#as long as i smile and nod and obey everyone's orders and whims everything is fine.

[0boko]

.

[whatissleepeven]

I -

I can't stop thinking about it -

About what, you ask?

An Obey Me! and Fate/Grand Order crossover

(Warning: Long post ahead!)

Either the bois get summoned to Chaldea or they're able to summon Servants themselves

(...I'm leaning towards the first)

The tomfoolery! The shenanigans!

Imagine: Humanity's Last Master (aka you) ends up summoning them as they trek through Rome with Mash and the Servants they already summoned

They set up the summoning circle, but one minor mistake is made and the summoning glow looks a bit darker than usual and BOOM

"S-...Senpai...is this normal?"

You have no idea what's normal or not, I mean you're time travelling to save your people for fucks sake -

"Servant of the Rider Class. My True Name is Lucifer. Do not expect me to cater to your every whim."

...Wait he's a what now??

They were not supposed to have this whole "Class" thing designated to them (it's not how demonic summoning works he swears), and yet they do for some reason

(You can tell I had fun thinking of their Classes)

The introductions are...cold, to say the least

"Saber Class Servant, and none other than The Great Mammon, Avatar of Greed! I got better things to be doing, so don't go calling me whenever ya want, got it?!"

"Lancer Class...Leviathan. I have an mmorpg raid coming up, so I can't stick around."

"Berserker Class. My name is Satan. What? Are you surprised that I seem calm for a Berserker? It's quite alright; I get that reaction often enough. A word of advice: Be careful what you wish for."

"My name is Asmodeus, but you can call me Asmo darling! I'm a Caster, which is good. I can't mess up the work done on my nails and hair!"

"Hm...Oh? Sorry, I was thinking about lunch. Servant Class: Ruler. I'm Beelzebub, but most people call me Beel. Do you have any snacks on you?"

"Servant Class: Avenger. My name is Belphegor, but I doubt you'll be alive long enough to remember that. I won't do your dirty work for you, human."

You are just...done at that point. You are literally carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders and their attitudes are not helping

"Yeah, yeah, here's the gist: there's a war going on and we're trying to save the planet. The future's been incinerated, and it's our job to fix what went wrong. I don't have time for your uncooperation; get on board."

(Mash is worried for your mental health)

It takes some time, but they do manage to open up to you

The main catalyst for this is when they heard you talking to Robin Hood, who was summoned in France

"Say, Master...I gotta ask: Why are you doing this?"

You pause what you're doing, shooting him an incredulous look. "You mean saving the world?" You ask in return.

He shrugs, tilting his head forward in a slight nod. "Yeah. There's other people who could do this, aren't there?"

"There isn't." The brothers hear you say firmly. Beel almost went in because he wanted a snack, but the others held him back; the conversation had peaked their interest, and they wanted to hear what you had to say.

"Robin..." Your voice comes out strained, as if you were barely holding yourself together. "I watched innocent people die in front of me. Good people. The world outside is gone. I can't even go see my family, because they're dead. I'm not expecting you to understand, but it hurts so bad that somedays I don't feel like getting up. If I die, it's all over; humanity's done. I'll never be able to see my family's smiles again, I'll never be able to hear their laughter; I'll...I'll never be able to go back home.

"So, instead of asking why I'm doing this, you should be asking "How far are you willing to go?" instead."

Robin is silent for a while. Mammon shifts on his feet. The Green Archer finally speaks, somber but curious tone filling the air. "And? What's the verdict, Master?"

Your voice has a tone of finality to it that shoots them back to the past, back towards the Celestial War. It's final, but it's tired. "Whatever it takes."

(And, so, the brothers come to understand and even sympathize with your situation a little bit. You had to fight for the sake of others without rest, you were a leader, you were a savior, but most of all...you were alone. And something about that didn't sit right with them.)

They would fit in perfectly with Chaldea's dynamics, actually

Mammon has a gold sword he lovingly calls Goldie (yes it changes into his beloved credit card)

His Noble Phantasm is literally him raising his sword and mountains of Grimm burying his opponents from the sky as he cackles out:

"Don't worry, I'll take all that money off ya hands!"

Or, in a proud declaration:

"My sword is my love, and my love is my sin. I'll take all that you have on ya! STULTUS IN AVARITA!!"

(Translates (from Google) to "Greed of the Fool")

(It also gives you an increased drop rate in materials)

Leviathan's weapon is his trident

He's surprised that he wasn't summoned as a Rider, once he got used to the "Class" thing (which was fairly quick, he's seen an anime like this before). I mean, he has a giant snake named Henry 1.0 and Lothan that he would've loved to fight side by side with

He usually doesn't fight, but he proves to be invaluable in Okeanos since he has knowledge on war strategies at sea

His Noble Phantasm is a bit strange, but endearing (sad). He rushes forward with his trident glowing, saying either:

"I can't get the latest Ruri-chan merch because you blew up the world...I won't forgive you. I can't forgive you!"

Or, in a somber tone:

"Even though it's fun, a gamer's life becomes stifling if you keep playing by yourself. I hope you're watching, (Y/N)! EX SOLA INVIDIA!!"

(Translates (from Google) to "Envy of the Lonely")

(Chance of Death increases with Overcharge, and it hits a single enemy)

Satan? Even though he's a Berserker, he behaves more like a Caster (initially)

He's holding a book that shoots out beams of pure energy at his opponents

His Noble Phantasm is...more violent

"Ah, so you've decided to call upon my Noble Phantasm...don't blame me if it's too much for you."

Or, he begins in a deathly calm voice:

"I am me; that's all I need to be. I know this, so why...? Why does this happen? TELL ME! "

He discards his books altogether, grabbing a single enemy with his bare hands and ripping them to shreds.

Asmo’s skill is charming his enemy, which confuses most people since you’d think it’d be his Noble Phantasm

Instead, it boosts his allies’ attacks and NP by 30%

“Don’t get too hurt out there~!”

Beel’s Noble Phantasm heals all allies and increases their attack

“We can’t fight on an empty stomach.”

(Once he hits his last Ascension, your party gets the added bonus of him attacking a single enemy with a lance. All other Ascensions has him using his fists for attacks.)

Belphie’s Noble Phantasm is almost as violent as Satan’s, and yes...he chokes out a single enemy out (rip MC)

“HA! You think I’d work with the likes of you, a lowly human? Get out of my sight.”

It’s Instant Death, unless Evasion or Invincibility is activated

Lucifer’s pride is a bit wounded. He’s a Rider, of all things??

(...He eventually gets used to it though)

His Noble Phantasm is him literally mounting Cerberus and raising his spear towards the heavens, looking as radiant as the days before the Fall

“It seems drastic times call for drastic measures. Cerberus, I trust you to handle things here.”

And Cerberus runs forth, either chomping the enemy in two or breathing fire at them and turning them into ash. (It hits everyone)

Satan and Jekyll hang out a lot because, well...they’re a lot alike

Mammon can and will do stupid shit with the Cu Squad and you cannot change my mind

One time he teamed up with Cascu to steal the other Cu’s spears (Mammon wanted to sell them on Akuzon), and well...half of Chaldea is still in repair to this day

Merlin of all Servants is the one to look after Belphie and Beel

They usually hang out in the garden Robin tends to, Asterios occasionally joining them while bringing both food and Euryale

Asmo frequently visits Medea, dragging Medusa into their group

(Dantes grows fond of Beel overtime, I mean Beel is just so pure there’s no way you couldn’t like him)

Lucifer and EMIYA butt heads at first, but they end up becoming friends despite that

Lucifer admires EMIYA’s skill to keep up with Servants who have a black hole for a stomach, and EMIYA admires Lucifer’s skill to round up his brothers effortlessly when the need to arises (or so he thinks, because he does not know about the Hate Lucifer Club which is run by Satan and Belphie).

Levi and Fran have a pure kind of friendship that must be protected at all costs

He shows her new animes and games, and even though she’s confused most of the time she never fails to listen to his ramblings, nodding whenit was appropriate

BONUS: Undateables (+ Luke)!

Solomon’s situation is...peculiar.

He’s not a Servant, but he behaves like one??

(He’s actually a mage that helps you on your journey to save humanity)

Unlike Da Vinci, he’s able to accompany you to the Singularities (free of charge, too!)

Once he sees the other Solomon, all he says is “I see...interesting.”

(Ngl he probably figured out everything by the time you all went to Okeanos)

Asmo also drags him into his group (consisting of Medea and Medusa), offering to paint his nails as they talk about anything and everything

Simeon is a Lancer and you can’t change my mind

He’s more of a buffer for your team, like Asmo. His skills are primarily healing, and his NP saps the health of an opponent while healing someone other than himself with that health (he cannot heal himself)

He gets along great with Karna!! The two are so nice and kind that it hurts to look at them both for too long

Solomon tells him about the gossip Asmo has on the other Servants. He always listens with an amused look on his face.

Luke is a smol Caster, but he will not hesitate to break your kneecaps

He, too, is a buffer for your team

“I’ll defend you from those demons, (Y/N)!”

His Noble Phantasm heals all allies, restoring their health by 20%

He bakes with Fsn Cu at night, having Proto Cu and Robin Hood try out his sweets. Beel is there 10/10 times, eating any failures or rejects

Diavolo is Ruler Class because he is literally the Ruler of Hell

Surprisingly (to you, at first), he’s the one who always asks to accompany you. He’s very open and considerate, wanting to help wherever and whenever he can

“The Human Realm is essential if we are to establish harmony between the three Realms. Without it there...angels and demons would fight each other for eternity.”

He tells you about his ideas for an exchange program and you offer him input

His Noble Phantasm is applying Invincibility to two allies for 3 turns after dealing heavy damage to a single enemy (cannot apply Invincibility to himself)

He likes to talk with Caster Gil and Archer Gil about their past, going to Ko Gil on occasion. He helps look after the child Servants, and he can often be found reading bedtime stories to them

(Everyone was scared of him at first once they found out who he was, so he usually held off revealing his True Identity)

Barbatos, at first glance, seems like an Archer...but in reality is an Assassin

(HE CONTROLS TIME FOR F*S SAKE)

His Noble Phantasm, depending on the enemy selected, can revive a fallen ally and add them to the Sub Team

(This is only if the enemy that killed the ally is selected)

This stuns him for 3 turns no matter what

He likes to chat with the Tamamo that helps EMIYA in the kitchen. How the two are communicating without issues is up to anyone’s guess

[somethinglacking]

Within His Control

Summary: After learning the true Evol Kiro processed and experiencing the effect of it first hand, your mind comes up with more fun and lewd way to play with it. Of course, Kiro gets on board 100%

Rating: +18 Word count: 3292 Game: Mr. Love Queen’s Choice Warning: Spoilers for Chapter 14 Pairing: Kiro X Reader

Kiro explained his evol, and all it entailed to you. You listened carefully, asking questions when his explanation failed to be comprehensible for you — a lot of hacker jargon’ and a lot of rules of how the evol actually worked. You bit your lip, remembering when he ordered you to shut the door and lock it to keep everyone and anyone on the opposite side, including himself. Your eyes looked at him as you listened in wonder as the always cheerful man beside you smiled softly, and his thumb rubbed soothing, almost anxious circles into the back of your hand. You didn’t know if he was trying to calm you or himself. Possibly even both of you with his tiny action. You smiled, looking into the deep azure depths of his crystal eyes. 

“If you can control someone’s actions and mind like that then-”

“I swear that was the only time I used my ability on you! You have to believe me!” Kiro panicked his eyes wide begging for you to trust and believe him. 

You nodded as your leg bounced, and you fidgetted it. Kiro was frowning now at your anxious behaviour. You nodded to yourself, deciding to trust in the sincerity of his voice, and the way his brilliant blue hues pleaded with you. You looked at him, and he almost physically bulked as he prepared for your reaction to everything. You smiled at him, and the starlit relaxed a little and smiled back. His hand in yours tightened as he shifted a little, and a prolonged silence took over the room. You both focused on and collecting your thoughts before speaking further. 

You were the one to break the silence. “You know-” His eyes moved up towards your, his attention captured. You blushed and stared at the wall in front of you. “That could be really hot.” You mused, and he raised an eyebrow, clearly not understanding your thought pattern. “The mind control-” Your blush darkened. “Using it to control a partner during, uhhh, sex.” You whispered the last word like it was a complete taboo. You buried your face in your hands, and Kiro coughed as he choked on his own spit. Not that you could blame him, your attitude to his ability took a complete 360 turn. 

