#if they for a second think that liam would have been petty enough to enjoy the idea of all of his friends stopping in their tracks forever

[holyshit]

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[xxrainbow-princessxx]

Tension - Leo x Isabella (NSFW 🍋🍋)

This is 18+ - please do not read if uncomfortable!!  Isabella and Leo meet after splitting a few months previously. Will either one of them make it difficult for the other?

Tagging: @drakewalkerfantasy​ @lorirwritesfanfic​ @lorircreates​ @desireepow-1986​ @debramcg1106​ @liam-rhys​ @rainbowsinthestorm​

“Sí, Your Excellency, we are so pleased to invite you to our humble Kingdom...” Isabella giggled, her cheeks were slightly flushed as her warm, welcoming smile glistened. There she was standing in a room of foreign dignitaries, nobility and Royalty; her thick, long, dark raven locks cascaded down her shoulders and back, framing her heart shaped face as she beamed. Isabella wore a black and white, fitted, short Chanel pencil dress which hugged ever inch of her petite, curvy figure. Her eyes shimmered under the crystal chandeliers, reflecting the small speckles of honey that decorated her dark chocolate brown eyes. The Crown Princess easily entertained her father’s guests with her quick wit and dry humour. With her fluttering, long dark eyelashes, the petite brunette was enchanting, knowing full well that with a well timed glance, she could have any man wrapped around her finger and underneath that 5ft 2” facade was a well versed, unnerved and ruthless negotiator; always one step ahead.

Laurentia was hosting a trade conference; the Princess was due to address the delegates and conduct meetings for her father to build the relationships of their allies and review their current terms. The Princess narrowed her almond eyes whilst she stared out towards the crowd; every single one of them were either a narcissist, playboy or had a inferiority complex and Isabella could very quickly work out their psyche; playing them like a violin at their own game. For every lie that she told them, they would tell her three in response; the more they underestimated her, the less she cared and the more pleasure the petite brunette had in making it more painful without the other party realising. Unfortunately for Leo and Liam; Constantine felt it an important lesson for the two Cordonian Prince’s to attend in his absence. “Your Royal Highness...” quipped a woman of similar age to Isabella holding an iPad documenting the Crown Princess’ schedule, “The East Wing drawing room is ready for you...” With a warm smile, the twenty year old Princess nodded, “Gracias Jimena...”

As Isabella walked across the cream marble floors, her Louboutin heels clicked, head buried in an iPad until she saw a familiar figure across the room. In an evening where she had forced laughter laughter and faked smiles; the Princess’ eyes darkened that little bit more as she caught the Cordonian Crown Prince standing casually with a champagne flute in his hand. “Leo...” Liam began to sigh, “Come on... we need to...” Leo quietly stood as he watched Isabella, exchanging her gaze before she returned to her IPad without a second glance in his direction. Shoving his hands into his navy suit trouser pockets, Leo swallowed hard. He hadn’t expected to feel the way he did. Their split was still raw after three months, the petite brunette had enough of Leo’s womanising ways after he was caught with an Italian Countess and the Princess finally had enough, no longer willing to put up with the drama. Isabella knew she deserved better. Biting down on his lip, Leo was deep in thought until he felt Drake’s hand patting his shoulder, “You ok big guy?” Leo shrugged his shoulders quietly, “Yeah...” he sighed before running his fingers through his sandy blonde hair, “I really shouldn’t be here...”

Leo and Drake made the bar their temporary home as Liam disappeared to discuss Cordonian affairs with the Crown Princess. During the flight, Leo and Liam both agreed due to particular circumstances, it would be best for Liam to do all the talking and for Leo to stay out of Isabella’s way; essentially Leo was there to be seen but not heard. Leo raised the crystal tumbler, staring at the dark caramel coloured liquid that swirled around with a simple flick of the wrist. The hypnotising pattern distracted him whilst Drake quietly savoured the smoky whiskey, enjoying the warm, burning liquor pass his lips. Tilting his head, Drake noticed at the corner of his eye Liam emerging into the atrium, elbowing Leo to get his attention, “Shit...” Drake quietly spoke under his breath, “Looks like things didn’t go too well...” Liam was seething, his jaw was clenched tightly as he stormed through the crowd towards his brother and Drake. It wasn’t in Liam’s nature to allow a negotiation to the better of him or let someone get under his skin but his face told a thousand stories.

