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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years ago

Note

Terror 15?

Hello my favourite! Thank you for the prompt, it was DELIGHTFUL! And I cheated a bit and made this a Kingdom Collisions update👀 hopefully I did you well!

Masterlist; the piano song I imagine

This is a fic I'm writing to try incorporate more descriptions into my writing. I do not have pre-written chapters so updates will be sporadic. I hope you enjoy whatever is here!

Terror, 15: whatever you do do not open your eyes.

TW: blood, violence/death

Kingdom Collisions V

Percy Jackson sees the impending stone of Caelum Castle and he wants to escape to the sea. He wants to rush back to his cabin and bury himself in the sand where nobody will ever bother him. He has always hated this castle, hated it for its height and its morgue grey colour, and the way it looms over the world like a shadow of.... gods it seems inappropriate to say death.

Jason had been in some state of quiet distraught since yesterday evening and he can't blame him. It is fracturing to hear news like that, to not have anymore to go on. When Percy's guards had come to tell him the news he had buckled at the knees. They just managed to catch him. He demanded more information, anything else. They shook their heads, eyes heavy with heartache and said,

"The only thing we know Prince is that the King is safe."

Now the car eases onto the cobbled path that leads up to the castle and before it can come to a stop Crown Prince Jason Grace is frantically clicking at his seatbelt and hurtling himself out of the vehicle. Percy sees him race up the endless stairs and disappear through the foreboding wooden doors. He looks to his guards, questions as evident in his eyes as in theirs. When the car finally parks in whatever designated space they have he climbs out and prowls towards the castle, eyebrows scrunched as he looks for his husband.

Caelum Castle is as hollow on the inside as it looks from the out. Opulence drips from the crystal chandeliers. The smell of decadence emitting from the ivory-wood furniture and accompanying silk drapes make his head spin. He doesn't even bother to hide his wince as he steps through the diamond archways. He knows the king put them there because when the sun hits the room at just the right angle a kaleidoscope of colour fractures around the space. On the rare occasions he has come here he has never quite felt like the castle was lived in. It felt more like a decorative structure, a face for the people. But there is warmth emitting from the candlebrum in the entrance. And although the velvet red carpet layed under his feet looks like it got put down yesterday there is evidence of life in the tiny chip on the marble floor where Jason tried to hammer bubble-wrap, or the dent in the wooden panelling where a bunch of little guards in training were being chased by Monster Jason of the Sky and someone smacked straight into the wall.

Percy isn't aware of these details, isn't aware of the life his husband had here. Instead he peers around corners and into room trying to find anyone. The castle seems to be empty, a mirage in an endless desert. He walks up the white marble staircase, looking at the portraits on the wall. They are full of grim faces and collared paint and he can't help but compare them to the portraits in his own castle, which are colours, and smiles, and joy. He wonders briefly if Jason's childhood was as happy as his; if Jason ever got to lick blue icing from the bowl the night before his birthday, or cuddle up next to his parents for movie night. Just then a shuffling from the end of the second floor grabs his attention and he's moving towards it, thoughts discarded.

"Prince Grace?" He pokes his head around a doorway, a room of silk and fire and music greeting him. A gorgeous, midnight black piano sits in the center of the space, white keys glistening in the candlelight. The room is almost sinister in its set up. Like someone had been playing only a few minutes ago and go called away briefly. He expects a person to come strolling around the corner, stepping to the piano and sitting down to play. He tears his eyes away from the glorious instrument, clasping his itching fingers, and looks at the rest of the room. It seemed almost normal, but then his eyes catch on the slouched figure in the corner and bile crawls up his throat. There are puddles of ruby surrounding the person and he knows with horrifying clarity that they aren't sleeping, aren't merely resting before the pianist comes back. His shock is interrupted by another sound, a broken sound.

"Jason!" And then he's sprinting towards the blood curling scream, towards the pain.

The wailing is endless like torture itself is finally learning to speak.

"JASON!" Percy is frantic now, he can't find his husband and there's so many doors and why the fuck is the scream echoing in his brain he can't hear anything, "JASON!"

He slams into the edge of a frame as he skids to a halt. There standing in front of a dark wood door, blue eyes blazing and tear streaks like stained death on his face, is the Crown Prince.

"What's the matter, what's wrong?" Percy is breathless, panicked.

"There's so much blood," The blonde chokes, looking down, "This was his room and there's so much blood."

"Who's room?" Green eyes widen at the pool of scarlet, "Prince, who's room?"

Jason falls forward, Percy barely managing to catch him, "There is— there's so much blood." Tears soak through their clothes.

"Do you want me to go in and check?"

The blonde looks like he's going to say no, looks like he's going to work up the courage to do it but his eyes catch the red stained marble and he nods once.

"Stay here, only come in when I say."

He nods again and then Percy is easing himself around his husband and opening the door.

At first there is nothing, just murky darkness and oddly shaped shadows. The furniture, some beds and couches, are aligned neatly in certain areas of the room but for the most part it is empty. Percy squints into the darkness, trying to find a light source. There is something hanging on the wall and he can't quite make it out. The smell in the room is enough to make him wish he hadn't eaten that slice of toast for breakfast.

"Can you see anything?" A call from the hallway.

"It's really dark do you know where the light is?"

"Yea just move towards your left, it should be on that wall."

"What do you mean should be? Do your lights move or something?"

"Shut up and find it." He hears a hiss near his ear and it takes everything in him not to yelp. But finally he locates the switch and with a soft click the room is ablaze in warm yellow light. He blinks at the harsh difference, letting his eyes adjust. And then Percy Jackson, Crown Prince of Mare spots the artwork on the wall and the blood in his veins become poison. He whips his head around, ready to warn Jason not to look only to see to see his eyes already squeezed shut.

"Whatever you do, do not open your eyes."

"What's wrong?" The blonde is breathing hard, hands twisting at his sides, "What happened?"

"Keep them closed Grace,"

Percy looks at the grotesque image on the wall, his stomach doing somersaults. He is hurtled back to a time when his own castle had been bathed in blood.

"Little One," Someone shook his shoulders, "Little One I need you to get up!"

"What's wrong Momma?" His voice was groggy with sleep, "Is it already time for breakfast?"

"No Little One. You're going to stay with Grover for a little while okay. There's big people stuff happening at the castle so you and Grover get to stay together."

"Is everything okay momma?"

His mother's ice blue eyes fractured, her lip trembling. His small hand reached up to touch her face, put his fingers to her cheek.

"What happened momma?"

She shook her head and gathered him in her arms and then they were racing through the palace. He will never forget the screaming he heard when they stepped into the halls. It was like nails on a chalkboard, like ventirloquated suffering. And the smell— iron and death. Those walls he called home seemed dark and dangerous, full of monsters.

"What's happening momma?" Tears pooled in his eyes.

"Some bad people Little One, but don't worry you will be safe with Grover."

"I don't want to go momma, I want to stay with you!"

"I'm sorry Little One,"

And then she was shoving him in a car and waving goodbye. The last thing he saw was his mom's broken gaze and the splattering of blood on her nightgown before the world faded.

"Just don't open your eyes, I'm going to guide you out." Percy says, wrapping his arms around his husband's shoulders and taking small steps in the direction of the door.

Jason walks backwards, wrapped in Percy's arms, eyes still shut tight, "Are we almost out?"

"Couple more steps," He mutters and then they're through and he's pulling the door closed.

Just before he can shut it the blonde opens his eyes. Crown Prince Jason Grace inhales sharply, turns around and throws up all over the floor.

"No, no, no, no, no—" He cries, sobs, chokes.

Percy wants to curse but instead he gathers the Prince in his arms and slams the door closed.

Jason is heaving, tears making rivers over his cheeks, "No, no, no, no, no—" He looks up at the wooden entrance and throws up again.

"I love him, no, no." He is screaming. "Bring him back! THIS ISN'T TRUE!"

Percy pulls them closer, ignores the fingernails cutting into his arm, the red marks marring his skin.

"I need to go in!" Jason heaves, trying to escape from their embrace.

"No!"

"Please, please, please," He's begging, lightning eyes are flashing, "I just need to see him! I love him I need him please."

"I can't I'm sorry."

"PLEASE!"

The world trembles, cracks, crumbles to dust under that request. Despair is a blanket over their shoulders, agony their final friend.

"Please Percy please," The blonde is sobbing into him, pulling him closer and pushing him away.

"I am sorry."

"We were supposed to run away, to live in the clouds, to become nomads of the sky. We were supposed to be together."

His heart clenches, twists in his chest for the person in his arms, at the sheer excruciation of the moment.

"You will meet again.*

"I need to see him!"

The black-haired Prince sits there on the floor, stroking his husband's back and blinking away the image he had seen.

For there, on the otherside of the door, hangs the Tapestry of Agony. A noose around his neck and daggers pinning his limbs to the wall, is a guard— tawny brown skin leeched of colour, once bouncy curls saturated with blood, and coffee brown eyes gazing endlessly at nothing.

Leo Valdez, Personal Guard and Secret Lover to the Crown Prince of Caelum, is dead.

Percy Jackson pulls his husband closer and closes his eyes to the world. Somewhere in the castle a piano starts playing.

--------------------------------------------------

This fic has built up quite the traction which makes me equal parts happy and surprised so i’m moving the taglist here.

Tags (if you want to be added to/ taken off the tag list just let me know, all my channels of communication are open):

@nishlicious-01

@queen-of-demons-and-hell

@leydiangelo

@sparkythunderstorm

@asami-sato-has-never-sinned

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star-spangled-eyes · 5 years ago

Text

Forbidden: Part 4: Queen of the Night

This alternate universe fan fiction uses characters created and owned by Pixelberry Studios. Character names, descriptions and likenesses are owned by Pixelberry Studios. Some content in the first part are direct words from TRR Book 3, Chapter 16. The MC, Bragnae Bennett, and story is created and owned by this author.

