#honeymoon couple tumbler

[look-at-the-soul]

Hello, Mar!

I saw your requests and may I request one for Robert plus the song "daydreamer"?

I adore Robert 😭❤️. And he deserves more love 🥺❤️.

Gracias! 🥰

My dear Flor 💐 I can’t thank you enough for requesting this song! It’s absolutely beautiful and Rob deserves all the love of the world.

Let me start by saying I listened it over 15 times and as I read the inspiration behind the lyrics, I learned Adele wrote for her former boyfriend, who was bi, so she always was daydreaming about him being the perfect man, but this was just her heart and mind longing for it… so I decided to make reader, a daydreamer. 🪐✨

Word count: Around 2,000

Summary: Y/N daydreams about Robert being the perfect man for her, she sees bits of their relationship or what she wants it to be in other’s people… She is daydreaming because there’s no way she could have that to herself. Or so she thought.

Song: Daydreamer

Daydreamer

Robert Fischer x reader

“Good morning Mrs. Fischer.”

“Morning Mr. Saunders.” You greeted him while waiting for the elevator after the Pilates class.

“Would you like me to have the driver for later?”

“Please, nine o’clock.” You gave him a smile, he was always so polite.

Stepping into the elevator mere seconds after, you greeted the young couple that was already on their way up. They were probably newlyweds judging by the secret glances and touches they had towards each other. Just like you and Robert had been all over each other back then, it seemed like a lifetime ago though.

Daydreamer

As they got out on floor ten, you kept going to the penthouse.

The loneliness of the spacious and familiar place welcomed you, pressing a button on the remote, the curtains started to open by themselves allowing the sunlight to illuminate every corner. Walking into the open kitchen you prepared your traditional post workout drink taking a moment to check the planner of the day.

You’d stop by the jewelry to check the new pieces you designed for the upcoming season, then you had lunch scheduled with a clothing line director to choose the ideal pieces for a magazine cover.

Rinsing the tumbler you headed to the family room and started the piano, Robert gifted it to you on your second anniversary after forgetting about the special date. Luckily you didn’t need someone to play it, it had several pieces already set up. The sound filled the emptiness of the property and you headed to your master bedroom to take a shower.

Picking a mint sleeveless dress matching with nude pumps you styled your hair in a French twist, you kept your accessories minimalist from your own brand. Taking your bag from the closet and your sunglasses you were ready to go out, but then you took a moment to make sure you had everything you needed in your bag, opening your wallet, memories assaulted you hard as you found the picture you snapped of your husband sitting by the beach during your honeymoon. You could only see his back since he wasn’t aware you shot that but the flashback of Robert contemplating the sunset made you want to go back in time… for a few days he had been so focused on your time together, kissing you, hands longing for your body, freckles all over his chest highlighted by the sun.

Sitting on the sea

Soaking up the sun

Now, you spent most of the day apart, working or at social events, trying to match your agendas seemed like the hardest thing in the world. Everything was pretty much part of your daily routine, you even learned a few things from Robert like taking your breakfast on the way, he was always running from point A to B, and lately so did you, just like now your driver was taking you across the city.

He is a real lover

Touching your wedding band, you couldn’t stop the memories from the day you and Robert got married, he had always been handsome, but that day to you he was something else. You’d choose him over and over.

A jaw dropper

Looks good when he walks

As you were wondering if he thought the same about you, your phone ringing pulled you out of your daydreaming.

“Mrs. Fischer this is Mr. Fischer assistant, just wanted to confirm tonight’s reservation at 7:30.”

“Hello darling, thank you for the reminder.” Greeting the employees of your shop you went straight to your office. “Can you make sure Mr. Fischer leaves his office on time?”

“I’ll try my best ma’am.”

Thanking Robert’s assistant, you started sketching a new bracelet in the corner of your napkin.

“Y/N, I’ve Vogue on the phone, they’re making an article about your jewelry line and want to have an interview.” Your PR poked her head from the door.

“Oh! Sounds like it’s going to be a long phone call.”

She nodded. “Line two.” She added before disappearing.

It was as a matter of fact, a long call. You even managed to end up with a few designs to make a special collection. By the time you finished, you had to hurry to make it on time for lunch, but on your way out you came across a man who was looking at the engagement rings.

“Looking for something special?” You winked at the saleswoman, wanting to attend him by yourself.

“I’m going to propose and I want a design that’s unique.”

“All the pieces are, we only have one of each.” You assured him. “But we’ve exclusive designs made only on sketch if you want to take a look.”

“Her favorite color is yellow… perhaps we can get something?” His eyes sparked and it didn’t go unnoticed by you, your heart melting immediately by the love he was oozing.

“Definitely, your bride will be over the moon, Mr…?”

“Owen.” He extended his hand towards you.

“Lisa could you please show Mr. Owen our yellow diamonds collection?” You smiled at him, pleased with the interaction. “Hope to see you back for the wedding bands.”

Walking to your car you smiled, thinking of that time when Robert proposed. The only time when you’ve seen him nervous, lost for words. He had asked you to see your upcoming collection, picked a ring under an anonymous name and asked it to be shipped to a property you didn’t know he had back then so you wouldn’t find out. Despite his name and his family’s business, he made it very simple; laying in bed together he asked you to marry him.

He would be hard to chase

But good to catch

And it had been one of the happiest days of your life. Three years of loving him with everything you got.

You just wished he could be like that again, he had been working so late the last few months you could hardly wait for him awake. He seemed to be busier.

And he could change the world

With his hands behind his back, oh

***

Waving the designer goodbye after a successful meeting, you took a moment to greet the owner of the place, a Robert’s friend from long ago.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N!” He motioned you to follow him to one of the private areas of the restaurant. “How’s Robert?”

“Good thank you, he sends you his bests wishes for the new restaurant in Chicago.”

“I hope to see you both in the big opening.”

You nodded, of course you’d be there. “How’s Flor?”

“Planning our upcoming trip, she likes to call it a second honeymoon.”

“Oh, I’ll need to get a coffee date with her to get the tips and convince Robert to go on a trip.” You joked.

“As a matter of fact, I’ve been working on a new special dessert for this place in her honor… would mind telling me your honest opinion?”

Your heart did a weird thing inside your chest as Alfred went to get the desserts, he was the best chef you knew around, but the fact that a man with a well established restaurants took the time to prepare a special dessert in honor of his wife made you swoon. They’ve been through all kinds of ups and downs and you knew they were one of the best examples that love conquered all.

After trying all, you couldn’t take one more bite. “Why can’t you mix them all?”

“I was hoping you’d help me.” He ran his hand through his prominent beard.

“Look, I’d use a coin to choose, or make people who come vote for one secretly and then… even better, make Flor choose one!” You offered with a smile.

“That’s actually a good idea. Thank you.”

Leaving him to think about it, you then started moving to the nail salon. It was kind of empty compared to other times so a girl quickly asked you about what design you wanted for your nails. As you watched several options, a woman sitting next to you was chatting about her marriage, it wasn’t your intention to listen but she wasn’t exactly whispering.

“So Gorge came home one day and said he was naming his associate VP to cut off on working hours, leaving some departments and decisions to other people, since then we get to have dinner together every single day.” She explained with enthusiasm. “We’re spending the weekend at the country house and my daughters want to come…”

“This is the color you always choose.” Pointed the girl who always did your nails.

“Do you think I should change Anne?” You asked unsure.

“Do you’ve something special coming up?”

You shook your head.

“Red.” Told you the chatty woman.

You looked at her confused. “Excuse me?”

“Men love red nails.” She repeated. The other manicurist nodded. “I’m Sharon.”

“I never used red before, probably once or twice.” You stammered.

“You’re young and beautiful, get the red tone.” She encouraged again.

It was inevitable to blush. “Thanks, I hope you’ve a fabulous time at the country house.”

Unsure if you could regret it, you nodded towards the red. Wondering if Rob would like it, damn would he even notice it? You decided to get a blowout last minute, it added volume to your usual tight ponytail, giving you a bouncy and glossy hairstyle.

Looking at the clock you still had plenty of time, so you asked your driver to stop at a boutique that was on your way to the restaurant. The assistant did a wonderful job finding a beautiful and elegant piece in white, you said yes without even trying it first so you asked her to remove the tags to wear it immediately. Shopping time was shorter than the drive, you still had time until your reservation but after giving your last name you were immediately guided to the table that was usually reserved for your husband.

Taking a sip of water you looked around, noticing a couple a few tables from yours, with a slice of cake and a single candle, a present next to the girl and the boy couldn’t stop the grin from his face. That was love definitely.

When was the last time Rob looked at you that way? When was his last compliment?

Daydreamer

With eyes that make you melt

He lends his coat for shelter

Plus he's there for you

Turning to the opposite side of them, you found a man playing the saxophone, the soft music making you smile, making you remember the first dance you shared with your husband. That was the last time you danced, a little bit over three years ago.

A waiter approached to ask if you’d like to order something, but you decline politely. Robert should be here any minute now.

By 8:15 the waiter appeared again, offering an entrée. Still Robert was nowhere to be seen so you accepted it in an attempt to distract yourself with some food and the glass of Chardonnay you ordered. But the little voice inside your head can’t stop asking if he would remember or show up.

You’re fighting the disappointment as your glass is almost empty now, so after paying for the bill you decided to head back home. All your efforts went to the trash can because Robert couldn’t take the time to have dinner with his wife, you know he works so hard, always ahead of the market and the competition, but one diner wouldn’t make him lose a millionaire business. Truth is he had been growing distant and cold towards you lately.

There's no way I

Could describe him

What I've said is

Just what I'm hoping for

Standing up you fight hard against the tears threatening to come out.

“I’m sorry for being late.” His hand wrapped on your elbow.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m going home.” You couldn’t even dare to look him in the eyes.

“But-” he started to say but cut himself as you shook your head.

Thanking the staff, you headed out quietly, knowing he was following your steps, his bodyguard not afar.

“Thought you wanted to have dinner.” He mumbled waiting for the valet parking.

“Over an hour ago, yes.”

“Y/N.”

Shivering you looked away, not noticing he took off the jacket of his suit until he wrapped it around your shoulders.

“I’m not discussing a private matter in a public place Robert.”

His eyes studied your features, noticing the new hairstyle but deciding to remain quiet. Instead, he instructed your driver to head home by himself while he waited for his vehicle.

He knew you wouldn’t say a word on the drive home when his driver and bodyguard were in the car. But subtly he would shot you a side glance from time to time. Mentally kicking himself for taking longer than he expected.

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting at the restaurant.” He apologized once in the privacy of your place.

“The message was clear, don’t worry. I know you got caught up with work.” You explained his now tradicional excuse. God those damn shoes were killing you now.

“I know what you’re thinking, Y/N… if you only let me explain.”

Throwing him a knowing look, you walked over the closet to leave your shoes and start undressing.

Leaning on the doorframe, Robert looked down, deciding to share what made him late.

“Today I had my last therapy session.” He could feel your eyes on him, exhaling all the air he was holding he looked up, in your direction. “When you suggested it a while back I wasn’t sure it was what I needed, but after we got married I knew I didn’t want to take out my frustrations on you, so I started afterwork once a week a year ago.”

He looked down again while you gave him the opportunity to explain.

“I’ve talked a lot about you with my therapist, he wants to have a few sessions with the two of us whenever you can… you were right, it helped me a lot.”

“Why did you keep this from me?” You asked shocked after siting on the bench in the middle of the huge walk in closet. “I’m your wife.”

“I had a lot of shit to work on first, I wanted to do it for you and for me.” He dragged his feet to sit next to you.

“Oh, Rob!” You couldn’t stop the tears now. “I’m sorry for assuming you didn’t care.” You sobbed wrapping your arms around his neck.

Slowly his hands came to rest your back. How long had he been longing for an honest embrace like this?

“I’m sorry for not showing a lot of interest, I still need to work on that.” He whispered against your hair.

Feeling his tears on your shoulder, you finally pulled back after several minutes locked in each other’s arms. Holding his face between your hands you looked at this man with the sad eyes starting to show a glimpse of happiness.

“I love you Robert Fischer with everything I have, and I’m coming to therapy with you.” You pulled him in for a kiss.

And he answered with the same devotion. Feeling like a heavy weight was lifted from his shoulders.

Your stomach growling made him chuckle against your lips.

“You owe me dinner.”

“My therapist suggested a cooking lesson but I’m not so sure about that, but we can order from the restaurant downstairs.”

“You don’t want to go over there?”

He shook his head. “Here in bed, you and me… I need to step out of my comfort zone.”

“Does it means we can take a two weeks holiday?”

Robert groaned. “Don’t push me, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes but kissed him anyways. “Fine… let’s start with a weekend getaway.”

You hugged him once more and noticed something else, something that didn’t happen on a daily basis.

“I love to see you smiling.” That took him by surprise and an adorable blush joined the previous smile. “Can I see another one?”

In a fluid and unexpected move, Robert made you straddle him showing a third new feature; the fire in his eyes.

“That’s one of the many changes you can expect from now on.” He explained mere inches from your face as his hands ran up and down your back. “Loved the new look by the way.”

You gasped and held onto his neck as he started walking towards the bed with you hooked around his waist.

“Robert Fischer who’s this man? And I don’t ever want him to go away.” You bit your lower lip as his jaw clenched by the effort of carrying you.

“Oh you’re about to find out.” He winked playfully as another smile started to play around his lips.

You closed your eyes as he started kissing your neck, thinking how it wasn’t a total surprise to see all these new attitudes, the enormous change, because deep down you fell in love with this man knowing exactly what he was capable of.

And he was able finally to give everyone the best version of himself because he had been working on the issues that had kept him in the dark for so long.

Looking at the woman underneath him, Robert knew he couldn’t thank you enough for helping him change his life around, for insisting so many times of going to an specialist to ask for help when you’re carrying burdens that doesn’t belong to you, for opening his eyes to the potential he had been missing, for showing him to ask for help when you feel like you’ve had enough. But most importantly, for showing that you genuinely cared about him.

From now on, you wouldn’t have to daydream about others people showing love and affection because it would be your reality from now on.

***

Thank you sm for reading! I’ve been wanting to write something like this for a long long time ✨🥰♥️

More Robert Fischer content here

Tag list: @ttzamara @gretelshelby @lyarr24 @camilahpg03 @acillianproblem @chishiyasan @allyly @fastfan @thomashelbyswife @lespendy @onlydeadcells @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @cloudofdisney @heidimoreton @esposadomd @stevie75 @raincoffeeandfandoms @elenavampire21 @thenattitude @adaydreamaway08 @darleneslane @sloanexx @shaddixlife @forbidden-forest-witch @forgottenpeakywriter @shelbydelrey @ange-thoughts @babaohhhriley @kmc1989 @allie131313 @everythingelseisextra @nela-cutie

[cguy3033]

Edit: BTW, the Dates are from September 16-22 Hello Huntmira Fans!(at least those who still remain)

So, like last year, I thought it would be an atleast somewhat good idea to bring back huntmira week!

Disclaimer: any of the following themes can be done even after the week is over

(BTW, I did this last year on Twitter and Insta, but I didn’t have Tumbler).

The themes in question are:

Day 1: Western or 1920s Themed

Day 2: Anime/TV Show/Video game Couple cosplay(choose whichever fandom you want)

Day 3: Romantic Honeymoon (Future)/ Future Grom Dance

Day 4: My Hero (either Hunter or Emira saving the other form either kidnapping, an attack…basically a Luz falling for Amity moment)

Day 5: Flyer Derby Themed (Hunter playing and Emira being a fan/cheerleader for him)

Day 6: A Princess and Her Guard

Day 7: Whatever you want

Quick Note: please show some respect for those who decide to participate in the week. If you don’t like the ship, just move along and ignore it.

Small short stories of the ship are also allowed.

If you wish to participate, please let me know by using the huntmira hashtag below.

[happiclaps]

Unique Gifts for Newly Married Couples: Personalized Ideas to Make Them Smile

iFnding the perfect gifts for newly married couples can sometimes be a challenge, especially when you want to give something memorable and meaningful. Personalized gifts offer a fantastic way to stand out, adding a thoughtful touch that’s sure to make the couple smile. Whether it’s for a wedding, housewarming, or just a congratulatory present, these personalized gifts can create cherished memories for years to come. In this blog, we’ll explore some unique gift ideas for newly married couples that combine creativity with a personal touch.

1. Customized Name Plaques

A personalized name plaque featuring the couple's last name or first names is a thoughtful and decorative gift. This unique gift for newly married couples can be placed in their new home as a symbol of their unity. You can opt for designs that reflect their personality, such as a rustic wooden look or a sleek modern finish. Whether it's for their front door, living room, or bedroom, a custom name plaque is a beautiful keepsake that they can cherish forever.

2. Personalized Couple’s Portrait

Immortalize the couple’s big day by gifting them a custom portrait. These unique portraits can be painted, sketched, or digitally created, reflecting either their wedding photo or a cute cartoon version of them. This creative approach makes for an unforgettable newly married couple gift, perfect for showcasing in their home. Adding their wedding date or a meaningful quote will make it even more special.

3. Customized Wine or Whiskey Set

For couples who love to share a glass of wine or whiskey, a personalized set can be a thoughtful and sophisticated gift. This could include engraved wine glasses, whiskey tumblers, or even a custom bottle of their favorite drink with their names and wedding date. A unique gift for newly married couples like this combines elegance with personal sentiment, making it an ideal gift for their quiet moments together.

4. Engraved Photo Frames

A personalized photo frame engraved with the couple’s names or their wedding date is a timeless gift. They can fill the frame with their favorite moments from their wedding day or honeymoon. This simple yet sentimental gift stands out as a thoughtful option among gifts for newly married couples, giving them a beautiful way to display cherished memories.

5. Personalized Recipe Book

If the couple enjoys cooking together, a personalized recipe book could be a meaningful and practical gift. You can fill it with family recipes, new meal ideas for them to try, or leave pages blank for them to add their favorite dishes as they go. A custom recipe book offers a fun and interactive way to connect as a couple, making it a unique gift for newly married couples who love spending time in the kitchen.

6. His and Hers Matching Robes

Comfort and luxury meet with personalized matching robes. Embroidering their names or initials on plush, high-quality bathrobes is a cute and cozy gift idea. This type of gift is perfect for the couple’s first morning together or lazy weekend days at home. It’s a simple yet unique gift for newly married couples that they’ll surely appreciate every time they slip into the soft robes.

7. Customized Travel Map

For adventurous couples, a personalized travel map that marks the places they’ve been or where they plan to go can be an exciting and unique gift idea. You can customize the map with their names and wedding date, adding pins or stickers for each new destination they visit. This thoughtful gift encourages future adventures and serves as a beautiful reminder of their journey together.