“She’s a f...” Liam took a deep breath, before straightening his suit jacket as Leo’s eyes narrowed slightly, “What happened?” Scornfully, Liam swiped the whiskey that rested under Leo’s nose instantly downing the liquid, groaning as he shook his head before slamming the tumbler onto the table. Liam ran his hand down his face slowly, rubbing his face before his eyes met Leo’s, “We lost everything, she won’t renegotiate terms... Father will be furious...” Leo began to frown, pushing his brother for an answer, “What do you mean... everything?! Including the port licenses?” Liam began to sigh heavily, “...goods, excise, port licenses... we effectively cannot trade with Laurentia or sell Cordonian goods here...” Leo pursed his lips, twisting his mouth as he sat deep in thought trying to piece together what to do next. He knew that this wasn’t business, but it was personal. Pushing out his chair; Leo stood tall, pulling on the arms of his suit jacket. The Crown Prince’s sea green eyes flared with rage, “She’s not going to get away with this!”

Liam grabbed his brother’s arm, “Leo...” he spoke under his breath, “Don’t... just let it go... you’ll just make this worse...” Leo pulled his arm back angrily as he spat, “She’ll not make us a laughing stock!” With a furrowed brow, Leo marched towards Isabella’s meeting room barging through the door as the Princess sat with her feet propped up against the table and her filing her long, crimson red almond shaped nails, “What the fuck are you playing at?!” Leo barked, slamming the door behind him. Isabella didn’t budge; holding out her hand as she tilted her head slightly to the left to check her manicure. The Crown Princess clicked her tongue as she finally spoke, a faint smile grew across her full, supple lips hidden from Leo’s view, “It’s not like Cordonia brings anything to the table...” Leo’s face reddened in frustration, smacking his hands onto the desk that Isabella had her legs and feet upon, “Don’t make enemies here Isabella! I am not in the fucking mood!” Leo growled towards her, he was incensed. The Laurentian Princess finally turned her head slowly, her dark chocolate brown eyes barely narrowed, unphased by Leo’s outburst as she lowered her legs towards the floor and stood up.

As she walked towards the other side of the desk, Isabella folded her arms as she began to speak, her thick Laurentian accent echoed within the quiet room, “Señor Rys... you must understand...” she began to smirk slightly knowing she had the upper hand, “...The world does not revolve around you... and for you to think that I care...” she began to giggle, “...is simply laughable...” Isabella surveyed Leo’s demeanour carefully, pushing a little more for her own entertainment with her taunts, “Are you afraid of going home to Papa with empty pockets?” Isabella pouted before coyly smiling, “Oh well...” she quipped shrugging her shoulders, “... that’s not my problem...” Isabella was cold and calculated; Leo knew the Princess has a wicked temper, but not where she would risk a whole Kingdom because of a grudge. Rolling his eyes, Leo snapped, “Stop being so fucking petty...” he began to bark, “...I know I fucked up... I know that I hurt you but don’t take it out on Cordonia... don’t be a complete bitch and drag innocent people into this... you know the Kingdom relies on port licenses and export from Laurentia!”

The petite brunette sucked in her cheeks unimpressed as Leo continued to scold her, “Grow up Isabella!” The Princess felt her rage building, her glaring eyes burned with anger as she closed the distance between her and Leo, “How dare you speak to me like that!” She spat, “I’m not the one who needs to grow up Leo! You come here, expecting me to be nice to you? I have been cordial to you... I’ve put up with the tabloids, the other women, helping you where I could... and I...” she stopped herself for a moment, Isabella no longer was shouting but her lowered tone was still as cut throat, “....was the only one who ever stood by you... and you treated me like an object...” her nose scrunched up in disgust, “and to think... I thought I loved you once... You’re the one who needs to fucking grow up!” Isabella gritted her teeth as she raised her hand to Leo, only for him to grab her wrist tightly. Isabella’s face glowed a crimson red as she seethed, “I fucking hate you so much!” as she pulled back on her arm.

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife as Isabella glared up towards the Cordonian Crown Prince; her defiance rattling Leo and tipping his already short temper over the edge as she kept cursing him out, “...and you think your all ‘I’m just a regular guy’ bullshit...” the faster she spoke, the stronger her accent became, eventually resorting to her native tongue, “¡Usted me gustaba, pero ahora le detesto!” not giving Leo any opportunity for a come back. Stepping forward, Leo reached out; tangling his fingers through Isabella’s hair, kissing her passionately against her crimson red lips. The pretty brunette felt dizzy as her chest heaved, nearly stumbling in her five inch heels as Leo stepped back. She was speechless. Isabella’s dark doe like eyes blinked, her lashes fluttering in shock whilst Leo awkwardly tried to laugh it off, scratching the back of his head, “Sorry... it’s the only way I know how to keep you quiet...”