Book: The Royal Romance (Alternate Universe)

Alternate Universe Theme: The Queen of Cordonia as an adulteress

Pairing: King Liam x MC / Drake Walker x MC (Bragnae Bennett – *pronounced Brawn-yah)

Warnings for this series: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language, heavy angst, drama of course, very steamy sex scenes in each part -- IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, DO NOT READ THIS SERIES. Also, if you do not like reading smut, especially mine, please do not read this series.

Series Description: Forbidden is an extremely steamy story that takes place in Cordonia picking up the night of Bragnae’s bachelorette party in Las Vegas. She accepted King Liam’s proposal, despite also being in love with Drake. But when Liam gives Bragnae permission to have one last fling before they’re hitched, she chooses Drake.

Even though Bragnae tells him their dalliance is for one night only, Drake can’t seem to let it go. Once they return to Cordonia and the King marries his betrothed, Drake convinces Bragnae to embrace the forbidden pleasure of being with him in addition to filling her role as queen – consequences be damned.

Master List

A/N: I’m sorry it took me a while to get this chapter out. I had a writing lull for a few weeks, and my mini series, Dirty Mind, had to be written before Part 4 of Forbidden. Thank you all for your patience! This is a fun and exciting chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings for this chapter: NSFW, Adult content, sex (lots!), suggestive and strong language

Word Count for this chapter: 8975

Setting for this chapter: Liam returns to the palace, and Bragnae has her coronation.

Permatags: @burnsoslow @cora-nova @dcbbw @thorfosterlove @emceesynonymroll @edgiestwinter @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @msjr0119 @notoriouscs @drakewalker04 @pedudley @desiree-0816 @choices-lurker @kingliam2019 @loveellamae @drakexnadira @flutistbyday2020 @indiana-jr @moonlightgem7

Series Tags: @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @silverofdreams @texaskitten30 @mskaneko @jemrmax2love @nomadics-stuff @queenjilian @yukinagato2012 @ravenpuff02 @forthebrokenheartedthings-blog @moneyfordiamonds

Part 4:Queen of the Night

Bragnae waited in the Grand Hall for her husband to stroll through the front doors any minute. She was looking forward to seeing him again, but feared he’d be able to read her face. He’d be able to see the shame and guilt that filled her.

Wearing a plain black dress that hugged her curves, she stood there with her hands locked together in front to keep from fidgeting. With each passing second, her nerves spiked with more anxiety. She knew she was a horrible wife. A week and a half into her marriage and she was already turning to another man to fill her desires.

But it wasn’t just any man. It was Drake. And she was in love with him. In her mind, this made things different – not that infidelity was acceptable in any form. But she felt she could justify her actions because of the deep level of feelings she had for Drake.

This whirlwind romance with Liam happened so suddenly that made it feel more like a fantasy than real life. She had abandoned her old life in New York on a whim to compete for a foreign prince’s hand in marriage. When does that ever happen? In the life she knew before Cordonia, things like that didn’t exist.

If Liam and Drake were New Yorkers, same as her, and she met them and got to know them both, Bragnae would have dated each of them separately to see which one she was more compatible with. And over time, when it felt right, then she might get married to one of them. Instead, Liam became king and the pressure was on for him to have an official queen by his side. There was no waiting.

And because Drake hadn’t told her of his feelings yet, Bragnae felt she had no other choice. She loved Liam. That wasn’t the issue. But in this rushed fantasy world, she had to go along with the plan of the kingdom even if she wanted more time to enjoy the engagement.

Now, as queen, she felt as if she missed out on how her life was supposed to be. And Drake was helping her to cope with that. Having her figurative cake and eating it too gave her control where she felt she lost it. Bragnae had a conscience and definitely knew it was wrong to sleep with Drake on the side, but a bigger part of her who craved control, as well as her desire to be with Drake, had won out.

Bragnae’s thoughts were interrupted when she heard a servant announce Liam’s presence. She looked to the door to see her handsome husband strolling in with a huge smile on his face. She watched as he walked past a few of his aids keeping his eyes on her.

Liam hastened over to her, scooping Bragnae into his arms as he kissed her with fervor. After a moment, he sat her back down on the ground allowing his kiss to linger still.

“Liam,” she smiled up at him. “Everyone’s looking.”

He obstinately kissed her again. “Let them look. I don’t give a fuck. I missed my beautiful wife.”

“I missed you, too.” She ran her hands up his chest, over his shoulders and into his hair. “How was your trip back?”

Liam shook his head. “Nope. We’ve got more pressing matters to address right now.”

“Like what?”

Liam grabbed her hand and pulled her in the direction of the stairs. “Like getting you out of that dress. I want to show you just how much I’ve missed you.”

As soon as they were through the double doors of the royal suite, Liam pressed Bragnae up against the nearest wall. He kissed her heartily letting his hands roam over her curves until he found the hem of her dress. He pulled the fabric up over her waist, and dropped to one knee.

His piercing blue eyes locked with hers as his fingers found the lace of her panties, pulling them down her smooth legs. He helped her out of the material one by one, then ran his hand up one of her legs before tossing it over his shoulder.

He gave her a wicked smirk. “Have I told you that I love seeing you from this angle? You look so sexy,” he paused to look down at her pussy. “Good enough to eat.”

Bragnae braced one hand on the wall and another on Liam’s head as he leaned forward to cover her clit with his mouth. She closed her eyes feeling his tongue swirl and lap against her making her feel dizzy. Gripping his hair, she moaned as he slid two fingers into her thrusting rhythmically as his tongue brought her closer to the edge.

“Oh, God, Liam,” she panted. Her mind went blank except for what his skilled mouth was doing to her.

He removed his fingers to spread her lips with both hands, diving further into her nipping and sucking at her sensitive skin. Bragnae felt his long tongue fuck her over and over before gently circling her entrance. The teasing was almost too much to bear.

She felt her body start to tense. Her short, anticipating breaths preparing her for the pleasure that sat within reach. Liam flattened his tongue against her, running it up to her clit again. His fingers returned to her soft insides rubbing deliberately at the spot that would release the ecstasy she craved.

She shouted his name as waves of pleasure took over her body. Her knees grew weak, and her body slumped against the wall as the incredible orgasm ran its course. Liam kissed around her clit, slowing his fingers allowing her to enjoy herself without too much stimulation. He always knew to do that making the experience even more amazing.

Liam removed his hand so both could hold Bragnae in place before working his tongue down to her entrance again, savoring her. “You taste so good – just like a queen should. Sweet and ready for her king.”

Bragnae exhaled a heavy breath, her clit throbbing making her shiver with delight. “You’re amazing, Liam.”

“I know,” he chuckled, untangling himself before standing up. “Now, let’s get you out of this dress, so I can really show you how amazing I am.”

Bragnae still felt limp as Liam skillfully removed the rest of her clothes. He kissed her again before scooping her into his arms. “Come on, we’re going to need a chair for this.”

As it always did, the orgasm she received from Liam kept her in a daze. He could literally do anything he wanted, and she wouldn’t give a damn. He placed her down in front of a padded chair and guided her forward to kneel on it. He made sure she was steady as she rested her hands on the back of the chair before he removed his clothes.

Bragnae finally started to regain control of her breath when she heard Liam’s pants drop to the floor. She wanted more of him, and had no objections to being completely at his mercy.

Liam stepped up to her, pressing his erection into her lower back. His arms snaked around to her front, holding her close as he lowered his lips to her ear. “I’m going to fuck you hard, Bragnae. You’re going to scream so loud that everyone in the world will know you’re mine.”

She shuddered at his words feeling a guilty panic that somehow he knew she had sex with Drake while he was gone. Being who he was, Liam was naturally assertive in the bedroom. He loved to claim Bragnae as his, but it wasn’t very often that he spoke like this.

She decided if he knew she had been unfaithful to him, they’d be talking rather than fucking, so she relaxed and focused on his hands on her body instead.

Liam gently pushed Bragnae forward, straddling the chair as he guided his cock inside her. She whimpered feeling his length stretch her insides. Once he was in, he pulled her upright again. Restricting her arms, Liam slinked his right arm over her biceps, bringing his other hand up to her throat as he thrusted into her.

The top of Bragnae’s head bounced off Liam’s shoulder with every movement. Her eyes stared at the blue and gold decorative molding on the ceiling until they fluttered shut from the pleasure of Liam’s cock reaching deep inside her. He was in complete control of her body, and it was such a turn on.

The angle at which he was entering her was perfect, hitting the very spot he provoked just a few minutes ago. “Do you want to come, my queen?” He asked with another purposeful thrust, which made her cry out.

“God, yes. I’m so close, Liam.” Her words escaped in a whisper from the way he held her neck.

“Don’t come until I say,” he told her as he continued to move in and out of her. Bragnae’s back arched and her stomach jutted forward each time Liam drove into her. He pulled her face towards his in an uneven kiss. “I want to hear you scream, my love. Don’t hold back.”

Bragnae didn’t know how much longer she could hold out. He was scratching the itch she had, and an explosive response was imminent. “Liam, please. Say it.” He had commanded her orgasms before, and it was incredibly hot each time. Torturous, but hot.

Liam laughed wickedly in her ear as he grunted along with his precise movements. “I love when you beg for it. You’re so sexy.” He dropped his hand to pinch her nipple between his fingers. “Come with me, baby.”

After denying herself the pleasure for several moments and nearly losing it all together, Bragnae released the flood gates and a loud, deserving moan. She gasped for air as Liam groaned, his face pressed into her neck. Their movements slowed, and Liam released her arms so he could wrap his own around her.