8. Personalized Memory Box

A custom memory box is a creative and sentimental way for newlyweds to store mementos from their wedding, honeymoon, and other special occasions. Engrave their names or a heartfelt message on the box to make it even more special. This unique gift allows them to keep treasured items safe and provides a beautiful place for memories to grow over the years.

9. Custom Star Map

A custom star map depicting the night sky on their wedding day is a beautiful and cosmic gift idea. This unique artwork can include the date, time, and location of the couple's special day, showing exactly how the stars aligned for their wedding. It’s a beautiful way to remember that magical moment and makes a thoughtful newly married couple gift that they’ll love displaying in their home.

10. Personalized Couple's Puzzle

For the playful couple, a personalized jigsaw puzzle featuring a photo of them is a fun and interactive gift. Whether they choose to complete it and frame it or leave it as a fun activity for a cozy night in, this unique and thoughtful gift adds an element of joy to their married life.

Conclusion

When it comes to choosing gifts for newly married couples, personalization can make all the difference. These unique gift ideas add a personal touch that shows thoughtfulness and care, helping the couple cherish the moments they’ve shared and look forward to their future together. From engraved photo frames to custom travel maps, each of these unique gifts for newly married couples offers a blend of sentimentality and creativity, guaranteed to bring a smile to their faces.

[terrinakamura]

It’s so cold here🥶! Spring is MIA. How is it where you live? We just came back from 2 days at our Airbnb, The Horsfall House🏡. We enjoyed seeing the snow fall❄️, but we were really glad it didn’t stick! The past year lots of articles have criticized Airbnb📰 & I understand why. The honeymoon is long over for both the owners of properties as well as the guests who stay in them🥰. Airbnbs used to be a cheaper alternative 💵 & are still a great deal for large groups, but they can also be a pain in the neck🥲. Some hosts have long lists of tasks (strip beds 🛏️, put laundry in the washing machine, etc.) 🧼. Um. No, thanks. When you leave a hotel, the only thing you need to do is close the door. Sadly, we’ve had guests break or take things💔. We’ve lost binoculars, a large bowl, a Pendleton blanket, a collectible vintage Rainier beer bottle & untold numbers of wine glasses🍷 and tumblers have gone missing. Some items are stolen & others probably accidentally broke. A few of our guests over the past 9 years have confessed, but they’re outliers! Also painful for both guests & hosts is the rising cleaning fees. Thanks to Covid😷, it takes much longer to clean a house🏠. Hosts must observe cleaning protocols that add time & require more supplies — all add up. Our house is a unique🏡100+ year old homestead with charming & eccentric features. There is a secret room, decorated by one of our favorite friends, @Wendyadams2724087. It's fun when guests discover it. It’s place to digital detox from SM for a couple of days🤳. When I’m there, I don’t even think about IG, Twitter & others until we’re on the freeway coming home🚘. Do you use social media every day📲? Besides IG, where do you regularly spend time🐦? . . BOOKNOTES: Heartfelt gratitude to IRL friends, @bridge_raftery @alessandrorea @barbiesartgallery PHOTOS: me in @xstitch2018's #cowl #randle #airbnbsuperhost #whitepass #giffordpinchot #mtsthelens #digitaldetox #snowfall #mtrainier . . . (at The Horsfall House) https://www.instagram.com/p/CpXC-GDuhyy/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[rcubens]

Reuben wasn’t sure where his propensity for Whiskey had come from. As a kid, his dad certainly drank but it wasn’t a poignant part of any of his memories of the man. Except for one Fourth of July weekend when he fell off the dock into the lake and took his mom with him after a few too many mint juleps and hours in the sun. They were certainly in love, caught up in their own laughter and all handsy like a couple of kids who never grew out of the honeymoon phase. He had lost a good thing before Woodrow and now had lost again.

The clunking of the crystal startled him as the tumblers stopped right in front of him. But, he wouldn’t say no to whatever ritzy whiskey Rich kept around. He inhales deeply, nose deep in the glass. Aged notes of orange and figs mixing with the smoke of aged oak. The glass is brought to his lips and he takes a sip and attempts to savour the drink. The experience is ruined by Eliza’s comment.

He pauses— glass in mid air, burn settling across his palette. The same way she can’t get pissed at him, he can’t get pissed at her for ruining his tasting. Despite being a mere four years younger than him, she still felt like a baby. Being the youngest— she was one of the only wards with photos of the entirety of her childhood adorning the walls. He felt bad hurting her, like he did any of the wards younger than him. Natalia occasionally was roped into that group too.

He swallows hard, “yeahhh,” dragging out those last syllables pensively. “But it was still wrong, it wasn’t fair to the rest of you to tarnish your memories on such a hard day.” He continues, dropping his glass back down to the table. “You can be pissed— everyone else is, I can take it,” He couldn’t. But, he was certainly trying.

where: main kitchen

when: late night

with: @rcubens

as a kid, eliza was known for being a perfectly angelical little kid - who just so happened to throw the worst tantrums known to man. she would scream and cry and one famous time even hold her breath until passed out. these were very rare moments, and they would be gone as soon as they started, a storm in a teacup, a rare insight into the girl who almost looked like a doll the rest of time. though eliza didn’t scream anymore, her temper still bubbled underneath the calm surface, ready to erupt at any moment. and god, she was getting so tired. “here” she says carelessly, putting two cup in front of reuben and pouring one two many fingers of whiskey into them. she didn’t say anything else for a couple of seconds, lifting her glass and taking a long sip, not really feeling the taste as much as the burn. “you were such an asshole today.” however, surprisingly even to herself, eliza's voice didn't come out tinged with anger. it broke pathetically in the middle, soft and low. "but you were right. and i can't even get fucking pissed at you, because you were right."

[arcadiavacation]

Srilanka Honeymoon Package-50% Off 

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[cafedanslanuit]

chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter

✖   —   chapter summary: Now that Zeke has explained what truly happened with Yelena, all your troubles have finally ended. Except that now you need to start avoiding Porco. However, things change once you overhear a conversation in the woman's bathroom.

✖   —   pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader

✖   —   chapter tags/warnings: college au, descriptions of panic attacks, lots of self-doubt, gaslighting, hurt/comfort, fluff, referenced cheating. 

✖   —   a/n: i have posted the playlist that goes with this series! click here to check this post <3

chapter three: me and my husband

Porco looked at his cellphone, an ill sensation filling up his stomach as he read over and over your last messages. For the past few days, he had been trying to reach out to you but he had been rejected every time.

He knew something wrong was going on the moment you said you couldn’t make it to his lacrosse game. Ever since you became friends, you hadn’t missed a single game. He had once seen you finishing an essay on your phone and sending it while you were sitting on the bleachers, excited for the game to begin. He had seen you falling asleep on his shoulder during a party after a game, too tired from studying for a test that you took earlier.

Porco sighed. He wished he could find any other reason to explain your behaviour but the only one that came to his mind was his late night confession to you. He shouldn’t have told you he loved you. Now you were avoiding him and his feelings and he was scared he had lost your friendship completely.

He put the phone on his back pocket and grabbed his keys, heading to the parking lot. After getting into his car, he turned on the radio and drove out of the campus, entering the main highway of the city. He wasn’t sure where he was heading to, but all he knew is that he wanted to stop thinking about you, the moment he thought you had shared and the dry messages that followed.

He had really fucked it up.

…

 Sitting on your faculty’s corridor floor, you looked over at the texts Porco had been sending you the past week. It physically pained you to be so curt with someone that meant so much to you. Porco had always been there for you, even in the times you had told him you really didn’t need him. He cared when you got sick, when you were sad and also when you wanted company to crash a party on campus. You two had been inseparable since the day you met and he was already acquaintances with Annie and Armin due to all the time he had spent at your place.

This was the right thing to do, you told yourself one more time, closing your Instagram. You were taking the right decision. Porco had fallen in love with you and then had tried to make you think your boyfriend had cheated on you. If Zeke hadn’t pointed that out for you, you probably wouldn’t have noticed until it was too late. Truly, you were lucky Zeke had been understanding about the whole situation and had forgiven you for not trusting in him.

Porco wasn’t a bad person. You knew in your heart he wasn’t. But you had been wrong to trust he had your best interest in his mind.

That’s what didn’t make sense. Why had Porco, sweet and caring Porco had suddenly decided to put you against Zeke only just because he had caught feelings for you? The Porco you knew wouldn’t have done that. If he truly only wanted to drive you away from Zeke, he would have let you kiss him the night he spent with you. He would have taken the opportunity, right? So, why didn’t he?

Your head started hurting.

Your thumb ghosted over Porco’s contact on your phone, wondering whether to call him or not. You missed him dearly and knew that if you asked him to be honest, he would. There were countless moments in the past where he had been honest with you, from the time he confessed to accidentally stepping on your foundation powder and the time he opened up about his father’s death.

He’ll say anything to make you doubt your relationship with me.

Zeke’s voice resonated in your ears and you bit your tongue. He was right. You needed to remember Porco was trying to put you against your boyfriend.

Before you could think of a counterargument, you shot a quick text to Zeke. Yes. A day with your boyfriend would help you keep your mind busy.

“wanna hang out later? <3”

You watched intently, a small smile on your face as the three dots twinkled on your screen. Zeke’s answer came a few seconds later.

“Can’t. Exam tomorrow :(“

He then sent you a picture of a couple of books over a table that you recognized as the university’s library. He also had the tumbler you had given him a couple of months ago, filled with straight black coffee if you had to take a guess.

“:(( okaaaay, good luck on your exam, love u!”

“<3”

You put your phone away and sighed. You missed Zeke too. The few days after you had confronted him about the time you thought you saw Yelena and him kissing, he had showered you with love. You had spent the weekend at his place wearing nothing but an old t-shirt of his and making love several times a day. You snuggled to him on the couch as he watched an old documentary and playfully took the cigar from his lips and took a puff yourself. ‘Ladies like you shouldn’t smoke,’ he had said playfully as he took it back from your lips and then pressed a kiss on your temple.

Nevertheless, the short honeymoon phase after you made up had come to an end. You knew it was going to happen, but now your body and heart were craving more of him and his classes were taking all his time. If it wasn’t an exam it was a group project or a study session and even if you knew seniors had it way harder than you, you missed him. Missed his beard scratching your neck, his strong cologne and his deep chuckle whenever you managed to make him smile.

Maybe you could walk around the mall. You still had some birthday money and you could treat yourself a little. Maybe a new body cream or a pair of cute underwear from Victoria Secret to surprise your boyfriend after he was done with his classes. Yes, a shopping trip was exactly what you needed to stop thinking so much. Smiling, you walked to the bathroom of your faculty, just a quick detour to freshen up before you got into your car. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror and took out your lipstick, fixing it carefully.

“I fucking hate her.”

You turned around as you saw three girls entering the bathroom. They stood by your side, none of them seeming to notice your presence. One of them fixing her hair, another was looking down at her phone, eyebrows knitted together and mumbling more and more curses and the last one just leaned against the bathroom stalls, arms crossed against her chest as she watched the other two.

“We did tell you she wasn’t meant to be trusted,” she reminded the girl with the phone. When she raised her head, you recognized her as Pieck, one of Porco’s close friends, who you had seen around at a lot of parties and on many of his Instagram photos.

“How is that helping me?” Pieck asked icily.

“I’m just saying, Yelena is shady. Telling you all that crap about only being able to open up with you— and for what? For her to post photo after photo of her fuckboy?” the girl in front of the mirror said. “Like, nobody needs to know you’re getting it at the library, why post about it? Literally, nobody cares.”

“She’s not worth it,” the other girl interjected. 

“She really isn’t, babe. And Zeke isn’t even that hot,” her friend continued with a mocking laugh. “The one that looks like a clown is her, not you. Just let it go.”

“He truly is a bad case of the monkey face,” Pieck agreed with a snort. “Men like that are what keep me a lesbian.”

“Hi Pieck,” you greeted her. For the first time, Pieck looked your way and widened her eyes, recognizing you in an instant.

“Hey,” she said in an apologetic voice. “I— I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.”

You faked a chuckle. “It’s okay. I just wanted to say you shouldn’t worry about them, Yelena is—”

“Yeah, yeah, we both shouldn’t worry. You’re probably trying to move on and ignore them too,” Pieck sighed and then pursed her lips in discomfort. “But I know you were Zeke’s girlfriend for a while, it’s normal you don’t want to hear about who he’s fucking now—”

“Zeke and I are still together,” you interrupted her.

Pieck’s face fell at your words. She looked at her friends, who were also looking at each other with an indecipherable expression. Your furrowed your eyebrows, confused as to why they were sharing those glances. Why would they think you weren’t with Zeke? Sure, you hadn’t posted photos with him lately but that didn’t mean you weren’t together anymore.

“I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” Pieck said softly to her friends. They nodded and said they would be by the cafeteria before leaving. Once they went away, Pieck closed the bathroom door and walked to you again.

“Why— why would you think we’re not together?” you insisted, your voice trembling more than you would have wanted.

“Yelena and Zeke are fucking,” she sentenced in a soft voice. You shook your head.

“I know that’s what it looks like but Yelena likes women,” you said. “You— I mean you guys were dating or something, right? You know she’s a lesbian, she’s just pretending to have something with Zeke so her parents back off for a while.”

Pieck’s silence was deafening.

“Right?” you pushed. “It’s cool because she’s a lesbian and—”

“Yelena is bisexual.”

You paused, blinking as you tried to understand. After a few seconds, you shook your head.

“She’s not.”

“The reason we’re not dating anymore is because I saw her fucking Zeke at a party,” she explained.

“No,” you said, and shook your head once more. “No, because if it happened at a party then someone would have seen them. Someone would have noticed, there would have been rumours, I would have  known . Pieck, someone would have told me, Reiner, Marcel, Porco—”

“They weren’t there. Almost everyone was a senior.”

“Then you! You would have told me,” you cried. “You’re telling me you saw my boyfriend fucking someone else and didn’t tell me!? Pieck—!”

“I thought you weren’t together anymore!” she defended herself. “What was I supposed to think when every single one of his friends at that shitty apartment knew he was fucking her in the bedroom and they all acted like it was a normal thing to do? I see all these photos of both of them and…” she continued, shaking her phone. “Of course I think he’s not with you anymore! Yelena is uploading pictures as she rests her legs on his lap, about their movie dates at his place and you want me to think she has a girlfriend!?”

Tears started falling from your eyes as she spoke. You sniffled, trying to compose yourself but you could feel every muscle of your body shaking.

“Does Porco know?” you asked in a whisper.

“Porco?”

“I know you two are best friends since high school. You— you had to tell him. If this was real, if this happened, you had to tell Porco,” you reasoned. “So tell me, Pieck, does Porco know?” you insisted, raising your voice, hating the way it cracked at the end.

Pieck shook her head. “I told him Yelena cheated on me, didn’t tell him with who.”

“Why?”

“Because he told me not to date Yelena, said she wasn’t a good person. I didn’t want to prove Porco right, you know him,” Pieck said with a small shrug.

You nodded idly, your eyes lost. No. It didn’t make sense, it didn’t— even if it did. It did make sense but it  couldn’t make sense. Because if Pieck was right, if Yelena and Zeke were—

No.

“Give me a date,” you whispered.

“What?”

“When was this?”

“I don’t— Two weeks ago?”

“I need to know the exact date, Pieck.”

“Girl, I don’t remember exactly, I—”

“Give me a date, Pieck!” you sobbed, raising your voice. She sighed and nodded, taking out her phone.

You watched as Pieck went through her messages with Yelena, scrolling up as she tried to remember the date. Your breath was hitching, inhaling more than you were exhaling but you didn’t care. You wanted to know when it was. Pieck was going to tell you it happened on a date where he was with you. She was going to say it happened one of the nights you and Zeke stayed the weekend at his place and then you would know she’s lying. Yes, that was going to happen. She would tumble over her own lie and this nightmare would be over.

“March 31st,” Pieck murmured. “I kept texting her, asking where she was before I went to look for her,” she reminisced, before showing you her phone.

.

.

                                                            00:36

. 

                                                                                           lena where are u

                                                                                                            ?????

                                          why are my friends saying you’re with zeke rn

                                                                                         yelena answer me

                                                                                    fuck u i’m going there

                                                            01:19

 .

                                                FUCK YOU YELENA YOURE THE WORST

                                                                  PIECE OF SHIT IVE EVER MET

                                                                            REALLY???? ZEKE?????

                                                                           HOPE YOU GET HERPES

                                                                                 I FUCKING HATE YOU

babe, i’m sorry

can we talk?

.

. 

A bitter taste crept inside your mouth as you took out your phone and went through yours and Zeke’s messages, looking desperately for the date. It was the weekend you spent together. It had to be. The memories of Zeke’s kitchen calendar that said April were lying to you. It had to be March. Or maybe he changed the calendar because he was with you on March 31st.

You scrolled up until March and went to read the messages exchanged on that day.

.

.

                                                            07:23

.

Good morning! I know it’s really early

But I want to see you today <3

Meet me at the tennis court?

                                                                                  sure, i’ll take an uber :)

.

.

Silent sobs escaped your mouth as your phone started shaking in your trembling hands. Pieck whispered apologies and you wanted nothing more than to tell her to shut up, that it wasn’t her fault, that she wasn’t the one that swore she wanted to marry you and then went to fuck someone else at a party, not caring if he was seen or not.

But it wasn’t true. Zeke said it was just a ruse, that Yelena just wanted to hide her queerness, that they were just good friends. He said so. Pieck had to be lying, she had to be. She was just messing with you, lying to see how much you could believe her. Because Zeke wouldn’t do that, you were the one he trusted, you were the one he was going to marry, you—

Pieck was still holding her phone in front of you.

With the very same date.

And Yelena admitting her crime.

But it couldn't be right. There had to be a mistake because Zeke loved you. He loved you and he had told you about his family, he had taken you to meet his grandparents, he promised he hadn’t kissed Yelena that night, he—

Had he not kissed her?

Was it only a movie night?

…

No, it hadn’t.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Pieck’s voice sounded far, your lips parted as you tried to gasp for air. You lifted your head and saw her lips moving but you couldn’t hear any sound but your heart beating out of your chest. Tingles started creeping on your fingers and without you being able to do anything to prevent it, you dropped your phone on the bathroom floor.

Why didn’t it make a sound?

Why were your fingers numb?

You lifted your head and Pieck was gone. Dismissing her sudden disappearance, you crouched down and picked your phone. You winced at the huge crack on your screen and slid your finger several times over it until you could press on Zeke’s contact and call him.

As his phone rang, you pressed your back on the wall, slowly sinking until you were sitting on the floor.

“Baby, I told you I was studying for this test, I can’t—”

“I know about you and Yelena,” you said in a broken voice. You heard him let out an annoyed sigh on the other line.