“Say what?” Kiro squawked, and you curled further into yourself. 

There was a heat collecting between your legs as you thought of the endless possibilities. Kiro’s eyes were so deep as they glazed over, staring at you clearly in thought. Your cheeks burned brightly with the forever blossoming blush. 

“You’re kind of naughty~” Kiro cooed, causing you to jerk your face towards him. He smiled brightly at you, a light pink dusting his own cheeks. “I never really thought of using my powers in a consensual way like that before.” The Idol mused. 

You huffed at his casual tone, never before had you both had a lewd conversation. Kiro looked at you and smiled with a wink. He doesn’t like playing fair apparently. “What exactly are you trying to get at?” You whispered, and his smile widened. 

“I guess if it were with you, I’d be willing to give it a shot.” He confessed so easily it made you choke on air. “What? Is it wrong for me to want to try out and be intimate with my precious miss chips?” 

“You don’t have to be so forward about it!” You defended yourself, and he laughed — a perfect melody of joy. 

“It isn’t like we haven’t had sex before~” He purred, shimming closer to you on the couch. His eyelids dropped just half a centimetre, but it was enough to make you want to fling your panties at him. “What are you doing acting so shy and cute for?” His voice took on a husk that had your body shivering in response. 

His lips ghosted yours, and you looked steadily into his endless blue eyes. “Thought you said you never used your evol for something like this before.” You whispered against his lips. 

Your hand cupped his jaw, and his gaze has you completely enamoured with him. Long digits caressed your cheek before making a home in your long locks. Kiro tilted his head ever so slightly to the side. “I haven’t. This is just regular old seduction, my treasure.” He cooed so perfectly before finally capturing your lips with his own. 

You already felt like you were lost under his complete will as his tongue slipped into our mouth, and both of your hands began to roam each other’s bodies. Slipping under fabric to feel the silky skin beneath. Your hands gripped Kiro’s shirt and helped you remove it, tossing it somewhere in his living room. After that, everything else you both wore followed. 

Soon enough, Kiro had you laid out comfortably against his sofa, his bare chest pressed against your own. You looked at each other through heavy lids, breath quickening.

"Are you sure?" Kiro whispered, kissing your nose as you took a moment to mull over what you were about to give your consent too. 

"Kiro~" You purred sweetly, caressing his face. He moved so his face was more level with your own. "I trust you." 

With those simple words leaving your lips, his eyes turned yellow, and the look of code and numbers found on a computer flashed within them. Your body froze beneath him, and you found yourself helplessly falling into the depths of his eyes. Free-falling and losing any will of your own. Only, unlike last time where this sensation confused and scared you, it thrilled you. It secured you. You smiled meekly, and Kiro smiled back before shushing you softly. His hands were caressing every inch of your naked body in a soothing movement. 

You gazed up at him, falling evermore into an abyss of his control. All rational thought left you, leaving you woven and bent to his mercy — nothing you could do as you slipped further under his spell, but trust. His lips moved, but you were nearly deaf to the buzzing as you free will slipped further and further out of your reach. 

“That’s it, baby, relax,” Kiro whispered directly into your ear. You shivered while whimpered needily. “I won’t hurt you, just breathe.” He cooed as you let yourself relax under his control. “You’re going to obey my every whim, your body will act on its own, but I promise to make you feel so good.” You smiled up at him, watching him closely with hazy vision. His weight felt good, pressing you against the mattress, secure and warm. 

At his mercy, your head lulled to the side against the pillow. His mouth met yours for a sensual kiss, one that set your nerves on fire, and made the fine hairs on your body raise. Tongue met and danced as you hummed in pleasure. Kiro groaned as the soft pets and rubs he was giving you before became rougher. The glided over your soft skin, exploring, teasing, soothing. When he gripped your breasts, you gasped and opened your eyes. You both adorned a lusty blush and heated blown eyes. Kiro’s large hands covered your modest bust, massaged, and teasing you pebbled nipples, pulling mewls of pleasure for you. 

“Cum.” He hissed, and your eyes widen as your body began to convulse under him. Your thighs shook as your cunt released and squeezed at nothing. A fire settled in your lower abdomen as you moaned out, and you twisted in pleasure. “That’s it, good girl.” His hands ran the length of your body, staying away from any pleasure points as your chest heaved, and your body began to relax once again beneath him. 

You felt dizzy having spontaneously orgasmed without any warning. You stared blankly up at the man before you, his golden eyes captivating you. “I honestly didn’t think you’d cum like that, without any simulation.” Kiro huffed, looking down at you with wonder. “I want to see what else I can make you do~” You groaned at his smile while beads of sweat rolled down your temple. 

Kiro shifted above you, kissing your forehead, cheeks, nose. He gave you a sweet peck on the lips before journeying further. Just tongue ran up the column of your throat. His teeth lightly scraping on the descent. You crained your head, allowing him easier access to your pulse. Latching on to the sensitive spot below your ear, he let out a deep groan, one that sent thrills right to your leaking core. “Kiro.’ You breathed, and he lapped at the mark he just gifted to you.

His response was continuing to kiss down your body. You could feel your desire drying on the inside of your thighs as the man before you took his time kissing every single inch of you. His face buried itself between your breast as he kissed, licked, and sucked his way to one of their peaks. You cried out as his hot mouth captured a nipple and sucked and nursed. Your entire being was begging.

Kiro took his time lavishing each tit with his attention before bringing his decent once more. His mouth was impossibly hot as he left a trail of salve over your stomach where is tongue circled your belly button. 

Eventually, he made himself comfortable between your legs — his face level with your swollen sex. You covered your face feeling exposed and shy. "Look at me." His voice called, and without any will of your own, you obeyed. You peaked down naked form towards the man brushing his fingertips around your pussy, teasing you. "Don’t take your eyes off of me. Watch me pleasure you." Your pussy throbbed at the lewd demand as you followed his order.

Kiro brought his mouth to your slick mount, his wet muscle dipped between your lower lips, and he took his time licking and sucking them. You moaned, shifting as his tongue lapped and caressed your wet lips like a tender kiss. Kiro ran the flat of his tongue over the engorged bud at the apex of your pussy. Using the tip of his wet muscle to flicking a couple of times before gently wrapping his lips around your pleasure point. He sucked, beautiful and piercing yellow eyes watching you as your noises picked up. No matter how embarrassed you felt watching him ravish your most intimate part, your body wouldn’t let you shy away. You’re eyes kept glued to his, and pleasure shivered down your spine. You felt your face distorting with pleasure. Still sucking your clit gently, his tongue to rub tiny circles to the bundle of nerves. Hands explored the contours of your body, enjoying the feel of you under his fingertips. Noises picked up, and he halted his assault on you for a moment, releasing a shaky breath before running the tip of his tongue in and around every fold of your delicate flower, making you moan out in ecstasy.

Just as you were about to reach your peak, Kiro's voice boomed. "You're not allowed to cum." 

Kiro sucked harder, using his tongue to massage your swollen and needy slit as your body shook. His tongue rolling your bud, and a gush of your juices run down his face. No matter what he did or the pleasure that recoiled within your entire being, you couldn't fall over the edge to orgasm. Tears spilled from your eyes as your body went taut with need and pleasure. It hurt as you ached, and your back arched off the mattress completely as you sobbed with bliss. 

 His eyes drank in every moment as you sang for him so perfectly. Oh, he definitely wasn't done with you yet. After all, he was in complete control of you, not wanting to waste the time he had with you under his spell. He released your swollen bud and let his tongue lap at your juices, letting the tip slip into your quivering hole, and he groaned, tasting you. His cock was weeping for attention as precum rolled down his shaft from the head. 

Removing his mouth from your sex, Kiro shot you a beaming smile, as his fingers danced back down, pulling your body towards him. You relaxed, gasping for breath as your cunt pulsed, swollen, and red. Your eyes were glassy, fogged over from your sexual high at the effect of his evol. How beautiful and perfect; such a relaxed expression suited you. Slowly as Kiro nibbled the flesh on your inner thing, letting his fingers run the length of your sex before two made they're way home within your entrance. The starlit thrust in and out slowly, making a slight come hither motion watching your beautiful pained expression. Kiro would never get tired of pleasing you.

“Tell me it feels good. I command you.” His yellow irises locked with yours, and your consciousness faded even further. 

“Yeesss. Kiro, please. You feel so good, baby.” You nearly sobbed, unable to stop the pleading that left your lips and your embarrassing words. 

The celebrity smirked at you as he pressed his fingers up into a soft spongy patch within, and started a come here motion as he assaulted you. He buried his face once again into your sex, tongue lapping your clit with a sense of urgency. Kiro ordered you to scream, so your voice bouncing off the walls. You had no choice but to comply as intense, almost overwhelming pleasure assaulted your entire being. He ordered you to be unable to think of anything but the bliss you were in as intense waves of pleasure wrecked your body. Kiro looked up at your beautiful expression, wanting you to build up your release and edge you further.

“You’re not allowed to cum until I tell you.” His voice held authority that nearly sounded foreign to your ears. However, under his spell, your body held onto the edge of your orgasm, but never truly let you cross over into the abyss of pleasure this orgasm was threatening to be. Tears left your eyes as your greedy cunt pulsed and clinched against the fingers probing and fucking into you.

The most delicious torture.

Kiro hummed as he sucked your clit, as he added more presser to that spot. The starlit would smirk if his mouth wasn't already occupied and buried in your pulsing cunt. You made the most divine moans, curses that where gasped in pure ecstasy made his cock twitch, begging to replace his fingers. Unconsciously he rolled his hips using your leg to relieve the ache within his length. He needed to hurry you along. "I'm about finger fuck you, hard, and you're going to scream as you cum," Kiro ordered bring his tongue to lap your clit once more. He shifted, so his arm had room to move. Eyeing you, Kiro started to move his fingers at a punishing rate, pressing upward and making a come here motion as he did so.

Kiro watched you crumble, look absolutely wrecked over violent tremors of your orgasm. "Good girl." He cooed as you twisted and writhed beneath him, tears running freely down your cheeks. He helped you ride out the waves while planting a few final kisses to your pulsing cunt as he removed his finger. Kiro kissed every inch of flesh as he worked his way up to your body. You sobbed still twitching. He allowed his hands to explore in a comforting way. "You did well, my sweetest treasure." The starlit assured you softly before finally making it to your mouth, kissing you deeply.

“I’m going to enter you.” He spoke, and your pussy involuntarily moistened more and clenched around itself. “I’m going to count my thrusts, and on seven, you will orgasm without fail.” The lust that took your features at his words had him chuckling. “You’re adorable. Even this completely ruined state, you offer the cutest expression, my love.” 

Kiro kissed your nose as she shifted above you. Strong arms wrapped around your body as he laid his weight comfortably across your body. Snug and secure his knees, nudged you to widen your legs for him. You complied completely willing to give yourself over to him and pleasure. 

It was crazy how good his cock felt as it pushed into you. The way your walls stretched and fluttered around his girth, all the ways the length pressed into you. You moaned as your fingers gripped his biceps for leverage.

 “That’s one.” He grunted when finished plunging the entirety of his length within you. “Look at me, baby girl.” He whispered breathlessly. Your eyes locked with his, and he kissed you with every ounce of love he could muster. You sighed as he broke the kiss and rested his damp forehead against yours. 

Nearly withdrawing from your completely and harmonizing his moan with yours as he let every inch slip back in with motive. He breathed out “Two” You felt like crying at how absurdly swollen your spent pussy was, and how amazing it felt to be filled up after so long. “That’s it, baby.” Kiro purred as sweat dripped from his body and rolled down yours. You looked up at him with teary eyes as he repeated his action, only fasted, making you squawk as his balls slapped your ass. “Three.” 

He kissed you deeply, picking up his pace and making you squirm and buck against his length every time his thrust into you. Kiro grunted the numbers into your mouth. “Four, Five, ahh~ Six, ready baby?” You’re body tensed up, preparing for the magical word to leave his lips and send you falling once more into the pit of desire and pleasure. “Seven~.” 