Isabella’s almond eyes slowly narrowed as she grabbed Leo’s tie pulling him back towards her causing him to stumble slightly. “Shut the fuck up...” she mumbled under her breath before eagerly kissing him again. The feeling of his lips against hers sent shockwaves down her spine; whilst Leo’s hands traced along her waist, bunching up the hem of her dress in tow. As Isabella placed her arms around his neck, Leo picked her up with ease. Isabella’s legs wrapped around the Crown Prince’s waist as Leo fumbled with documents that lay across the table, firing them everywhere as he placed the Princess roughly on top of the heavy oak table. Leo greedily began to kiss along the Crown Princess’ neck bringing a gentle moan to Isabella’s lips but that’s not what she wanted. Placing her well manicured hands into the top of Leo’s head, she cocked her brow with a mischievous smile, pushing him down onto his knees in front of her.

Leo shook his head, his sandy blonde hair falling back into place as he began to grin as Isabella placed her legs over his strong muscular shoulders. The Princess bit down on her plump crimson red lip as she felt Leo pull her thong to the side, his warm breath teasing her. “I still hate you...” she began to moan as the tip of Leo’s tongue began to taste her, flicking against her folds and aching mound as Isabella’s fingers traced through his sandy blonde hair. Feeling her rocking against him, Leo began to smirk pulling the petite brunette forward, his fingers teasing her sweet tasting entrance. He slowly pushed two fingers in; both of them finding their rhythm, moving in unison. Grabbing onto his hair, Isabella seductively moaned Leo’s name, “Leo... I’m going to...”

A knock against the door interrupted them both, Leo tried to pull back but Isabella tightened her legs, “I’m not finished!” She shouted, her chest heaving as Isabella could feel her climax building. Leo had never seen her so demanding, but he loved it. He’d never felt as turned on. “Sí...” she whimpered, “Stay... there...” Leo grinned as he felt her legs shaking against him, he moved his arms, holding her thighs tightly so she couldn’t move. With a groan, Isabella came, smiling. Slowly releasing her legs from around Leo, he leaned backwards taking a deep breath. “Kitten...” Leo cooed with a smirk as he stood, “You still taste amazing...” The Princess’ cheeks were flushed a rosy pink as she fixed the hem of her dress, before being interrupted by another knock. “Don’t answer...” Leo begged, “You’re killing me here!” adjusting himself for comfort.

“Princess you need to be ready in 10 minutes...”

“Sí!” Isabella shouted back towards the staff, before biting down on her lower lip, picking up her iPad before jumping down off of the table top, handing it to Leo smugly, “I told you it was never personal...” Leo’s sea green eyes looked through the file Isabella gave him. His brow began to furrow, “Where did you get this? This can’t be true!” Awkwardly, Isabella began to sigh, “GDP is dropping fast... Liam stormed out before I could say anything and then you accuse me of making a 15% drop personal...” Isabella took the iPad back from Leo, slowly closing it over, “Maybe you and your brother should stop jumping to conclusions and look closer to home...” walking past Leo, Isabella grinned to herself, “Thanks for the fun... but...” she turned and looked at him over her shoulder, “I still don’t like you...” leaving the Crown Prince behind.

Leo stood looking around the empty room, awkwardly running his fingers through his hair trying to understand what had just happened. “Damn... did she just?” he murmured to himself before chuckling and raising his brow, “Fuck...” Leo slowly began to smile, coming to a self realisation that the Brunette had played him at his own game.

[let-it-raines]

Not Your (soul)Mate {1/?}

Killian Jones doesn’t like the idea of soulmates. He sees how happy his friends are with theirs, but he still doesn’t like the idea, not when he’s found love and lost it time and time again only to still not know his sign. He has no markings on his skin, no voices in his head, but then one day he meets Emma Swan and everything changes. Because, well, he may not have ink on his skin to tell him who to love, but the very first time that he hears Emma’s voice he knows that she’s the one for him. Then again, that could simply be his desire talking. After all, for every word she speaks, he becomes aroused. 

It’s not the worst thing in the world to be incredibly attracted to a beautiful woman, but things aren’t that simple when she doesn’t have any interest in being his soulmate. 

He’s screwed. And not in the good way. 

Rating: Mature (mostly for jokes now and for...other things later)

A/N: Hello, friends! It’s me coming at you with more words! This time they’re of the supernatural variety for @cssns with *gasp* a soulmate fic. It’s a fun one guys. Seriously. It’s an absolutely ridiculous concept (soulmates + aroused by each other’s voices), but I’m having fun writing it! I’ve got eight chapters written so far, and I’m itching to share them with you! 

A special shoutout to @captainsjedi for her incredible artwork and for being my number one cheerleader as these words were dragged out of me. I feel super honored for her to have made this art for my story! And thank you to the organizers for doing such great work! So, everybody ready? 😁

Found on AO3 | Here |

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @dreameronarooftop15 @searchingwardrobes @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @artistic-writer @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @thejollyroger-writer @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81@thejollyroger-writer @xellewoods @cssns

-/-

One.