“Didn’t we talk about this already? I told you she’s not—”

“I know about the party. The day we played baseball and— that same night you went to a party and fucked her,” you sobbed. You wiped the tears on your face with the back of your hand. “Zeke, tell me it’s a lie, tell me you didn’t do this, please,  please  tell me you didn’t really fuck Yelena,” you begged. “Please.”

“You know what? Get some help. Like, psychological help. This isn’t normal.”

The silence after Zeke hung up choked you. Your chest rose up and down as you sobbed uncontrollably. Your brain was screaming. Loudly. ‘Make it stop,’ you told yourself. ‘Get it together. Make it stop.’

Make it stop.

                         Make it stop.

                                                 Make it stop.

                                                                         Make it stop.

                                                                                                 Make it stop.

 It’s a lie.

                                                                                                  Make it stop.

He lied to you.

                                                                                                              Stop.

He fucked her.

                                                                                                 Please, stop.

He lied.

                                                                                              I can’t breathe.

.

.

                                             Inhale.

                                                                            Exhale.

                                            Inhale.

                                                                            Exhale.

                                            Inhale.

                                                            Inhale. 

                                                            Inhale. 

                                                            Inhale.

.

.

…

When you woke up, Porco was there.

Your head felt heavy as you tried to sit up, rubbing your eyes. A quick look around let you know you were in your apartment but you weren’t sure as to  how , or why your friend was there, his phone on his lap and his eyes looking at you filled with worry.

He whispered your name as if his voice could hurt you. “How are you feeling?”

“What are you doing here?” you asked groggily. You noticed your throat was hurting as well. “What hour is it?” you mumbled as you palmed your jean pockets looking for your phone. You found it hidden between two pillows and pressed the power button, trying to see if you had any unread messages.

None.

“Pieck called me,” Porco explained. “And it’s eight and a half.”

Pieck. Pieck with her friends in the bathroom, Pieck with the text messages. Everything came back to you in a second and you couldn’t help but wince at the way your head hurt.

“How are you feeling?” he insisted. You took a deep breath. The small movement made you realize how much the muscles of your back were hurting along with your arms. You licked your lips, hating how dry they felt against your tongue.

“I broke my phone.”

Porco furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“I— I dropped it. There’s a crack on the screen.”

He nodded slowly and looked down at his shoes, his forearms resting on his knees. You could almost listen to his loud thoughts, one coming after another inside his head. Porco sighed and turned his head back to you.

“Want me to get it fixed? Marcel knows a guy, I’m sure he can get it done by tomorrow.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s working just fine,” you said, passing your thumb over the crack. “No need to change it.”

Porco watched your eyes get lost on the dark screen and tightened his lips. He had the urge to throw your phone out of your window, make you understand you had to leave it, that it wasn’t good for you, that you didn’t need it, that you didn’t need  him —

Instead, he nodded.

“What happened?” you asked.

Porco paused, deliberating his words before speaking. “Pieck called and told me what you guys talked about and that… you didn’t take it well. She said you were crying and— that you had a panic attack, so she left the bathroom to look for help. She found Armin and he was the one that helped you regain your breath. Once you settle down, he called Annie to tell her what happened and she picked you up. When I got here you were already asleep on the couch, Annie said it was okay if I waited here.”

“I… don’t remember much,” you confessed with a grimace. “I don’t remember Armin helping me out. I— I do remember what Pieck and I talked about, though. Wish I could forget it instead,” you snorted. 

“Wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head.  Ouch . Why did every muscle of your body hurt so much?

“Wanna watch some shitty reality TV?” he offered. He didn’t miss the way a small smile appeared on your face.

In a matter of minutes, Porco had gone into your room and brought your laptop, and started looking for the show on Netflix. He put your laptop on his thighs and let you crawl by his side, your head resting against his shoulder.

“Wish they had Ink Master,” you sighed, as the intro of Netflix’s newest reality show played on your screen.

“We both know Netflix doesn’t have good shows.”

You snorted. “Black Mirror is good.”

“And yet we’re watching The Circle,” Porco teased you.

“Weren’t you the one that binged Season 1 on one night and then asked me to do the same so you could rant?” you reminded him with a playful tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied nonchalantly, making you chuckle.

What followed next was a comfortable silence. One episode went by and Porco made no attempts to stop it from automatically playing the second episode. You snuggled closer, the fabric of his green jacket feeling nice against your cheek. How long had it been since you felt so much peace with someone else by your side?

In any other situation, you would be commenting on it, pressing pause just to bitch and rant about the contestants or make quick runs to the kitchen. But Porco was sitting still, his eyes fixed on the screen and his arms crossed in front of his chest. He was trying to comfort you the best way he could, knowing any words would fail, he aimed to create a safe space for you and not force you to behave normally when you both knew better than to completely ignore what had happened earlier.

Right. Zeke.

You felt your eyes watering and bit the inside of your cheek to prevent them from falling down. Focusing on your breath, you inhaled and exhaled rhythmically until the knot in your throat seemed to loosen up. Your feelings towards Zeke were confusing, a part of you wanting to run, look for him and demand an explanation. Another part of you wanted to face with, punch his stupid little face until you got tired and leave him on the floor. And another, maybe a bigger part of you wanted him to cradle you in his strong arms, kiss your temple and scratch your skin with his beard as he whispered sweet nothings to you.

You swallowed. Maybe Zeke was right. Maybe you did need psychological help.

Could you trust his words if he were to provide another explanation? Could you ever trust in him again? Most of all, could you trust yourself? Many voices had different opinions inside your head, yet they all agreed on something.

You were miserable.

“Every time I’m not with him, I’m anxious,” you mumbled, the words leaving your mouth before you thought them over. Porco moved his hand to pause the show, but you gestured to him not to. “And when he’s with me…” you continued, “I feel like I’m drowning.”

Your voice cracked at the end. Porco’s hand twitched, not sure what to do next. Should he hold you, put an arm around your shoulder to comfort you? Should he not move a muscle until you were done? Should he offer a word of comfort? He turned his head to you and noticed tears were silently streaming down your face.

“If Zeke was in front of me right now and told me Pieck lied her ass off, even after all the proof she showed me today… I would believe him. I would,” you sobbed. “And I hate myself so much for it. I’m so tired of this, I’m so tired of loving him, Pock.”

Porco’s hand cupped your head, his fingers gently caressing your hair. You snuggled closer to him, his perfume soothing the pain inside your heart and his gentle gesture comforting you. That was the magic Porco had. You knew he wasn’t always good with his words and most of the time he preferred to show rather than tell and boy, did he do a spectacular good job at showing you how much he cared.

He was there. Even after you had been ignoring him for over two weeks, he was here with his green jacket and his earthy-scented perfume ready to hold you if you needed him. And you did. You could never think of a moment where you wouldn’t want him to be there with you. 

You wiped your face with the back of your hand and reluctantly pulled away from his touch, turning on your seat so you were facing him. You paused your show and put a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Thank you,” you said, biting down your bottom lip. “For being here and waiting until I woke up. I— I’ve been such a bad friend to you,” you sighed. “I’m so sorry, I just—”

Porco shook his head. “No. I’m sorry for what I said the night I stayed here.”

“No, you don’t need to— I mean— I wasn’t mad about it,” you fumbled with your words, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t know,” Porco shrugged. “Felt like I made you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” you assured him. “Thank you for staying with me that night. I really didn’t want to be alone.”

“I just— Can I say something else? Promise this is the last time I talk about it.” You nodded. “I didn’t love you the first time I met you,” he blurted, shrugging. “I mean, it’s not like I saw you and caught feelings— first time I saw you you were drunk off your ass at Reiner’s party. I was your friend first. Still am, nothing will change that. And honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised if my feelings went away,” he chuckled. “Who knows. Might finally meet someone else and fall for them.”

“Yeah, maybe you’ll meet someone,” you agreed with a strained smile.

“Whatever happens, know that before anything else, I’m your friend,” Porco said, golden eyes setting on yours. “And that will never change. You’re stuck with me.”

“And you’re stuck with me.”

“See any other reason why I’m watching a shitty reality show on a Tuesday night?”

At this, you hit Porco with one of the pillows, square on his face. You couldn’t help but laugh at his stunned face.

“You’re  so  fucked,” he said, putting the laptop on the coffee table in front of him.

You took this as a sign to run, the ache in your muscles forgotten at the back of your head as you tried to dodge the pillows Porco was throwing at you. Your legs weren’t weak anymore, as you quickly jumped to avoid the furniture and picked up one of the pillows to throw it back at him. Your heart was no longer aching, but jumping as you cackled when Porco tripped and fell. Even if your eyes were watering again, this time was due to the excessive laughter. And yes, your breath was hitching but it was thanks to Porco chasing you around the living room.

You let yourself fall on the floor next to Porco, the coldness of the floor soothing your skin as he dramatically held his knee against his chest like an injured soccer player. You turned your head to him, smiling at his antics as he filled your heart with happiness once  more.

Maybe that had been his power all along.

[noahstayed]

Sorry if you've already answered these questions but I still want to ask them so...

1) Are you going to make another book after Earthshine?

(If the answer is yes; (and you don't have to answer this one,) Are you going to do a time skip or will you go the 'the condom broke'?)

2) Will Edward have a mate (If yes; will you create an OC or simply pluck a character from the twilight saga archives are revamp them?)

3) If you do make a version of Breaking Dawn, will it have the same premise (Ie. Wedding, Honeymoon, (I typed hUMANmoon and then corrected it, don't know why my fingers went there.) surprise pregnancy (or not? Because Carlisle is a DOCTOR) turning, then the Volturi going all "We must kill the child!"?)

4) With regards to question three, in the (honestly, and sadly, unlikely) ( completely forgot what word I was going to type, and It as too much trouble to type that so I'm just going to use another word that won't flow as well) situation (I'm so unhappy with this word, my stomach is turning something fierce, man.) that you DO go the standard "with the other book as a very, very, loose guideline) Would you go the route of OYH or would make an entirely new plot?

Also, if you do go with the same general outline, (which is unlikely since Irina isn't with Laurant in newmoon but with Charlie, so there's no bitter feelings and she won't immediately go to the kings before she's heard Carlisle's explanation.) How would you make that work?

5) I know you said that if you do make a fourth book you would just use the dhampire from OYH, Elisha, does that still reign true? Or are you planning to make a new character entirely?

6) If you do make a fourth, and go the OYH route, would you still make Elisha Emse's mate, like in OYH? Or will you go with Garette?

7) Also, since you have previously made an ff about Garette and Bella having a brother-sister type friendship would we see that and get to see Garette claim her as his sister and charlie as his father, and everyone goes along with it? (Honestly, I REALLY want this to happen, especially since I've spent the last hour scrolling through your tumbler and stumbled upon the 'I'm older than my father' post.)

8) Really, all these questions border on the main one of "is there going to be a breaking dawn/part 4-5 (depending) in your rewrite?" but if you do, would Carlisle buy Isle Bella as a honeymoon present of would that be in the oneshots book (that you'll hopefully be writing after this is over) as like a "Have fifteenth anniversary" thing?

9) Are you going to write a book full of random one-shots you couldn't fit into your story? I REALLY HOPE SO.

enthusiastically hope so. :) (that's really a tense smile with eyes SHINING with hope. Just informing you that you'll be crushing my heart. Brutally. With a stake. No pressure :) )

10) If you don't write the fourth book will we get an epilogue with the wedding five years later? Like, with Bella being SUPER nervous?

And finally, 11) (I really want a war to showcase Bella's awesome vampire powers (because you've stated (in a previous Tumblr post) that you'd give Bella her BAMF!Bella OYH powers)) So if there's a part four, even though the Volturi is "lawful" and like, has a brain, in your series, can they like have a brain fart where they go. "He's making an army," Or just straight up CANNON!Aro with his need for power be like "It's an immortal child, and it needs to be destroyed." But really be thinking, "They're growing too large, already their numbers rival our own, they must be put down! This is the perfect time!" Like the (cowardly) power-hungry and villainess we all know and love. Kinda.

I have other questions but those can really wait lol.

I basically want breaking dawn and the third (Do you count Charlie's book as part of Bella's story or as a stand-alone since you weren't really progressing the plot very much (also a very good way to have a time skip in your main)?) isn't even done yet.

I don't know if you can tell, but I've been reading this series for three days straight (new fan!) and just started your OYH series and I'm just filled with a desire right now. Like, I typically hate sex scenes in a twilight book (but that's because I was a child when these movies came out (saw them all in theatre!) and still was when I read the books, so Bella is SACRED lol, and It just makes me uncomfortable to imagine her in those positions (it's like a trauma okay?) but I really enjoyed your stories (even if I basically glossed over your sex scenes and read through them quickly) and could actually sit through your sex scenes (mostly, because it wasn't INTENSE! Like, a lot of rewrites turn breaking dawn into literal Porn and sully the books for me because they basically remove a lot of plot to make room for Bella's sudden appetite, and while, yes, you gave her an appetite and... I am just really enjoying your stories and how you write so Thank You.

Okay, I've let you know your appreciated and put out my question into the tumblr universe so now I just have to wait for you to see this and maybe respond.

I hate waiting.

I haven't gotten an ask in a while and AJKHFJKHD Listen!! THE FACE I MADE AT HOW LONG THIS IS??? Superb!! I'm honored you've taken the time to write this all out so I'm gonna try to answer you as best as I can!!

Right now I'm 100% sure that there will be a couple of Novellas/Novelettes directly after Earthshine. The Renee Story, the Charlie Story, and the Roommate Story which all will get maybe 40k and mini plots that are far more focused than Charlie's first story. Charlie's new story will be focused on his relationship with Carlisle too, so that should be fun!

Edward having a Mate is still up in the air at the moment. Since he is still very young, I don't see the need to really give him someone so quick when other characters have waited WAAAY longer. As for who it might be, that's also still up in the air in case I want to do a short story with him that's a part of a series of Novellas after the main books

If I do make a BD rewrite IT WILL have wedding/honeymoon/surprise pregnancy then it will PRETTY MUCH go off the rails from there because the Pregnancy will be VASTLY different. Carlisle is a Doctor and Bella isn't an idiot. They won't be in Washington either.

Again. The first half will be loosely based on the book and then just go completely off the rails because, Like you said, the Volturi have brains and I LOATHE an 'idiot' plot where people are required to suddenly become stupid for the story to work. As for the OYH route, I will be borrowing a couple elements from OYH but the conflict will be very different.

Elisha is baby and there's no way I could make another Dhampir at this point. Not with how much I love him.

The aging process will work differently in this fic for Dhampirs, so this question is irrelevant since Elisha will be a child for the entire fourth book. As for when he's older, Its still up in the air for this series. He deserves to be baby and I very much dislike the trope of age faster = mentally develop faster because that's BS.

We'll see, I love Bella and Garrett, but there's A LOT I'll have to cram into the last book so we'll just see.

As much as I'd love to answer this, I'm covering the honeymoon in the fourth book so you'll see what happens in there ; )

I HAVE PLANS for random one shots. I REALLY DO. I just has so little time to work on the main story so I might write some when Earthshine is done! I have a name for the one-shot collection already too and some Ideas!

I very much plan to write the fourth book you'll be fine. Bella will not be nervous, she'll be WAY more anxious about it going right. Mostly her nerves will be from anticipation and excitement because she'll be 23 and be very secure in her forever with Carlisle.

There will be a fight in book four that will not have the Volturi turning stupid. Don't worry about how.

Charlies little story is a Novella so I don't count it as a book.... GOD hearing you plowed through the series in so short a time is MIND boggling. I get people telling me this occasionally and I NEVER stop being amazed by it!

As for the sex scenes, yeah, I didn't want this to be erotic literature. I frequently scream that 'THIS ISN'T A SMUT BOOK' because them having sex is just a normal healthy thing that happens in relationships and wanted to show that. The sex scenes I write tend to be glossed over anyways so I'm glad it was readable for you. I get feeling frustrated and wanting more plot, but there are plenty of people who prefer the very explicit smut.

If sex scenes aren't your cup of tea, that's fine. I don't view Bella as pure and innocent though. It teeters dangerously on the Madonna/Whore dichotomy to act like she is. I get wanting to preserve the innocence of your childhood through her. That's not me though. Bella/Carlisle's relationship is highly sexual in nature within SoG and that's ALRIGHT too!

Thanks for the super long ask!!! it was great to read and fun to respond to!

[lost-in-purgaytory]

Dean Winchester’s Lonely Ex-Boyfriend Club (AO3) 

​Description: Ficlet. Dean and Cas are getting married! Pretty much everyone they ever met is attending, and that includes exes - some react more maturely than others. Inspired by all the headcanons I have seen about Benny and Crowley at the wedding. Some background about Dean/Benny in Purgatory, bitter Crowley, implied wedding hookups, and of course some cute Dean/Cas fluff.

“So… finally settling down with that angel of yours now, are you?” Benny teased in his soft voice, leaning on the bar.

Dean took a swig of his perfectly ice-cold heaven beer and looked over his shoulder with a fond smile at Cas, who was dancing wildly with Charlie and Gabriel, margarita in hand and wearing approximately half a button up shirt.

“Looks like it,” Dean sighed proudly and shook his head at how unbelievably lucky he was (now that he thought about it, how unbelievably sappy he was too). He huffed a short laugh through his nose at his damn happy self and took another sip of his drink.

Benny appraised him thoughtfully. “Well, you sure look happy.”

Dean nodded and tucked his chin down sheepishly, eyes crinkling. “You know, I really am, man. I really am.”

It was surreal how happy he was, actually - totally foreign and amazing. It wasn’t like he never had a happy moment before in his life, he’d had several, but there was always this voice in the back of his head saying ‘this is only temporary’ and ‘you’ll lose this - probably sooner rather than later.’ But that little voice was gone now. For the first time, Dean was truly at peace. Like some kind of zen master, appreciating every god damn second of his hopeful eternity. There was some real hippie shit going on inside of him right now.

“It was a long freakin’ road getting here,” Dean continued, lost in his own amazement, completely starry-eyed. “I mean, you were there for part of it, so you have some idea. But I never thought… I mean, damn…"

Benny’s signature smirk didn’t waver, but there was a sadness in it too. “And here I thought you were lovesick before, mate,” he joked.

“Oh, shut up,” Dean smiled back, actually having to fight off a blush thinking back to all those times Benny teased him about his affections for Cas back in purgatory - affections which Dean vehemently denied at the time (kinda hard to do when you're crying out a dude's name in your sleep every damn night).

Dean took another large swig of beer, as Benny’s gaze intensified over him - humor and a hint of soulful longing. Exes at the wedding, man… awkward.

But Benny was family, who earned his spot in Dean’s life and his invite to the wedding… just as much as any other guest; more than some of the other guests actually. Like Crowley, for example who was nursing a tumbler of whisky a couple seats over.