With that, he thrust into you urgently, your body convulsed, and a low moan left from deep in your throat. You felt a gush of liquid leave your body as your nails dug into any skin they came into contact with. Your hips bucked into him, wishing for nothing more than to keep the pleasure frying your every nerve ending going. 

Kiro was all sweat and pants now, the occasional curse that passed his lips fell on deaf ears. His hips smacked into you as your pussy gripped and sucked his cock into the very end of your core. He was climbing as you descend from your high. Your pupils were blown, and your hair matted to the sides of your face. “Kiro~” You gasped, and he was done. His rhythm was offbeat as he pounded his throbbing length into you and spilled his seed eagerly within your depths with every twitch. 

“I release you.” He sighed, pulling out, feeling his seed leak from your quivering hole as he rested his spent body on yours. His face buried between your breasts, listening to your heavy breathing, and rapid heartbeat. Your fingers waved themselves into his sticky and wet blond locks, petting and combing comfortably. You both rested enjoying your blissed-out state and basked in the afterglow of your tryst. 

You stared at the ceiling as your body became your own again. Kiro nestled against your bosom, keeping you warm beneath him. Your body felt fizzy, and your mind dizzy. You remembered every single moment, every command, every orgasm. You leaned down and kissed the crown of his head, gaining the attention of a pair of very blue and dazzling eyes. Kiro gave you a heart wrenching honest boyish grin as his cheek rested on your naked breast. 

“You okay, miss chips?” Kiro asked, his eyes displaying his worry. You couldn’t help but huff a little giggle at the use of your strange pet name. 

“Never better.” You assured him, stroking his cheeks, and smiling as he kissed your inner wrist. Special Thank you to @alloveroliver​ / @alloveroliver-ash​ for proof reading And too @tofuoto​ for being my horny little cheerleader

[mycandylavynder]

Christmas Dates

Castiel - Nathaniel - Rayan - Hyun

Priya

You arrive at the park a few minutes early. You pick a table to sit at and scroll through your phone as you wait patiently for Priya to arrive. You invited her out on a bit of whim after thinking about how supportive and understanding she has been toward you.

You do not have to wait long, because soon she appears bundled up in a navy blue coat and baby blue hat, glove and scarf set. Her long brown hair is down, tickling the back of her denim clad thighs. She smiles when she sees you and your heart dances inside your chest.

"Hey Candy, Merry Christmas." She says as she slides into the seat next to you.

"Merry Christmas!"

"So what made you want to go ice skating today?" She asks, lifting an eyebrow toward the large skating rink that is thrown together in the park every winter.

"I've never been." You say with a sheepish smile.

She suddenly grabs your hand as she stands back up. "Well what are you waiting for? Let's go get some skates."

You stand up, still holding Priya's hand as she pulls you to the rental booth. There is no one in line, so you both quickly order skates in your size. The employee adds up the total and you stop Priya before she can pull out her wallet. "I'm treating you today."

She gives you a playfully dubious look before smiling. You smile back, feeling a little helpless any time you look at her. You aren't quite sure what it is, but ever since coming back to town and rekindling your friendship with Priya, the flame between you two seems... different. Especially after that night on the beach where you danced and swam until you fell asleep together, things aren't the same as they were back in highschool. Or maybe they are, and the way you felt then is coming to light now. But what is this feeling coming to light?

"Are you alright, Candy? You look a little lost." She asks.

You shake your head. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry. I was just thinking I'm happy to be here with you." And you are.

She grins. "Me too. Let's put on our skates so we can test out the ice."

You both sit together on a bench and slide into your skates. Priya shows you how to lace them up, making sure the laces are tight and secure around your ankles. She helps keep you balanced as you stand awkwardly to your feet. You feel a little uncomfortable, but quickly find it isn't as hard to walk as you previously thought.

You find Priya's gloved hand again and hold it as you enter onto the ice. The ice feels slick and unpredictable beneath your feet as the blades of the skates slice into the ice. You give Priya's hand a tight squeeze and hug the gate with your other hand.

She laughs. "Don't worry Candy, it isn't as scary as seems."

You look around to see several people busting their tail bones on the ice and aren't too sure Priya is right.

She sees your doubtful eyes and laughs again. "Don't worry about it. I won't let you fall." She says, still guiding you along as you grip the fence. "I'll let you hold the railing for the first time around, just to get a feel for it, but after that it's you and me." She adds.

You nod, still trying to figure out the safest way to propel forward. After about halfway around the track you feel more confident on the ice. You don't hold the railing as tightly and you are able to glide forward easier.

When you complete your first lap around, you let go of the fencing. Priya carefully guides you away from the rail. "See, this isn't so hard." She says as she watches you glide beside her.

"Yes, but that's easy for you to say. You make everything look effortless." It's true. Every time she does anything, it looks good. Dancing, swimming, giving Amber hair cuts back at Sweet Amoris... you imagine that when she becomes a lawyer, she'll make destroying opponents in the court room look easy too. 

She laughs. "Oh please, you have no idea how many times I have fallen on ice. This rink has gotten everyone at one point or another."

You try to picture Priya falling on ice, but somehow you just picture her doing it in the most gorgeously graceful way possible. Priya adds, "But seriously, you are doing a wonderful job. The fact that you haven't fallen yet is impressive."

You roll your eyes. "Yeah. That's because I am going at a snail's pace."

"Did you want to speed it up?" Her tone is heavily implying a challenge as she lifts her eyebrow.

You smirk. How hard can it be to go a little faster? You are getting the hang of this after all. "Catch me if you can!" You say letting go of her hand and jetting forward.

"Hey!" You hear her call behind you with mock anger.

You zip past a couple of kids and barely dodge a tall man. You peek behind you to see Priya gaining on you. Pumping your feet faster, you fly forward.

You feel a pair of hands grab you from behind, throwing you off balance. You playfully scream as Priya tries her best to steady the both of you. It is to no avail. You both fall forward, quickly crashing into the hard ice.

A laughing fit conquers the two of you. Neither of you can stop laughing as she lays beside you on the ice. As you begin to calm down, you turn your head to look at her. Her eyes are piercingly blue. It's like staring at two massive glaciers, mysteriously cool and sharp as they slowly melt into you. It is simply breathtaking to see up close.

"Priya," you whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Your eyes are amazing."

She grins. "I like your eyes too, Candy."

You hear someone skate dangerously close to your head and sit up. She gets up too and helps you get to your feet. You dust each other off and get back to your adventures on the ice. The two of you skate around for a long time, holding hands and goofing off. When you finally had your fill of skating, Priya suggests grabbing some hot cocoa. You nod and head over to the concession stand and order hot chocolates with extra marshmallows. You pick a quiet little table off to the side to people watch. You sip hot chocolate, silently enjoying the company.

"Oh, Priya! I got you something." You say as you finally remember the package in your bag. You pull out the rectangular box wrapped in polar bear wrapping paper and hand it to her.

"Thanks, Candy. I actually picked something up for you too." She says pulling out a small box wrapped in green paper from her coat pocket.

You smile and take it from her hand. Priya begins to open her present, eager to see what is inside. She opens the box to see a knit light blue sweater. The sweater wraps around the front and hangs off the shoulders. "What do you think?" She asks as she holds the sweater against her body.

"I think it'll suit you nicely." You say with a smile.

"Me too. This is really cute, Candy. Where did you get it?"

"Leigh's shop."

She chuckles. "I should have known. I might have to change when I get home. I can't wait to try it on!"

"I'm glad you like it." You say relieved.

She makes a face at you to open your gift. And you obey. You rip the paper and open the box to reveal a pair of long dangling earrings with black tassels. You take them out of the box and wiggle them, watching the tassels shake like an amused child. Priya laughs at you. You stick your tongue out and put the earrings in your ears. You strike your best pose. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful, as always."

The way she says it makes you blush and you feel your heart beat a little faster. You take a sip of your hot cocoa to recover.

"So...uh...thank you. They are very cute." You finally manage to say. And then you remember why you invited her out in the first place. "You know, thanks again for helping Nina and me with that creep. And for doing the study group. ...And for going off on Nathaniel. That was very badass of you. And I definitely appreciate how supportive you have always been, in general. I am really thankful for our friendship, Priya. It means a lot to me."

She places her hand on your shoulder and smiles. "Don't mention it Candy. You know I'm always here for you.

"But can you believe that little smart-ass had the nerve to call me Pri-Pri? Who does he think he is?" She adds making a mock disgusted face.

You laugh. "Yeah, that was bold of him. He acts so... differently now. It's hard to believe he is the same guy we went to high school with."

"Yeah, I hope he can get his act together. Especially if he is hanging out with shady people like that creep."

"Yeah, me too. I just want him to be okay."

A moment of silence passes as you both let the subject die. You drink your hot chocolate and watch an old couple hold hands as they slide around the rink.

"So how is your thesis going?" Priya asks.

"So much better since our study sessions. I definitely don't feel as stressed about it as I did before."

"That's good. Your thesis was very interesting when I read it. I don't think you give yourself enough credit for how smart you are."

You feel your face heat up and take another sip of cocoa. You aren't sure what to say so you blurt out, "Did you memorize the Model Penal Code thingy?"

"See, you are brilliant. You remembered the name."

You playfully roll your eyes and she continues, "Yes I memorized the things I needed for class so I'm on track."

"Good. Next time we hang out though, we should watch another episode of Steven Universe."

She chuckles. "Yeah, definitely."

You both fall into a conversation about shows and cartoons, particularly, the favorites of your childhood. You keep chatting for awhile, soaking up the atmosphere and enjoying your drinks. You are having so much fun that you almost forget you have to catch the bus. You frantically check your phone.

"Oh crap! I have to go. I might miss my bus."

You quickly take off your ice skates and replace them with your shoes. Priya does the same. You hastily return the skates and race off to the bus stop together.

You are huffing and panting when you reach the stop. You definitely need to visit the gym more often in the new year. When you regain your ability to breathe, you catch sight of the bus turning the corner and coming into view further down the road. “Thank goodness I didn’t miss the bus!” You say a little breathlessly.

But when she doesn't respond you suddenly notice that Priya has been quietly staring up for a while now. You follow her eyes up to see a leafy green mistletoe dangling on the beam of the bus stop bench shelter. You flash Priya a curious stare and she returns it back, daring you with her eyes.

You slowly inch closer to her, closing your eyes as you bring your lips closer to hers. You’re so close that you are sharing the same breath just before your lips meet. You heart is pounding like you are standing at the edge of a cliff. Your brain tells you not to jump because it could be dangerous. But your body...your body craves the tightness in your gut and the weightlessness of free-falling. So you brace yourself to jump.

Her lips teasingly graze yours before pressing against them. Your body is going crazy at the softness of her lips. You slowly bring your hand up to softly stroke her cheek as you run your tongue over her lips. Her mouth tastes like cocoa and your mind is a bowl of mush as her tongue tangles with yours. You never imagined today would turn out this way. But you aren’t complaining.

You hear the bus approaching your stop and reluctantly pull away. You stare at Priya wild-eyed and dizzy, unsure of how to speak. The bus comes to a stop and you hear the doors open. Your eyes are still on Priya, who is as cool as the color of her eyes.

“Have a good Christmas, Candy.” she says, squeezing your arm as if you weren't just locking lips.

“You too.” You mumble, as you hug her. You let her go and get on the bus, completely overwhelmed with thoughts. You take a window seat and watch her wave goodbye as your bus drives off.

What just happened, you wonder. No one has ever kissed you that passionately before, certainty never a girl. You pull out your phone to listen to music, but aren’t able to drown out your thoughts the entire journey home.

Later that evening, you get a notification that you were tagged in a photo on Instagram. You open the app to see a selfie of Priya wearing the sweater you bought her. The sweater hugs all the right places as it hangs off her lovely shoulders. Your stomach flutters as you think about kissing her at the bus stop. The caption under the photo reads, “I think I just found my new favorite sweater! Thanks @Candylove XOXO.”

You grin and comment, “Np. That sweater was made for you. You look UH-MAZING! Thanks again for the earrings. I love them and so does my mom. Lol”

Looking at her picture and thinking about the kiss, you feel a wave of courage wash over you. You decide to send her a text message. “I just want to let you know that you don’t need a mistletoe to kiss me like that again...”