He placed sweet kisses on her neck. She felt completely satisfied and like putty in his arms. As soon as he pulled out of her, Liam took her in his arms again and brought her to the bed. He let out a deep sigh as his back hit the mattress. Bragnae immediately curled up next to him, slinging her leg over his waist.

She placed a few soft kisses on his chest. “You always make me come so hard, Liam. I love it, and I love you.” Bragnae looked up at his face. His eyes were closed, but his lips were curled into a big smile.

“Well, that’s my job as your husband.” He opened his eyes and tilted his head to look at her. “Never ever do I want to leave you unsatisfied.”

She grinned. “I appreciate that.”

He held her close to him. “I know you do.” Liam exhaled contentedly. “I have a few things to tend to this afternoon, but other than that, this is all I want to do today.”

“That sounds nice, but our friends were hoping to have a movie night with us tonight. Are you up for it?”

He sighed. “Oh, I suppose so. If it was anyone but them, I’d say no.” Liam shifted so Bragnae was beneath him. “But we will be doing this again before the day is over.”

“You won’t hear me complaining,” she said, arching her neck to capture his lips in a tender kiss.

“Good.” He bent down to kiss her again before getting off the bed to get dressed.

After taking another moment, Bragnae did the same. She slipped her black dress over her body, and bent down to retrieve her panties. As soon as she lifted them up, Liam snatched them from her.

“What are you doing? Give me those back,” she said in a playful tone.

She watched as he stuffed them into his pocket, and leaned in cupping her cheek. “Do you know how sexy it is knowing you’re not wearing any panties under that dress?” He pressed his lips against hers in a way that fueled the flame inside her again. “It will be so much easier for me to find my way later,” he murmured as his fingers gently lifted the hem of her dress, grazing her inner thigh.

Bragnae shivered beneath his touch. No matter what he did, Liam always seemed to captivate her. She was melting and already primed for round two.

“Let everyone know to meet us in the theater room after supper. I’ll see you later, my love.” He gave her another brief kiss before leaving their suite.

He sure did know how to leave her wanting more. She bit her lip dreaming of the next time she’d feel his hands on her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drake spent the day doing whatever he could to keep his mind busy. He spent a couple hours in the gym, and after he showered, found himself playing pool in the recreational room. He knew Liam had returned and Bragnae was occupied no doubt.

His mind was constantly filled with thoughts of her. Luckily, he knew he’d have an outlet for those thoughts now that she was open to this scandalous arrangement of theirs. But, it still didn’t make it any easier knowing she was off fucking her husband somewhere in the palace. He didn’t know when he’d get to be with her again, but he was determined to make it sooner than later.

Bragnae had sent a group text to him, Maxwell and Hana letting them know of their movie night plans, and this brought a sense of relief to Drake. At least he’d get to see her even if it was in front of everyone else.

Later, Drake grabbed a quick dinner from the kitchen, and headed to the theater room. It was generous in size and could seat up to twelve people in the leather, power-reclining chairs that sat stadium style. There was a huge, blank wall that was perfect for a projector to play any movie they wanted, and a popcorn and soda machine in the back corner of the room.

Drake was the first to arrive, so he took a seat in the front row, but not direct center in case Liam and Bragnae wanted those seats. Liam usually preferred the front row. It was easier for him to leave in case his duties called him away. Plus, he liked seeing the screen without anything in front of him. Drake did too.

To his surprise, Bragnae walked in next. Alone. His eyes lit up as he watched her walk in his direction.

“Hey, Drake.” She gave him a casual smile. Not one that said fuck me now, however. He was aware of the attendant by the refreshment stand, and assumed she was just being careful. Still, he’d give anything to see that sultry look on her face. It had almost been 24 hours since he last touched her, and that was too long.

“Hi, Bennett.”

“Did you save me a seat?” She asked.

“Sure did,” he responded with his arm gesturing to the chair next to him.

“Great! I’m going to grab some popcorn. Want some?” Her eyes scanned his body. He noticed them lingering on the bulge in his pants, and he smirked.

“No, thanks. If I want any later, I’ll just steal some of yours.”

“Ha! Not on your life. I am serious about my popcorn, mister. Don’t get any ideas,” she said with that sass he loved before walking over to the stand.

He smiled to himself over their banter letting his mind wonder over what he’d do to her in this room if they were alone and weren’t expecting other people to join them. The seats were big enough for her to straddle him just fine. He was getting hard imagining her riding him with a movie on in the background and the lights down low.

Bragnae sat down in the chair next to him, putting a drink in their shared cup holder. She tucked her legs under her, and happily began eating her popcorn. The delicious buttery smell wafted towards him. He couldn’t help but look in her direction.

“You really wouldn’t share your popcorn with me, Bennett?” He narrowed his eyes at her, the corners of his lips curling up.

She stopped chewing and looked over at him. Drake watched her eyes dart over to the attendant in the corner, and then turn her head towards the door. He was curious what she was thinking about until she reached in her popcorn bucket and pulled out a piece of popcorn. She slowly brought it to his lips.

He opened his mouth as she popped the piece in letting her finger linger for a moment. Drake took the opportunity to draw his lips over her finger, tasting the buttery flavor as she slowly pulled back. Their eyes stayed fixated on each other the entire time.

Bragnae used her finger to pull down on Drake’s bottom lip ever so slowly before drawing her hand back. She put another piece of popcorn into her own mouth making sure to suck on the same finger he did. It was erotic as hell. Drake had to take a deep breath to calm his arousal.

Unfortunately, their playful popcorn escapade had to come to an end when Maxwell and Hana strolled into the room.

“Hey guys! Ready for movie night? Ooh! Popcorn!” Maxwell said in a flash as he rushed over to the refreshment stand.

“I sure am. What are we watching tonight?” Hana asked, taking a seat in the row behind Bragnae and Drake.

Bragnae took a sip of her drink before responding. “Thor! You’ll love it, Hana.”

“What’s it about?” She asked.

“He’s part of the Avengers, Hana,” Maxwell replied in between bites of popcorn.

“Oh, I don’t know who they are,” Hana said, sinking into her chair.

Drake shook his head. In some ways, Hana led a sheltered life. It wasn’t her fault, but it did provide entertainment every now and then. She was like an alien learning the customs of Earth for the first time.

Bragnae turned around in her chair to face her. “They’re a group of hot guys with lots of muscles. Thor’s the best, not to mention the hottest.”

“Oh, come on!” Drake said in disgust. “Thor? Really?”

Bragnae turned to face him. “Yeah. Are you jealous?”

Drake cocked his head, narrowing his eyes at her. There were so many comebacks he wanted to use, but they weren’t appropriate in front of the others. He wanted to hoist her up to fuck her against a wall, showing off his muscles. He wasn’t jealous at all. He had plenty of what Thor had, save for the part of being a god.

“Jealous of who?” Liam asked as he walked in the room.

“Thor, the God of Thunder,” Maxwell chimed in as he munched on more popcorn.

Liam took a seat on the other side of Bragnae. “Oh, that guy? Psht. I’ve got the blonde hair, blue eyes and muscles for days, too. I’m hotter than he is, right?”

Drake snorted at his friend’s sudden need for validation.

“Of course you are,” she replied before turning back to Hana to shake her head. Hana giggled.

“Hey! I saw that!” Liam chided with a playful, but bitter scowl.

Bragnae laughed. “I’m kidding, baby. I promise.”

“You better be,” he replied, pulling her in for a kiss.

Drake turned to face the blank wall ahead of him. He suddenly felt this movie was a bad idea. No matter what he told himself, seeing Bragnae and Liam interacting together as a couple was difficult. She was giving Drake the attention she could, when she could, but it wasn’t enough for him. And then, he literally had a front row seat to their public displays of affection.

Drake had half a mind to bail before the movie began, but then they’d all wonder why. It was best if he just stayed put, then he wouldn’t have to explain himself. And if this was the only time he’d get with Bragnae that day, then… so be it. He sighed and settled into his chair.

After another moment of incessant chatting, Liam asked the attendant to start the movie. The lights lowered and everyone reclined their chairs to get comfortable. Drake watched Bragnae out of the corner of his eye. She cuddled the side of her chair closest to Liam. Their fingers woven together on their shared armrest.

She was too far away from Drake for him to discreetly touch her during the movie, and he hated that. It was probably best not to play with fire anyway, especially when it was right in front of Liam. He wanted to be where Liam was – holding her hand, sharing her bucket of popcorn, kissing her whenever he felt like it. This fucking sucks.

About halfway through the movie, Bastien poked his head in. “Your Majesty? May I speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course. I’ll be right back, guys.” Liam said, walking out the door.

Bragnae asked the attendant to pause the movie. Maxwell immediately started asking Hana what she thought of the film so far. Drake tuned out the chatter and focused on Bragnae instead. She had turned to face the other two chiming in occasionally with her opinion.

He looked over her body. Her legs curled up next to her. They were within reach, and so was her hand. The lights were still turned off. It would be the perfect cover. He reached over and took a swig from Bragnae’s drink, and after placing it back in the cup holder, he casually slid his hand over to her side of the chair.

His hand flattened against her bare leg. He felt her tense for a moment, no doubt from the surprise of his touch, but then she relaxed as he continued to moved up. Drake slipped his fingers under her hand, and watched as she slowly tightened her grip around him.

She kept a steady conversation going. She was getting better at not getting distracted when she was in front of others. That was good. It meant she was growing more comfortable with him touching her in public. Drake smiled inside. Having this physical contact with her meant so much.

Then, Liam came back. “Hey, Bragnae. Will you come here for a second?”

She immediately let go of Drake’s hand, and stood from her chair casually. Thankfully, the darkness of the room concealed his shameful efforts to intimately touch the queen.