If it wasn’t for Benny fighting by his side so loyally as a trusted friend, through the muck and the dark, Dean might never have found Cas in purgatory.

And if Dean was being completely honest with himself (which he was trying to make a habit of, nowadays), Benny helped him in more ways than one. Turns out Dean had needed a big strong vamp with an accent to lead him into some no-strings-attached temptation in purgatory. Under pretense, of course, to maintain plausible deniability.

'Come on boy, we've both got needs and we're not exactly flush with options in this wasteland.’

'We gotta let off some steam every now and again if we wanna stay sharp.’

'What happens in purgatory, stays in purgatory.'

‘Nothing to be ashamed of, love. And don't worry, I won't bite. Unless you ask nicely.’

Apparently, Dean needed that nudge to help him let go of some of that inner shame that kept him from truly accepting that he was attracted to men. And more importantly, Cas.

It probably wasn't normal to invite your ex-vampire fuck buddy to your heaven wedding to your angel best friend, but when had his life ever been normal?

Benny was a crucial player in putting Dean on the right path, into the arms of his angel. And that was all that mattered, so Dean was grateful.

Benny’s constant teasing about Dean being in love with his ‘mysterious angel boyfriend’ made him come to terms with the fact that he had real (scary) feelings for Cas that couldn’t be denied, and made him realize (too late) that he was in love with Cas, as the portal spat him out with Cas still trapped on the other side.

Not too late, he realized suddenly, looking back over his shoulder, floored by the easy smile on his Cas's face as he spun Claire in a circle, in a clumsy imitation of swing dancing. He would have to interrupt soon and teach Cas some real swing-dancing, get some more one-on-one time with his husband.

His goddamn husband.

“I must say…" Benny interrupted Dean's thoughts before they could drift into a domestic daydream, "there were plenty of times I thought, Dean buddy, Hot-Wings clearly aint worth all this trouble,” he shook his head affectionately. “But lookin’ at you now, I figure I was wrong. Happy looks good on you, my friend.”

“Thanks, man,” Dean beamed, holding up his beer for a toast. Benny clinked their glasses together amicably.

“Oh spare me,” Crowley grumbled next to them. “If I have to hear one more heartfelt expression of love and respect, I might just puke all over this cute little reception.”

They both collectively ignored him. Crowley took this as a signal to down the rest of his drink and order a refill with a demanding snap of his fingers.

"Your angel better treat you right," Benny said, politely flagging for a refill of his own.

"No doubts about that," Dean assured.

Suddenly, Cas was at his side, tugging at his sleeve. "Dean!" Cas enthused. Instinctively, Dean tucked him closer into his side and gazed lovingly down at Cas and his endearingly excited expression. "Claire is setting up something called 'limbo' - the dance, not the metaphysical plane. I'm not exactly sure what it entails but I am told it is a tradition."

"Damn right, it's a tradition!" Dean grinned. He couldn't wait to watch Cas do the limbo. Oh, and they had to do conga line at some point. There were still so many human things he wanted to show Cas. A lifetime of things. "Wish my knees weren't so fucked. The limbo's one of the rare things I completely suck at."

Cas cocked his head and squinted his eyes, in the most beautifully Cas way. "This is heaven, Dean. You no longer have any physical ailments or limitations."

Dean pondered that for half a second. "Well, in that case…" he pulled Cas in closer and placed a kiss beneath his ear. Cas melted into him and Dean couldn't wait to get him alone after the festivities, their honeymoon could last for eternity if they so desired. "Might as well take these bad boys for a test drive."

Dean, blissfully happy, dragged his equally blissful husband to the dancefloor, completely forgetting his manners and leaving Benny chuckling at the bar without so much as a 'see you around'.

"Typical, is it not?" Crowley drawled, swirling his drink. "Fool takes one look at that bloody angel and disappears."

"I hate to tell you this, pal," Benny said, sauntering into Crowley's space. "But the jealous ex at a wedding doesn't usually get much sympathy."

"I'm nobody's jealous ex!" the demon growled.

"My mistake," the vampire returned flirtatiously. "Six tequila shots for me and my new friend, please," he ordered casually, without taking his eyes off Crowley.

Crowley raised his eyebrows questioningly, looking Benny up and down with new intrigue.

Benny shrugged. "Open bar. No point sulkin' around all evening." He pushed a shot glass in front of Crowley with his knuckle. "Aren't demons supposed to be the life of the party?"

"You should know I take challenges very seriously..." Crowley threatened, a smile gracing the corner of his lips for the first time all day.

"Countin' on it."

"Well then. To being the life of the party," Crowley announced suavely, lifting the glass from the bar.

"Cheers," Benny agreed, and they downed the hatch.

If they snuck off together at any point during the evening, nobody noticed, too busy paying attention to the happy couple.

[anjanettexcordonia]

The Spare Chapter One: Maldives

Book: The Royal Romance A/U

Rating: Mature (18+); NSFW; some language 

Characters/Pairings in this part: Liam x MC; mentions of Liam x OC; Leo x Madeleine; Drake; Maxwell 

Word count: 3,286(+/-) Future chapters will hopefully not be this long. 

A/N: Some characters belong to Pixelberry. 

Tags: If you would like to be added or removed please let me know. Only tagging those that specifically asked for permatag. 

@yourmajesty09​ @gkittylove99​

“Are you ready for this Brother? You know if you want to back out now, the jet is ready just in case.” 

Leo smirked at his younger brother. “ My brother, the cynic. I love her Li and I know one day you’ll find someone. You have to let what Maria did to you go.” Liam rolled his eyes. 

Two hours later they arrived at the cathedral. It was the royal wedding of the century. Leo and Madeleine were the epitome of royalty. The country couldn’t have been more proud for the reigning monarch and his new Queen. The reception followed the ceremony and the happy couple danced the night away without a care in the world. 

King Leonardo and Queen Madeline were set for their month long honeymoon while Liam handled the country. 

“Listen little brother, if you need anything ask Dad or Regina before you call us. We have a duty to produce an heir and I fully intend on making that happen.” Leo winked at Madeleine. “Liam, don’t hesitate to call.” She rolled her eyes at her husband. “The King here is getting a little ahead of himself, I think.” “Don’t worry about a thing while you're gone.” Liam kissed Madeleine on the cheek and shook Leo’s hand. “Enjoy marital bliss lovebirds, don’t worry about a thing stateside.” 

It was smooth sailing running the country while the King and Queen were away. Liam worked with Constantine to secure Cordonia’a place in the UN. He also managed to get Leo an entrance in the International Trade Exchange. After the royal couples homecoming ball Liam and Leo sat in Leo’s study with a tumbler of scotch in each of their hands. “Thanks for everything you have done, Li.” “That’s what I am here for, Your Majesty” Liam said, with a sarcastic grin. “Sometimes I hate this shit but Madeleine loves it and I love her.” Leo shrugged. “Any news on an heir yet?” Liam asked, as he sipped his drink. “No, we decided to wait a while. Adjust to our positions. What about you? You ready to get back out there?” “Where is out there? I’m good where I’m at.” Liam said, smoothly but he knew he wasn’t fooling his older brother. “Oh here Li, Maddie booked you a villa in the Maldives for a week as a thank you. Take it, blow off some steam. Maybe you’ll meet someone.” “I wish you all would get off my damn back. I’m the spare. Who cares if I’m single? Between you, Connie, Regina and Max, I can’t get a minutes of fucking peace. I’m glad you married Maddie. She’s the only on that doesn’t give a fuck. Learn something from her.” Liam snapped, “I’ll take the vacation, but only the get the fuck away from here.” “Stop being so emotional Li, we just worry about you.” 

A month later, Liam boarded the royal jet destined for South Asia. He decided to take the trip alone with no security detail. The time away from everyone he felt would give him some perspective over where his life was headed. He was the spare after all. Not much was expected of him except to show up when needed. He wasn’t needed to run a country. He couldn’t choose any job he wanted, he was still a figurehead of the Royal family. He didn’t even have a girlfriend. 

“My son, I do hope you find a woman worthy of you soon. You may not be king, but its always beneficial to the stability of the monarchy to establish heirs.” Constantine’s words played on repeat in the back of Liam’s mind. 

“Sir, sir, we’ve arrived.” Liam woke to the attendant shaking him awake. Liam departed the jet and headed to his private villa. Good taste Maddie. The Maldives was quiet this time of year. Not many tourists which Liam was excited about. He wanted time alone. His villa was the most secluded. No one would be bothering him, he hoped. The villa was a large one bedroom bungalow with a glass bottom floor. He could see straight to the bottom of the crystal clear water below. Liam got settled in and decided to stay in and relax with a glass of scotch and a book George Orwell’s 1984. 

Tap Tap Tap 

What the fuck was that? Liam sat up. He was dozing off, the sun outside was setting. He looked down. 

Who the fuck is that? 

A girl was tapping on the glass floor beneath him. She was in a light blue string bikini with scuba gear strapped to her. 

Tap Tap Tap she tapped more frantically. 

She pointed to the hatch directing him to open it. He ran over and opened it and she climbed out. She took the regulator out of her mouth and unzipped her vest. “Ugh sorry. I was following a fish and got stuck. I didn’t mean to intrude. I’m Camilla. Most call me Cami.” She stuck out her free hand for a handshake. Liam just stood in place frozen. He couldn’t move or speak. 

This is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen! What did she say her name was? Camilla? Say something you idiot!! 

“Ummm okay.. I’ll go. I’m only further down the beach. It’s okay if I use the front door?” Liam nodded his head, still unable to speak. Cami started towards the door. “Wait, I’m sorry, I’m Liam. I just didn’t expect to see someone, so beaut… coming through my floor” he ran to open the door for her. “Here I’ll carry that for you.” He reached for her oxygen tank. “No no I got it.” “It’s the least I can do for my rudeness.  Are you within walking distance or we can drive?” “Walking is fine, as long as that’s not too heavy for you?” Cami winked and pointed to her vest in his hand. Liam laughed nervously unsure of what to say. “Lead the way, Camilla.” Cami felt a tingle down her spine at the way her name fell off his full lips. “So, Liam? Right?,” he nodded his head, “what brings you to the Maldives, business or pleasure?” “Neither really, relaxation, alone time, what about you? Are you a local?” “Local?,” she laughed, “I wish, no I am here for R&R like you. Alone time? You’re on vacation alone?” “Yep, just me. That weird huh?” They made it to her bungalow. Six bungalows. Liam thought to himself. “Well this is me” Cami said as they stood at the end of the bridge that led to her front door. “Cami, where have you been?” a girl that looked strikingly like the one standing in front Liam. “Sorry that’s my sister,” Cami whispered to Liam, “I’ll be there in a minute Ans.” Ansley didn’t listen. She came striding right next to Cami. “Who is this?” Ansley asked out loud. She looked Liam up and down. “He’s cute, look at this chiseled abs Cam, mhmm..” “You’re engaged stupid. Go inside.” Cami snapped at her sister. “I’m sorry Liam, you’ll have to excuse my overzealous twin sister.” “Oh it’s fine, she likes my abs. Maybe I should be shirtless more often,” Liam winked at Ansley. “Oh my God, Cam if you don’t kiss him I will.” “Go the fuck inside, Ansley.” Cam whispered, her face turning bright red. Ansley laughed and went back inside. “Well, thanks for not letting me drown earlier, I’ll see ya around Liam.” Cami went to grab her stuff and go inside, but without thinking Liam pulled her into a soft kiss. Cami pulled away. “Umm thanks bye.” She ran inside leaving Liam standing at the end of the bridge. 

“Shut up Ansley. Do not say a fucking word.” Cami slammed the door to her room. She threw herself down on the bed. Her world felt like it was spinning. She couldn't help but think how soft and sensual the kiss was. She had never felt anything like it. 

Liam walked home alone with his thoughts. His hands dug into his pockets as flip flops kicked up the sand behind him. He headed towards the beach to clear his thoughts. He didn’t know what took over his body when he kissed Cami but whatever it was he liked it. The way she tasted, mint mixed with salt of the ocean, and slight smell of coconuts in her hair. He sat on the beach and listened to the waves. It had been nearly 5 years since Maria had broken his heart. He closed himself off after that. He decided being alone was easier than getting hurt. There was an instant connection with Cami. He couldn’t deny the electricity between them. Liam called it a night and headed back to his bungalow. He checked his phone. No new messages. He laid on the bed with a thud, flicked the light off and drifted into a deep sleep. 

Bang Bang Bang “Liammmm are youuuu in there?” Bang Bang Bang 

Liam rolled over with a groan and checked his phone. 3:17am 

Bang Bang “Open Uppp” 

“Who is it? It’s three o’clock in the morning!” Liam yelled. He climbed out of bed and stumbled to the door still groggy from sleep. “Cami?” He said, completely alert at the sight of her. “Heyyyy Liiiiaamm.” Cami slurred, “Can I come in?” “Are you drunk Cami?” She pulled a bottle of champagne she was holding behind her back and handed it to him. “Want some?” She asked, leaning against the door frame. “Sure. Come in.” He ushered her inside and to the large sofa. He grabbed a water for Cami and poured himself a glass of the champagne she brought. “Maybe have some water first.” He handed her the bottle. “So what’s bring you over?” “That kiss.. I thought we could.. try it again..?” Liam looked up. She crashed her lips onto his. She forced his lips apart and into his mouth. The electricity radiated from their bodies. Liam fisted her blonde locks with one hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her on his lap. Liam picked Cami up as she wrapped her toned, sun kissed legs around his waist. He carried her to the bed and laid her down on her back, their kiss never breaking. Cami ran her fingers down the elastic of his boxers. “Wait Cami, we shouldn’t. You’re drunk.” Cami knew he was right. Liam rolled on his side next to her. He kissed her on the forehead and wrapped his arm around her. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

Mmm.. moist.. tight.. Liam woke from his dream. He still felt the sensations he was feeling while he was asleep. “Fuck Cami” he moaned. Her tongue swirled around the tip of his growing cock. She licked the beads of precum. Liam pulled the sheet off so he could watch her work his member. She looked him in the eyes as she took him all the way down her throat. Liam had never been so turned on. “Come here. It’s my turn.” Liam pulled her up and kissed her passionately as he rolled her to her back. He kissed and nipped at her already peaked nipples. He nipped her hip bones and sucked leaving his masks behind. He slid a finger through her moist folds. He brought his mouth to her bundle of nerves. Cami almost leaped off the bed at the feel of his tongue swirling her clit. He continued the lashing of her clit and pushed a finger inside. He pumped in and out curling his finger against her most sensitive spot. He could feel her let go at the pleasure of his fingers. He climbed back up hovering above her on his elbows and kissed her until her lips were swollen and bruised. He grabbed a condom out of the night stand drawer. “Let me,” Cami said seductively. She leaned forward and unrolled the condom to the base of his length. “Fuck you make not want to to wear this, I want you so much Camilla.” He lined himself up with her dripping center. He thrust deep and slow and allowed her to adjust. He groaned at how tight she felt around him. She wrapped her legs around and rolled her hips to meet his thrusts. He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked as he thrust inside her. He felt her walls start to flutter the harder he thrust inside her. “Cum for me Camilla” his words were all it took for her to come completely undone. She screamed his name as his thrusts became more frantic. He gripped her hips digging his fingers into her skin as he erupted inside her. He leaned down and kissed her deeply as pulled himself out of her. He laid next to her and pulled her into his arms. Neither one of them could find the words to say. 

“I leave in a week.” Cami finally broke the silence. “Me too” Liam whispered, “Spend the week with me.” “Okay. My sister is leaving early. Wedding emergency.” 

They spent the next week enjoying each other. They learned everything they could about each other. Liam told her about his family in Cordonia. His brother and his wife. His father's retirement. She told him about Graduate School and the pressures she was facing from her family over choosing a job. When they weren’t talking they were learning everything they could about each other’s bodies. Kisses, licks, bits, moans and screams. 

Six days later after spending the night exploring each other, Liam and Camilla laid in on the glass floor completely naked looking down at the fish below. “Stay one more week with me, Cam” Liam whispered. “I already extended my trip, but it’s just one more week and I have to go,” Liam pulled her into his arms,“Every second with you is everything, you are everything, go on a date with me?” “Okay. But our dinner options may be limited due to the isolated island.” She spoke softly. “Leave it to me my love.” Liam felt her body tense at her words. He didn’t know why he said it. Oh my God it’s been a week you idiot! He screamed in his head. 

Cami woke the next morning to find Liam’s side of the bed empty and cold. She threw on Liam’s tshirt that was on the floor from the night before and headed to the kitchen. A note was leaned against the coffee pot full of freshly brewed coffee for her. 

                                                  Hey Baby, 

                         Enjoy your coffee & meet me at the beach. 

                                                        -L 

                                     P.S.

                                    Wear something you can get wet. 

Camilla smiled and finished her coffee. She took a quick shower and brushed her teeth. She threw on an all white cheeky string bikini and a pair of Ray Bans and headed down to the beach. As she got closer to the beach she saw a large white tent set up with the the corners tied open. Liam was sitting on a thick blanket with pillows surrounding him and a glass of champagne in his hand. 

“Liam?” Camilla whispered. Liam jumped up at the sound of her voice. Her voice was a siren song in his ears. “Hey Baby,” Liam leaned down and kissed Cami on the cheek, “join me?” They drank, ate, and laughed together. Cami felt herself falling. I love you, damn those three words, you leave in two days Cami. Get yourself together. “Liam, we need to talk.” She lowered her head avoiding eye contact. She knew if she looked in his eyes she would get lost, better yet she would drown in those deep pools of mysterious blue. “I leave in two days. I go back to reality on different ends of the Earth.” “I know Cam, we can try can’t we? I can visit New York, you can come to Cordonia.” “No Liam, it’ll never work. We both have obligations.” Liam lifted her head to meet her eyes. “Give me today tonight.” Liam kissed her so deeply it left her dizzy. They spent the rest of the night into the early morning making up for time they didn’t they had lost. 

The day came for them to leave their tropical paradise and their love for the moment. Neither had spoken a word to each other. Neither finding the words. Cami sat on the bad after packing her suitcase. Her flight boarded in an hour. Liam’s flight didn’t leave until later that night. “Cami, can we stay in touch?” Liam sat next to Cami and laced his fingers through hers. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I just.. It’s time for me to go..” Cami stood up. Liam stood up and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m not saying good-bye Liam,” she whispered as tears welled up in her eyes. “Then don’t say anything at all,” Liam wiped the tears away as they fell down her cheeks, “I”ll drive you the airport.” Liam lifted her into his arms and carried her to his black Range Rover parked in the parking lot near the villa entrance. Cami stared out the passenger window without saying a word. Liam held her hand in his lap tightly as he drove. He dreaded having to watch her board the plane not knowing whether he would ever see her again. 