“Hmm... I will keep that in mind for the next time I see you then. ;)” She replies a few seconds later.

You imagine kissing her the second the ball drops on New Years. You smile like an idiot. “So what are you doing on New Year’s Eve?” You ask. They are having a New Year party at the Snake Room after all.

[redgillan]

Breaking the Rules - part 2

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary:  Modern!AU You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

Word Count:2,205

Warnings: The usual + Angst

A/N: I’m spamming you guys with fics lol sorry. Also please, don’t let this series flop, I beg you! Alright, I’ll stop whining now. Enjoy :)

Breaking the Rules - Masterpage

You woke up from your nap and stretched your arms over your head since there was no one sitting next to you. The book Bucky asked ordered you to read was on the empty seat next to yours. With a heavy sigh, you picked it up, threw it in your travel bag and left.

Bucky was waiting for you on the platform, his foot tapping impatiently. The next couple of days were going to be the longest of your life.

“Okay, so our weekend starts now,” you said, shoving your bag into his arms. “Rule #4 you have to carry my bag,” you reminded him.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m already carrying three bags. I am not a donkey!”

You took a step back and looked him up and down. Blowing out a frustrated breath, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He was carrying his suit on a hanger covered with plastic, a clip-on backpack and a messenger bag. The muscles in his jaw clenched when you shrugged.

“Not my problem,” you replied.

With a loud grunt, he slung the strap of your bag over his shoulder.  If looks could kill, you’d be dead by now. You tried not to show your amusement, but it was difficult to keep a straight face.

You fell into steps beside Bucky as you exited the station. His parents stood out among the small crowd, not only because of their size but because they were freakishly good-looking. His mother was waving her hand vigorously, a giant smile splitting her face.

“What’s your mom’s name?” you panicked.

Bucky’s head snapped toward you. “You didn’t read the book?”

“I fell asleep after the first paragraph. You have a very boring life.”

“For fuck’s sake! I have to obey your every whim, but you can’t read a few pages?”

“A few? It was over 200 pages, Barnes!” you whispered loudly as Bucky’s parents walked toward you.

“Stop calling me Barnes,” he hissed with a fake smile.

Mrs Barnes caught her son close in a bone-crushing hug, making him drop the bags. She pulled back to look at him, then hugged him again. Bucky hugged her back for a moment before he tried to wiggle away.

“Okay, let him breathe, Winnie,” his father laughed.

“I haven’t seen him in years.” She reluctantly let him go and gave him a disapproving look. “Why are you so skinny?”

“Ma’,” he whined, embarrassed.

Bucky was a lot of things, but skinny wasn’t one of them. His broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his jacket and his long muscular legs were encased in blue denim jeans, which he filled out quite nicely.

You blinked yourself back to reality, your face flaming hot. Realizing you must have spaced out, you cleared your throat.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs Barnes,” you said with a polite smile.

“Oh, please, call me Winnie. Mrs Barnes was his mother,” she said, gesturing to her husband.

His father introduced himself as George and held out his hand to shake yours. You stuttered slightly as you told him your name. Bucky was a carbon copy of his father, the only difference being that his father had more grey hair and wrinkles.

“We’re really happy to have you here,” he said, smiling brightly. “But we should get going or we might get caught in traffic.”

George gathered the bags and placed them in the trunk while you all took a seat. Bucky opened the door for you –rule #5- and sat next to you. You resisted the urge to squirm and turned your head to glance out the window.

The light of day was slowly fading into night and you focused your attention on the scarlet streaks flooding the darkening sky. It was so peaceful and quiet until Winnie spoke.

“Normally I wouldn’t allow you to sleep in the same bed, you’re not married after all, but since Nana is staying with us, we don’t have a spare room.” She looked over her shoulder to the back seat. “So behave.”

“Yikes! Don’t worry,” you replied and continued to stare out the window at the passing scenery.

She gave a satisfied nod and turned the radio on. You let go of the tension in your shoulders, lost in the comfort of the singer’s voice. You pulled out your phone and opened your text app. There was a message from an unidentified number.

‘Yikes, don’t worry’ ??? You sound so in love *eye-roll emoji*

You lifted your head to look at Bucky who was typing away on his phone. He pretended not to see you.

How did you get my number? you texted back.

Natasha.

You groaned out loud. Nat was a pain in the ass and you didn’t need her constant meddling. George peeked in the rear view mirror to make sure you were alright.

“Everything’s okay?”

“Oh, uh, yes.” You felt your face grow hot. “I just received a text from a weird man who keeps trying to befriend me.”  

A soon as the words left your lips, your phone buzzed in your hands. “Fartface,” was Bucky’s mature response. You saved his number under the name ‘Buttface’ and grinned to yourself as you pocketed your phone.

Soon after, George parked the car in the driveway that led to a beautiful two-story stucco house. There was a two car garage on the side of the house and the wraparound porch was crowded with fancy furniture, including a swing covered with pillows. It wasn’t a large house, but it looked like a nice place for kids to grow up.  

As soon as Winnie climbed out of the car, a girl ran toward her. She was tall, slender and had long brown hair with golden highlights.

“Becca just called,” the girl said, a little breathless. “There’s a problem with the car, but they’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’m gonna try and call her. Your brother’s here.”

Brushing a hand across her daughter’s shoulder as she passed her, Winnie climbed the steps to the porch and disappeared through the front door. George followed her into the house, carrying most of the luggage. 

You felt a pang of remorse; your rules only applied to his stupid son. Before you could take a step toward him, Bucky’s sister appeared before you.

“You must be Bucky’s girl. I’m Elizabeth, but everyone calls me Lizzie.” She smiled as she took your hand and shook it hard. “I’m so happy to finally meet you.”

You tried to smile, but her enthusiasm was a little too much to handle. It was late and you just wanted to eat and go to bed. Bucky caught his sister when she launched herself at him. He hugged her tight, closing his eyes for a moment. Lizzie pushed him away when he blew a raspberry on her cheek.

“We’re having a barbecue at Steve’s house. There’s plenty of food and stuff. You can freshen up and then we’ll eat!”

Bucky showed you around the house while his parents and sisters went to the neighbour’s house.

The kitchen had two accesses, one from the living room and another from the laundry room. The guest bedroom was at the end of the hall between the master bedroom and a two-piece bathroom. 

The living room was connected to a stairwell that went up to the second floor. At one end of the hall were Bucky’s bedroom and a bathroom and at the other end were three bedrooms.

“How many sisters do you have?” you asked, once you were in his bedroom.

“Now you wish you had read the book, uh?”

“Kind of,” you admitted.

You looked around you, glancing at the simple bed against the far wall. You had expected to see a large bed and posters of bikini-clad girls on the walls, but there was none of that. It was like being inside a time capsule. Back to the 00s.

Bucky sat down in the old swivel chair behind his desk and clapped his hands once, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Okay, let’s recap. I’m the oldest, then it’s Rebecca. You saw Lizzie downstairs, she graduated from Brooklyn Law School last year and Mary’s still in high school.

“My dad did two tours in Iraq and now he runs a restaurant with my best friend, Steve, who lives next door. My mom’s an accountant.”

You nodded. Your mind was racing, trying to process all the information Bucky had given you. It wasn’t easy, mostly because you didn’t care, but also because it had been a long and tiring day.

“I think I’ll remember,’ you said, rubbing your temples. “Where are you going to sleep?”

“There’s a sleeping bag under the bed,” he replied. “It’s old, but it’ll do.”

“Okay. Can we go now? I’m starving.”

Five minutes later, Bucky led you into the backyard of his neighbour’s house where his family was waiting for your arrival. Bucky introduced you to his sister, Mary, his best friend, Steve, and Steve’s wife, Peggy. 

You sat between Mary and Bucky and smiled politely as Winnie passed you a bowl of creamed green peas.

You made small talk with Bucky’s sisters, even though you hated the awkwardness of it. You found out some juicy gossip about Bucky and made a mental note to tease him about it later. Steve and George were talking about the restaurant while Winnie scolded her only son.

“You never call, you never visit. We didn’t even know you had a girlfriend!” she said, nodding toward you.

“Ma’, I’m sorry. I just have a lot of work, y’know. But I’m here now.”

Winnie waved her fork at him before she stabbed a slice of melon. “We’ll talk about this later.”

You heard Bucky gulp and you almost felt sorry for him. He knew his mother would nag him about it. She always had to be right and have the last word about everything.

You were so caught up in Mary’s story that you didn’t notice that Bucky had left the table. He had quietly slipped into the house with Steve and Peggy. The couple had some news they wanted to share with him, but they were afraid of his reaction.

“So,” Steve broke the silence after Peggy gave him an encouraging nod. “Your girlfriend seems great. You finally hav-”

“She’s a fucking pain in my ass,” Bucky groaned. “I thought I could do this, but I can’t. It’s impossible.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m not dating her,” he explained, rolling his eyes as they stared at him, confused. “Seriously? You really thought we were dating? C’mon, we have nothing in common and she stands three feet away from me like I have the plague or something.”

Peggy snapped out of her confused state. “Who is she?”

“My neighbor’s best friend. Honestly, it was her idea. We can’t stand each other.”

“But... but...” Steve babbled, unable to form a coherent sentence. “Why?”

Bucky took a deep breath, hoping it would calm his nerves. “It’s just... I can’t show up alone, y’know? I can’t let Dot win. She needs to see that I’m happy and in love.”

“Bucky, don’t do that to yourself.”

He bit back in a silent groan. He knew it was crazy, but he hoped that his friends would understand why he had to do it.

“Ah, there you are! I thought you were hiding from me.”

His body automatically cringed at the sound of your cheerful voice. It sounded so fake. He knew you were enjoying this.

“What do you want?” he asked abruptly.

“Oh, you’re a Grumpy Gus today,” you exclaimed with a fake gleeful laugh and gave him a pointed look. A look that said ‘If you don’t calm down they’re gonna know we’re faking it.’

“They know we’re not really dating.” Bucky gestured loosely toward Steve and Peggy.

“Thank God!” you breathed out, dropping the act. “It’s exhausting having to put on an act all the time.”

“You don’t even look like you’re in love with me.”

“Oh, cry me a fucking river, Barnes!”

He opened his mouth to snap back a retort, but before he could, Peggy cleared her voice, reminding him that they were still in the room. There was no doubt in their minds that you and Bucky were faking a relationship.

“Oh, yeah, you wanted to tell me something, right?” Bucky suddenly remembered.

“I’m pregnant,” Peggy blurted out.

You felt Bucky tense next to you. He didn’t say anything, he just looked at them with an icy glare. Steve and Peggy waited for him to say something, but long minutes passed and a palpable tension began to build.

“Congratulations!” you said, giving them your best smile. “Sorry, it’s been a really long day. I think we should go.”

Bucky didn’t look at you as he bolted out of the room. He mumbled an apology to his parents and headed back to the house. You had to run to catch up with him.

“What’s the matter with you? You’re acting like a real jerk. Can’t you be happy for them? This may come as a surprise to you, but not everyone wants to fuck around all their lives.”

He spun around so fast that you almost crashed into him. “You don’t know me, you don’t know anything!”

He rushed up the porch steps and slammed the front door behind him.

Part 3

[pocket-anon]

A Fairytale Beginning (8/9)

A thousand apologies that this chapter took almost a week longer to turn out than I originally anticipated. It just kept getting longer and longer, and, OMG, the editing alone took three or four days, LOL. Thank you to everyone who waited so patiently and sent me words of encouragement as I tortured myself with this thing. I've been very anxious about this chapter in particular, in part because I know how much some of you have been looking forward to a certain ballroom scene. I desperately hope it was worth the wait. Thank you so much for reading!  

Find it on AO3 and FFN.  Missed a chapter?  Get caught up here.

Summary:  Killian Jones, the notorious Captain Hook, has been on a quest to kill the Dark One and avenge the death of his first love for over one hundred fifty years. But when he crosses the Evil Queen, he’s magically transported to New York City, a strange land full of fascinating wonders, the foremost of which is Emma Swan, a cynical single mother with no time for fairy tales, real or imagined. A Captain Swan Enchanted AU.   (Captain Swan modern AU, Captain Swan Enchanted Forest AU.  Romance & Adventure.  Rated T.)