Two.

Three.

It’s the pattern he keeps tapping against his thigh as he sits at his desk, the clock on the wall ticking loud enough for him to hear. If he’s busy enough, it’s silent. But when he has time to idle and not focus on something in particular, when he’s anxious to get to go home, he can hear each individual tick as the seconds and minutes pass by. He’s always been sensitive to sounds, the quietest of whispers sometimes equivalent to yelling directly in his ear, but over the years, he’s learned to block the sounds out, to control how voices and taps and screeches affect him.

His clock is driving him insane.

He wants to go home.

And it’s not because he hates his job or anything. Sure, some days it’s like actual torture, nails on a chalkboard multiplied by at least seventeen, especially with the sensitivity of his ears, but most of the time he enjoys designing boats, ships, and the like. He enjoys working with Liam every single day and getting to draw up someone’s dream vessel like he often did as a child when he had nothing more than a pencil and a notebook of battered paper. Really, his job is a way to make his childhood dreams become a reality but in a financially responsible way.

For him. Not for the people who buy custom boats.

He likely wouldn’t enjoy it if he didn’t make any money. Designing boats is a hell of a lot of fun, but he does so enjoy having an apartment (some of the American terms have integrated into his vocabulary by now it seems) to go home to and food to eat. Honestly, he likes tea far too much to not be able to afford it.

How stereotypically British is he?

It doesn’t even matter. He likes tea, and he won’t let anyone try to convince him otherwise. His cabinet in his kitchen keeps him supplied with caffeine, and if it’s all arranged by size of bag and flavor, no one has to know that. He doesn’t live with anyone, so it’s completely fine.

Liam would make fun of him for ages if he knew of all of Killian’s little tendencies and specificities on how to run his life. Liam already has too much fun teasing him about the binders and books on his shelves in his office, but really, of all of the places to be organized, why not in the office? It’s not his fault that Liam lives in a disorganized mess.

Once a Navy man, always a Navy man doesn’t quite hold true when it comes to one half of the team at The Jewel: A Boating Design Company. He was never sold on the name, but it was Liam’s idea so he went along with it. And the odd name hasn’t seemed to keep any clients away, so it’s obviously worked out.

He still wants to go home.

And technically he could. Technically he’s a boss here and could go home whenever he wants, but he doesn’t like to leave before six. It’s bad business, and it’s never a bad thing to keep his mind focused on work. He’s always got a million thoughts whirling around in his head, and focusing on work keeps him grounded.

But today is a different day. Today is difficult for him. It’s an anniversary of sorts, but it’s not the good kind. It’s not roses (or sunflowers because in his opinion, roses are overrated) and wine and beautiful jewelry over a nice dinner with small servings when all people really want is to sit at home and eat pizza on the couch. No, it’s an anniversary of loss.

Of loss that’s not as final as death, and yet it still has its own particular sting that tends to linger. It’s a loss in his life that he’s felt many a time, but this one, this particular woman, well, her loss stung the most.

Her loss stings the most.

And it’s all because of the universe and its twisted sense of fate. He doesn’t mean that in a “weird shit happens” kind of way. He means that in the universe is a piece of shit that has lives decided before the people who live them are even born. It doesn’t matter what you do or how you live. The universe is always standing at the plate ready to throw a curveball and strike you out.

One strike.

Two strikes.

Three strikes.

You’re out.

Soulmate.

Or soul mate with two words. The universe has everything predestined, but apparently, they couldn’t decide on words in dictionaries and whether or not it was one combined word or two separate words. And that’s just scratching the surface of language and grammar, and he only speaks English and a tiny bit of French. Things just get more complicated when you move beyond that.

But that’s not the point. He can worry about grammar on another day. Right now he’s thinking about the unfortunateness of soulmates (soul mates…nope, he’s just going to decide it’s one word for him) and just how completely screwed up it all is.

No one really knows how the human race figured out that there are two people who are perfectly matched up in every single way. It doesn’t mean there aren’t fights and arguments and petty squabbles over who did the dishes or turning the air conditioner up too high. It simply means that somewhere out there, there’s a person who, when it counts, matches up to you so well that the universe has decided to they are your person.

They are the Christina Yang to your Meredith Grey.

(Yes, he’s watched Grey’s Anatomy, and no, he is not ashamed...of seasons one through six. It gets a little murky after that.)

But what happens if your soulmate dies? What happens if you never meet them? What happens if you fall in love with someone only to find out that their sign or their mark or their soul doesn’t at all match up with yours? What happens if you love someone so deeply that you don’t think your heart can take it anymore, and they leave you because the words written across their ankle are not also written across yours?

What happens if you don’t have words written at all?

He doesn’t. He doesn’t have the words. He doesn’t have any kind of indication as to how to find this so-called perfect match of his. He has no idea.