They pulled up to the tarmac and Liam jumped out and ran around the car to open the passenger door for Cami. Cami leaned forward and buried her head in her hands as the sobs took over. “Why is this so hard after only two weeks, Liam?” Liam pulled her hands from her face. “I don’t know. We will see each other again. I can feel it, my love.” She got out of the car and he wrapped her in one last kiss. A kiss filled with love and sadness. A kiss that made their world stop turning and everything around them melted away. Liam pulled away and kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and her nose like he was memorizing every inch of her features. “My love,” Cami interrupted Liam, “Don’t say it. Will you text me?” “Every day.” Liam watched as Cami boarded the plane. She waved before the plane doors shut. He watched as her plane took off and disappeared above the clouds. A familiar feeling he hadn’t felt in two weeks, what was almost a distant memory flooded him. Loneliness. She already felt like a figment of his imagination. Liam drove back to his bungalow to pack. He passed by Cami’s bungalow. An emptiness he didn’t recognize creeped into his heart. He walked into his bungalow and pulled out his phone. He needed someone to talk to. Someone to tell him what to do. 

                     “Drake.. Ya it’s Li. Ya sorry I took off for two weeks                                     without telling you.. Everything’s fine. I’ll be home tomorrow. So I’m                                             calling because I met a girl..” 

Liam told Drake everything about Cami. How they met and her sister. How they had an instant unexplainable connection. How he thought he was in love. How he thought she was the one. The One. 

“Listen Li, Go after her. Don’t be a fucking idiot. I’ll be on the next flight to New York, ugh apparently Max too. Do you know where she lives?” Drake asked. 

“I don’t even know her last name. She has a twin sister named Ansley and she’s graduating from Columbia Law next week. And she’s from Manhattan, New York. That’s kinda all I got. I have her number but I am sure she doesn’t want me chasing her down...” 

“I’ll get Bas on it. I’m sure he has plenty of time since Maddie locked Leo down,” Drake laughed, “we’ll find her.”

[rohan025700]

SIX ROMANTIC PLACES TO VISIT IN GOA FOR HONEYMOON

The tiny state of India, Goa offers plenty of opportunities to you and your better half to create beautiful memories together with your Goa tour package for couples. Whether you desire a private and enjoyable exclusive holiday or you want to have fun under the glitzy sky, Picnicwale curates the best Goa Honeymoon Package for couples.

Best Time to Visit Goa For Honeymoon

Goa enjoys a tropical climate. The best time to go is the winter season and that is the time whilst maximum vacationers arrive. May to October are monsoon months and maximum places, water sports and adventure activities are closed throughout these months. The summers should be warm and humid. However, this additional way that you may avail of notable costs in your Goa tour packages for couples and Picnicwale assures a memorable Goa Honeymoon.

Best Places To Visit In Goa For Honeymoon

• Beaches:

Goa is popular across the world for its beaches and it's miles, the pinnacle enchantment in any Honeymoon Trip to Goa. There’s something very stunning approximately around those best beaches which you can not assist however get attracted to it. Calangute is the most important beach in Goa and possibly one of the best Goa Honeymoon Places. It is nearly usually bustling with vacationers. With honeymoon tour packages for Goa, Couples can loosen up on the beach or play spherical beach volleyball or have a luxurious meal at the various shacks here, you're certain to have an awesome time. Other famous beaches close by are Anjuna Beach, Candolim Beach, Baga Beach, and Aguada Beach. While the times are supposed for a few frolicking withinside the sand, the beaches come to existence at night time whilst many parties, stay music, and performances are prepared here. Do now no longer pass over the nights at the beach in your couple's honeymoon tour to Goa.

• Basilica of Bom Jesus:

Visiting and praying at this anciental church is a notable manner to begin your marital existence. This 16th-century church is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Entombed in this church are the stays of St. Francis Xavier. And amazingly, the stays remain in notable circumstances even after such a lot of centuries. Apart from the spiritual significance, the structure of the construction is awe-inspiring and is an imposing legacy of the Portuguese. It may be an enriching experience for couples on a Goa Honeymoon trip.

• Fort Aguada:

Like many architectural wonders in this nation, Fort Aguada, too, was constructed with the aid of the Portuguese to protect against the Dutch and Maratha armies. Aguada Fort is positioned at the beach lines of the Mandovi River, close to Candolim Beach. With comprehensively deliberate Goa honeymoon packages, couples can go to Fort Aguada to witness the wonderful memories of Goa. The construction of additional homes is certainly considered one among the most important freshwater reservoirs in Asia. A lighthouse at the shore is taken into consideration to be one of the oldest in Asia.

• Evening Cruise:

A romantic evening cruise over the rippling waters is a great way to unwind together along with your partner and have to be blanketed on your Goa honeymoon packages. Most cruises go away from Miramar Beach. There are many methods to revel in a cruise and everyone is unique. Sunset cruises can help you witness the putting solar in all its gorgeousness and glory. Dinner cruises provide a non-public and romantic meal with the glittering waters imparting a surprising backdrop. Many leisure cruises have casinos and stay performances onboard. Take your choice and encompass it on your Goa tour packages for couples.

• Dudhsagar Falls:

Milky white water, cascading through many layers offers the phantasm of a toppled milk tumbler and for this reason the name. The sound of the gushing waters fills you with tremendous peace and we're certain which you and your accomplice will love the region a lot.

• Thalassa:

This place is pretty famous among the couples on their honeymoons. Rocky cliffs standing tall towards the sturdy waves of the Arabian Sea, Thalassa is dotted with several world-magnificence eating places and old fashioned cafes. These eateries serve a number of the maximum delectable seafood dishes. An excellent manner to unwind in your Goa honeymoon package.

Picnicwale presents exclusive Honeymoon Packages in Goa with prices not more than anywhere else and will surely suit everyone’s pocket. Book Goa Packages for Couple now to get the other exciting offers and discounts.

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: Alone Together (Brick/Blossom)

This is a ten-years-later sequel to Beyond This Morning (BTM). It’s not the official sequel; it just takes place in the same universe. You do not have to have read BTM to fully enjoy this, but it rewards you if you have.

This one is for Carrie. Not only is she an awesome friend and a stalwart enabler, but she also did a very entertaining live reading of BTM and I owe her, like, a lot. Shoutout to the IG squad too. Y’all are the best fandom ever, period. Have a spicy Reds cookie on me with a side of family shenanigans. 💁

***Also posted on my AO3.***

xxx

The night was gold dust and gossamer, the liquor an oak barrel scotch neat, and Blossom had nothing but time. She savored the smoke as the swallowed her scotch and smiled at her reflection in the mirror behind the cherrywood bar. The amber lamplight softened her long red hair, and the liquor’s burn made her pink eyes glisten with a liminal haze in between sensual and soporific. Even the patrons’ voices were nothing but a heady hypnosis far away and standing guard between her and the chaotic world beyond. She could hardly remember what peace and quiet felt like, and she’d sooner be drunk on this serenity than the Lagavulin.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Blossom’s stomach clenched at the sound of that mellifluous voice directly behind her. His body heat radiated like an active volcano: simmering and still right now, but not for long. “I was,” she quipped.

A slim body slipped into the barstool next to hers. The tailored suit did him every favor, as did the rare lack of a tie that allowed for a more lax treatment of his shirt buttons. Liquid crimson eyes held her in his crosshairs, and she froze.

“Blossom,” he said, setting his own drink on the bar with an air of permanence.

“Brick.” The scotch burned Blossom’s throat going down, but not hot enough.

His grin betrayed a hint of teeth, white and sharp.

“Can I get you anything?” the attractive bartender asked Blossom.

“You can bring him another,” she said.

“I’ll take a glass of the Bordeaux.” Brick pushed his empty tumbler toward the bartender.

“Of course.” The bartender cleared the old glass, and neither Brick nor Blossom spared him a glance.

“How about now?” Brick asked while the bartender disappeared to retrieve his wine.

Blossom’s eyes lingered on the styled bangs that hung in his heartbreaking eyes. “I’ll let you know.”

The bartender returned with Brick’s wine and left them alone to their universe. His adroit fingers held the wine glass’ delicate stem with intention and care as he swirled it. Blossom bit her lip.

“What brings you here?” he asked like he didn’t care even as his gaze trailed down the plunging neckline of her little black dress.

She grasped his chin and lifted his gaze to hers with a sly smile. “Rare night off.”

His eyes burned as she dragged her thumb over his bottom lip, and when she tried to pull away, he caught her wrist. “Lucky me.”

“That’s presumptuous.”

He laughed, and she felt it in every buzzing cell in her body. “Liar.”

This close, Blossom could smell his cologne. Just when she thought he might come closer though, he released her and went back to his wine like it was the most interesting thing in this bar. Despite herself, she twirled a tress of hair around her finger and silently counted to five while she waited for her heartbeat to return to normal.

“What about you?” she asked, returning to her drink. “What brings you out tonight?”

He grinned as he took a savoring sip of wine. In the warm jeweled lighting, the few threads of grey in his burnished copper hair gleamed silver. “Apparently, I’m turning 40.”

“And this is how you’re celebrating? Drinking alone at a bar?”

“Looks like it.”

Blossom ignored the way his eyes lingered on her profile. “What about your brothers?”

“Probably at home with their families. Married with kids, you know how it goes.”

“Mm. I’m drinking alone at a bar too.”

“Right, a rare night off, you mentioned.”

Blossom ran her finger over the rim of his wine glass. Tiny frostlings crept down the glass like ivy. “Well, then,” she said, plucking the glass out of his hand and taking a full sip of the chilled wine, “I suppose we’re alone together.”

Brick’s thumb at the corner of her mouth was so warm she gasped. It was gone as soon as it had appeared, and the drop of wine he’d caught along with it. Blossom watched as he brought the digit to his mouth and licked it clean.

“I suppose we are,” he said, breaking the hypnotic pull.

Blossom flushed. She supposed she deserved that one.

“Can I get you two anything else?” the bartender asked politely.

Blossom flashed him a curt smile. “No, thank you. I’ve had enough for one night. Please send the bill to my room.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She got up and gathered her clutch and phone. The entire time, Brick watched her like she might catch fire if he looked away.

“Brick,” she said primly.

“Blossom,” he returned. “Turning in?”

“It’s late.”

He ran his finger over the rim of his wine glass, and the frost vines evaporated under his touch. “Is it? I lost track of the time.”

“Well, you still have a couple hours left of your birthday. I’m sure you’ll find some way to enjoy them.”

“I’m sure I will.”

With that, she left him to his wine and headed for the elevator that would take her to the topmost floor, where she had rented a room for the evening. A honeymooning couple giggled as they dashed into the elevator after her, holding hands and dolled up to the nines as they whispered to each other and completely ignored Blossom. She smiled and moved to the far corner to give them some space.

But before the doors closed, a hand shot in between them and forced them back open. Brick sauntered into the elevator and perched against the back wall next to Blossom, but he didn’t say a word or even look at her. In his defense, the young couple making out like it was their last night on Earth commanded attention. Their soft giggles and sweet words reached Blossom’s Super hearing, and she bit her tongue not to laugh.

Finally, after nearly thirty floors, the doors opened and the honeymooners flooded out, nearly tripping over their skirts as they stumbled down the hall to their room and fumbled for the key rather poorly. Blossom followed them out, and Brick followed her at a sedate pace.

“Young love,” she quipped as she arrived at her room at the end of the hall.

“Disgusting,” Brick said.

“Now who’s the liar?” She opened the door on the first try as the honeymooners’ laughter grew louder in their repeated failed attempts.

Before she could push the door open, Brick’s hand closed over hers on the knob. Warm lips pressed against the shell of her ear, and she shivered. “Caught me.”

Blossom couldn’t hide her smile anymore and yanked him inside with a burst of Super strength that sent him crashing into the wall with a crack. She pinned him by the wrists before he could move and pressed herself flush against him. “Damn right I did.”

He came alive when she kissed him. Red sparks jumped in between them as he pushed back against her, but she didn’t offer an inch as she shackled him to the wall and held him there for her pleasure for a few glorious seconds. A low growl was her only warning before he got serious and used his explosive Super strength against her. Blossom gasped when her back met the opposite wall.

“We used to be like them,” he said, his voice husky with their kiss and their power.

“You and I?” Blossom ran her hands over his face, in his soft hair she loved even more with its silver veins. “We’re not like anyone.”

Like a struck match, Brick ignited above her and kissed her hard. Her hands fumbled at his belt as he slid her underwear down and off beneath her black skirt. They didn’t even bother with the rest, too intoxicated with the night and the memories and each other to waste another minute. Super or not, there was something incredibly hot about how he could lift her up with his bare hands and hold her there against the wall as he fucked her like they were ten years younger and just as desperate for each other.

“You’re goddamn right we’re not,” Brick said as he pushed in deeper. “Fuck, Blossom—”

The plaster cracked behind her, and it went straight to her core as she tightened her grip around his narrow waist and yanked his hair back so she could kiss him properly.

“You want me,” she said, breathy and crumbling with every move he made.

“Yes,” he moaned against her lips.

“You love me—ah!”

He bit her bottom lip hard, the cheater. “More than anything.”

Blossom whimpered as he held her just right to melt in his arms. Ecstasy: every moment, every touch, every Earth shattering push. He knew her precipice so well it was nothing to plunge her over it and catch her as she fell. With a shudder, she kissed his ear, his temple, his mouth. “You chose me.”

Heat seared her thighs where he held her, and his gorgeous eyes held hers at the expense of all others. “You’re my wife,” he said.

Blossom’s pride flared at that spell in his voice, as powerful as the first time he had ever cast it, and she rewarded him with a clenching embrace that broke him. With a muffled cry, he buried his face in her neck and bit down as he came. The air shimmered around them, Super heated, and Blossom summoned frost to her lips and fingertips as she threaded them through his hair and whispered softly.

After a few moments, his grip loosened and she slipped back to the floor still in her strappy heels. She appraised the entrance to their hotel room: a wrecking ball may have checked in for the night in their stead. “We didn’t even make it past the threshold.”

His laugh came out more like a wheeze as he fixed his pants and leaned one arm on the cracked wall to catch his breath. “Your act worked a little too well on me.”

“The role-play was your idea.”

His gazed trailed down her figure. “No wonder it was perfect.”

Blossom ran her hand over his chest, damp with sweat. One by one, she popped the buttons off his red dress shirt. “Satisfied already?”

With every button she popped off, his face slackened as the afterglow faded and his desire for her returned with a vengeance. Blossom fought the urge to squirm under his heady gaze.

“That sounded like a challenge,” he said, physically straining not to grab her.

The last button was off, and Blossom ran her palms over his smooth skin to shoulders, pushing the shirt and his blazer off. “You know me so well.”

Before he could respond, she had his shirt off and flew him across the room in a blaze of pink, where he hit the bed with a whoosh. For as long as she lived, Blossom was sure she would never get tired of the absolute high she felt looming over her husband about to have her wicked way with him, and the unadulterated passion and pride with which he watched her doing it.

She pulled the tie out of her hair and let it tumble over her shoulder. Slowly, the straps of her dress slipped off, leaving her bare from the waist up. “Happy birthday, Brick.”

It was a miracle the guests in the room below theirs didn’t file a complaint with the front desk when the bed gave out.

xxx

Brick pulled his black Aston Martin into the circular driveway of Princess Morbucks’ seaside vacation home on the Sonoma coast. He cut the engine and sat there as Blossom finished texting a work email on her phone. When he didn’t budge, she put her phone away and looked at him quizzically.

“Brick?”

He sighed and leaned his head back against the black leather rest. “Do we have to go in there?”

Her fingers through his linen shirt were cool to the touch, and he repressed a shiver as she leaned close. “Are you pouting?”

There was a smile in her voice that he chose to ignore and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t tease me right now.”

She smiled for real and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry. You know I love you.”

“And yet, here we are.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s my birthday weekend.”

“And the weekend is nearly over. Hey.” She touched his face and turned him toward her. “Are you okay?”

He searched her eyes for any hint of a ploy, but he found none. They were such a lovely shade of rose, unlike anything he had ever seen on another person, and they were honest. She had always afforded him her honesty since they became reacquainted, and for that, he would have given her anything she wanted. “I miss this,” he said, letting her see a glimmer of the vulnerability he was sadly so good at keeping under lock and key.

“What do you miss?” she asked.

“Us. Time. Our time. One weekend isn’t enough. We shouldn’t need some excuse to take off.”

She looked at him like she really heard him, but before she could respond, something Super-powered and little girl-sized hit the driver’s side window.

“Daddy! You’re back!”

Brick nearly jumped out of his own skin and coughed up smoke. Blossom was out the passenger side door faster than the naked eye could see, and she quickly yet carefully peeled her five-year-old daughter off the side of Brick’s beloved car.

“Hey, no hello for me, Briar?” Blossom hiked Briar up on her hip, and Briar blinked dark scarlet eyes far too savvy for her age.

“Maaaaaybe,” she said, aloof.

“Oh, I see how it is. Then I’ll just have to give you a big frosty kiss!”

Brick got out of his car and watched his grown-ass wife and mother of his children stoop to a five-year-old’s level and blow an icy raspberry on Briar’s neck, freezing half of her solid. Briar squealed in surprise or delight and leaped out of Blossom’s arms. She bent the ice off her skin to gather in her hands, and blew out even more with each peal of laughter as she began launching Super snowballs at Blossom.

Brick caught one that went awry in his bare hand before it could smack into his car, and it evaporated to steam almost instantly under his infernal power. “Briar, where’s your brother—oof!”

He got an armful of little girl wrapped up in a rose-red blur for his complacency and fell back on his ass. Instinct and old habits stoked furious fire in his lungs, but it fizzled to nothing as his daughter laughed and plied him with kisses, smearing pink lipstick all over his cheeks and chin.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he demanded. “Is that a tiara?”

“You bet your grumpy old ass it is.” Princess emerged from the house looking far too fabulous for a Sunday afternoon at home. “Swarovski crystal. You like?”

“I like!” Briar chimed in.

Blossom grinned. “She does look fabulous.”

Princess flipped her stupidly luscious hair. “In this house, every girl is a princess. I should know.”

Unfortunately, Blossom found that funny and laughed along with Princess. As convenient as it was that his best friend and his wife had become as thick as thieves over the years, it often resulted in a battle of the sexes that saw him giving up far too much ground to the both of them. Some wars, however, were not worth fighting. Not when they both looked at him like he’d won something by picking himself off the ground with Briar tucked under his arm like a Corgi.

“Oh Brick, that’s a great color on you,” Princess gushed. “Pink is the new black.”

“Please, pink never went out of style.” Blossom winked coyly at Brick, and his pathetic heart beat a little bit faster.

“God, you’re so right,” Princess said. “Listen to your mom, Briar. She’s the smartest person I know, and that’s saying something.”