Tags as requested: @timetravelingpotatoast, @piratesails, @storybrookeswans, @optomisticgirl, @juneqparis

Smee’s head swims as he watches the Queen slip his heart – his heart – into a little velveteen pouch.  It’s been a hundred and fifty years since he’s witnessed magic like this – since the Dark One killed the Captain’s love on the day that changed their lives forever – but never once has he considered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of it himself.  He blinks as his breathing slows, the seconds ticking by with surreal sluggishness.  He feels… hollow; like himself and yet somehow oddly detached.  As excruciating as it was to have his heart torn from his chest, nothing hurts now – quite the opposite.  Everything just feels… a little less. And maybe, given the nightmarish situation he suddenly finds himself in, that’s just as well.

“H-how—” He stuns himself with his ability to speak.  “How will I find him?”

To his relief, the Queen isn’t enraged by his question.  Indeed, ripping his heart out seems to have quenched her anger for the time being, as though she’s derived some great, twisted satisfaction from it.  She reaches into the plunging neckline of her dress and pulls out a small glass vial, looking smug.  Smee’s eyes widen when he recognizes the contents.

“You know what these are?”

He nods stiffly, gulping at the sight of the white beans.

“He used one to go to the Land Without Magic,” she explains, “Fortunately, I have a few more left in my possession.  One of these will send you there.  You will use the other to bring him and the stone back to me.”  Her hand closes around the vial.  “Go get something small that belongs to him.”

The sudden, inexorable compulsion to obey her catches him off guard, and he’s turned and set off for the Captain’s quarters before he knows what he’s doing.  He’s struck by another pang of numbing fear as he realizes that Queen’s control over him isn’t merely based on the threat of death, but that the witch can literally force him to do her bidding like a puppet on a string now.  Dear Gods.  He descends the ladder into the Captain’s quarters and steals a moment for a deep breath, clapping his hand to the top of his head.  Even the soft feel of his grandmother’s knitting beneath his fingers is of little comfort.  He’s not sure anything can save him now.  

The room is tidy as ever, the way the Captain always leaves it when he departs the ship.  Smee’s eyes dart around nervously as he considers his options.  Something small.  He turns right and moves toward the shadowy shelves in the corner where the Captain keeps trinkets and trophies from past conquests.  Smee swallows.  After a lifetime of not being allowed to touch the Captain’s things without permission, it feels surreal to be looking through his effects, and despite the urgency of the situation, he still takes care not to disturb the items too much as his hand hovers over each in turn.  Most he passes over.  He needs something that belongs to him, not a stolen piece of memorabilia.  At last his gaze falls upon a carved wooden box, and he flips the lid, feeling a modest surge of triumph at the sight of the gloved fake hand the Captain wears in lieu of his hook when circumstances call for less notoriety.  Smee snatches it up, closes the box, and dashes back to the deck.

The Queen raises an eyebrow, her expression almost incredulous when she sees what he’s brought back.  “Interesting choice,” she comments dryly.  “Very well.  Hold it tight.”  She produces another tiny vial, this one full of a light blue liquid, which she uncorks and sprinkles on the attachment.  The liquid vanishes magically as it strikes the black leather.  “This is a locator potion,” she explains.  “It causes an object to return to its rightful owner.  You can’t cast spells in the Land Without Magic, but an item that’s already enchanted should still work there.”

No sooner has she spoken when Smee feels the hand begin to pull away, and he gasps.

“Don’t lose it,” she snaps.  “We can’t have you wasting time bumbling around trying to find him on your own.”

He nods hurriedly and tucks the hand into one of his inner coat pockets, buttoning it closed to secure it.  “What if he won’t come?  There aren’t many who could subdue the Captain if it comes to swords,” he points out, his words laced with anxiety.

The Queen sneers.  “Fortunately for you, I’ve considered that as well.”  She pulls out one final bottle and waves her hand over it. The clear liquid inside briefly glows a bright purple.  “A sleeping curse,” she says.  “Whoever drinks it will fall into an eternal sleep, and believe me, they won’t have pleasant dreams.”  She chuckles darkly.  “If he won’t cooperate, put it in his food or drink.  He has to take it willingly.  The magic won’t work if you force it down his throat.  If you have to use it, I don’t care what happens to his body.  Just bring me the stone.”

Smee stares at the bottle uneasily, nodding his understanding as she hands it and one of the two magic beans over.  “A-and if I succeed?” he asks, sealing them in a small purse.

“Then I won’t kill you,” she says through bared teeth. “Now go.”  She stalks over to the starboard rail with the remaining bean in her palm.  Her other hand makes a flinging motion, and it soars away and drops into the ocean at a distance from the ship.  The seas open up into a swirling, luminous torrent which funnels to the depths below, the sudden disturbance in the waters causing the Jolly to rock precariously in her moor.

Every man rushes to the side to get a better look. “Roberts!” Smee bellows to the quartermaster, tugging his hat down tighter on his head, “If we don’t return in three days, you have permission to take the ship and go.”  He squints at the distance between them and the stormy portal. “How am I supposed to get out there?” he asks the Queen.

Her wine-colored lips curl into a saccharine smile. “Allow me.”

His scream dissolves on the wind as her magic abruptly propels him over the side of the ship, hurtling him through the air in a long arc, arms and legs flailing, toward a new world and an uncertain fate.

 *                             *                             *

 Killian and Henry return from the costume shop and resume their swordplay instruction in the basement with a good hour to spare before Emma returns.  They hear her steps overhead a little after four, and moments later she calls down from the basement door that there are cookies in the kitchen if they’re hungry and she’s going to get dressed for the ball.  The door shuts softly, and her footsteps disappear upstairs.  

Henry turns to Killian.  “I should go put my costume on and get my stuff together,” he says eagerly. “Avery and his mom are coming at five.”

Killian nods, leaning his blade back against his shoulder and dipping into a little bow with a grin.  “Very well, young master.  Dismissed.” He chuckles as the boy clamors up the stairs in a jumble of wind-milling limbs.  

Killian retrieves his scabbard and sheaths his cutlass with a sigh, supposing that he ought to follow Emma and Henry’s example and change clothes as well.  He considers his costume where it lies in a protective bag on the sofa.  He can allow himself one evening of diversion in order to keep his word to Walsh’s friend.  But tomorrow, he resolves, scooping up the clothes and heading for the bathroom, tomorrow he finds a way to destroy the stone.

He has to admit, he doesn’t mind the brown coat. It’s not nearly as heavy as his everyday one, and the finery of it – the silky, quilted material, the cottony black lining that matches the waistcoat, the stamped detail in the little metal buttons – reminds him of a different time.  A time when Liam was alive.  A time when they were young and optimistic.  The bathroom mirror reflects his bittersweet smile as he scrutinizes his appearance and brushes the hair out of his eyes.  Killian breathes a sigh, reaching for his belt and double-checking the attached pouches, determined not to let the Sea Star out of his sight.  

On a whim, he pulls out the compass, grimacing at the dented cover and the ugly crack in the glass.  Much to his disappointment, the needle remains still, no matter which way he turns, and his jaw tightens with frustration.  Worthless.  When he returns to the Enchanted Forest, he’ll have a freshly broken heart and still no way to find the Dark One’s dagger.  He sets the compass aside on the sink counter.  Perhaps, he thinks sourly, the Fates intend to keep him spinning his wheels for another few decades.

When he arrives in the kitchen, he finds Henry wearing the knight costume and munching on what he assumes is one of the aforementioned cookies.  The lad’s green eyes light up when he sees the brown coat, and he pauses mid-chew. “That looks really cool.  You make a good prince.”

Killian grins and gives a flourishing bow, arms extended on either side.  “Why thank you, Sir Henry.  You make a very noble knight.”

Emma’s son giggles and goes back to working on his cookie, a round biscuit dotted with chunks of chocolate.  He points toward a plate on the counter which holds a dozen more. “These are my favorite,” he says through a mouthful.  “You gotta try one.”

The cookie is soft and sweet and truly indulgent, and Killian is licking a chocolate smear off his thumb when Emma’s voice rings out from the staircase.

“Henry, where are you?”

“Kitchen!”

“I need help with this thing.”  They hear her pick her way down the stairs and then bustle through the living room.  She halts abruptly as she rounds the corner, her eyes growing huge when they land on Killian.

Killian stares back in wonder.  It’s as though Emma Swan is an angel revealed, and, Gods, she’s the most beautiful thing he thinks he’s ever seen, a divine vision in a diaphanous silvery ball gown.  Her tightly-draped bodice is held up with narrow straps that leave most of her exquisite neck, shoulders, and décolleté bare, the V-shaped neckline allowing a modest glimpse of the tops of her breasts.  Silver flowers and wispy, gossamer feathers accent the bodice and wind around her bare upper arms, and a full, floor-length skirt blooms out from her tiny waist.  Her hair is coifed in a loose bun at the back of her head with a few gentle waves left next to her face, and a jeweled band of matching silver flowers and sparkling crystals is nestled amongst her gold locks.  

She blinks at him with long, dark lashes, and her ruby-red lips part in surprise as she takes an involuntary step back, the shimmery, almost gauzy fabric of her skirt rustling softly and telegraphing the movement of her hips.

Killian shakes himself out of his stupor, his face a mask of wistful veneration.  “You look stunning, Swan,” he says quietly.

Emma rotates her head slightly to the side, her eyes flitting up and down his ensemble.  “You… look…”

He smirks, despite the hint of color that appears in his cheeks.  “I know.” He chuckles when she rolls her eyes – angel though she might be, Emma Swan is still Emma Swan.

“Do you like it, Mom?” Henry asks.  “We made him a prince for Halloween!”

Emma narrows her eyes suspiciously.  “Who’s ‘we’?”

Her son has the decency to look a tad guilty.  “I took him to see Mr. Castro while you were gone.”

“Henry…”

“I know, I know…” Henry grumbles.  “I didn’t tell you I was going somewhere.  But I had Killian with me, and we were fine!”  

She shifts her hard look to Killian and arcs an eyebrow in silent reprimand.

“I assure you, Swan,” he says, regarding her calmly, “Nothing will ever happen to the boy while he’s in my charge.”

The solemnity of his pledge seems to surprise and mollify her.  She opens her mouth as if to say something and then clamps her lips shut.  “No more secret outings,” she declares sternly.

Henry grins.  “Done.”

Emma sighs and reaches behind her back, arching awkwardly. “Now come help me with this zipper.”

It’s Henry’s turn to roll his eyes, but he obligingly trots over as if he’s well accustomed to this responsibility.  She turns for him, and they can see that the back of her dress is incompletely fastened.  Emma tries to watch over her shoulder as Henry locates the tiny metal tab in question and gives it a tug.  It slides upward all of an inch before he runs into resistance and the zipper refuses to move any higher.  Henry tries harder with a grunt.  “Ugh. It’s stuck.”  They watch him make a few more attempts, to no avail.  He steps back.  “What do we do?”

“Um… here.”  Emma walks over the dining table and rifles through her purse, producing a tiny jar which she hands him.  “Pull it back down a little ways and put some lip balm on the teeth,” she instructs him. “Just don’t use too much, and try not to get any on the dress.”

Henry eyes the jar dubiously, but shrugs. “’Kay.”  He dips his thumb and index finger into the jar and follows her instructions, smearing the waxy substance on both sides of the zipper.  His freezes as he goes to reach for the tab again, shooting a look at his hand.  “Uh, hang on.”  He looks at Killian.  “You try. My fingers are all slippery,” he says, abandoning the jar on the counter and moving toward the sink.

“Uh…”  Killian clears his throat, eyeing the expanse of creamy skin running from the nape of Emma’s neck down to the middle of her back.  She catches his gaze out of the corner of her eye and turns salmon, but she doesn’t object and quickly turns her head away.  He steps forward, taking care not to snag the tip of his hook on the fabric of her dress as he uses it to carefully brace the bottom of the zipper. His fingers close around the tab, and his mouth runs dry when his eyes trace the light scattering of freckles on her back down past her shoulder blades to the top edge of her corset, the delicate eyelet lace detailing taunting him into wondering what the rest of it looks like.  Even with the applied balm, there’s a fair amount of resistance, but he manages to slowly coax the zipper tab to the top.  Emma shivers as he exhales upon her neck, gooseflesh rising on her shoulders, and he wonders, not for the first time, whether it’s good or bad that she seems as affected by him as he is by her.