And he doesn’t need to ask the question of what happens when you love someone who is not your soulmate because he knows. He knows that the love can be real and deep and true, and yet the moment that person finds their matching mark, suddenly things start to crumble and fall apart. Questions begin to be asked, and there are no answers. There are no answers that are correct anyhow. It’s as if you’re taking one of those standardized tests where all four answers are correct, but you have to choose the one that’s the most correct.

Bullocks.

That’s the most ridiculous thing in the world, and yet he’s taken the standardized tests. He had to, but that’s really not the point.

(Also, he wonders if soulmate magic is real, are other types of magic real? Is Harry Potter based off of something true? Could he have gone to Hogwarts?)

Milah found her soulmate, and it wasn’t him. She loved him, but she let him go. And he cannot begrudge her for it. No, she’s doing what will truly make her happy, and he wants her to be happy. She deserves it.

He just wishes that it had been him.

The universe apparently had other ideas.

And four years later, he still doesn’t know his mark.

Four years later, he still loves her even if he shouldn’t, even if he knows he should have moved on.

Liam could hear Elsa’s thoughts at night when he was lying down to sleep. It wasn’t in his dreams, though he has heard of those, but simply once the darkness fell outside. They’d known each other in their thoughts since they were children, a love predestined and predetermined that found its way to life despite the countries that were spread out between them. He’s always been jealous of his older brother for a lot of things, but knowing who his love is and getting to know her for his entire life, that may be the thing which fills him with the most envy.

He’s not even sure that he wants to know who his soulmate is, but when he thinks of his brother and the happiness of his life with his wife and his children, he wonders how two people so genetically similar could have such different paths in life.

Robin’s had been a simple tattoo on his forearm. He knew that all he needed was to find his match, and even though it took into his mid-thirties, he did.

Mid-thirties are truly not old – especially since he himself just turned thirty five – but in a society that is obsessed with love and procreation, Robin might as well have been a lonely elderly man with no chance at love…and Robin’s a man. It’s much worse for women, which is fundamentally unfair. But he’s a designer of boats, not a designer of the universe, so he can’t exactly fix that.

Will, well, Will’s soulmate sign is one that Killian is rather fond of if he’s honest. He found Belle because he’d started spending time in a library, and whenever he would touch certain books, fingerprints would start glowing. They were small, dainty things, so he knew that they weren’t his. But the prints glowed, and as he moved throughout the library, he noticed that every book had fingerprints that glowed. And thus he found Belle, the librarian, and even though they don’t seem to match up, they do.

Everyone he knows is living life with someone they’re supposed to be with, happiness and issues all combined, and he’s…not.

He doesn’t think his life will suddenly become perfect if he were to meet this mystery woman. He doesn’t. His life is wonderful. He loves his friends and family. He loves his job and his hobbies. He loves his life.

Today is simply a hard day.

Today is simply a day of loss.

But tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow he’ll go back to normal, and he won’t feel the loss of his love so much.

As much.

“Hey, did you get the Santos order?”

“Shit,” he mumbles, jumping in his seat at Ariel’s voice. He knows that she likely spoke at a normal volume, but he wasn’t focusing and had zoned out. Her voice startled him. It doesn’t help that she takes pleasure in annoying him. “Sorry, love. You surprised me.”

“I knocked three times there, Jones,” she sighs, walking into his office and dropping a note down on his desk. “I know it’s late in the day and all, but you’re really zoning out.”

“That is the pot calling the kettle black, A,” he laughs, rolling forward in his chair to look at the note she has, her chicken scratch written across the notecard. “You zone out at lunch thinking about how someone invented the fork.”

“It’s true. You’ve got to think about things like that. You okay though? You’ve got that pensive, brooding look all over your face.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes before looking up at her and stretching his hands up behind his head, the small ache pleasant. “I’m going to fire you for someone who doesn’t know me as well.”

“My severance package would be fantastic, so you can go ahead and do that. But I also know you’d be lost without me, so that’s not going to happen. No one else in the world knows which pens of yours not to use.”

“That can be taught.”

“Yeah, but no one else is going to accept your weirdness.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. Anyways,” she sighs, sitting down in the chair across from his desk and crossing her leg over her knee, “Eric and I are having a dinner at our house on Friday night, and you’re coming.”

He raises an eyebrow while he tries to keep his lips from curling up into a smile because he knows exactly why they’re having a dinner. She’s been his assistant for three years, and somewhere along the way she became one of his closest friends. She also drives him mad with how she doesn’t listen to him at all.

“Are you not even asking? Just demanding?”

She shrugs and flicks a speck off of her pants. “I’m telling you. It’s at seven, lots of our friends are coming, and you will be there if I have to drag you kicking and screaming.”