Case in point, some wars were not worth fighting. Brick ignored the playful jab and wiped the pink lipstick smears off his face.

“Daddyyyyyy,” Briar whined.

“Don’t ‘Daddy’ me, Briar,” Brick said. But he took one look at her big scarlet eyes and her cute ponytail she insisted on growing out because she wanted to be as pretty as Mommy and Mommy was the prettiest girl in the whole world (which, true), and he caved like a bendy straw. “Fine.”

“Yes!” Briar flew out of his hold and plopped down on his shoulders like a queen on her throne, and Brick held her in place by her ankles.

“Oh, cheers, Briar.” Princess raised her wine glass to no one at all and took a satisfied sip.

“Hey, where’s Blaze?” Blossom asked.

“Who?” Princess said.

“Ha ha. Please tell me he didn’t burn anything down this time.”

Princess waved her off and headed back inside. “He’s fine, don’t worry. But he didn’t want me to dress him up for some totally insane reason. Am I right, Briar?”

“You’re always right, Aunt Prin!”

Brick rolled his eyes so hard he could see his brain short-circuiting in his skull. “Jesus Christ, what have I done.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you managed to make an impeccable daughter,” Princess quipped.

“Nope, that one’s on me,” Blossom said.

They laughed again, and Brick felt the small part of his soul that wasn’t bonded to Blossom’s wither and die.

“This way, Daddy.” Briar tugged on his perfectly styled hair to steer him left once they were past the foyer, and Brick automatically changed course.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Did you have a good time with Aunt Princess?”

“Uh-huh!”

“How many new clothes did she buy you?”

“Um, this many?” Briar waggled all ten of her fingers in his face.

“Cool,” he said.

Not cool.

Princess was single-handedly turning his children into fashion-forward little snobs. And while Brick would never abide any child of his looking like some snot-nosed, slobbering baby, a part of him worried whether he and Blossom were spoiling them too much. Blossom insisted it was fine so long as the gifts came from Princess and not from them, and they learned how to say thank you and pick only a few to keep from the vast collection so the rest could go to charity, so maybe it really was fine. He wouldn’t know, having never received much from his own father growing up, let alone a cool rich aunt.

In the living room, a skinny eight-year-old boy wearing a red baseball cap too big for his head slept on the leather sofa with his back to Brick and Briar when they entered. Brick checked behind him for any sign of Blossom, but she was obliviously chattering away in the kitchen with Princess, probably indulging in a glass of that rosé Princess had been drinking. Briar had fallen very quiet on his shoulders, and he squeezed her ankles conspiratorially.

Heat churned in Brick’s lungs, gathered pressure in his cheeks, and burst from his lips in a tight ball. His sleeping son’s arm shot up and caught the ball of fire before it could hit him in the back and incinerate the sofa. Briar whined in disappointment, like she’d wanted to see her big brother’s pants catch on fire.

“Hi, Dad.”

“It’s four in the afternoon, Blaze,” Brick said. “Why the hell are you sleeping?”

Blaze snuffed out the fireball and turned over on the sofa with a lazy yawn. He pulled off his cap that used to be Brick’s, scratched his short red hair, and slipped it on again backwards. Pretty, almost feminine fuchsia eyes blinked blearily up at his father and little sister towering over him.

“Aunt Prin made me heat up the pool this morning,” he said.

Of course she fucking would.

Leave it to Princess to choose swimming in an unheated pool over the goddamned ocean that was literally her backyard on a whim and putting his pyromantic son to work.

“Did she pay you?” Brick asked.

Blaze shrugged. “Nah. But she promised me a favor. Anything I want.”

Brick cracked a smile. “Well played.”

He was learning fast. Perhaps too fast. Oh well—he was Blossom’s son; she would have to deal with him when the time came.

A loud bark of laughter from the kitchen preceded a sharp and rather chilly tug on Brick’s hair. “What’s so funny?” Briar asked.

Brick took a deep breath and tried not to think about the damage his daughter’s ice powers were doing to his hair. “Let’s find out. Blaze, get your ass off that couch.”

Blaze got up with minimal grumbling, and Briar leaped from Brick’s shoulders to his. “Sleepy head!”

Blaze scrunched up his freckled face in a way that made him look his very young age despite all his best efforts. “Briar, quit it!”

“Make me!”

“I will.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yes-huh!”

“Nuh-uhhhhh!” Briar hugged him tight and burst with frost.

“My hair!” Blaze flashed fuchsia in a panic and shimmering heat rose from his shoulders, melting Briar’s ice. She laughed and took off flying, and he was quick to follow. “Get back here!”

Brick considered stopping them, decided it one hundred percent wasn’t his problem, and headed to the kitchen to grab a glass of Princess’ wine.

“Did you find Blaze?” Blossom asked when Brick entered the enormous marble kitchen.

Brick opened his mouth to respond when Briar and Blaze blasted into the kitchen in a burst of scarlet and fuchsia. Blossom dissolved in a blur of cotton candy pink and reappeared with two tiny Supers in each hand dangling from their collars.

“She started it!” Blaze exclaimed at the same time as Briar said, “He started it!”

“And I’m ending it,” Blossom said in a tone that brooked no argument. She looked between her two children, contrite and expecting her punishment.

Blaze looked to Brick for a lifeline, but he held his son’s gaze with unwavering indifference: if he was going to fuck around like a little baby, then he would be treated like a little baby.

“What do you say?” Blossom asked.

“Sorry,” Briar muttered.

Blaze wiped his nose. “Yeah, sorry Mom. Sorry Aunt Prin. We didn’t mean to almost wreck your house.”

Princess shrugged. “Whatever, kid.”

Brick shot her a withering look. “Really, though?”

Princess poured herself more wine.

Blossom caved like the sap she was and hugged her children close, showering them both with kisses. “I missed you guys!”

Blaze and Briar bravely put up with their mother’s effusive love for a few seconds until she put them down.

“Do you have something to say to your father?” Blossom asked.

Both Blaze and Briar beamed at Brick, and he repressed a cringe. “Happy birthday, Dad!” they said in creepy-cute unison.

Brick took one look at them and grabbed Princess’ arm. “Princess.”

“Say no more.” Princess poured him a generous glass of wine. Unfortunately, she also looped her arm around his and hugged him. “Happy birthday, hot stuff.”

“Kill me.” Brick downed his wine.

“You are so dramatic. Runs in the family, obviously,” Princess said. She kissed his cheek and wiped her red lipstick off after.

They hung out in the kitchen drinking wine while Blaze and Briar entertained themselves talking Blossom’s ear off about every single thing they did this long weekend. Like a champ, she listened and enthusiastically responded to it all, while Brick sighed and thanked whatever gods didn’t exist for the gift of wine and Princess.

When eventually Blaze climbed onto Brick’s lap and fell asleep again, Blossom decided it was time to leave. Brick carefully shoveled Blaze and Briar into the backseat of his Aston Martin and buckled them up. “Keep your shit under control,” he warned them.

Briar beamed. Her energy knew no limits. “Okay, Daddy!”

Blaze crossed his arms and promptly went back to sleep without a care in the world.

It took another ten minutes to pry Blossom away from Princess as they embraced and confessed their undying love for each other and, like, almost made out probably because there was nothing in the world better than a positive female friendship, as Blossom was fond of reminding him.

By the time they arrived at their suburban Citiesville home, Blaze and Briar were passed out cold. Once Brick and Blossom put them to bed, they sat together in the living room with a blanket between them.

“Hey,” Blossom said as she leaned against his side on the sofa admiring the garden through their floor to ceiling windows, “do you want to continue what we were talking about earlier? About there not being enough time for us?”

Brick sipped his wine. He had an arm around Blossom, and he could smell her perfume. “Not really.”

“Okay.”

They lapsed into silence for a bit, and Brick squeezed her shoulder. She said nothing. He shifted under the blanket. “I mean, I’m just saying.”

“Saying what?”

He scowled and ran a hand through his hair. Her stony gaze made him shiver. “I love them.”

“I know you do.”

“I would die for them.”

“I know you would.”

Brick gritted his teeth and looked her in the eye. “I’d die for you too.”

She touched his cheek and waited for him to meet her gaze. “You’ll never have to.”

“I know. You’re stronger than that.”

She held her breath and he held her. There were memories here, history, a trust they had bled for to earn. But he knew she meant it and so did he, and that was everything. He shuddered, weak like he never was with anyone but her.

“Yeah, I am,” Blossom said. “Hey.” She took his hand in hers and kissed his knuckles. “We have time. You have me. I love you so much, I can’t even catch my breath.”

“I know you do,” he said, his throat constricting.

“And if you want to take more time for us, we can do that. You just have to talk to me.”

“You’re busy, and the kids…”

Her fingers in his hair were a cool balm. He pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m not too busy for you. I love you, Brick.”

Her confession always floored him, no matter how many times she gave it. When he kissed her, she was soft and cool, and she kissed him back. “Let’s do it, then. Take more time. Not because it’s my birthday, but just because.”

“Okay. I’d like that.”

“Princess can take them.”

“Princess spoils them.”

“Who gives a fuck?”

Blossom laughed. “I do. Don’t be an ass.”

“Well, we need a nanny or something. Boomer and Bubbles can do it.”

“Boomer and Bubbles have their own kids.”

“So they have experience.”

Blossom laughed again and snuggled closer to him. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m right.”

Blossom sighed dramatically and buried her face in his chest. “I guess you are.”

He grinned and held her close. She smelled like lavender when he kissed her head. “Blossom.”

She smiled and snaked her hand around his neck. “Brick.”

When he kissed her, he gave her all of himself. How could he have lived for so long without her to share everything with? What would be the point?

“What do you think about the Seychelles?” Blossom asked.

“Hm?”

“We could go diving, lie on the beach, you know. Just…away.”

He pictured it: Blossom in a bikini on the white sand, greeting the sunset with champagne, or under the sea SCUBA diving with creatures most people could never even fathom in their lives. And he smiled. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

She kissed him softly, and she held his entire heart in her hands. “It’s a date.”

They spent the rest of the night in each others’ arms, alone together, and Brick couldn’t remember a better birthday in all his life.

xxx

Thanks for reading! 

***Trinity House is now live on AO3! Check out that fic if you enjoy my writing and want more PPG content. I hope to see you all there!***

[avictimofthejazz]

Templeton Peck/A Dubious Partnership--Templetonpeckcangetit/Peggy Shippen

@templetonpeckcangetit​

“Madam, your vote of confidence is overwhelming.” Templeton grumbled under his breath, attention fixated on the safe he was attempting to pick his way into. Under normal circumstances, the last person he wanted to associate with was the wife of the British Spyhunter General but since when could Templeton ever claim he acted under ‘normal circumstances’? Such luxuries vanished whenever a man allowed his paths to cross with Colonel Smith’s… Admittedly, it had not been hard to convince Mrs. Arnold to help him. Apparently, the rumors that the honeymoon phase of the Arnolds marriage had passed already were all too accurate. From the first time he visited their home during a party, safely in the guise of a Tory businessman from Long Island, he detected a certain…iciness which pervaded every corner of the space. It was certainly not a happy home… To gain entry to this safe, Templeton sold the story that in Arnold’s rampage after Continental spies, he accidently mistook a British spy for a Patriot one. Should Arnold arrest the man, the consequences could be quite dire for the couple and Arnold’s already shaky position with the British army, not to mention the British intelligence network itself. Therefore Templeton, with a checkered past of his own to aid him, had been requested by interested parties to discreetly retrieve the information before a scandal rocked multiple areas of the British army. Of course it was all nonsense…But Mrs. Arnold seemed to accept it well enough. Frankly, right now, Templeton did not care what story she bought as long as he received access to this safe and the information inside of it… Gritting his teeth when his pick slipped against the tumblers, he glanced up at the woman again. “Perhaps…could you step back a bit, Mrs. Arnold? I believe you’re blocking my light.”

[searchingwardrobes]

The Convenient Groom: 3/12

I know Tuesday is the day for updating this fic, and I did finish this chapter last night, but I was too tired to go through the long process of posting it. But I’m not THAT late, right?

Summary: Killian Jones just happens to be there when Emma Swan gets the phone call that changes everything: her fiance is leaving her at the altar. The thing is, it also could mean the end of her career. Convenient that Killian has nothing better to do that day. Convenient that he’s secretly in love with her. Not that Emma has to know that. Written for @spartanguard​

Rating: M

Words: 5k in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @welllpthisishappening​ @kmomof4​ @teamhook​ @xhookswenchx​ @bethacaciakay​ @ohmakemeahercules​ @kday426​ @superchocovian​ @sherlockianwhovian​ @shireness-says​ @stahlop​ @scientificapricot​ @distant-rose​ @optomisticgirl​ @winterbaby89​ @wellhellotragic​ @branlovestowrite​ @tiganasummertree​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @vvbooklady1256​ @hollyethecurious​ @nikkiemms​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @jennjenn615​ @thislassishooked​ @snidgetsafan​ @let-it-raines​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @carpedzem​ @profdanglaisstuff​

Chapter Three: Emma and Killian wake up (separately) the morning after their wedding of convenience and face the fallout.

Killian was awakened the next morning by his ringing phone, and when he went to reach for it, he almost fell off the narrow sofa. He almost forgot where he was until the crick in his neck and the light pouring through the glass doors leading to the suite’s balcony reminded him. In his confused state, he neglected to check the contact on the phone screen before he answered.

“Hello?” He blinked and rubbed his hand over his face as he swung his legs to the floor.

“What the bloody hell did you do?”

Liam’s voice was like ice cold water being poured over his head. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

“You got married?”

“How . . . “ Killian stammered, “you mean you know?”

“It’s all over the news, little brother. I woke up this morning and my phone was blowing up with texts. No one even knew you were in a relationship! What the hell is going on?”

Killian’s hand drifted from his jaw to his ear and back again as he rose and began to pace. “Well, you see, with Emma being a public figure and all, we just wanted to keep our relationship secret. And with her line of work, we knew whoever she dated, much less married, would be under a lot of scrutiny. I mean, our relationship would have been picked apart, so -”

“So you lied to me?”

Killian almost dropped the phone. The lies were only just beginning. “Um, more like, I withheld information.”

“Vital information!” Liam’s volume was climbing, and Killian pulled the phone farther away from his ear. “Elsa is pissed, and Anna literally cried because she missed the wedding. How could you do this to us - again? I thought I’d be your best man this time.”

Killian groaned as he heard the hurt clearly in his brother’s voice. “I’m sorry, truly I am. Emma and I are planning on doing a second, smaller ceremony for my friends and family.”

“So this was a publicity stunt. To promote her and her career.”

Great. Liam was pissed at Emma and they hadn’t even met. “A career which I support wholeheartedly. I didn’t even really care how we got married just so long as we did. I love her.”

It was the first truthful thing Killian had said since he answered the phone.

*****************************************************

Killian had the television on while he simultaneously scrolled through social media on his phone. Liam hadn’t been exaggerating: the media was buzzing about Emma Swan - the one single women around the globe turned to for relationship advice - getting married. People magazine apparently had the exclusive rights to the photographs, which would be published in their next issue, but Emma’s press agent had officially released one photograph and it was literally everywhere. It was of their first dance, when Killian had gotten Emma to laugh. He hoped she was at least smiling in the rest that would appear in People. His heart would break if her shock, pain, and betrayal were on display for the world to see. He’d deal with the media, his brother, his sisters in law and their emotions - all of it - to keep that from happening.

“Seriously? Already?”

He turned at the sound of Emma’s voice. She was standing there wrapped up in the resort bathrobe, a fluffy towel circling her head. He hadn’t even heard her stir in the other room. He fumbled for the remote and muted it.

“Um, aye, your wedding is big news apparently - I mean, our wedding.” He gave her a nervous smile and scratched behind his ear.

Emma moaned, collapsed onto the chair across from him, and covered her face with both hands. “I invited the media,” she mumbled before pulling her hands away with a sigh, “so I don’t know why I’m irritated. I guess I just didn’t expect all this attention so soon.”

Killian quirked a brow and waved his phone at her. “Well Swan, according to Instagram you’re #relationshipgoals to all of your followers.”

Emma grimaced, and he knew it was a bad joke. “Yeah, what goals? To get jilted at the altar and marry your carpenter instead?”

Killian shrugged. “It was a damn good arbor I made though, right?”

Emma managed to laugh. “It really was, Jones.”

A silence fell between them. Killian turned off the television and set his phone aside. He knew she didn’t need any of it right now. Emma untwisted the towel from her head and ran her fingers through her wet hair. The picture she made: her hair tumbling wild, her long legs peeking where the robe had fallen open, the top gaping and giving him a peek of her cleavage was all too much. He wished for a robe himself as his boxer briefs tightened. He snatched the blanket from the couch and held it around his waist as casually as he could as he stood and made his way to the bedroom.

“I think I’ll just, um . . . use the shower now myself,” he told her.

“Sure,” she replied, and when she smiled at him, he could swear he saw a twinkle in her eyes.

Emma had used up a lot of the hot water, but the cold shower was what he needed anyway. He lingered just long enough to wash away the sweat from the last twenty four hours and calm himself down. When he exited, he was relieved to see that his bags were lined up against Emma’s in the bedroom. The bellhop must have put them there the night before. He pulled out a pair of jeans and a simple grey tee from his bag. He had just slipped the shirt over his head when he heard a knock at the door and a voice call out “room service!”

Emma beat him to the door, and when Killian stepped out of the bedroom, she was ushering in a man pushing a tray that held their breakfast. Emma was still wearing the robe, and Killian didn’t miss the appreciative look the man gave her as he told her to enjoy her breakfast. Killian cleared his throat pointedly.

“Yes, we certainly will.”

The man had the decency to blush. “Um, yes, Mr. Jones. Enjoy your breakfast.”

Emma laughed after the man had shut the door behind him.

“What?”

“Jealous, Mr. Jones?”

Killian huffed. “Well, did you notice the way he was looking at you?”

Emma shrugged. “Well, to be fair, I’m wearing nothing but a bathrobe.”

“But you’re married!”

Emma’s eyes widened. “But we’re not actually a couple.”

“He doesn’t know that,” Killian grumbled.

Emma laughed again as she lifted the cover on one of the plates of food. Her laughter cut off sharply, however, and her hand froze in midair. “Are you kidding me?”

Killian rushed to her side, wondering what could be wrong with their breakfast, but then he saw it: the local newspaper tucked between the trays. The headline practically screamed: Emma Swan and New Husband Honeymoon on the Cape. Below it was the same official wedding photograph everyone else was posting along with a paparazzi shot of the two of them arriving last night in the limo. Emma banged the cover back onto the plate with a grunt of irritation.

“Everyone promised they would be discreet! The limo driver, the hotel manager . . . “ she trailed off with a scowl on her face.