Killian steps back quickly.  “Um, there.”  

She turns back toward him, looking childishly shy as she tucks one of her curls behind her ear, and he smiles despite the pressure in his chest.  

“Perfect,” he murmurs.

She fusses over an imaginary wrinkle in her gown. “It’s, um, it’s supposed to be a princess dress,” she says.  “As in The Swan Princess.”  She raises her eyebrows at his lack of reaction.  “The story?  Is that not an actual person in the Enchanted Forest?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” he says.  “Henry, I thought you said Halloween was about dressing as someone you’re not.”

Henry dries his hands on the dishtowel. “Yeah?  So?”

The corner of Killian’s mouth turns upward softly. “Your mother seems to have missed the objective.”

She rolls her eyes, but the heat in her cheeks is telling.  “I’m no princess.”

He chuckles.  “I wouldn’t be so sure, love.”  He sacrifices caution in the name of good form and reaches for her hand, his thumb drifting across her knuckles as he raises it to his lips.  His eyes return to her face when he straightens, and his heart accelerates at her breathless, albeit embarrassed, expression.  

A jarring series of loud knocks lands on the front door.

“Avery’s here!” Henry crows, scooting toward the front of the house.

Emma lets him by before gathering her skirts and following.  “Why is he using the knocker?”

Henry turns the bolt back and throws open the door.

Killian nearly catches the toe of his boot on the edge of the rug when he registers the familiar wide-eyed face at the threshold. He squints.  “Smee?!”

Standing on Emma’s stoop, a realm away from where he should be, William Smee looks up, his eyebrows disappearing up past the edge of his hat and relief washing over his features.  “Captain!”

Emma stiffens, looking back at Killian with confusion.  He carefully side-steps her, and Henry moves to let him through, the boy’s neck craned upward as he looks excitedly back and forth between the two pirates standing at his front door.

Killian gapes at his first mate.  “What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“I came to find you and bring you home, Sir,” Smee replies, clutching his gloved hands in front of his chest.

“Killian?”  

The small sound of Emma’s voice causes him to turn. She comes forward and rests a protective hand on Henry’s shoulder, her eyes filled with caution and disbelief.                                                          

Killian gestures.  “Swan, this is Mr. Smee.”

Smee’s rounded jaw goes slack at the sight of Emma in her ball gown, and he gazes at her, entranced, for several seconds before remembering himself and hurriedly tugging his cap off to reveal the rarely-seen brown curls beneath.  “Milady,” he says with an awkward little bow.

“Uh, hi.”  Emma shoots Killian a questioning glance, and he manages the shadow of a reassuring smile.  The autumn chill blows in through the open door, and she shivers visibly, her eyes flitting critically between the two men before she makes up her mind and beckons with her hand.

Killian steps back.  “Come in,” he instructs Smee gruffly, his voice low, “And on your best behavior.”

“Yes, Sir.”  The shorter man shuffles inside, his hat still clutched in his hands.  He looks around with interest and awe as Killian shuts the door behind him.  

Questions and conflicting emotions battle for dominance in Killian’s mind as he secures the lock and clears his throat.  “These are my friends,” he explains.  “The Lady Emma Swan and her son, Henry.  They have been kind enough to be my hosts.”

Smee gives another hasty dip of his head.  

“You’re from the Enchanted Forest too?” Henry asks, lips parted in a fascinated grin as he studies Smee’s heavy brown wool coat with weather-beaten leather trim and matching gloves.  “You’re Killian’s first mate, right?”

The lad’s casual use of Killian’s first name bewilders Smee, and the man blinks dumbly at Henry for a second before he nods.

Killian pinches the bridge of his nose.  “How is it that you’re here, Mr. Smee?” he asks impatiently.

Smee’s bright blue eyes hold more nervousness than usual, and he licks his lips.  “The—the Evil Queen, Sir.  She came to the Jolly.”

Fear and bile rise in Killian’s throat.  It’s as he suspected then – the witch is seeking him and the stone.  He silently curses his continued presence in Emma and Henry’s home, especially as Emma’s shaken expression floods him with guilt.

“She said you stole the Sea Star from her and escaped here, to the Land Without Magic,” Smee stammers.  “So I...  I made a deal with her.”

A storm flashes across Killian’s brow.  “You what?” he barks.

Smee flinches.  “We had to try to get you back, Sir.  The crew needs its captain.”

Killian runs his hand down over his face.  “What kind of deal?” he asks more quietly, voice edged with dread.

Smee fidgets in a way that promises ill news. “I convinced her I could get the stone back for her if she’d give me a way to find you.”

Killian narrows his eyes, thoughts racing.  “She gave you a bean.”

“Two,” Smee corrects eagerly.  “One to get home.  And this.”  He fumbles with one of his coat pockets and produces Killian’s fake hand.

Killian frowns at the unexpected sight.

“She enchanted it to find you,” Smee explains.

Emma gasps and Henry utters a delighted “Whoa…” as Smee releases the prosthetic and it floats eerily toward Killian.  Killian snatches it out of the air with a huff, the magic dissipating and gravity giving the hand its normal weight as soon as he touches it.  

“Is that your hand?!” Henry asks with delighted disgust.

Killian gives it to him to inspect.  “Merely an attachment,” he answers distractedly.  He fixes his first mate with a skeptical look. “Not that I don’t applaud your sentiment, Mr. Smee, but what exactly do you expect to happen when we return?”

Smee fidgets.  “I thought you might give the stone back and perhaps she’d— ”

“No.”

“B-but Captain—”

“No,” he grinds out, doing his best to keep his temper in check in Emma and Henry’s presence.  “Do you know what she wants with it?”

Smee stares blankly.  “Sir?”

“She needs it for a curse that will kill all of Snow White’s people,” he growls.  “That stone is worth thousands of lives, Smee.  I may be a pirate, but I will not be complicit in such a plot.”

The blood drains from the other man’s face, his silence heavy with new understanding.

Killian sighs, and his eyes sweep the floor as he falls into thought.  

“We have some time,” Smee volunteers meekly. “I’m sure you can figure something out.”

Killian looks up.  “How much time?”

Smee drops his gaze to the cap he’s still subconsciously wringing in his hands.  “She didn’t say exactly, but I told Roberts he could sail the Jolly out of Longbourn if we didn’t return in three days.”

Killian considers this.  Three days.  If he’s learned something in all his years of adventuring, it’s that time is as valuable a resource as anything.  Three days to come up with a plan.  He glances at Emma and Henry.  Three days to say goodbye.  He swallows, trying to harden his heart against the tidal wave of melancholy that crashes upon it.

His eyes meet Emma’s.  “We need to destroy the Sea Star as soon as possible.”

She blinks rapidly as she stares back at him, looking lost.

“Emma,” he murmurs.  “Please.”

His use of her first name seems to ground her, and he can see the disbelief fade from her eyes as she steels herself.  “I… I know someone,” she suggests with a grim nod. “He has a machine shop on Long Island. If the stone is as fragile as Hal says, a hydraulic press should crush it to dust.  I can make a call.”  

They watch as she retreats to get her phone.  “Quite a nice place you’ve found,” Smee comments nervously.

“Aye,” Killian answers, throwing Henry a small appreciative smile.  “Henry and his mother have shown me far more hospitality than I deserve.”

“Where is the Sea Star now, Captain?”

“Where a good pirate keeps all his most valuable treasures, Mr. Smee.”  Killian reaches beneath his coat and produces the leather purse that holds the stone, displaying it briefly before tucking it back away.  “On his person.”  

Smee nods, his eye lingering on Killian’s unfamiliar attire.  “And why the change in clothes?”

Killian sighs, having nearly forgotten about the party. “There’s a ball tonight,” he explains. “Today is a holiday in this world where it’s traditional to dress in costume.”  His brow wrinkles as he considers what to do with his wayward crew member.  “I’m afraid I have to leave you on your own this evening.  I’ve agreed to escort a friend of Emma’s to the festivities.”

“What do I do while you’re gone?”

“Um…” Henry glances around, “Stay here.” He runs over and grabs the controller for the big black screen where he plays games. “Watch TV.”  He presses a button, and the glass blazes to life with images of a car racing down a seaside road accompanied by dramatic music.  “C’mere.”  He flops himself down on the sofa.  

Smee stares agog at the moving picture for a long moment before anxiously looking to Killian for a permissive nod before he follows Henry obediently to the living room, his round eyes fixed once more on the TV screen as he lowers himself onto the seat.  Henry leans over and shows him the controller, his little finger pointing at various buttons while he proceeds to talk the befuddled pirate through the concepts of “volume” and “channels.”  

Killian leaves them to it, turning away and wandering to the kitchen where Emma is on the phone with her friend.  She faces away from him, her eyes focused out the back window while she feigns cheerfulness for with the man on the other end.  “I’m so sorry for the late notice,” she says, “But you know how kids are.  Henry didn’t say anything about this project until today, and it’s due next week.” She pauses, listening.  “It’s just a bunch of stuff from around the house. Some old Legos, a baseball, a big sparkly paperweight, a bag of marshmallows.”  She opens a drawer full of knickknacks and surveys the contents. “A phone book, a padlock.”  She nods at something the man says.  “Yeah, we just want to crush stuff and get it on video so he can show it to his class and talk about how different materials behave under pressure.  If you can run the machine for us, we’ll do the clean-up and everything.  Whole thing should take an hour, tops.”  She glances over her shoulder and makes eye contact with Killian.  “Tomorrow afternoon?  That’d be great!” she gushes.  “Thanks so much.  We owe you.” She chuckles.  “Okay.  We’ll see you then.  Bye.”  

Emma ends her call with sigh, her lighthearted mask falling away.  “Tomorrow at two,” she reports, weariness creeping its way back into her voice.

Killian nods gratefully.  “Thank you.”

The worry in her eyes is obvious as she draws closer.  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she says softly.

He forces a little smile and nods again, though he knows she sees his own concern.  “I’ll think of something, Swan,” he murmurs back.  “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s surviving.”

The corner of her mouth curves weakly.  She tips her head toward Smee and Henry.  “What do we do with him?  Do you want to skip the ball and stay with him?”

Killian shakes his head.  “I gave my word to Walsh’s friend, and it’s bad form to disappoint a lady,” he says.  “Smee will be fine.  Is it alright if he stays here while we’re gone?”

Emma’s brow furrows with reservation.  “Is it alright if we leave a pirate who doesn’t know the first thing about the modern world unsupervised in my home?”

“He’ll behave,” Killian says calmly.  “As unimpressive as he looks, he’s fairly clever and very loyal.  He’ll do as I tell him.  He won’t disturb your things.”  He smirks. “I have a feeling your… TV?” he glances at her for confirmation, “I think the TV will be more than enough to occupy him.”

She snorts, relaxing a fraction.  “With 500 channels, it better.”  A thought occurs, and she raises her voice.  “Henry, make sure he knows not to order anything off of pay-per-view.”

Henry’s brown head bobs and he juts a thumbs-up in the air in acknowledgement as he continues to teach Smee the finer points of channel surfing.

She gives Killian the side-eye.  “You’ll explain the other basics to him before we go?”

He hums agreeably.  “Of course.”

 *                             *                             *

 He’s really a pirate.  And now there’s a second pirate in her home.  And a murderous evil queen awaiting their return to the Enchanted Forest.  And she’s about to head out to a party wearing a ball gown fit for a Disney princess. None of it should make sense.  None of it bears any resemblance to the thing she calls her life.  And yet…  

Emma climbs back up the stairs, skirts bunched in her hands, in order to finish gathering her things.  She fishes a pair of silver, open-toed pumps out of her closet and sits on the edge of her mattress, pulling her dress up so she can see her feet as she slips her shoes on.  

Her eyes stare, unseeing, at her footwear.  She has no idea how she’s supposed to react to what’s happening – to Smee’s arrival, to the proof that Killian’s story is real, to the revelation that other worlds and magic and True Love exist, to the idea that Killian is being pursued by an Evil Queen, to the fact that in less than three days he’ll be out of their lives (her life) forever.  When she’d agreed to let him come home with her and Henry, she’d never planned on letting him stay more than a day or two.   But now?  Now the idea of saying goodbye and watching him set off to brave a dangerous future makes her feel as though her bustier has been cinched so tight that she can barely get enough air.