He hums and taps his fingers against the desk, the sound of his clock no longer in his earshot. “Fine. I think maybe I can be persuaded by some free food that I know is really a dinner party to announce your pregnancy.”

Her lips part, jaw nearly dropping, before she snaps it shut and gets up, walking over to him and knocking him upside the head. “You’re an asshole. That’s supposed to be a secret. How the hell did you know?”

“This note that you just gave me has baby names and a gynecologist appointment on it and not the Santos order.”

“Pregnancy brain is a real thing,” she huffs before slapping his head again and walking out of the room.

“Congratulations,” he shouts, leaning forward in his chair and smiling to himself. It’s a day of loss, but not everything is bad. It’s also a day of life.

He does spend the night drowning himself in a glass of rum, but it’s just the one filled a little too close to the brim. And he doesn’t spend entirely too much time thinking about Milah and all of the women and heartbreak that have come before her. He only spends what he would consider an acceptable amount of time, and if it was most of the night, no one has to know that but him.

Those are the perks of living alone.

Well, that and eating food in nothing but his boxers while watching reruns of whatever the hell he wants.

The Office.

It was The Office. He spends far too much time watching The Office and also…in his office. But that’s something else. That’s work, and it’s not filled with quite the same amount of comedy. Though he is thinking about putting Liam’s stapler in some jello. That’s not as funny in real life, but he’s not exactly sure if he’s desperate enough to wrap up Liam’s entire office in wrapping paper.

It’d have to be some birthday paper or something. It’s April, so Christmas paper likely wouldn’t work. Of course, it’s April, so Christmas paper would likely be on sale. This is sounding better and better, but he’s not going to do it. He’s going to keep on going with his life and make sure that Ariel isn’t setting him up on a date at this dinner party he’s been at for thirty minutes like he’s pretty sure she’s doing with her friend Jane.

Amazingly enough, the existence of soulmates does not keep people from setting him up on blind dates.

You’d think there would be at least one perk.

Besides the whole perfect match thing and all.

That’s supposedly a perk.

“Would you excuse me for just one minute, love?” he asks Jane, flashing her his most sincere smile and squeezing her shoulder before walking toward his brother who is talking to Will and Robin in the corner of the backyard.

“BJ,” Will greets, grinning from ear to ear as Killian shakes his head.

“You cannot call me that, Scarlett,” he groans. His protests don’t matter at all, but he can hope. He can hope that one day one of his friends will listen to him.

It’s a pipe dream.

“Well, baby Jones isn’t quite as funny as BJ.”

“You have the humor of a fifteen-year-old lad.”

“At least I’m not boring like you,” he scoffs before he takes another sip of his beer. “How’s your little date going over there?”

“So you can tell that it’s a set up?”

“Little brother,” Liam sighs, clapping his hand down on his shoulder, “you scratched your ear enough times for us to know you were nervous. Plus Ariel told us. She was practically jumping out of her skin with excitement.”

“Younger. I’m younger, and of course she did. Jane is…she’s a nice woman, but I’m not really in the mood for another date.”

Suddenly his head starts pounding, sounds muting for a moment before he hones in on a laugh, a laugh that has his skin heating and gooseflesh rising over his arms as he only focuses in on it before all of the other sounds come back to him, the laugh fading into the background. He doesn’t know what the hell just happened, but he’s not going to focus on it when he’s got to deal with his brother and his best mates being undeniable assholes.

Tuning things out has always kind of been his thing anyways.

“It doesn’t have to be a date,” Robin helpfully supplies, “but I think the lass likes you, so I’d turn her down easy.”

“There’s nothing to turn down.”

“She might not know that.”

“Anyways,” he sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, “how long do you think A is going to drag this along until we get to eat dinner?”

“I’d say until she finishes talking to her friends over there.” Liam points to a group of women standing on the other side of the deck. He recognizes Ariel and her friend Mary Margaret. He’s been to her house and met her husband. David? He thinks his name is David and that he’s a detective. And obviously he recognizes his sister-in-law, but he doesn’t recognize two of them. One of them is tall, her legs stretching on for miles, and she’s got straight brunette hair that falls down her back with the tips of it covered in red. The other woman is shorter, but not necessarily short, and her blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail so that he can see the openness of her dress as it dips down her bare back and rests just above the curve of her waist. He doesn’t know her at all, and he wonders how. Ariel may simply work with him, but she’s made him such a part of her personal life that he feels like he knows all of her friends.

Then again, he didn’t know Jane, so obviously she has several friends she wants to announce her pregnancy to that he’s never met. They’re all ships passing in the night.

Of course, it’s not quite night yet and they’re definitely not ships, but his point still stands.

Or sails.

He can design a ship that would work for this purpose.