“I’m sure they were, love. Anyone could have tipped off a reporter: a bellhop, a maid . . . “

Emma paced the room. “This means that any time we go out, there could be reporters.”

“Well,” Killian quipped, struggling to keep the shit eating grin off his face and failing spectacularly, “don’t most newlyweds stay in the majority of the time? Doing more enjoyable activities rather than sightseeing?”

Emma rolled her eyes, but a faint blush colored her cheeks. “I’m not going to hide.”

“In that case,” Killian replied, pulling the cover off a plate of eggs benedict and bacon, “I’m going to enjoy the view with my breakfast.”

He carried the plate, some silverware, and a tumbler of orange juice out onto the balcony. He breathed in the salty sea air and let the breeze wash over him.

“Relaxed?” Emma asked sarcastically. Killian turned to see her leaning against the open sliding glass door with her arms cross.

“Aye,” he answered, taking a bite of the eggs benedict and moaning. He was exaggerating slightly to get a rise out of Emma, but they were delicious. “By the way, love, if paparazzi are around, you may not want to lounge about our balcony in naught but your bathrobe.”

Emma blushed as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Do you always talk like a character in a Jane Austen novel?”

He laughed as Emma scurried to get dressed.

******************************************

Emma leaned over the bathroom sink to sweep some blush across her cheeks. She didn’t want to waste too much time primping; those eggs benedict looked amazing, and she didn’t want them to get cold. Yet Killian was right - a picture could be snapped anywhere, and she didn’t want to look pale and depressed She tossed aside her makeup brush, ran her fingers through her hair, and rushed back out to grab her breakfast. Before she could lift the cover on the second breakfast tray, her phone started to ring. She was so hungry, she almost ignored it, but at the last minute, she snatched it up. With the media all over her wedding, anything could go wrong.

Walsh.

Panic flooded through Emma at his name on her cell phone screen, and her hand trembled as she took the call.

“You married someone else?”

Emma clenched her teeth. “Why good morning to you too, Walsh. How is your day?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Emma. We break up, and the next morning I wake up to find your wedding day splashed all over the news?”

“You didn’t just break up with me, Walsh! You cheated on me! And you waited until our wedding day to tell me!”

“And that wedding was never anything more than a stunt for your career. I didn’t even have any say in it.”

“Oh really? So you didn’t get down on one knee and propose? I just imagined that?”

Walsh let out a long breath. “That was eight months ago. A lot has changed since then.”

“I’ll say,” Emma grumbled.

“Don’t put this all on me. I was always your dirty little secret. I couldn’t even tell anyone I was your boyfriend much less your fiance.”

“How dare you!” Emma’s voice had risen, but she didn’t care. “That was you, Walsh! You said you didn’t like that I had a blog or such a huge social media following. You said it made you nervous. You said people would violate your privacy and try to dig up dirt on our relationship. So we kept it secret - because it’s what you wanted. I was your dirty little secret, not the other way around.”

A sleepy, feminine voice came distantly through the phone. “Walsh? Who are you talking to? Come back to bed.”

Emma felt sick. She knew that voice.

“Zelena West? You cheated on me with that bitch?”

“Hey, don’t call her that,” Walsh snapped.

Emma rolled her eyes. Zelena West had overtly flirted with Walsh at every social function back in New York, yet Walsh had insisted constantly that the Broadway starlet was just his client, nothing more. Even worse, Zelena went out of her way to undermine Emma on social media, posting snarky tweets and YouTube videos contradicting Emma’s advice. As if a Broadway actress who slept her way into every role she ever had was qualified to give relationship advice. In Emma’s opinion, Zelena’s dating advice boiled down to “make your man happy with a fake ‘you’ and lots of sex.” Advice that basically took women backward about six decades.

“Is everything okay?”

Emma whirled to see Killian in the doorway to the balcony, his forehead creased with worry. On the other end of the line, Walsh laughed sardonically.

“Sounds like you’re one to talk. You’re on our honeymoon with - what did TMZ call him? Swan’s sexy catch?” Walsh laughed again. “I always wondered why that wedding arbor meant so much to you.”

“You don’t get to judge me!”

“The point is,” Walsh said, his voice turning serious, “we drifted apart as soon as you moved to Storybrooke. I’m a New Yorker through and through, Emma. That kind of life never would have been enough for me.’

Emma sank to the couch and was surprised when Killian sat down next to her and laid a hand comfortingly on her knee. “The thing is, Walsh, you should have told me all of this six months ago. I didn’t deserve what you did to me. I didn’t deserve your cheating or your lying.”

“Who’s lying now?”

The edge to his voice sent a chill down Emma’s spine and she glanced at Killian with a worried expression. He frowned and put an arm around her. Before this phone call, she would have pushed him away, but right now she appreciated the support.

“Are you threatening me, Walsh?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t ruin your facade of a marriage. Lord knows I don’t want my name dragged through the mud when it all blows up in your face.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The truth will come out eventually, Emma, and when it does, your career will be over.”

“Sounds like a threat to me.”

“It isn’t, I promise you. I love Zelena, and I just want a clean break so I can give what I have with her a chance.”

“A clean break? That’s what leaving me on our wedding day is to you?”

“I can admit that my timing was bad, but you promise you won’t interfere with my relationship with Zelena?”

Emma rubbed her forehead wearily. “I don’t give a shit what you do with Zelena. Just stay out of my life. Don’t call me again.”

She hung up without waiting for a reply and tossed her phone down angrily on the sofa. Killian rubbed at her shoulder hesitantly.

“Anything I can do?”

Emma shook her head. “No.” Then she squared her shoulders and rose from the couch. “We have five days here in the Cape, and I intend to enjoy it.”

Killian smiled up at her. “That’s the spirit. How does the beach sound?”

“It sounds great,” she told him, struggling to put a brave smile on her face. Then she went back to the cart that held their breakfast. “But first - I’m starving!”

************************************************

Killian was glad that his swim trunks were roomier than his boxer briefs because Emma Swan made quite the picture lounging in a crimson string bikini. She’d been sunbathing for awhile on her back, and he’d thought that was a tantalizing picture, but his view now was just as delectable. She’d flipped over onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows to read a book. Her bikini bottoms hugged her ass just as well as the top hugged her breasts. It made his mouth dry thinking of how much he’d like to . . . he took a swig from a bottle of water then pressed the cool plastic to his forehead.

“Grab me one?” Emma asked, rolling onto her side and slipping a bookmark into her novel.

Killian pulled one out of the cooler provided by the resort. A wicker basket contained the remains of their lunch - sandwiches, grapes, slices of cheese, and gourmet pretzels. The honeymoon package at this resort was four star, and far nicer than anything Killian had experienced before. Yet Emma wasn’t pretentious in the least. He had learned enough about her over the past few months to know at least that much. She’d moved her life and her practice to Storybrooke because she wanted to really help people, not just cater to the elite in New York. Her therapy fees were a bargain, especially considering her level of education. She lived simply, and he wondered if it was a sacrifice so she could help more clients or just the way Emma Swan rolled. He looked forward to finding out.

He couldn’t really read Emma’s expression behind her sunglasses as she took the water from him, but he saw her lips curl up in a tiny smile. “What’s on your mind, Jones?”

He shook his head. “What?”

“If you stare at me any harder, you’re going to burn a whole in my head.”

He chuckled nervously. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

She took a sip of water. “About what?”

“You.”

“Oh,” Emma said softly.

“I mean, if we’re going to be husband and wife for eight months to a year, we should at least get to know each other.”

Emma was quiet a beat longer than he was comfortable with, but she finally gave a firm nod. “Okay, that’s fair.”

“Of course, we can start with me.” He reached into the basket for a handful of grapes and popped one into his mouth. “So shoot. Ask me anything.”

Emma arched a brow. “Anything?”

“Aye. I’m an open book.” Just don’t ask me how I feel about you. The grape almost stuck in his throat going down. Why was he agreeing to this?

“Okay, then,” Emma took a deep breath, “can you tell me about your first wife? I mean, just what you’re comfortable sharing.”

She was afraid she’d overstepped as Killian fell silent, rolling a grape between two fingers, his gaze distant. Then he popped the grape in his mouth, chewed, swallowed, then began to speak in a low voice.

“Her name was Milah. I was a senior at Bowdoin -”

“Whoa, whoa, wait,” Emma interrupted waving her hand around, “Bowdoin?”

Killian chuckled. “Didn’t expect a carpenter to be a college grad, did you?”

“Yes, I mean no, it’s just,” Emma blew a strand of hair off her forehead in frustration. “That came out wrong. Lots of small business owners have a degree, it’s just . . . Bowdoin?”

Killian nodded with a smug grin.

“Business major?”

“Double major in music and visual arts.”

Emma whistled. “Wow. No wonder your work is so beautiful.”

He scratched behind his ear, a tell Emma had already come to learn meant he was nervous or uncomfortable. “Thank you, Swan.”

“Bowdoin,” she repeated with a shake of her head.

“I know what you’re thinking. It’s expensive. I had scholarships. Two of them - one for art and one for music. It added up to a full ride, but I almost didn’t go.”

“What!”

Killian smiled wistfully. “Believe me, I know. I was young and impetuous. Thought I’d go into the navy, actually, but Liam talked sense into me.”

“He’s your brother?”

“Aye.”

They fell silent again, and Emma wondered if he’d change the subject, if all she’d get was a name and that he’d been a senior at Bowdoin when he met her.

“She was a professor, and she was already married” he finally said, glancing at her sideways as if expecting her reaction to be negative. Little did he know the stuff she’d heard as a psychiatrist. She doubted anything could shock her anymore. When all she did was nod, he continued. “Her husband was controlling, verbally abusive, and much older than her. He was wealthy, and she’d let herself get caught up in the trappings of his life. I think my youth, my freedom, were what appealed to her in the beginning. But over time, I don’t think anyone ever understood me the way she did. We were married at the justice of the peace a week after I graduated, only a month after her divorce was final. It was quite the scandal.”

Killian winked at her, but she got the feeling it was a deflection. She looked down at the beach blanket she was lying on and traced the pattern with her finger.

“What was she like?”

“Brilliant,” he sighed, “and vivacious. She didn’t take shit from anyone. Her husband must have been a right bastard to keep her under his thumb for so long.”

He hadn’t said a word about her looks, which surprised Emma. In her experience, it was the first thing men usually thought of when someone asked them to describe a woman.

“What was she professor of?”

“Music theory. She was quite the composer. The piano was her instrument, and she also had a beautiful voice.”

“What do you play?” Emma scooted closer. She had never imagined him as musical, just as a sweaty man flexing his muscles in that shop of his.

He smiled at her. “The guitar, but I haven’t played much since . . .”

Emma frowned. “Since she passed?”

Killian nodded. Emma scrambled up to sit cross legged on the beach blanket. The mood had gotten heavy, and she suddenly needed to lighten it. She still didn’t know how MIlah died, but perhaps now wasn’t the time. She grinned at Killian and poked him in the leg.

“Okay, Jones. Your turn to ask a question.”

He rubbed at his chin as he regarded her intensely, and Emma had to force herself not to squirm under his gaze. When he finally chose his question, it took her completely by surprise.

“I told you I haven’t read your book, and despite our cover story, I’ve never followed you online either. So tell me, Swan. What exactly is your philosophy on romance?”

Relief and eagerness simultaneously coursed through her. On the one hand, she was relieved that it was a professional question rather than a personal one. On the other, she always got excited talking about her ideas regarding relationships.

“Well, first of all, it’s not about romance, it’s about building solid relationships.”

“You don’t believe in romance?”

Emma shrugged. “There’s obvious biochemical reactions when we are attracted to someone.”

Killian leaned close. “I said romance, not attraction, love.”

Emma glared at him over the rim of her sunglasses as she shoved him playfully in the shoulder. “Okay, smart ass, but what I’m saying is that women in particular can get caught up in what you call romance and miss the reality of who the person they are dating actually is. Men are experts at playing on a woman’s emotions as well in order to get what they want. So step one is for a woman to watch out for those tricks, to understand the games men play so they won’t be duped.”

This was usually the part where men got defensive and started arguing with her, but Killian didn’t.

“What’s step two?”

“Well, step two is the compatibility quotient.”

“Ah, I see, like those algorithms dating sites use.”

Emma shook her head. “No. Those are questions to measure personality compatibility. I help women figure out what they want in a partner. Everything from their professional goals to family goals, even whether they are more an urbanite or suburbanite or like to live way out in the country.”

“Let me guess. There’s a chart.”

Emma huffed. “Are you making fun of me?”

Killian lifted both hands in surrender. “Not at all, Swan. Just a simple question.”

“Yes,” she admitted, “there’s a chart. And I always recommend that women review what it is they want both before and after each date. If the man they’re seeing doesn’t fit, even if it’s only the first date, they end it. Of course, there’s always the red flags to look for too.”

Killian nodded, and you could have knocked her over with a feather at the way he was mulling over her words. Most men were pissed at her by now. Even Walsh had been before she explained how he perfectly fit everything she had been looking for.

Or so she had thought.

“Red flags are definitely important. Milah said there were several before she married Robert, but she’d been blinded by their whirlwind romance.”

“Not rushing into things, that’s important too.”

“Chapter?” Killian asked with a grin.

Emma grinned back. “Chapter four - Seriously Ladies, What’s the Rush?”

“What’s the rush as in my groom just left me and I need a replacement in six hours rush?”

Emma groaned, even though a laugh bubbled out of her unbidden. “I don’t think I covered this scenario in my book.”

“Well, Swan, maybe this will be fodder for your third book.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d said that, and Emma sensed a tone of self-deprecation in his words even though it was worded as a joke.

“So what do you think?” she asked.

“About your third book?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “No, about my theories.”

Killian was silent for a long time. He spread out on his side and propped himself up on his elbows so he was looking right up into her eyes.

“I think it’s all rather clinical, to be honest. I don’t know that love can be boiled down to compatibility or goals in life. I think love is messy and always a risk. It upends your life so that it’s never the same.”

Emma usually got angry when men argued with her about her life’s work, but something about Killian’s voice softened his words.

“I agree, and that’s just it. Women have to protect themselves from allowing their lives to be upended by the wrong person.”

Emma’s face burned as she realized what she was saying. Obviously, her life had been upended by the wrong person. How could she have missed the signs?

“Milah would have liked you, Emma.”

Her eyes widened at Killian’s words and the soft smile upon his face. He could call her out; point out the very obvious failure she had been at her own relationship, but he didn’t. Another long, silent moment passed between them before Emma cleared her throat and started rummaging through the drawstring bag she’d brought along. She pulled out a bottle of sunscreen and started rubbing it into her skin. She had a tendency to burn, and she wasn’t about to spend the rest of their trip miserable and slathered in aloe vera.

Killian sat up and drew closer, reaching around her for the sunscreen and lowering his lips to her ear. “Don’t look, but farther down the beach, behind that sand dune is a man with a camera. He doesn’t look like a tourist, and the camera’s trained on us, not the water.”

Emma froze. “What do we do?”

“Give him what he wants,” Killian answered. “A woman in love would ask the man in her life to do her back, right?”

Emma could only nod as she gathered her hair off her neck. Killian sat behind her and squirted sunscreen into his palm. The sunscreen was cold at first against her skin, but then the warmth of his hands had her muscles relaxing. His fingers were calloused, his touch firm yet gentle. She bit her lower lip as he worked the lotion into her shoulder, her neck, then her upper back. He slid his fingers beneath the straps of her bikini so he wouldn’t miss a spot, then massaged down her lower back, his thumb trailing along the waistband of her bikini bottoms. She hoped he didn’t feel the shiver that coursed through her.

“Lie down.”

His lips brushed the shell of her ear, and she almost leaned back against him with a sigh before his words registered with her brain.

“Excuse me?”

“Lie down. I’ll get the backs of your legs.”

Emma managed to nod and did as he asked, propping her chin on her crossed arms. He massaged the lotion into her thighs and then her calves with such delicious circles of his thumbs that she almost let out a moan.

“Done,” he told her in a husky voice.

Emma rolled over to find herself caged between his arms. “Thank you,” she managed to choke out, yet he didn’t move.

“Newlyweds would kiss right now, don’t you think?”

“Why? Is he still taking pictures?”

Killian leaned in closer and gently removed her sunglasses. “Probably.”

“Then I guess we should.”

“Should what?” his lips were so close now, she could hardly breathe.

“Kiss,” she breathed.

“Right,” his lips brushed hers, then he pressed them against hers firmly. She kissed him back, opening for him immediately. Her arms encircled his neck, bringing him down to her. He could have taken advantage of the situation, pressing his body to hers, exploring her barely clothed figure with his hands, but he didn’t. He rested on his side, slipping one hand beneath her head and caressing her upper arm with his other. When he pulled away, he stayed close, their breaths still mingling.

“That was pretty good acting,” she told him with a shaky voice.

“Right,” he said, rolling onto his back and flinging an arm over his eyes, “acting.”

Now Emma rolled over, caging him between her arms instead. “Hey,” she teased him, “I think we’ve put on a pretty convincing show. Now how about we get out into that water?”

Killian pulled his arm away from his face and squinted in the sun. “Race you to the water?”

“You’re on!”

Emma thought she had the advantage, considering their positions, until Killian grabbed her around the waist. She yelped as he deposited her right on her rear. He then took off for the water line as she scrambled to her feet. She could scarcely breathe, she was laughing so hard.

Not the way she’d imagined this honeymoon twenty four hours ago, that was for sure. She’d expected to be holed up in her room watching rom coms and binge eating ice cream. Instead she was laughing on the beach with Killian Jones who just happened to be a damn good kisser.

[dramionedaydream]

“Always Something” long, complete Dramione fic by diamonddaydream

Summary:  17 years into their unlikely marriage, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy are tested by a magical accident that sets her memory back to age 18. Draco scrambles to hold together not just his marriage, but also the lives of his teenaged children: Pollux, who is shocked to find he is the inspiration for Griselda Goyle's Veela stories, and Castora, who, with the help of James Sirius Potter, confronts the possibility that she may be a squib. Complete, HEA

Read on Ao3 or ffn

Excerpt:

“Mother,” Draco said as he guided Hermione onto the sofa. “Hermione’s not feeling well. Can you bring her some refreshment?”

Narcissa smiled. “Certainly. Lucius, dear, on the trolley, if you please.”

“Of course, my dear.”

Draco frowned. His parents’ manner was odd, even for them. “On second thought,” he rushed to say, “we’ll have something later, thank you all the same.”

“Not at all,” Lucius sang. “We’ve got a lovely punch here -- so invigorating it’s almost a tonic, perfect for the nerves, brewed by hand by doting parents, now shared with their favourite daughter by marriage. Here you are Hermione. To your health.”

As she took the cup Lucius offered, Draco raised his hand to cover the top of it. “After you, father. Surely you’ll drink too.”