“Go ahead and keep playing the movie, guys. We’ll be right back.” Liam told them, placing a hand on the small of Bragnae’s back as they left the room.

Drake sighed as he begrudgingly settled back into his chair to watch the movie. With Bragnae gone, what the fuck was the point anyway?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liam led Bragnae to a small parlor just down the hall from the theater room. It was decorated like a cigar lounge with dark furniture and mahogany walls. There was a small fire place against the far wall, and a round table in the middle of the room.

“What’s going on, Liam?” Bragnae asked, feeling concerned that he took her somewhere more private.

Liam closed the door behind her, sighing as he rubbed his forehead. “My father collapsed again today.”

“Oh no. Is he okay? Should we go see him?”

Liam shook his head. “No, he’s fine. He insisted that I not make a special trip to his room to see him. Only when it was convenient, he said. The doctor told him to do more resting than anything else, and to stay away from anything stressful. He wants to be able to attend your coronation in a few days, so he’s taking the doctor’s orders seriously.” His gaze fell to the floor.

Bragnae raised her eyebrows in surprised. She knew Constantine didn’t like her much, so she was stunned to hear how enthusiastic he was for her to be officially crowned queen. She skimmed her hands over Liam’s chest, stepping into him. “I’m sorry, honey. I know it must be painful to watch him go through this.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist. “It is. I know his time is coming, but it’s just so hard to watch such a strong man succumb to this condition when he never let anything slow him down before.”

Bragnae ran her hands up his neck and into his hair, lightly massaging his head as she spoke. “We’ll just make sure we spend as much time as we can with him.”

He nodded leaning his forehead against hers. “Thank you for being so supportive.”

“Of course. I’d do anything for you.” Bragnae stood on her toes, brushing her lips against his in a tender and loving kiss.

Liam drew back with a smile on his face. “I love your lips. So full of passion and love.” He bent down to take her mouth again, this time more ardently than before. His hands traveled down her backside and to her thighs as he picked her up, setting her down on top of the table.

The wooden surface was cool on her bare legs. She looked up at him seeing a familiar heat in his eyes. He trailed a hand over her breast, and down her body, letting it linger near the hem of her dress.

“I’m a little surprised you’re turned on after hearing about your father.” She smirked up at him, her fingers dancing over the buttons of his shirt.

He chuckled softly. “Well, it’s not because of what I heard that I’m turned on.” He looked over her body, sighing with appreciation. “It’s all you. I can’t help but feel this way when you’re around.” Liam flattened both of his hands on her thighs focusing his attention on them. As his hands slid up, he slowly spread her legs until they were wide enough that he could stand between them.

He pulled her body so it was flush against his. She could feel how hard he was for her already, and gasped as tingles shot to her core.

“I knew this no panties thing would come in handy today.” He smirked down at her.

Bragnae reached for the zipper of his pants, bringing it down as she held his gaze. “That’s why you’re the king. You’re always thinking ahead.” She unbuckled his belt, and popped the button to his slacks open before sliding them and his boxers down his hips, not quite revealing her prize.

Extending her hand past the elastic band of his boxers, she wrapped her fingers around his rock-solid cock. She stroked him gently a few times before releasing him from the fabric. Liam groaned from her touch, watching her hands move against him.

Bragnae drew her hand away slowly, and laid back on the table, keeping her eyes on his the whole time. “Liam, I want you to fuck me right here.”

He pressed his palms onto the wooden surface, leaning over her body. “It would be my pleasure.” He dipped down to kiss her softly. “And yours.”

She shivered with delight as he gripped his cock and guided it into her. Bragnae arched her back as he pushed his way in, moaning from the pleasure she already felt as her walls tightened around him.

Liam gripped her thighs to hold her in place as he thrusted into her over and over. “You look so good sprawled out over the table.”

“It’s so hot watching you drive into me like that.” Even though he still had his shirt on, she could see his bulging biceps strain against the fabric as he worked. His handsome face adorned with a look of fire and determination. He grinned wickedly as his pace and force increased.

Bragnae lost her breath from the intensity of his movements. His pelvis slammed against her clit as he filled her with every thrust, sending a satisfying thrill through her body. Her fingertips gripped the table top, feeling her release beckoning.

Liam grunted. “You’re close, baby. I can feel it. You’re squeezing the shit out of my cock.” He closed his eyes breathing heavily. “You’re going to make me come too fast.”

“Liam… Liam…Liam!” The orgasm struck fiercely, lifting Bragnae off the table with a loud cry that teetered off into ragged breaths before she dropped back down to the table.

“Fuck yes,” he said through gritted teeth. Liam’s pumps slowed until he eventually held still inside her. His head fell back as he exhaled sharply.

Bragnae mustered the strength to sit up so she could wrap her arms around him. She needed to feel his lips on hers, and luckily he felt the same. She reveled in their lazy, but comforting kiss.

“I love you,” she said softly.

Liam kissed her again. “I love you more.”

Hana helped pluck the eight pound ceremonial crown off Bragnae’s head, and replaced it with a bejeweled golden tiara embellished with rubies and diamonds. She had just been crowned Queen of Cordonia – officially – and now it was time to celebrate.

Liam had invited dignitaries from neighboring kingdoms to her Coronation Ball, and tonight she would be honored. Her elaborate gown was a deep crimson with beads and crystals sewn in throughout. Liam wore a matching coat, and looked stunning as he placed the crown on top of her head.

Three days had passed since she saw her friends for the movie night. Bragnae was swept up in a whirlwind of activities and a jam packed schedule to prepare for her coronation among other things. She hadn’t even had the time to sneak off with Drake, and it was beginning to take its toll.

She’d catch glimpses of him in the hallways, giving him rueful smiles as she passed hoping he understood how busy she was. There wasn’t even time to have a five minute conversation with him, let alone strip their clothes and become one together. It was even hard to find time to be with Liam with as busy as they both were, and they shared a bed at night. Needless to say, Bragnae’s stress level was through the roof, and she was more than happy to be finished with the ceremonial part of the evening.

Hana walked with Bragnae to the entrance of the ballroom where Liam was waiting to escort her.

“There you are Queen Bragnae,” Liam said, bringing her hand to his lips. “Ready for your ball?”

She nodded. “Of course.” Liam held out his bent arm for Bragnae to slink her hand through as the double doors to the ballroom were opened.

The herald stepped forward. “Ladies and gentlemen of Cordonia, distinguished guests. May I present His Majesty King Liam and Her Majesty Queen Bragnae.”

The room erupted in a roaring applause as they made their way through the crowd. Liam led her to the stage where a long table was set up for them and their closest confidants. Once they reached their seats and before they sat down, Liam addressed the crowd.

“Thank you all for joining me on this momentous occasion to celebrate the coronation of our beautiful Queen Bragnae. Please, enjoy the evening as we honor her.” Liam kissed her cheek and sat down as did the rest of the room.

Drake sat on the other side of her husband with Hana to her right. As dinner was served, Bragnae would steal a few glances at Drake when she looked towards Liam. He was wearing a gray suit and looked very handsome. It had felt like such a long time since they last touched, much less spoke, and it was incredibly hard not to dive into a conversation with him without something substantial to say. She didn’t want to give herself away with Liam sitting in between them witnessing the whole thing.

As they finished their meals, Bastien walked up to Liam, lowering his head to speak with him. “Your Majesty, your father would like a word with you. He’s in the royal lounge.”

Liam nodded as he began to stand up. Elegant classical music started playing from the quartet in the corner of the room. Liam cursed low as he straightened his jacket, turning to Drake.

“Drake, would do me a favor and dance with my queen, so she doesn’t miss the first one of the evening? I have to go speak with my father.”

Bragnae’s heart fluttered at her husband’s request. She immediately turned to Drake who was already making a face.

“You’re asking me to dance? Really, Liam?” He asked in his usual snarky tone. Her eyes met his briefly as she waited for their exchange to play out. She couldn’t wait to feel his hands on her again, and Liam was giving them the opportunity.

Liam put a hand on his shoulder. “I know I’m asking a lot of you, old friend, but I just can’t bear to see my lovely wife sit on the sidelines while I have to tend to my father. What do you say?”

Drake looked at the table in front of him and sighed loudly before looking back at Bragnae. “Alright.” She knew he was just keeping with his ruse, but she narrowed her eyes at him anyway for his protests. That prompted a slight smirk from him, and she about fell out of her chair. She had to be careful. She was so hard up for any interaction with Drake that she might just give herself away.

“Wonderful,” Liam said as he leaned over to Bragnae. “I’m sorry I’ll miss this dance, my queen, but you’ll be in good hands.”

That I will. Liam lowered his lips to hers for a sweet kiss. She smiled at him as he pulled away, but couldn’t help it when her eyes flicked to Drake. Even though he knew damn well that she was married to Liam, which meant she’d kiss and make love to her husband, she knew it probably made him uncomfortable to watch. She felt bad when it was directly in his face like that. His unenthused expression validated her thoughts.

As Liam walked away, Drake put his napkin on the table and rose. He took a step towards her and extended his hand. “Your Majesty, may I have this dance?”

She peered up at his dark eyes already feeling lost in them. “Yes, you may.” Slipping her hand into his as she stood sent a shiver down her spine. Immediately, butterflies swarmed her stomach as she ached to be touched more by him.

Drake led her to the dance floor where they took position. As she felt his hand cup her waist, her breath stuttered and her knees grew weak. She looked up at him, her eyes scouring every inch of his handsomely rugged face.

“Stop looking at me like that, Bennett,” he said abruptly as he began to lead her in the dance.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me.”

Bragnae suddenly felt self-conscious and worried she was giving herself away. She swallowed, looking down at his chest before returning her desperate eyes to his.