He has too much time on his hands.

All of the sounds mute again before the same laugh as before comes back, but this time he knows exactly where the sound is coming from. It’s coming from the blonde who’s talking to Ariel, and he can feel his skin heating up again, the flesh pricking and hair rising across his body as a shiver runs through him. He knows this feeling. He knows it well. It’s the start of something that he usually finds pleasant, but it’s not something that he finds pleasant while standing in a public place with all of his friends around.

Will may have the humor of a teenager, but apparently Killian has the uncontrollable sex drive of one.

Shit.

This is not good.

He needs to think of the government or his grandmother or people who think Hawaiian shirts can be worn to the office as casual wear when they live in Maine because his jeans are rather tight and he’s afraid that nothing can be hidden when he’s feeling a little excited.

Or a lot excited.

When he should not be excited at all.

Oh hell. He’s aroused. He’s not excited. He’s aroused, and there is absolutely no reason for it. Does he even need a reason? Probably not. Still though. This is a problem he doesn’t really want to have right now at his assistant’s barbecue to announce that she’s created a spawn of her loins.

Those are the only loins he should be thinking about.

Not Ariel’s loins, though. That is…this is all too much for him.

“Hey, lover boy,” Will whistles, and suddenly the laughter is fading away so that he can focus on the sound of Will’s whistle and the wind that’s causing the leaves on trees to rustle and mix in with all of the conversations that are happening, “you’ve got to stop staring at Emma or she will kick your ass all the way back to England.”

Emma.

“Who is that?” he ponders, reaching to scratch his beard. He should have shaved this morning, but he didn’t have time to clean his scruff up. “Emma? You said her name was Emma?”

“Aye,” Will confirms, his fingers tapping along the glass of his bottle and picking up the condensation. “Emma Swan. She lives with Belle. I’m bloody terrified of her sometimes, but she’s fun.”

“Why are you terrified of her?”

“Because she’s a cop. A detective, I think, and I’ve seen first hand just how good she is at kickboxing.”

“Why? Did you beat your ass for saying something dumb?”

Will rolls his eyes as both Robin and Liam chuckle, even if they try to muffle the sound. “I may have said something a bit unsavory one night, and she may have literally kicked my ass for it. But I’m on the straight and narrow path now.”

“Huh. So she did what we’ve all been wanting to do for years now. I like her.”

“Why don’t you go talk to her?” Liam prods, wrapping his arm around Killian’s shoulder and slapping him harder than he should. “Are you scared to talk to another girl? Is this going to be like teenage Killian who can’t flirt with more than one woman in a day without being terrified of having to do it again?”

“Sod off.”

“I’m telling you,” Liam starts, but Killian moves out from under his arm and walks away from the group of them so that he can go inside and get a glass of water, not really interested in hearing Liam teasing him about his childhood. It doesn’t bother him, but he’s heard it all before and doesn’t really need to hear about it again. It’s still been A Week, and there’s only so much teasing about his relationships that he can take when he’s still mourning the loss of one.

Once he gets into the kitchen, he grabs a cup off the counter and fills it with ice and water from the fridge, the sound of the ice machine drowning everything out so that he doesn’t hear someone come in behind him. He doesn’t hear her, so he’s got no idea that she’s within a foot of him when he turns around and hits her shoulder, the cup of ice cold water in his hand spilling all over the front of her dress.

Of Emma’s dress.

Of Emma’s white dress.

Because it’s the woman who he was just admiring who he spilled a drink on.

“Holy shirt-balls that’s cold.”

He wants to laugh at her words, at her The Good Place reference, but then it’s happening again. His skin is heating, his temperature rising by several noticeable degrees, and he can feel the hair on his body begin to rise while his jeans tighten. How are his jeans still tightening? His erection can’t get any worse.

Holy shirt-balls indeed.

What the hell is happening to him?

“I’m sorry, love,” he stutters, trying to focus his hearing so that everything won’t be so heightened, but then his eyes glance down at the way that the material of her dress is clinging to her skin, the edges molding to her breasts, and everything gets worse. So, so much worse. He loves women. He’s never denied that. But hell, he should not be having this kind of reaction. This is not some kind of bad porn movie.

This is not some kind of raunchy romantic comedy either.

This is his life.

She’s got fantastic breasts.

Nope. Nope. Nope. He can’t be thinking that. He shouldn’t be thinking that. Something is happening to him, and he needs it to stop.

“I mean, I would say it’s not your fault, but you did spill the water on me,” she laughs, grabbing onto her dress and squeezing the water out a bit as she makes her way further into the kitchen to grab a towel and wipe herself down.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Again. You’re Emma, right?”