Emma gives herself a little shake and swipes the moisture at her nose away with a finger before climbing to her feet.  With a sniffle, she scoops her little silver clutch and a heavy cloak up off a side chair and heads back downstairs.  

She can hear echoing voices as Killian gives Smee a crash course on plumbing in the first floor bathroom.

“But where does the water come from?”

“Bloody hell if I know, Smee.  I’ve only been here two days.”

Killian’s exasperated tone causes her to fold her lips together and suppress a dry laugh.  She still isn’t completely sure why she trusts the man enough to let another perfect stranger stay in her home based on his word alone.  It sounds incredibly reckless, but, as he shuttles Smee back out of the bathroom and gives her another reassuring nod, she knows – she can feel in her gut – that it isn’t. And that’s just it, she thinks, smiling warmly at him when he explains her “no swords in the house” policy to his first mate and takes Smee’s weapon downstairs – when it comes to Killian Jones, Captain Hook, the gentleman pirate who somehow sees the chinks in her armor and yet makes her feel strong, none of the rules that have governed her universe up until now seem to apply.  

The doorbell announces the arrival of Avery and his mother.  Emma indulges the brunette soccer mom in some girlish squealing over her ball gown and a little small talk about their boys until Killian emerges from the basement and comes to bid Henry a good night.  Avery’s mother shoots Emma an intrigued look, but Emma merely gives the barest shake of her head and mouths “Friend” with a tight smile as Killian stands beside her and watches Henry put on his shoes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Henry asks him anxiously, pulling his costume’s chain mail-like hood over his head and hoisting his backpack onto his shoulder.

Killian flashes a quiet grin.  “I expect so.  Good luck gathering your spoils.”

“Thanks.”  Henry salutes with his sword before following his friends down the steps.  “Mom!” his voice rings out through the open door, “Walsh is here!  In a limo!”

Emma takes a deep breath and glances at Killian before going to retrieve her phone from the kitchen.  

Killian, in turn, fixes Smee with a flinty look.  “Nothing but propriety, Mr. Smee.  I expect the Lady to be pleased with the state of her home when we return.  Am I clear?”

“Y-yes, Sir.”  Smee nods submissively, clearly accustomed to taking orders.  

Emma looks up at them as she tucks her phone into her clutch, and sympathy plucks at her heartstrings at the sight of the shorter man’s overwhelmed expression.  She quickly takes stock of her kitchen and pours a glass of milk, stashing her clutch under her arm so her other hand can snag the cookie plate off the counter.

“In case you’re hungry,” she says, returning to the living room just as Smee settles back on the sofa.  She sets the items on the coffee table in front of him.  “Sorry it’s not much, but we have to run.”

Smee’s eyes grow wide at her unexpected gesture. “Thank you,” he manages.

She gives him a little smile.

“Emma?”

They look up to see Walsh standing in the open doorway, a dark green top hat on his head and one hand poised to knock.

Emma straightens and forces herself to sound upbeat as she waves him inside.  “Hi.”

Walsh removes the hat, his lips parted in awe. “Wow.”  He closes the door behind him, his eyes fixed on her. “You look amazing.”

Emma colors and comes forward to greet him.  He grasps her hands and kisses her on the cheek before standing back to take in her dress.  “This is like something out of a fairy tale,” he chuckles.

“Aye.”

Walsh looks up to see Killian standing off to the side, and his brows pinch as he notes Killian’s change in clothes. “Hi,” he says.  “You’re not going as a pirate?”

Killian shrugs, gesturing for Smee to pass him his prosthetic hand from the coffee table.  “Henry thought this would be more appropriate for the occasion,” he replies, twisting off his hook.  He slips it into one of his belt pouches and clicks the hand into his brace while Walsh gawks.  Killian raises his left arm and smiles glibly.  “Your friend would probably prefer a dance partner with two hands, anyway.”

“Oh.  Um, right.” Walsh leans over to get a better look at Smee.  “Hello.”

Smee gives a hesitant little wave, looking unsure if he should speak.

“This is...”  Emma bites her lip, realizing she’d rather not take the time right now to explain to Walsh that she’s got Mr. Smee in her living room because Killian is the real Captain Hook.  “I’m sorry,” she tells Smee, “I don’t think I got your first name.”

Smee blinks, caught off-guard by the question. “Oh.  It’s William, Ma’am,” he answers almost bashfully.

“William,” Emma repeats to Walsh.  “He’s a friend of Killian’s.”

Walsh looks one part surprised, one part pleased. “You found a friend of Killian’s?”

Emma smiles nervously.  “It’s, uh, it’s a long story.  But he’s also going to stay here a few days until we can make arrangements to get them both, um,” she licks her lips, “home.”

There’s a beat of silence before Killian clears his throat.  “So, what are you dressed as, mate?” he asks Walsh politely.

Emma’s boyfriend turns and unfurls his arms grandly, showing off his dark green coat, pinstriped dark green paints, emerald waistcoat, and black bowtie.  “Behold the great and powerful Oz!” he booms. His face falls at Killian’s blank expression.  “You know? The Wizard?”

Killian feigns recognition admirably.  “Ah!  Of course.”

Emma suppresses an amused grin while she dons her cloak, but she catches Killian’s eye over her shoulder as Walsh leads her out the door, and her dimples flash when he gives her a wink and a little shrug.

Per Henry’s report, a polished black limousine idles in the street, and a uniformed driver appears when they step outside.  Emma arches an eyebrow at Walsh as he leads her down the front steps.  “Wow, you really went all out,” she remarks.

“Well, I figured the Camry might not cut it for a fancy ball,” he replies cheerfully.  “Besides, I know the guy who owns the company.”

The driver swings the rear door open for them, and they catch a glimpse of bubblegum pink tulle.  Linda peeks out and waves, her long hair framing her face in straw-colored ringlets.  “Hi!” She gathers her voluminous skirts and shifts over a bit to afford Emma more room to maneuver through the door. “Oh Emma, you look gorgeous!”

Emma settles into a seat, feeling a little silly as she tries to smooth down the cumbersome layers of fabric around her legs. “Thanks.  So do you.”  She glances between Linda and Walsh, who climbs in and slides into the spot next to her. “So we’ve got Glinda the Good Witch and The Wizard?  Was I supposed to bring the ruby slippers?”

Linda gives a little laugh.  “I swear we didn’t plan it this way.  Apparently we just have the same taste in movies.”  She does a double-take as Killian brings up the rear and climbs through the vehicle door.  “Oh Killian!  What happened to your pirate costume?”

“Apologies, milady,” Killian says, distracted as he takes in the cabin of the limousine, “Emma’s boy thought it a bit… tired.  I hope you won’t mind being escorted by an equally charming prince.”

She laughs genially.  “Not at all.  You look very handsome.”

“Why thank you, lass.  Might I say you look lovely.”  He sets down at the end of the long, L-shaped bench, and the driver shuts the door.

“See?” Walsh asks Emma, leaning over to interlace his fingers with hers and press a quick kiss to the back of her hand.  “We’re going to have a great time.”

Emma puts on an apprehensive smile and nods, turning to chat politely with Linda about her costume while Walsh continues to hold her hand and Killian pointedly diverts his gaze out the window.

 *                             *                             *

 The splendor of the Woolworth is something to behold, and even Emma seems in awe of the towering decorated ceilings, intricate stone carvings, and detailed bronze work that contribute to the grandeur.  Killian cranes his head to examine the glittering mosaics above their heads as they wait for an elevator to carry them upstairs to the ballroom.

Linda, now sporting a comically tall pink and silver crown ringed with stars in addition to the billowing dress with exaggerated puffed sleeves, sighs rapturously as she clutches his arm.  “Isn’t it fantastic?”

“Splendid,” he agrees.  “I’ve never seen the like.”

The ballroom is a wide open space with a large circular floor of inlaid wood surrounded by pairs of narrow pillars that bear up lattices in a scrolling vine motif.  Impressive, heavy-looking gold and crystal chandeliers hang overhead, and two large trees in pots stand on either side, each gleaming with small white lights as though host to a thousand fireflies.  

Roughly a hundred people mill about in a wide variety of elaborate costumes, and Killian is both amused and chagrined to learn that there are many more persons from his world who are known here as fictional characters.  Some of the costumes and portrayals are more accurate than others, to be sure, and it’s all he can do not to whirl around on a man dressed in a long red coat, breeches, and a flamboyantly plumed hat whom they overhear introducing himself in a horribly, growly accent as the dreaded Captain Hook.  Emma bites her lip and shoots Killian a look, her eyes laughing at his indignant scowl.

Dinner is served at round tables laid with fine china that dot the room’s perimeter, and the meal – savory root vegetables, roast chicken, and mutton steak paired with fine wine and rounded out with a custard called crème brûlée – is worthy of a royal banquet. Walsh and Linda get into an enthusiastic discussion about their favorite old movies while Emma remains less talkative than usual.  Whenever Linda queries Killian on unfamiliar subjects, however, she steps in, deflecting the question or interjecting her own opinion and then answering his grateful smile with a nearly imperceptible blush or a small grin hidden behind her wine glass.  

Dancing commences after dinner, with music provided by a live orchestra and a pair of excellent singers whose handheld batons somehow amplify their voices above the din.  Linda proves to be a fine dancer and pleasant enough company, but even as he circles the dance floor with her and encourages her bubbly chatter, Killian finds himself keeping tabs on Emma and Walsh.  

He has to admit, grudgingly, that whatever his perceived faults, Emma’s beau is undeniably attentive and courteous.  Killian watches the two of them talk and move together in time to the music, and he sighs.  Walsh may not be very interesting, but the man clearly has the potential to be a fine husband, and Killian should take comfort in that, he thinks – the knowledge that if and when she accepts the proposal, Emma will have what she deserves: a smile to greet her when she comes home, a father for her son, and a strong pair of arms to keep her warm at night.  His stomach clenches, and he swallows.  And as for himself?  He’ll return with Smee to the Enchanted Forest and resume his quest, and the world will be as it should once again.  

“Folks, our night is drawing to a close,” one of the singers announces late in the evening.  “On behalf of the Healthy Imaginations Book Campaign, we’d like to thank you for spending your evening with us and for your generous donations. As many of you know, it’s tradition for our next-to-last dance be an homage to the much-loved movie Enchanted, which was filmed in this very ballroom. So gentlemen, please find a lady you did not accompany this evening, and join us for the King and Queen’s Waltz.”

Walsh and Emma approach, with Walsh stepping forward to offer Linda his hand.  He grins. “Shall we?”

Linda’s cheeks are rosy.  “Of course, Ozzie.”

Emma steps back as they walk off, one hand gripping her elbow self-consciously.  The glow of the dimmed chandeliers and the slightly blue overhead lamps plays over her like moonlight, and between the way it makes her blonde hair appear almost silvery white, the gleam of her flawless skin, and the luster of her dress, she shines ethereally like a fairy.

Killian licks his lips, unsure if he can bear to hold her again only to have to let her go.  Just one dance, a voice inside him murmurs. One last time.  He’s going to miss her painfully either way; he might as well let himself have this.  He extends his arm.  “Grant me the honor, Swan?”

Emma’s lashes flutter, her eyes falling on his outstretched fingers, and she hesitates before gingerly setting her hand in his and allowing him to escort her out to the floor without a word.  It isn’t until she slips into his arms that she finally dares to look up at him, and he knows immediately by her expression that she feels it too:  Trepidation. Anticipation.  Sadness.  

He can’t bear to see her sad.  Killian gives her a soft, encouraging smile.  “Trust this old pirate, Princess?”

Some of the weight lifts from his heart when the corners of her eyes hint at a crinkle and she gives a little nod.

You’re in my arms And all the world is calm The music playing on for only two So close together And when I’m with you So close to feeling alive

They begin to move and she follows faultlessly tonight, a natural extension of him as they fall in line with the other dancers and he rotates them around the floor.  It feels like perfection, this point in time – soft music, magical lighting, and an angel in his arms staring up at him like she somehow knows him and yet cares for him all the same.  He knows he doesn’t deserve any of it – doesn’t deserve her, doesn’t deserve this dance – but he feels compelled to relish it nonetheless.  Comes of being a pirate, he supposes.  