“Harden your eyes. Pretend I just said something snarky,” he told her in a calm voice.

She followed his direction and narrowed her eyes at him, adding a sassy tilt to her head.

“There you go.” He squeezed his hand around her waist briefly as they continued to dance. “It’s your night. Every person in this room has their eyes on you. Don’t forget that.”

“I know. I just missed you so much. It feels like forever since you last touched me.” She looked to their joined hands trying to collect herself before looking back at his face.

“I miss you too,” he said coolly as he twirled her out of his arms across the dance floor.

She admired his strength and composure. She was so weak compared to him. “You’re so good at this,” she sighed before returning to his arms again. “This is so hard.”

“Come on, Bennett. It’s the Cordonian Waltz. You know this,” he smiled casually down at her.

“No, I meant…”

“I know what you meant. It’s hard for me too. You’ve been busy lately.”

Her fingers lightly caressed the top of his shoulder as they moved. She hoped no one would notice. “I have been, and I hate it. I’m sorry, Drake.”

“Don’t apologize. I know you would have found time if you could have.” He looked stoic with his straight posture and calm demeanor. To the unsuspecting person, he might look like he was bored and just dancing out of obligation.

As the music came to a close, Drake brought Bragnae in close to dip her back slightly. His face closer to hers than it had been the entire dance.

“Drake, if I don’t feel your hands and lips on me soon, I may die.” It may have been dramatic, but she felt every word deep at her core.

“Soon,” he said, bringing her upright again. He bowed to her as she curtsied. “I’ll find you later.”

Drake eye’s connected with hers with a seriousness that made her spine tingle, and then he walked away. Bragnae took a deep breath and began to mingle with the crowd – something she needed to do, but wasn’t in the mood for. She needed to focus her energy on anything else besides being with Drake, and that would be a challenge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour or so later, Drake stopped at the bar in the back of the room for a glass of whiskey. He saw Liam speaking to Maxwell, so he strolled over to join them.

“She’s really hot. God, look at her,” Maxwell said as he and Liam looked towards a blonde woman wearing a light blue shimmering gown. “I think her name’s Rebecca. I’m going to go talk to her.”

“Go get her, buddy,” Liam cheered him on.

“Hey,” Drake said, taking a sip from his glass. “How’s your night going?”

“Oh, hey, Drake. Good. How about yours?” Liam asked, plucking a flute off of a server’s tray.

“As fancy balls go, it’s not so bad.”

Liam’s eyebrows raised as he took a drink. “High praise. So, have you had a chance to scope out a lucky young lady yet? There’s plenty to choose from.”

Drake’s eyes immediately found Bragnae in the crowd. She was talking to a couple on the opposite side of the room. “Nah.” He let his eyes casually scan the rest of the room. “No one here is really my type.”

Liam scoffed. “Since when do you have a type? They’re women. You fuck them and move on. What’s the big deal?”

He was right. Even though Drake openly showed his distaste for the nobility, it didn’t stop him from taking one to bed in the past. Discreetly at times. His status as a commoner wasn’t publicly appealing to some, but they insisted on Drake showing them a good time anyway. He didn’t care that much, mostly because he was getting laid, but sometimes he cringed at the pathetic irony of it all. He wasn’t good enough to sit at their table, but he was more than qualified to fuck their brains out behind closed doors.

“No one here is really… doing it for me,” he said, taking another swig of whiskey.

“You’re insane. There’s plenty of beautiful women here.” Liam smiled at a pair of women embedded in the crowd not too far from where they were standing.

The dark-haired woman smiled back, wiggling her fingers in an attempt to wave. The strawberry-blonde next to her took a flirtatious stance, simultaneously running her hand down the arm of her friend while biting her lip looking in Liam’s direction.

Drake watched his friend as his gaze focused on the two women. “What are you doing, Liam?”

“What?” He asked keeping his attention on the ladies.

What the fuck? He’s openly flirting with them at his wife’s coronation ball. “You’re checking out other women.”

“It’s okay, Drake. I’m not going to do anything with them.” He continued to smile their way.

The nerve of this asshole. Sure, Drake knew he had no business lecturing someone on ethics, but when it involved potentially hurting Bragnae, he didn’t give a shit. He stepped in front of Liam, blocking his view. “You better not, Liam. You’re married now. Things are different. You can’t just fuck any girl you want anymore.”

Liam scoffed again, gently pushing Drake to the side. “Relax, Drake. I have the most gorgeous woman in the whole kingdom as my wife. I don’t need them. They’re just fun to look at from time to time. No harm in that.”

Whole kingdom? Try the whole fucking world, dickhead. Drake was suddenly very disgusted with his friend. It was as if Liam didn’t truly appreciate what he had, what he claimed as his own. And that pissed him off. One of the ladies beckoned him with a not-so-subtle nod, and Drake watched in shock as Liam strode over to them.

That bastard. Bragnae doesn’t deserve this. If Bragnae was his wife, he’d only have eyes for her. He’d appreciate everything about her. He’d worship and cherish her like the goddess she was. And that’s what he’d do now. Fuck Liam.

Drake finished off the whiskey in his glass and set it down on a server’s tray as he made his way across the room. He sidled up next to Bragnae lightly tapping her on the shoulder. She turned to face him, beaming.

“Your Majesty, may I have a moment of your time?”

“Of course, Drake. One second.” She turned back to the couple she was already speaking with closing out her conversation with them. When they walked away, she shifted her attention back to him.

“What can I do for you?” She asked with hope in her eyes.

Drake took a small step towards her lowering his voice. “Would you like to meet me in my room in 20 minutes?”

“I’d love to,” she replied immediately. “I’ll see then.” She spun around and walked to another group of people who undoubtedly were waiting to speak with her that evening.

Drake grinned as he left the ballroom. He headed straight for his room to wait.

Exactly twenty minutes later, Drake heard the knock on his door. He stood against the wall waiting for her. He didn’t want her to have to wait in the hall for long in case anyone saw her. Opening the door wide, Bragnae smiled and entered his room.

As soon as the door was closed, Drake pushed her against the wall with vigor, kissing her with all the hunger he’d built up over the past four days. Bragnae clutched his back bringing him as close as she could muster. Her eagerness fueled him even more. His tongue found hers in a sensual duel as he pressed into her. She moaned against his mouth running her fingers through his hair and gripping it tight.

The fast paced carnal stimulation coursed through his body making him harder by the second. The gown she wore was thick and he could barely feel the curves of her body, so he started to lift up the heavy fabric when she stopped him.

“No,” she said breathlessly. “Please. I need to feel you touch me everywhere. Take this dress off me.”

The corner of his mouth lifted as he devoured hers again in a passionate kiss. After a moment, she moaned to get his attention. He pulled back to let her speak.

“And don’t mess up my hair.” She smiled.

“Anything else, Your Majesty?” Playful snark dripped from every word.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. Once you get this dress off of me, I want you to fuck me really hard – like you missed me.” Bragnae panted as she bore a sultry look into him.

“That won’t be difficult… because I did. Very much.” Before she could say anything else, Drake spun her around so he could get her out of the dress. He located the zipper immediately. “Thank Christ this is easy to take off of you.”

Bragnae laughed, looking over her shoulder at him with her hands braced against the wall. As soon as the zipper was all the way down, Drake pushed it off her shoulders and down to the floor with ease. She turned to face him as he scooped her up and out of the pile of fabric.

She skipped the bra with this gown, so that was one less obstacle in his way. He tore off his own suit jacket leaving a fitted, white button-up, a gray vest, and the damned tie. He immediately regretted an outfit with so many layers. He started to tug at his tie when Bragnae put her hand over his.

“Here, let me.” She loosened his tie enough to pull it over his head without untying it. Her hands skimmed over his bulging muscles, biting her lip as she looked him over. “You’re so fucking hot, Drake.”

His eyes raked over her body. She still wore a jeweled gold necklace, a black lacy thong, and high heels that accentuated her toned legs amazingly. He blew out a whistle. “Look who’s talking.”

She continued to remove his clothes exposing his chest halfway down.

“Just leave it like that. At least now I can breathe.”

Bragnae frowned. “I wanted to see you, too.”

“There’s not a lot of time, Bennett. We’re sneaking away from a ball in your honor. We better make this quick, so you’re not missed.”

“Okay, but the next time we’re together, I want us both to be completely naked. And I want to take our time, so I can appreciate every inch of you.” She ran her hand down his chest, palming his erection.

Drake groaned. “I promise you next time I won’t be wearing a goddamn thing.” He pulled her in for another kiss. “Now, I believe you wanted to feel my hands everywhere.” He spun her around once again so her back was to his chest.

Bragnae moaned approvingly as Drake nudged her head to the side, laying soft kisses on her neck. She rested her head on his shoulder as his hands cupped both of her breasts, kneading them slowly and rolling her nipples between his fingers. She gasped when he became overzealous and tugged them hard.

He dropped one hand down her stomach, sliding under the fabric of her panties. His fingers circled around her clit before dropping further down to her silky opening. He glided a finger inside her easily groaning along with her.

“I love how wet you get when we’re together,” he whispered against her neck.

“I’m always ready for you, baby.” She curled an arm around his neck, leaning her weight against him as his fingers skated a figure eight over her sensitive skin. “I want you, Drake.”

Oh, thank God. He removed his hand and gently pushed her forward toward his bed, so he stood behind her. Finding the lace with his fingers, he pulled her thong halfway down her legs before undoing his pants. Drake gripped his steel hard cock in his hand and guided himself to her heat. He rubbed his tip where his fingers traced making her tremble.

Bragnae gripped the blankets on the bed as he pushed himself inside her. “Ohmigod. I missed your dick so much.”

