulle, his hand wrapping around her ankle. She could feel the warmth of his breath through her stocking as he moved his mouth up her leg, pausing to kiss the back of her knee and sending a thrill through her. She'd never known how sensitive that was until she'd been with August for the first time, months before. Since then, they'd enjoyed each other in countless ways; in all sorts of places, and every time, August tormented her by lavishing attention on places she'd never even thought of. Fingers hooked into the waistband of her underwear, sending both pleasure and panic coursing through her.
"August stop," She whispered weakly, gripping the back of the couch as he pushed her undergarment to her knees, helping one foot out of them and leaving them pooled around the other. Her leg was propped over a velvet clad shoulder, before she felt the subtle brush of his lips against the smooth skin above her silk stocking. Though she braced herself for what was coming, she still gasped aloud when his mouth made contact with her most sensitive spot, teasing her without mercy. Emma quickly grabbed one of the throw pillows on the couch and muffled her groan of pleasure in it. She could feel the hum of his laughter against her, sending jolts of ecstasy throughout her body.
It was both agonizing and exquisite, not being able to see him as he used his mouth on her, worshiping her with every flick of his tongue, as if he couldn't get enough of her; would starve without her. The bodice of her gown felt excruciatingly tight, binding her while she gasped for breath, feeling one of his hands cup the curve of her behind. For one distressing moment, she desperately wanted to see his eyes, practically glowing with mischief as he tasted her, that infuriating, lovely smile of his against the dewy lips of her sex. It seemed she would never get enough of his touch, even after nearly ten months together, since she'd freed him from the spell that had trapped him in the body of a child. She'd never loved anyone the way she loved August, not even Neal…and certainly not Hook. In turn, he loved her like a madman; as if he were terrified she would disappear or change her mind about him. When they shared a bed, he clung to her, wrapping limbs around her in a subconscious attempt to hold her there. Those were the nights when she brought his head to her chest and held him there, raking her fingers gently through his chestnut hair until he succumbed to sleep.
Her half closed eyes turned to watch the door, fearful that someone would walk in; not really caring if they did as August continued his torturous ministrations. She cried out without warning she felt the addition of his finger entering her pliant flesh, expertly manipulating her core. Small, breathy mewls became muted sighs of blissful agony as he drove her higher and higher until she was seeing stars behind her eyes and torn between begging him to stop and ordering him to never stop. Her nails drove into the leather of the sofa, though she yearned to grip his dark hair in her hands. Tears burned in the corners of her eyes as she neared her inevitable, manic release. Every muscle in her body clenched as a surge of relief sped through her limbs, causing every muscle to jerk as she went still, supporting her weight on the sofa. He rode it out with her, eliciting every last spasm from her enervated body.
Faintly, Emma heard the creak of the door and panicked, straightening quickly though her leg was still draped over August's shoulder. She glanced toward the door to see Ruby and Victor had just walked in hastily, both looking like they had similar notions on their mind. It would have been amusing if August wasn't still taunting her by lingering beneath her skirts.
"Oh whoops!" Ruby cried, turning a bright shade of red. "I didn't know anyone was in here."
"Yeah…" Emma struggled to form a coherent thought. "I just needed a minute. I'm not used to all of this…" She gestured absently, hoping that was enough of an explanation to suffice (and also that her face wasn't fifty shades of pink).
"No problem," Victor said, looking slightly embarrassed. The pair exchanged a secretive expression with each other, before turning toward the door. Emma wasn't sure, but she thought she saw Ruby wink at her, making her want to melt into a gigantic purple pile on the floor. When the door clicked shut again, Emma was aware of her undergarments being secured back into place, a small smile curving her lips as August carefully retied the ribbon holding them together. Moments later, her skirt lifted and he carefully resettled the layers of tulle and the top layer of satin, grinning rakishly at her and licking his lips.
She attempted to glare at him. "You insane puppet! What if that was David or Mary—
Snow?"
"Why don't you just make it easier on yourself and call them Mom and Dad?" He chuckled, adjusting his clothing so that he didn't look quite so much like he'd just been hunched under a voluminous ball gown.
"It's weird," she sighed. "That would be like you finding out Ruby was your mom after mercilessly hitting on her when she was still into wearing Daisy Dukes and platform heels."
"I did not—"
"August." She leveled a dry look on him. "Lemurs."
"Okay," he laughed, putting hands up in defeat. "You win." She let him pull her into his arms, listening to his erratic heartbeat through the plush velvet of his midnight blue jacket.
"What about you…?" She asked, referring to the rather apparent bulge below his waist. He let out a cross between a laugh and a wince.
"Don't worry about me," he assured her, "You'll make it up to me later. It's your day." He brushed his lips over her forehead, running a finger over the delicate tiara placed in the golden curls. "Hmm, Princess Emma."
"Shut up," she grumbled, still hating the title, which clearly amused him to no end. "So, why were you late?" She demanded, changing the subject and raising a brow at him.
A slow smile spread over his face. "Later," he promised, pulling her flush against him and covering his lips with hers. "You have to mingle, remember?" He placed her hand in the crook of his arm, guiding her toward the door. She groaned, following him, though out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw him pat the spot over his heart as if to confirm something was there, in the inside pocket of his dress coat…
TO BE CONTINUED.