A low laugh rumbled in Lucius’s throat. “Of course, Draco.” He poured himself a cup of hot, tawny liquid, and sipped it rather loudly. “There we are, my loving but trust-issues-plagued son. Who can blame you? Your father still has so much to answer for, to be sure.”

“I apologize, father,” Draco said, with a slight bow. “Hermione’s health being what it is, I’m extremely particular about what she takes into her body. Even a well-meant health potion could be disastrous for us so -- pardon me, Father.”

“Of course, Draco.” Lucius set his glass tumbler on the trolley and crossed the floor to stand behind Narcissa’s chair, placing a hand on each of her shoulders. “Now let your dear wife drink.”

Hermione hadn’t wanted anything to drink, but after the Malfoys had made such a fuss over it, she felt she had to accept what was offered. Nothing was simple in this house. That much was clear already. Her first sip was conciliatory, her second was polite, her third, curious, and her fourth and final one, ravenous.

Lucius chuckled, his hands working at Narcissa’s shoulders.

“It’s not much like tea, is it?” Hermione mused. “More like -- a warm gin.”

Draco lifted the empty cup, sniffing at it.

“Would you like some, Draco?” Narcissa asked, now that Lucius did not seem interested in serving anymore. With long, white fingers, he was brushing Narcissa’s hair away from her neck and ear, eyeing it like a peckish vampire.

On Draco’s arm, Hermione had ceased her stiff clinging and was softening, settling into him, her head against his shoulder, nestling her cheek against his arm. He pulled his head back to look at her. “Hermione? Are you sleepy?”

She hummed a reply, a sound almost like a purr, a sound he hadn’t heard in weeks. He blushed at it.

Lucius saw it, laughing.

“It wasn’t a calming draught, was it?” Draco asked.

“Nothing so potent,” Lucius drawled.

Narcissa looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes wide. “Bring me the bottle, Lucius.”

He groaned a protest, pressing his face into her neck.

“Lucius!”

“There’s been a mistake, Draco,” Lucius said, crossing the floor and lifting the bottle from the tea trolley. “I didn't want to alarm anyone by mentioning it, but I’m afraid the drink I gave Hermione was our own special blend, mine and your mother’s.”

Narcissa laughed. “Lucius, you didn’t.”

Hermione bent one leg over Draco’s knee, snaking an arm inside his jacket, against his stomach.

“Special blend?” Draco roared.

“Yes, reserved for loving, married couples.”

“A love potion?”

Narcissa laughed. “Heavens, no. Why would your father need that?”

Both of Draco’s parents, a pair of sixty-year-olds, were laughing now as Lucius climbed into Narcissa’s armchair, displacing her and sitting her on his lap as she tried to maintain a bit of her prim dignity.

“This is an assault,” Draco said, pulling Hermione’s hand out of his jacket as she murmured a complaint. “A breach of trust.”

“An honest mistake,” Lucius argued. “All the bottles on that cart are nearly identical. It’s a sound aesthetic choice, but a risky one when it comes to food safety. And it’s not a love potion, Draco. Stand down. It’s merely a disinhibitor, a loosener of pre-existing affections. Hermione won’t do anything she isn’t naturally inclined toward.”

Narcissa said. “Take her somewhere safe and wait it out. The effect won’t last more than an hour, or so. And it might do you both some good.”

He looked at Hermione’s face, pressed against his chest, eyes closed, smiling. “I am so sorry,” he told her. “This was not the effect I had in mind when we came here.”

“Mm, it’s alright,” she cooed, turning her face to openly breath in his scent. “Rather nice,” she sighed.

Narcissa cocked her head, “Lucius, look at them. So lovely.”

“She doesn’t mean it,” Draco spat. But his parents were ignoring him now as Lucius set about tracing the angles of Narcissa’s face with his fingers. It was time for them to leave the library.

“Of course I mean it,” Hermione said as Draco hoisted her off the sofa and onto her feet. She draped her arms around his neck. “Carry me away, Draco. I don’t remember a thing about our honeymoon. Carry me.”

With a snap, he disapparated them from the library, reappearing in his bedroom upstairs. Still holding his neck, she looked about the room, laughing. “It’s Draco Malfoy’s childhood bedroom. Have I snogged Draco Malfoy in his childhood bedroom?”

“Yes, it’s old news,” he said, disentangling her arms, stepping to the bed to pull down the covers. “You have snogged Draco Malfoy just about everywhere. Now,” he said, “lie down and go to sleep until you’re -- feeling better.”

“I’m not tired,” she said, swaying on her feet.

“Maybe not, but you are enchanted. So sleep.”

“Lie down with me, Malfoy.”

“Bad idea.”

“Please -- ”

“Hermione -- ”

“I trust you,” she said, staggering slightly as she moved toward him, sliding both of her arms around his torso inside his jacket now. “I do. You said you’re extremely particular about what I take into my body -- “

“Hermione!”

She was laughing at him, her face against his collar, her breath on the skin of his neck. Without words, he voiced his frustration, groaning as he pulled her hands free of himself, folding them against her sternum, lowering her onto the bed, tucking the blankets tightly around her, pinning her arms and hands against her body as he knelt on the rug. His jacket appeared to be a problem so he took it off, loosened his tie and collar, and accio-ed an ottoman to sit on as he watched over her...

[alj4890]

Angst/Love Prompt

(Thomas x Amanda) with a request from @krsnlove to write out my final idea for An alternate version of I Was On My Way angst short.

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) I refuse to let this angst storyline become a part of my AU's.

A/N Okay. Can the angst stop? Please?!? This is my third and final alternate version of I Was On My Way. I mean it. No more. My heart and eyes have worked overtime crying. Especially over alternate version 2. We might pretend that one doesn't exist. Anyway...Like Choices you can choose any of these three endings you want for the initial Say Goodbye short. I think though that this version will be the one picked.

Part 1: Say Goodbye

Part 2 I Was On My Way

Part 2 alternate She’s Gone

Song: Clarity

Masterlist

@lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment   @krsnlove @cora-nova @bella-ca  @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @desiree-0816 @greywitchyshots @lilyofchoices @emceesynonymroll @dr-nancy-house @aworldoffandoms @pixieferry @lolablackwrites @i-bloody-love-drake-walker

Remedy (3rd and final alternate ending for Say Goodbye)

Thomas clutched the tumbler filled with whatever alcohol he had in this particular decanter. He had forgotten what it was once he had finished the previous one. He took a gulp and welcomed the burn that began to numb his heart. His thoughts though, nothing was touching them. His only hope was that it would keep the dreams at bay.

He stared at the massive television screen and watched Amanda walk down the aisle toward Liam. He hated that he knew every glance, twitch of her lips, and facial expression. Knowing these only made his shattered heart break even more. She was not a happy bride.

Yes, she was smiling. Her unshed tears were typical of any woman on her wedding day. Her elegant silk gown draped over her figure perfectly. The slight tremble of her hands as she clutched the bouquet of red roses and white star lilies was normal with the cathedral filled with representatives from around the world.

He knew the truth though. She was devastated. He shouldn't have made the visit to Cordonia a year ago. Seeing her again...feeling her lips under his...hearing her voice say his name...it had hurt them both more than if he had remained away. Telling her he loved her...had it hurt her more than if he had kept it secret? Would he have admitted it if he had known beforehand that she was promised to Liam?

He took another sip as she took Liam's hand. Thomas watched them kneel as the archbishop expressed what a joyous occasion it was that brought these two individuals together. The couple at the altar stared straight ahead, each absorbed with thoughts of wishing the other was someone else, someone they truly loved with their entire heart.

He sneered at the hypocrisy. Their promises to love and cherish each other were spoken while avoiding eye contact. It was killing him to see the woman he loved be tied for eternity to a man that didn't love her nowhere near as he did. Liam couldn't begin to comprehend the depth of love Thomas held for her.

His guilt gnawed at his insides as he realized that it was his decision to break up with her that had set off the chain of events. It had ended in this wedding ceremony that should not have even been considered. He was sorry Liam had been denied the love of his life, but that didn't mean Amanda should be forced in a loveless marriage because of it.

Thomas set his glass down and noticed his phone vibrating. He didn't want to pick it up. He didn't know why he had set it up to be notified on any Cordonian news. He never intended to go back there, but a part of him couldn't let go of a way to see how Amanda was doing as Queen of Cordonia.

He ran a hand over his face as he started the wedding over yet again. Thomas had canceled this week's shooting schedule, knowing he needed time alone. Time to wallow in misery. It was Liam and Amanda's one year wedding anniversary. According to the press, the people of Cordonia were anxiously awaiting news of a possible pregnancy.

The royal couple had been seen traveling more so than usual these last two months which caused speculation that they were having another honeymoon for...he grimaced and downed the contents in his glass. The very image of her and Liam together in that fashion turned his stomach. He couldn't stand the thought of the king kissing her much less touching her body the way he once had.

Thomas knew he should turn the notifications off once and for all. He didn't want to see Liam telling everyone that Amanda was pregnant. That had to be what the big press conference was about. He had received the notifications this morning about Liam's sudden State of the Kingdom address. He was most likely going to announce the joyous event.

A baby. No matter what happened, a baby would keep her permanently tied to Liam, to Cordonia. Every last shred of ridiculous hope Thomas possessed turned to ash. There was nothing left but his tormented memories of when she was his, the televised wedding, and the knowledge that it was his fault.

He staggered to the kitchen to find something else to drink and paused when he heard his phone vibrate continuously.

Thomas clutched his head and slid down the wall. "I can't do it." He muttered into the darkness, cursing his own cowardice. "I can't look at it."

He closed his eyes, wishing he could take it all back. He imagined what he would do differently. Telling Amanda how much he loved her topped that fantasy. Thomas would get down on his knees to ask her to be his forever. He would tell her that he would move to Cordonia. Move wherever she wanted to live. He just wanted, needed, to be with her.

He leaned his head back against the wall as he pleaded silently for release from this hellish prison he had created for himself. His ghostlike existence was destroying him. The images of what he once had haunted him continuously.

He felt a brush of air and heard the soft sound of steps cautiously approaching. He didn't want Holly or Addison to try and cheer him up again. They had known about the anniversary and had argued against him withdrawing from those that cared about him during this time. He decided to ignore their prescence. They had learned to give him a wide berth if he was silent.

He grit his teeth when he felt someone quietly sit down beside him on the floor. He didn't want comfort. He didn't want anything but numbness and to be left alone. He ran his hands through his hair and bent his head forward.

He felt the gentle touch of a hand rubbing his back. He flinched and jerked his head up. He scooted away from what had to be the results of his mind finally snapping.

Amanda's concerned eyes flickered over his haggard appearance. A day's growth of stubble covered his jaw. Dark smudges were under his sleep deprived eyes. His hair was mussed and his clothes were wrinkled.

She started to reach out toward him but paused in uncertainty. "I'm sorry." She said in a soft tone. "I tried calling a little while ago. I shouldn't have come unannounnced, but I needed to see you." Her eyes filled with tears when he simply stared at her. "I...you said you loved me and I know it was long ago..."

She swallowed against the lump in her throat as she began to cry. "I knew there was a chance you moved on, but I had to come tell you. We cleared Riley's name. Liam, myself, and the others finally convinced Tariq to come forward. I'm free. My marriage has been quickly annulled. Liam and Riley are planning on marrying within the next couple of days."

She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "I had to tell you, in case there was a chance you... Oh Thomas, I love you. I've missed being able to--"

She buried her face against his neck when he yanked her into his arms. Her body was wracked with sobs as she clutched him close to her. Thomas closed his eyes and prayed this was real. He pressed his lips to her head, causing her to cry harder. He rubbed her back and tried to soothe her.

He cradled her face between his hands. His lips brushed her damp cheeks before landing on her mouth.

Amanda wrapped her arms around his neck, returning his kiss with all the pent up passion she had held for him. Thomas broke away for a moment and stood up. He kept her hand in a tight grip, afraid she would disappear. He turned the lamp on to see her properly...see that she was real.

She wiped her cheeks with her free hand while she looked at him. He took a shaky breath before pulling her into a hug. "You're here to stay?" He asked.

She nodded. "If you still want me." She lowered her eyes in embarrassment. "I can go to a hotel or leave the city if you don't want me here. You shouldn't be made to feel obligated to--"

"I love you." He interrupted. "So much. I tried to stop, but I can't. " His hands moved along her shoulders and back, unsure how to touch her, but needing to. "I need to be with you. I need forever with you."

Her face crumbled with tears. He felt panic set in that he had said something to drive her away. She moved into his embrace and tried to explain how much she had hoped for this while he held her tight.

"I wanted to call you so many times and tell you that Liam and I were still trying to make things right for everyone. Yet, he was so frightened of it getting out and spooking Tariq further away." She met his steady gaze and sighed. "Knowing there was a chance I could one day be with you, have happiness again...it kept me going whenever a roadblock popped up."

"No one else could bring me the type of happiness you have." He ran his fingers through her hair as his other hand urged her even closer to him. "I've been miserable without you."

She glanced at the tv and her eyes widened at what was paused on the screen. "Is that my--why are you watching this?"

Thomas grabbed the remote and turned it off. He didn't know how to answer her. How did he explain that it was both a penance and a blessing? He was able to see her. Hear her voice. Imagine it ending differently. Then it revealed his greatest mistake that cost him everything.

She saw the torment on his face and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She nudged his head on her shoulder, gently smoothing his hair in a slow, repetitive fashion. His muscles relaxed at her touch. He placed his arms around her waist, closing his eyes when she kissed his forehead.

"Don't leave." He choked out. "Don't leave me again."

She pressed her lips against his head. "I won't. I promise."

Her tender touch and warmth caused his body to succumb to the exhaustion he had been fighting.

Amanda was able to scoot down on the couch beside him and smiled when he tightened his arms around her. Her hair was caught under his head and he was snoring in her ear. Her joy at being back in his arms made her thankful that she couldn't turn over or get comfortable. She was where she had wished to be every moment of the past year.

The next day, she sat up with a start. Thomas was gone. She looked around and relaxed when she realized she was in his house and not in her lonely bedroom in the palace. Her lips curved at the blanket that had been tucked around her. She could hear water running upstairs and decided to check her appearance.

She stepped into his hall bathroom and grimaced. Her eyes were swollen with eye makeup smeared from her tears. She searched for a rag and began to scrub her face. She bent over the sink to splash water over it when she felt someone come up behind her. She quickly wiped her face and looked in the mirror.

Thomas had showered and shaved. He pulled her back against his chest and placed his lips on her neck. She bit her lip, thinking how ugly she looked right now, before he turned her head to meet his lips. She slowly ran her hand along his smooth jaw before slipping it into his damp hair.

He lifted his head for a moment and looked into her eyes. "Marry me." He said softly. He pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek. "Please." He pleaded in a hoarse whisper while tracing the shell of her ear with his lips.

She nodded, afraid she would start crying again if she spoke. He smiled at her before his lips landed on hers in a sudden burst of passion. He guided her out of the bathroom without letting her go. She laughed against his lips when they bumped into the back of the couch. He glanced at the stairs and reluctantly released her.

"I should go." She said.

His eyes widened. "What? Why?"

She wrapped her arms around him. "So I can change my clothes and try to not be so hideous looking." She kissed his neck and breathed in his aftershave. "I left my bags at a hotel in case you weren't here or didn't want me to stay."

Thomas lifted her face. His thumbs brushed over her soft skin. He shook his head. "I will always want you with me."

Amanda grinned and kissed him again. "I won't be long."

He pulled her back into his arms. "Don't go." He rested his forehead against hers. "Borrow some of my clothes and stay here. I can find someone to pick your bags up for you and bring them here." He ran his hands up and down her arms. "Stay with me. Please."

"Why do you make it so impossible to leave?" She muttered kissing him.

He smiled at her before pulling her upstairs. He found an old t-shirt that had been a favorite of hers to steal along with some pajama pants. She set the clothes down and started his shower. He leaned against the counter, watching her remember where he kept everything. She paused and held up a bottle in surprise.

"You still have my shampoo?" She blushed as she realized that this might be another woman's.

Thomas took the bottle and opened it up. He sniffed the coconut aroma and set it in the shower for her. "I love that smell because it reminds me of you."

"So it's not--never mind. It isn't any of my business." She went to his closet for a washcloth and towel.

Thomas stopped her. "I haven't been with anyone since you."

Her lips parted in surprise. "Neither have I."

Now it was his turn to stare in surprise. "You and Liam didn't..." Did he really want to know that answer?

"Never." She stated emphatically. "We viewed our marriage as a means of extra time to spend on fixing what Liam's father had broken. Liam is my best friend. He listened to me and encouraged me about you and I did the same for him when he talked about Riley. That is the only kind of love we had."

Thomas shook his head in wonder while pulling her close. "I keep waiting to wake up and discover this is nothing but a dream."

Amanda rested her head against his shoulder. "Stop trying. I don't want to wake up back in Cordonia." She sighed into his kiss before playfully pushing him out. "Let me try and look a little better."

He smiled and asked her where her bags were. After taking down the information, he left her to make the necessary calls. While making some coffee and trying to find something edible for breakfast, he watched Liam's speech.

He had never seen Liam so happy, so at peace, as he held Riley's hand and explained everything. He thanked Amanda for her being his partner in helping him obtain his true happiness. His smile turned tender as he told the press that she had left to check on her own happy ending and that he hoped it wasn't too late.

"Lady Amanda will have my eternal gratitude for sacrificing so much to help me in what seemed an impossible situation. Her steadfastness and unwavering optimism is what kept my hope alive." Liam explained.

Thomas braced his hands on the counter with the realization that all was turning out like he wanted. He had made it through a year of hopelessness. His love was here in his very home. Upstairs. Back in his life for good.

He looked down at her arms that came around him. He turned and smiled at seeing her in his clothes. She brushed her damp hair back behind her ear and laughed at her appearance. He told her she never looked lovelier than she did in his kitchen, in his clothes. He leaned down and kissed her when she said his name.

There lips met again and again as they pressed against each other. Thomas leaned down and picked her up. Ignoring her squeals of protest to be put down, he managed to carry her upstairs and put her down carefully in his bed. He stretched out next to her and began to show her how much he had missed her, how grateful he was to have her back.

Tears came to her eyes with every tender, reverent touch. He continually told her she would never understand how much he loved her as he pressed his lips to every part of her body. His eyes met hers as he reached that bliss filled moment of hearing his name in her breathless voice.

She closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest in the aftermath, his steady heartbeat lulling her in a light sleep. Thomas continued to run his fingers along her skin in slow caresses. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head when she made a contented sound.

She turned her head to look at him. "Thank you for letting me stay here with you." She said softly. “I have needed to be near you.”

He paused in his caress and stared into her eyes. "You have to stay. I can't live without my heart."