Drake chuckled. “And it missed you.” The warmth and softness of her beckoning walls made his knees grow weak. “We’re not going to mess up that pretty little hair-do you got going on, but I am going to fuck the shit outta you. Are you ready?”

“Oh, God yes.”

A wicked grin crossed over his lips. “Hold on.” Drake gripped her hips drawing back slowly, and into her again. And another. And then he thrust into her with all his might. Their bodies connecting in an audible force over and over again.

Bragnae exhaled quick but sweet sounds every time Drake drove into her. Each thrust deeper than the last. His hastened pace, the sight of her luscious body slapping against his, the noises she made, the mind-numbing pleasure of her hot, wet walls contracting around his cock overwhelmed him. He was close… oh, so close to coming. He prayed she’d find her release soon because he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to. He needed Bragnae and this delicious surrender.

Without warning, Bragnae erupted into a fury of cries. Her lungs singing praises in a chorus of pants and spontaneous moans. Her pussy emphatically embracing his cock. With one more thrust, Drake gave in, satisfying every need in his body.

Letting out shaky breaths, Drake draped himself over Bragnae kissing her back in between breaths. After another moment of enjoying their pleasures, he helped Bragnae to stand, pulling her panties back up. She turned to him looping her arms around his neck.

“That was amazing.” She pulled him down for a tender kiss.

“You’re amazing.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his finger. Looking into her eyes he was reminded of his conversation with Liam earlier. Before him stood an incredible woman in every sense of the word, and Liam took her for granted. A part of him wanted to tell her what he witnessed earlier. If she knew how frivolous Liam was being with other women, maybe she’d want to leave him.

“Bragnae,” he said, taking a deep breath. “You’re beautiful, smart, and sexy as hell. You make me so happy. I love you.” He couldn’t do it. Not because he’d be ratting out Liam. No. Fuck him. He couldn’t tell her because it would hurt her, and he wouldn’t be the one to do that. Not again.

An endearing smile transformed her lips. “I love you, Drake. You make me very happy, too.” Their mouths met again in a loving kiss that lingered.

Drake helped her into her dress after tucking himself back into his suit. He’d happily wear Bragnae’s glaze on his dick for the rest of the night. He couldn’t claim much when it came to her, but at least he’d have this memento from their time together.

Drake peeked outside his door to make sure the hallway was clear. No one was coming in either direction. He closed the door again, peering back at Bragnae who was looking herself over in his mirror, straightening her dress and ensuring her hair was in place.

He couldn’t help but smile. “You look great.”

She beamed, walking over to him. “I feel great.” She rose to her tip toes to kiss him, playfully tugging at his lower lip with her teeth. “We better get going.”

Drake opened the door stepping out before Bragnae. As soon as she cleared the doorway, he turned to lock the door. She pulled him into another quick kiss.

“What the hell is going on?” A familiar, indignant voice demanded behind them.

They broke their kiss immediately. Drake spun around. His heart caught in his throat when he saw Constantine standing before them livid. Frozen, wide-eyed and unable to speak, Drake’s mind raced searching for anything he could use as an excuse.

Constantine stepped forward looking at Drake. “You should be ashamed of yourself. You’re Liam’s best friend. How could you go behind his back like this? You’re a pathetic, commoner filth, and I hope Liam shows you no mercy.”

Drake snapped out of his stunned trance, narrowing his eyes at the former king.

Constantine focused his wrath on Bragnae next. “And you. I was right to paint you as the whore you are. You’re filling that role quite well, young lady.”

Drake instinctively stepped in front of Bragnae to protect her. Rage brewed inside him. He wouldn’t get away with speaking to her like that.

“Say what you will about me, but you will not speak to her that way.” Drake clenched his fists tightly considering whether or not to hit the old man.

Constantine scoffed. “I call it like I see it, and she is a whore. What would your father say if he saw how you are disgracing the Crown? Betraying your best friend? It’s deplorable—,” the former king’s sudden coughing cut off his sentence.

Bragnae took a step forward to reach out to him, but Drake held her back. They watched as Constantine struggled to compose himself as the coughing continued. He clutched his chest gasping for air that was blocked by more coughing.

Drake, filled with a burning hatred for the man, watched as Constantine dropped to the floor attempting to catch his breath, but was not successful. The former king lay on his back as one last wheezing inhale was made before the life drained out of his eyes and his body went limp.

Bragnae gasped, bringing her hands to cover her mouth.

Drake bent down putting his fingers to Constantine’s throat to check for a pulse. There was no way he was walking away from this not being certain the asshole was dead. Satisfied that he no longer lived, Drake stood again.

His eyes darted back and forth as he formulated a plan. He turned to Bragnae, grabbing her arms to get her attention. After a second, she shook herself finding his eyes. Fear and shock consumed her. “Go find Liam, and tell him you saw his father struggling to breathe, and he needs help. Go now.”

Bragnae stared at him for a second before looking back at Constantine. “But…”

“Bragnae,” he said firmly, “go!” He gave her a light push to get her moving. Drake watched her hustle down the hallway.

Clenching his teeth, he glared at Constantine’s lifeless body feeling grateful his and Bragnae’s secret remained safe.

#trr #trr liam #trr drake #TRR Forbidden Fanfic #the royal romance #drake walker #king liam #bragnae bennett #Queen of cordonia #very steamy fanfic

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vatrixsta · 6 years ago

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How Long Will I Love You (1/2)

PRESTO! @the-corsair-and-her-quill IT IS I, YOUR SECRET SANTA! It was so, so fun stalking getting to know you over the last few weeks! Because you do not love Christmas in a traditional, cheesy way, I have written you an angsty CS AU Emma who is having trouble with her husband. Yes, it’s very cheery :D Hopefully I’ve read the room right when it comes to your tastes and preferences and I REALLY REALLY hope you enjoy it!!

I’ve tried to leave the first part in an okay place, but I’m hoping to finish it off for you by the weekend at the latest. Yes, it’s the gift that unfortunately keeps on giving!

Man, I really thought I could write this little angst bomb as a one shot, but I very much underestimated my own desire to torture poor Emma. This will be up on AO3 after I’ve... slept. MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!

How Long Will I Love you (1/2)

xxx

Emma Swan-Jones was absolutely positive of one thing: her husband was hiding something.

Killian was not the secretive type. He’d worn his heart on his sleeve as long as she’d known him, something that had caused them both a great deal of frustration early on in their courtship. Emma had been jaded single mother just trying to keep her and Henry’s head above water and Killian… well, he’d just been so steadfast, so sure right from the start that it had freaked her out a little. The fact that he was Henry’s favorite author? That had definitely made his job of winning her heart a hell of a lot harder.

So yes, she’d been the one pulling away, doubting, constantly testing him for the first few months of their relationship, something she felt bad about later but honestly couldn’t imagine any other way. Her walls had been sky high after, you know, her whole fucking life, being abandoned, foster care, all the people who made it clear they never wanted her and no one ever really would - then fucking Neal and prison and Henry was the only good thing she got out of all that - no way would she get a charming British rogue who spent his free time writing children’s stories about a skewed take on Peter Pan. No, that was not for her, no matter how much he tried to convince her that she and Henry were all he wanted.

Except… he had. They built a life together. They got married. They moved around for a long time, three nomads looking for a place to plant roots as Emma’s work took her wherever the leads did and Henry was all too happy to continue home study and Killian could write from anywhere. He let her read his first drafts and she let him read over her shoulder when she was researching her skips. He was constantly challenging her and annoying her and being the best stepdad to Henry and just… he wasn’t perfect, but he also kind of was? She could barely remember what life was like before their twosome became three; didn’t really want to remember. It felt like they’d always been together, the three of them, with Killian in charge of steering the ship, emotionally speaking.

Maybe that was the real problem. Emma had gotten used Killian always being the grown up in the relationship and now that he was taking up the part of the sullen, moody teenager who lied to her face when she asked him what was wrong, she didn’t know how to deal with it.

Hadn’t he read the contract between them? She was the moody teenager in the relationship, at least for a few more years, before Henry turned into an actual moody teenager.

This had to stop. She was going to stop it. Be the bigger person. Not fall back on decades of rejection and shitty emotional behavior and lose the nerve to force him to talk to her.

….

So yeah, she totally lost the nerve. Killian was sitting in the office, broodily staring at a blank computer screen and she tried to use the perfect opening.

“Hey. Are the pages not cooperating?”

It was smooth. She actually thought about it before she said it, not at all typical Emma behavior. She’d asked him about his writing before, when it seemed like he was in a bit of a funk and he’d always use the opportunity to escape for awhile, maybe take Henry to a movie or, if they were near water, to look at the boats by the harbor. Sometimes he’d compliment her - all, your boy’s a marvel, Swan, nothing like a trip to the pier with the little spitfire to knock a spot of writer’s block into the dust. Over time, it became our boy and her heart clenched with how easily the word rolled off his tongue and hers.

So his response today was somewhat underwhelming.

“What?” he asked, distracted, moody, dare she say - a bit twitchy.

Emma’s eyes narrowed. Every hackle she has was rising. But this was her husband. She trusted him. She loved him, completely. So he was having an off week. She’d had her share of them and he bore them with grace. She was not going to interrogate him like a suspect.

“Let’s go out to dinner,” she said, trying to be positive. Henry was at a sleepover and maybe he was feeling like she was - a little out of sorts without their favorite playmate. She would ignore the fact that this behavior had been going on for weeks, pretty much, she realized, since they’d settled down in Boston. “Somewhere nice, with tablecloths where you can get handsy while we overpay for whatever’s labeled market price.”

Seafood and groping - two of her husband’s favorite treats. But when his eyes flickered, it wasn’t with the normal interest and good humor she expected. If she had to name the emotion that flashed behind those blue, blue eyes of his, a split second before his whole face shuttered to a neutral expression, she’d call it guilt. Maybe even a pinch of despair.