He spins her delicately in time to the music, her skirts swirling around her feet as she moves with the grace of a leaf whirling lazily to the earth.  “Beautiful,” he breathes, and his chest aches with the truth of it.  Emma returns to his embrace, her enormous eyes filled with wonder and uncertainty, and she silently searches him while the music swells into the chorus and his steps grow bolder.  

So close to reaching That famous happy end Almost believing This one's not pretend And now you're beside me And look how far we've come So far we are, so close       

 Killian’s heart stutters at the glint of wetness that suddenly appears in her eyes.  “Swan?”

She blinks rapidly, embarrassment failing to hide her now down-trodden expression, and he ignores the song’s triumphant, sweeping interlude and keeps their steps small, pulling her close so that she can tuck her cheek in the crook of his neck.

“It’s alright, love” he whispers in her ear, hugging her to his chest.  “It’s going to be alright.  You’ll find your happy ending.”

His words make her shudder, and she clings to him like a frightened child, tipping her head forward until her nose rests on his shoulder.  Killian closes his eyes against the sting of his own emotions, turning his face to bury his nose in her hair.  He breathes her in and savors the softness of her golden tresses beneath his skin, suddenly determined to fill his senses with Emma Swan and bottle this memory as one to both give him life and kill him slowly.

They rock in each others’ arms until he feels her take a couple of steadying breaths, and she pulls back at last and gives him a watery smile.

Oh how could I face the faceless days If I should lose you now

Killian falls back into wider steps as showering tinkles from a harp and swelling bass notes lead into the chorus again.  He spins her a few more times to distract her (and himself) before the music slows to the penultimate dramatic pause and they draw to a standstill, staring at one another like opposing statues.

So close, so close And still so far

They rotate around each other as the song ends, the gentle notes of a piano leading the orchestra into its last few chords before all of it falls away to leave the silvery tone of a solitary violin stretching into the night.  Though her hand remains in his, it’s a feat of will to pull away from her for the closing bow.  Killian straightens and presses a chaste kiss to her knuckles, trying to ignore how bereft he feels now that his moment with her is over.  “Perfect, Swan,” he tells her quietly.  “As I knew you would be.”

“You two have fun?”  Walsh calls good-naturedly, walking up with Linda on his arm.  He frowns when he sees Emma’s slightly red-rimmed eyes. “Honey?  Is everything okay?”

Emma clears her throat and gives a little laugh. “I’m fine.  Just tired, I guess.  My head is starting to hurt.”  She affects a grimace.  “And my feet may never forgive me.”

“Do you want to sit out the last dance?” Linda asks, looking sympathetic.

“I can go get our things,” Walsh offers.

Killian holds up his fake hand in order to stay him. “No, mate, I’m happy to do it if you don’t mind entertaining my partner for the last dance,” he says, motioning in Linda’s direction.

Walsh, a little puzzled but agreeable as ever, takes Linda’s hand and angles them toward the dance floor just as the band plays the opening notes of the final song.  “Are you sure?”

“Quite.”  Killian backs away in the direction of the coat check with a bob of his head and a forced chuckle.  He turns away from them in time to hide his crestfallen smile.  “I haven’t any dance left in me either.”

 *                             *                             *

 The evening alone passes quickly for Smee. Despite the Evil Queen’s possession of his heart, the difficult mission hanging over his head, and the lack of alcohol, company, or familiar surroundings, he enjoys himself immensely, nestled amongst the comfortable cushions of Emma’s sofa with a plate of the most delightfully sweet biscuits next to one hand and the extraordinary TV controller in the other.  Truly a land of miracles, this Land Without Magic – confounding and overwhelming but filled with the most remarkable comforts.  Take this object in front of him, for example – a box that shows moving pictures as a source of endless entertainment and information.  He’s seen many things traveling the realms at the Captain’s elbow, but he could not have ever imagined such a thing.  

He experiments with the little buttons on the controller the way the boy, Henry, showed him.  Taking each numbered channel in succession, he finds dramatic stories, funny stories, a series of channels devoted to people arguing over current events, and several programs about various animals in the wilderness.  The shows are frequently punctuated by fascinating interruptions – brief advertisements for things this realm has to offer, like clothing and cleaning implements and food made just for dogs and horseless carriages and beer. His mouth waters at the tempting images of the latter, and he wonders if the Captain’s generous lady friend would be able to help him obtain any before their departure.

And then he comes upon a channel calling itself the Food Network – program after program about this world’s edible delights and the chefs who prepare them. Smee puts the controller down, enthralled.  For the rest of the evening, he watches persistently cheerful people demonstrate how to transform basic ingredients into delicious-looking creations that he suspects taste better than anything that’s yet to pass his lips, and he sighs at one point, lamenting this tantalizing world of food that he’s likely never to experience.

There are sounds at the front door a little after eleven, and Smee cranes around in his seat.  The beautiful Lady Swan keys the door open and enters first, followed by her suitor, Walsh, and the Captain.  The Lady appears tired, the Captain’s expression is similarly drawn.

Walsh greets him as he helps the Lady remove her cloak.  “Hey there, William.”  

“Uh, hello.”  Smee looks at the Captain.  “Have a nice time, Sir?”

Captain Hook straightens and dons a brittle smile. “It went well enough.”

“Unfortunately, Emma’s got a headache,” Walsh explains. They watch as she leans on a hand against the wall and shucks her slippers off into the corner with an audible groan of relief.  “Do you want something, honey?  Aspirin maybe?”

“Perhaps a hot cocoa with cinnamon before bed would be good for what ails you, Swan,” the Captain suggests, switching his fake hand back out for his hook.

Her look up at him is tinted with pleasant surprise before she smiles sheepishly and chuffs.  “I don’t suppose either would hurt,” she admits ruefully.  “Does everyone want some?”

There are affirmative sounds all around, and Smee jumps to his feet eagerly and trails the party to the kitchen.

“Want some help?”  Walsh loosens the bow at his throat.

She reaches for a tea kettle.  “No, I’ve got this,” she says, running water into it.  “But the aspirin’s upstairs in the medicine cabinet. Do you mind?”

“Sure.”  He grins and heads away.  

She waits until he’s out of earshot before giving the Captain the side-eye.  “So what are you going to do after we destroy the Sea Star tomorrow?” she asks quietly, hoisting her full kettle onto the stove and activating the flame.

Smee looks up sharply, panic striking him like a hammer as he realizes how quickly the clock is ticking on his mission to retrieve the Sea Star for the Queen.  “T-tomorrow?” he sputters.

“Aye,” Captain Hook confirms grimly.  “At two o’clock.  Emma has a friend who has a…”  He falters.

“A hydraulic press,” she supplies.  “It’ll get the job done.  What then?”  Worry paints her face as she meets his eye.  “This woman, this…”

“Evil Queen.”

“Right.  Her.” The lines on Lady Swan’s brow deepen. “You said she already tried to kill you for stealing the stone.  What’s she going to do when you show up and she finds out it’s gone?”

He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms. “We’re not going to show up.”

She squints.  “What?”

“What?!”  They both turn to see to see Smee aghast, his slightly rum-ruddy complexion turning pale.  He shrinks under their dual stares, the Captain’s reproving frown in particular causing him to close his mouth and appear contrite.  “Sorry, Sir.  I – I just don’t understand what you mean.”

“Emma!” Walsh’s slightly muffled voice comes from the top of the stairs.  “Where is the aspirin exactly?”

The Lady heaves a sigh and rolls her eyes.  “Be there in a second!” she yells back.  She focuses back on the Captain with an expectant look.

“We have a magic bean that will take us anywhere,” he points out in a low voice.  “We don’t have to go back to the Jolly.”

“But Sir!  The ship –”

“Will be fine without us,” he says firmly.  “Roberts will take control in two more days and take her back out to sea.  He’s from the Southern Isles.  If we use the bean to transport us there, we can lie low far out of the Evil Queen’s reach and rejoin the Jolly the next time he brings her into port.”  He turns back to the Lady, the side of his mouth twitching with a half-hearted grin.  “Our world is a big place.  It’ll be easy enough to steer clear of Misthaven for a while.  Pirates don’t survive without learning well how to avoid our enemies.”

She considers this, taking a deep breath.  “I guess it’s not the worst plan ever,” she acquiesces. “We can talk more about it in the morning.”  She points to a knob on the stove.  “Can you shut this off when the water boils?  Just turn it counter-clockwise as far as it will go.”  The side of her mouth quirks into a somber little smile when the Captain nods, and she trudges upstairs.

Sweat beads on Smee’s brow.  Between the infinitesimally small chance of saving the Sea Star from destruction and now the revelation that the Captain does not intend to return them to the Jolly where the Queen awaits them, the success of his mission hangs perilously in the balance.  He thinks of the sleeping potion burning a hole in his pocket and swallows.  He’s not sure there’s any choice left in the matter.  Perhaps falling into an eternal sleep, even with bad dreams, is a better fate than whatever the Evil Queen would otherwise have had in store for the Captain.  After all, the whole of the Enchanted Forest knows of Snow White and how she survived such a curse.  Perhaps it’s a mercy, he thinks mournfully, the best of the terrible options afforded them.

The Captain fidgets restlessly before moving to pull four mugs down from a cabinet, having clearly acclimated to the Lady’s home. The kettle whistles as he sets them on the counter, and he carefully turns the knob as instructed.  The flame shrinks down to nothing, and satisfaction ghosts his lips at this newfound ability to control fire with such precision.  

“This is quite the realm,” Smee comments, hoping his words don’t sound as jittery as he feels.

“Indeed.” Captain Hook’s face is solemn.  “If circumstances were different, I wouldn’t have minded staying to explore it.”  He shakes his head and turns to another cabinet, retrieving a large jar of brown powder and a small metal spice tin.  “Sadly, that’s doesn’t appear to be in the cards for us, Mr. Smee.”  

His guilt feels like a lead noose as Smee glances at the cups and uses the counter to cover his movements.  “No, Sir,” he says, carefully fingering the Queen’s glass vial out of the purse in his coat.

The Captain sighs and locates a spoon in a drawer.  He combines equal amounts of powder and hot water in each mug and stirs, the most enticing aroma blooming from the rich brown liquid that forms.  Setting the spoon aside, he lifts the nearest cup to his lips, gently blowing away the top layer of steam before risking a taste.  A crease forms on his brow, and he eyes the drink with resignation.  “It really is better with whipped cream and cinnamon,” he mutters, setting it down and turning away to pull open the door to the tall metal cabinet in the corner.

Smee doesn’t dare breathe as his hand darts out and dumps the contents of the vial into the Captain’s cup.  His stomach churns at the sight of the liquid disappearing beneath the surface of the cocoa.  Gods forgive him.  Footsteps behind him herald the return of the Captain’s friends, and he straightens awkwardly just as the Lady Swan enters, Walsh in tow.

She sees the Captain studying the contents of the glowing box and looks amused.  “What are you looking for?”

“The whipped cream, love.”  He bobs and weaves a bit, turning his attention to the items housed on the inside of the door.

Her eyes fall on the cups.  “You made the cocoa?” she asked, sounding impressed.

The Captain glances at her over his shoulder smugly.  “I’m a quick study,” he replies.

“Hmph.  Let’s see.”  She smiles, swipes his mug off the counter, and raises it to her lips.

“No!”  Smee’s scream comes a split-second too late.

The Captain’s friend swallows and goes pale, gasping for air as her pretty features are stricken in a silent cry.  The mug falls out of her hand and spills onto the countertop, her eyes roll back in her head, and the Captain only barely manages to catch her when she slumps to the floor.

So Close (Jon McLaughlin)

You’re in my arms And all the world is calm The music playing on for only two So close together And when I’m with you So close to feeling alive

A life goes by Romantic dreams must die So I bid my goodbye And never knew So close, was waiting Waiting here with you And now, forever, I know All that I wanted To hold you so close

So close to reaching That famous happy end Almost believing This one's not pretend And now you're beside me And look how far we've come So far we are, so close

Oh how could I face the faceless days If I should lose you now

We're so close to reaching That famous happy end Almost believing This one's not pretend Let's go on dreaming For we know we are So close, so close And still so far 

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