“I’m sorry, Swan,” he said, definitely looking sorry, but not in a way she liked, “I should really keep plugging away at this.” He gestured at the keyboard with his prosthetic hand, the right scratching at the back of his neck like he had a rash.

“Yeah. Me too. I’ll make us some pasta then,” she mumbled, tucking down how much his rejection and the fact that he was lying to her hurt.

She fled to the kitchen and threw together a simple dinner neither of them really touched. He escaped back to his office as soon as he could and she went to bed early, wondering what the hell was going on with the man she married.

~~~

Henry returned from his sleepover late the next day and since it was Sunday, he reminded Killian they were supposed to check out the docks, an activity they hadn’t had time for since they moved to town. Boston was both big and small and getting to specific parts of the city sometimes took a huge chunk of time unless you were on foot. That was why they’d splurged on an apartment that was pricey but perfect and if you squinted, just within their budget - Killian had a great nest egg from the book sales and would receive an advance as soon as he’d finished the first three chapters of his next book. Emma had been saving from the moment she graduated from waiting tables to bail bonds and their combined good financial habits had secured them three bedrooms, a top floor and a glorious view of the water.

“It’ll be perfect, Swan,” Killian had said while they were still living from rental to rental. “Our first little hideaway by the sea until you retire and we can live somewhere much quieter, with fewer bail jumpers needing your always pertinent attention.”

That was back when he was still sweet talking her like usual. God, she hoped his outing with Henry would help him settle. He was always calmer by the water and the view aside, she knew he wasn’t satisfied until he’d gotten a good lungful of salt air.

She bided her time while they were out by doing laundry. Every time she passed the office - they shared it, but since his work dictated a quiet space a lot more than hers did, it was mostly Killian’s domain - she had to fight off the knee jerk urge she had to go snooping on his computer for answers. The doubt that was beginning to live in her breastbone was making it hard to remember how much she trusted Killian, like she’d never trusted anyone in her life.

The urge to snoop was definitely going to get the better of her if she stayed in the apartment, so Emma quickly bundled up and grabbed her wallet and keys. They were out of eggs and a few other essentials. Besides, it was six weeks ‘til Christmas and with all the moving drama she hadn’t bought anything for Henry or Killian. She could at least do some in person recon before she came home and ordered them stuff online.

She was putting away groceries when the apartment door banged shut.

“Hey Kid,” she greeted Henry, noticing the lack of anyone else behind him. “Where’s Killian?”

“He said he had an errand,” Henry huffed into the kitchen and noted Killian’s behavior with his usual tact and charm. “What crawled up his butt?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. “We were having a good time, we got ice cream and he was telling me about ships and Liam and it reminded me about my ancestry project for school. I asked him about his parents and he reminded me - as if I didn’t know - that he isn’t my biological father. We kind of… had a fight. He was trying to talk to me about him.”

Emma paused with the Eggos halfway to the freezer. Him. That was how Henry had referred to Neal since he was old enough to understand their history. Emma had no idea why Killian was suddenly bringing the subject up - as far as she knew, his feelings about Neal mirrored her own: if she ever ran into him in a dark alley, she’d at least bloody her knuckles on some part of his face.

“Maybe Killian was just trying to make sure you didn’t want to talk about him,” Emma offered. “I haven’t exactly done the best job of keeping you a neutral third party where he’s concerned. It would be… normal… if you were curious about your dad.” The words were like ash on her tongue, but she forced them out, mentally awarding herself ten points for Gryffindor.

Henry made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. “After what he did to you? I don’t care about him. He’s not my dad. Killian’s…” He looked down and Emma was horrified to see tears in his eyes. “I thought Killian… I guess I was wrong.”

“Hey.” Emma put her hand on Henry’s chin and pulled his head up to meet her eyes. “Killian would take a bullet for you, kid. Whatever is going on with him - it is not about you and it is not about how much he loves you. Got it?”

“Got it,” Henry mumbled, eyes still downcast. “Can I play Xbox until dinner?”

Sighing, Emma forced her stiff little boy into an embrace and kissed his forehead soundly. “Yeah. Play something nice and violent.”

He nodded against her side then trudged into his room. Emma pursed her lips.

Fuck it. She was snooping on his computer. Henry was upset by whatever the hell was wrong with him and she was done being the mature adult. Ten points from Gryffindor - maybe she’d always belonged in Slytherin after all.

xxx

All Emma got out of snooping through Killian’s laptop was a recipe for buttered rum and a knot of guilt in her stomach. His browser history was weeks old, like he hadn’t searched for anything; she even tried all the tricks she knew to find hidden tracks on a laptop - he’d really done nothing on it since before they’d moved to Boston and that included working on the new book.

Maybe his odd behavior really was as simple as an intense case of writer’s block. Maybe he was afraid to tell her, because they’d gotten this fancy apartment and with the bail bonds trade usually drying up a bit after the holidays, they’d be counting on his advance once he delivered his publisher the detailed synopsis.

Abandoning her shitty, mistrustful wife plan, Emma headed back to the kitchen (it was possible she’d left the ice cream out to melt) but stopped when she heard not the sounds of violent bloody gore, but quiet voices coming from Henry’s bedroom.

“It’s fine,” Henry was saying in a tone that clearly indicated it was anything but.

“It’s really not,” Killian said and Emma leaned against the wall that kept her out of their line of sight but made eavesdropping on Henry’s room much easier. Hey, the view wasn’t the only reason she’d been eager for this apartment.

“I just… I guess I thought… we were a family,” Henry said, sounding so vulnerable Emma wanted to hug him and hurt Killian a little for making him sound that way.

“Henry… lad.” Then Killian sounded just as lost, just as broken, and Emma just wanted to wrap her arms around them both. “The love I have for you and your mother outweighs all the grains of sand in this or any other realm. Never doubt that.”

“Then why did you bring him up?” Henry asked. “I don’t want to do my ancestry project about him. I can’t ask Mom, because she doesn’t know who her parents are. I know yours are gone, but you knew them at least. I still want to do my project about my family.”

Killian took a deep breath. She knew well the sound of air filling his lungs from a thousand nights falling asleep with her ear pressed to his chest, a thousand moments sat across from him as he prepared himself to say something sappy or meaningful or cheeky.

“My father’s name was Brennan and my mother’s name was Alice. They married young -- too young, it turns out. He was a bastard and she would have adored spoiling you, her first grandchild, young master Henry.”

Emma bit her lip hard to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. Her boys kept speaking to one another, Henry asking questions, then telling Killian to wait, he had to write this down, and Killian detailing as much of his history as he could - the small English village he was born into, the Jones line before him (he’d never known his grandparents and unfortunately couldn’t be of much help further back, but he did delight Henry by informing him they were rumored to be descended from the Davey Jones) and any other detail that came to mind. Emma was pretty sure he was making at least some of it up, but it was a fifth grade ancestry project and she’d punch any teacher who gave Henry less than an A for the yarn he was about to spin.

Deciding she’d had enough of this emotional roller coaster, Emma spent some time researching a skip - he was slippery and she might have to go out of town for a few days to nab him. With Killian and Henry on an even keel, she felt a lot better about the prospect.

A solid hour of research confirmed her suspicion - Travis the douchebag had fled to Rhode Island and was stupid enough to still be using his own credit cards. He had also already set up a new Tinder profile. Emma would drive the Bug to the most recent hit she had on his card and let the tight red dress on her Tinder profile do the rest of the location job for her.

She’d leave in the morning. She wanted to spend the night with her boys first.

They were still in Henry’s room, though ancestry talk had morphed into the video game Killian hated playing the least, something with knights and quests. They were spread out on Henry’s small full bed and Emma took a flying leap between them, forcing them to either dive out of the way and lose a life or accept her full weight.

Naturally they both took the hit, their characters living to fight another day.

“Oi! Swan,” Killian complained.

“Jesus, Mom,” Henry added, sounding much more parental than she ever did.

“Third controller,” she demanded.

Henry hooked the wire with his foot and launched it at her. She caught it easily and entered the game when it let her. Every time she did something Killian or Henry couldn’t, she elbowed them until Killian finally called for a mutiny. He and Henry ganged up on her, assaulting her with tickling fingers and raspberries, the game abandoned and Emma feeling lighter than she had in weeks.

xxx

“I have to go to Rhode Island tomorrow,” Emma said later that night after they’d settled into bed. Killian seemed to be keeping a little more distance between them than was customary and he was also wearing his prosthetic to bed, which he never did.

“Hmm?” Killian responded, irking her because apparently he wasn’t even listening to her.

“I’m going away tomorrow,” she repeated, turning on her side to face him. He was staring at the ceiling, the black t-shirt he wore getting in the way of her favorite pillow, his chest hair. Come to think of it, he’d been withholding her favorite pillow for awhile now. She’d been so exhausted by the move that she’d basically fallen asleep as soon as her head hit an actual pillow.

He finally turned to face her. “Where are you going?”

“Rhode Island,” she repeated. “I’ve got a hit on a skip. It’ll be a nice payday for the holidays.”

“That’s good,” he said, nodding a bit, mostly to himself, it seemed.

“I’ll be gone a few days, most likely,” she added, frowning when he just nodded again. “I’ll miss you, too,” she said sarcastically, before turning her back on him, half curling into a ball of confused anger and sadness.

“Swan,” he muttered.

“Save it,” she said. “If you’re not going to tell me the truth, I don’t want to hear it.”

Several moments passed, so many that she really thought he was going to remain silent. Then, so quietly she might have missed it if she hadn’t been listening so carefully, he spoke.

“Have you ever woken up one morning and felt like an utter fraud?” he asked.

Her frown deepened. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she asked. “Is this about the book?”

“I wish it were about the bloody book, Swan,” he muttered, his his breath close enough that she could feel it puffing against the bare skin of her shoulder. “Just go to sleep.”

“Killian--”

“You’re leaving in the morning, in that deathtrap of yours - I’d like you to be rested before you get on the road. It’s an icy drive this time of year.” He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her back against him and she rested her head against his other arm. He was still keeping her at a distance, but she could feel his concern, his affection, even through such a strange distance. Her mind replayed his declaration to Henry, the passion and conviction in his voice as he’d vowed his love for them both. He hadn’t been lying.

Why the hell would her husband think he was a fraud?

xxx

Emma debated bailing on the trip, but forcing Killian to talk when he clearly wasn’t ready to had never lead anywhere good. So she kissed him and Henry both on the forehead, made them promise to text her updates while she was gone and headed out. Killian had gotten up earlier than she had to make sure the snow chains were on the Bug’s tires and he’d filled the tank up with gas, something she routinely forgot to do until she was already on the road.

Her first night in Rhode Island, Emma logged onto her fake Tinder profile, the one that let her breasts and a tight red dress do all the advertising necessary to pick up any creep in a fifty mile radius. It only took about a hundred left swipes for her mark to pop up and she reluctantly swiped right.

Henry’s text (a picture of the breakfast Killian made him and a row of sad face emojis) interrupted her briefly; she replied that egg whites and salmon were good for a growing boy. Killian’s text (a simple “The boy’s been fed well and sent off to school; come home safe, Swan”) intensified that ache in her chest and she fired off a quick heart emoji in reply. If she started actually texting words, she was afraid word vomit would soon follow and she needed to concentrate on nabbing this dirtbag.

Her skip was laughingly easy to lure but not so seamless to capture. They scuffled outside the restaurant, Emma tackling and handcuffing the guy after a graceless fall sent them both to the icy ground. It was only after she’d handed him off to local law enforcement that she noticed how badly she scraped up her wrist. She rinsed it off in the motel bathroom, but immediately changed into traveling clothes. It was late, but there wouldn’t be traffic at this hour and she’d be home, in bed with her husband, in less than ninety minutes.

Unfortunately, being alone with her thoughts on a long drive and no case to think about meant Emma had little to do but consider Killian’s odd behavior.

When she added it all up - attempting to remind Henry they weren’t actually father and son, the guilt in his eyes, the disinterest in sex, feeling like a fraud - her stomach clenched at the most obvious conclusion: Killian was cheating on her.

Maybe it wasn’t physical. Maybe it was only one time and he didn’t know how to confess. Maybe he had fallen in love with someone else and felt guilty about wanting to leave them. Leave her. Maybe he was only staying for Henry. Maybe he just didn’t know how to tell her he’d made a mistake by marrying her, the same mistake her first foster family had made by wanting to adopt her, only to send her back when she was three.

Emma’s wrist was starting to ache as much as it stung and she worried it might be sprained on top of the scraping. Her vision was also getting blurry, which meant she was probably crying and that always pissed her off, so she used her injured hand to angrily wipe her eyes clear.

If Killian had decided she wasn’t enough, that he wanted something else - that was fine. It would hurt Henry, but they could survive. They were just fine when it was the two of them and they could be a family of two again.

Something hollow started forming in her chest at the thought of no more Killian - no more sullen hours trying to get the words right only to emerge victorious and tumble her into bed to celebrate, no more healthy breakfasts to send them off for the day with ‘vim and vigor,’ no more grown up in the house, no more feeling safe with someone, no more forgetting what it felt like to be a lonely, unwanted little ugly duckling again.

Fucking tears. She was going to get into an accident if she didn’t get a grip on her emotions, but it was impossible when it felt like her whole world was caving in on itself. Killian didn’t lie to her. If he was lying now, it meant… it had to mean something bad, given how long it had gone on, given all the other signs. She wouldn’t be able to make it another night wondering about this. As soon as she got home, she was ripping off the Band-Aid - even if it took several layers of skin with it.

She made a lot of noise coming in the front door, kicking her boots off and leaving them in a messy, wet heap just inside, the way Killian hated. She draped her coat over a chair and caught a look at herself in the mirror by the door - her makeup had run due to all the crying (waterproof my ass) and her hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail, which just made her face look even more gaunt.

“You’re home early.” Killian’s soft voice drifted from the living room and her shoulders hunched in on themselves at the sound of it. The sound of his feet encased in those warm, fuzzy socks Henry loved brought him closer. “Did you get your man?”

Emma turned to look at him and wanted to cry even harder. He was wearing a soft black sweater, one of the many new items they’d purchased for the frigid Boston weather. The dark color made his eyes look even bluer, or maybe that was all the lights she’d just noticed he and Henry must have hung up while she was gone, their whole apartment transformed into a cozy winter wonderland. Like a real family lived here. Like he was planning to stick around until Christmas.

She felt fucking crazy.

“You're hurt,” he said, eyes obviously ticking over her to figure out what was causing her mental breakdown. He moved quickly, his right hand pushing a piece of hair that had escaped her punishing ponytail back behind her ear, thumb skimming over her cheek to trace the black tear track that made it all the more obvious she’d been crying. His eyes were still moving over her face furiously and when he realized she hadn’t been punched or visibly concussed (wouldn’t be the first time) he started scanning the rest of her.

His ex-naval captain’s eagle eye narrowed in on her wrist in a snap and her hand was soon cradled between his right and his prosthetic. He made a tsking sound (chastising her for using water as a disinfectant again) and leaned forward to kiss her forehead, the way he always did when she was hurting. The tears came again but she didn’t try to fight them. He made soft shushing sounds and cradled her hand against his chest protectively, letting her cry it out for a few minutes before gently ushering her into the bathroom.

Emma sat on the sink so he wouldn’t have to crouch and Killian pulled the Neosporin out of the medicine cabinet. He used his teeth to open the bottle then curled her hand over his prosthetic to hold her still. Carefully, he applied the disinfectant, knowing how prone she was to kicking when something stung her. Once he’d gotten a good, thick layer applied, he reached for the gauze.

“Do you think it’s sprained as well?” he asked.

She nodded, unable to make her vocal cords worked and he fetched an ace bandage from the emergency room drawer as well.

“You should get an X-Ray,” he said.

“Maybe,” she agreed, her voice sounding like she’d been crying over a half broken heart for the last hour.

They both knew she wasn’t going to get an X-Ray, but she really, really loved him for worrying about her.

“This is how we met,” she said quietly as he leaned forward, using his teeth to hold one end of the gauze so his right hand could smooth it down.

His gaze snapped up to hers, a wary look in them, and her eyebrows scrunched together. “Remember? My timeless grace?”

If he didn’t even remember how they met, he wouldn’t have to leave her - she was going to kill him.

Killian blinked and nodded slowly, as if the memory was replaying in his mind. He cleared his throat before speaking. “You were carrying drinks for you and Henry. Slipped on a patch of ice. Tore your palm up.”

“You bandaged it with your scarf and tied one end with your mouth. Very ballsy for a total stranger,” she added with an affectionate nudge to his hip with her knee.

“I’m nothing if not bold,” he agreed.

“I never even saw you coming,” she confided. “All those walls and that cynicism and keeping everyone out and I never even saw you coming. I wanted to run so far and so fast from you and I still wanted to jump your bones.”

He scoffed. “You thought I was annoying. And possibly a stalker.”

“I still wanted to jump your bones,” she said. They shared a laugh, but she sobered fast. “I know I did run away after that. I know I… didn’t make it easy.”

Was that it? Was she still more difficult than she thought? Emma thought she’d gotten better at letting him in, that she’d let him all the way in, but maybe… maybe he just got tired of it. Of her. Everyone did eventually, everyone but Henry.

“Emma… I don’t like easy,” he said with that grave tone he sometimes got when he wanted to make sure she understood him. “A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets. You have always been worth the fight of my life, darling. Always.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead, a soft, reverent thing that made her cry again. He brought her bandaged hand to his mouth, kissed the back of it, her palm, her wrist, the patch of skin on her forearm left bare from his first aid work.

“Do… do I need to fight for you?” she asked, the quiet, scared question nothing like the rage she’d planned to unleash on him during her drive. Funny how Killian being Killian could disarm her in the blink of an eye.

“Oh, luv,” Killian muttered, pressing his forehead to hers. “I have been yours from the moment we met. It just took me a little while to realize it. You’ve done nothing wrong, Emma. I’m sorry. I know I’ve been… I’ll be better.”

“I don’t need you to be better. I need you to be you. I need you to want to be here.”

“I do,” he vowed and that was exactly what it was: a vow. “There is nowhere else for me but by your side, Swan.”

“You’re confusing me,” she whispered, like it was a secret.

“I’m confusing me,” he assured her. “Please just… give me a little time? To figure a few things out?”

Emma sighed. It wasn’t the resolution she wanted, but she felt oddly lighter. They hadn’t talked about anything specific, but already her earlier fears felt ridiculous. Most of them, anyway. At least he wasn’t pretending things were fine - he’d given her months of space to realize she was in love with him in the beginning. She could give him a few weeks now, to figure out whatever was going on in that ridiculously attractive head of his.

“You’ve got four weeks ‘til Christmas,” she grumbled. “I want my husband front and center by then, got it, buddy?”

So she wasn’t nearly as patient or understanding as he was. He knew what he was getting into.

His grin at her words indicated that he did and that he still found her rather charming.

She could live with that. For now.

#csss #cssecretsanta2k18 #@cssecretsanta2k18 #captain swan #my fic stuff #cs fic #how long will i love you #MERRY CHRISTMAS

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