She’s still dabbing at her dress when she looks up at him and raises an eyebrow. Her cheeks are flushed red, and he’s not sure if it’s from spending the evening outside or from the embarrassment of him spilling water on her. But she’s got these beautifully flushed cheeks and light emerald eyes that can’t seem to focus on him, her gaze constantly changing.

With how uncomfortable his jeans are right now, he’s honestly kind of wishing that he had ice water dumped on him.

Seriously. What the hell is happening to him?

“Um, yeah. How do you know that?”

“Will told me. I’m…we’re old friends. Killian. Killian Jones.”

“Emma Swan,” she sighs, continuing to dab at her dress while he looks away. He has to look away or he’s going to do something inappropriate by anyone’s standards. Something is happening to him, to his mind and his body, and he needs it to stop right now. “You know, if you wanted to talk to me, all you had to do was introduce yourself, no spilled water involved. And if you wanted to see my tits, well, I should warn you that I carry around a gun for a living, and I don’t take too kindly to things like that.”

“I can promise you that wasn’t my intention.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at me right now?”

“Swan, if I’m honest, it’s because I can see both through and down your dress, and it’s not proper to look no matter how much I want to.”

Holy shit. Why did he just say that?

“Is it hot in here?” Emma asks, changing the subject, and he has never been more thankful for anything in his entire life. Though, really, if she could stop talking, he would be thankful for that too. Her voice is focused in his ears, every word reverberating and spinning around so that he can focus on nothing but her. It’s like her laughter earlier. His body instinctively tuned into it, focused on it, and it caused this same feeling of arousal to base itself at his spine.

And every word she says, makes it worse.

Fuck.

He somehow knows what’s happening, his brain instantly making the connections, and if he could walk out the front door and have never come to this party, he probably would.

Emma Swan is mostly likely his soulmate if the way his senses are picking up are any indication, and every word she says gives him the most inappropriate erection.

Her voice arouses him, and it’s not in a normal way.

Of all the soulmate signs, why this?

Couldn’t he have gotten a damn butterfly tattoo right above his ass instead?

[searchingwardrobes]

Fortunate Son

 Happy Birthday, @superchocovian! I hope your day has been an awesome one! You are a super supportive, wonderful part of this fandom, and I hope you know how much you are appreciated. The lyrics to “Fortunate Son” by Creedence Clearwater Revival have often made me think of Killian Jones, and I have therefore wanted to do a Vietnam-era AU for a very long time. I listened to it on repeat, trying to wake up my muse, and this fic happened. I hope you enjoy these 2,000 words of angst with a happy ending!

When I think about the Vietnam War, I think of the Army, the Marines, maybe the Air Force, but I never think of the Navy. I did a modest bit of research for this fic just to make sure this was half-way realistic, and what I learned blew me away. Yes, the US Navy fought in Vietnam, but it wasn’t in the way we usually think, shooting torpedoes on war ships out at sea. Vietnam really didn’t have those types of ships, so the US Navy had to improvise, creating what became known as the “Brown Navy.” The Vietnam coast is all rice paddies and marshes, and the country is a network of rivers, so the US Navy built these riverboats to patrol the coast, putting Navy seaman up close and personal with the Viet-Cong. These men looked just like we usually think of the US Military in Vietnam, wearing that jungle green, carrying machine guns with bullets strapped across their chests. The thing was, it wasn’t the type of combat they were trained for. Needless to say, Killian would have been messed up just as much as any other Vietnam vet from things he had seen, and Liam most likely would have died a very gruesome death. My mind was honestly blown learning about this, and even though I don’t directly describe these things in this fic, it definitely shaped the tone it’s written in. Can we say angst?

Summary: He was a nobody with nothing. No family, no direction, no future. He didn’t even have a left hand anymore, for God’s sake. And she was the president’s daughter. A Vietnam-era Lieutenant Duckling story.

Rating: M for language, war & drug references, and sexual situations (come on, this is a Vietnam-era fic, what did you expect?)

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @kday426 @teamhook @bethacaciakay @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @shireness-says @let-it-raines @distant-rose @optomisticgirl @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @killian-whump @hollyethecurious @ohmakemeahercules @xhookswenchx @gingerchangeling

 Some folks are born, silver spoon in hand. Lord, don’t they help themselves, oh. It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no senator’s son, no.

The first time they met he was a naïve petty officer who had never seen combat. His brother, who had just made Lieutenant, stood next to him. Elsa had teased them that they were chosen for the photograph because they looked so good in dress uniform. Killian was just cocky enough to know she was probably right, and he hated it. As for Emma, her blond hair was pushed back with a turquoise headband, slightly teased and sprayed like current style dictated. Her sheath dress was a swirl of psychedelic colors and her knee-high leather boots were a bright and shiny white. He could tell by the fake smile plastered on her face that she didn’t want to be there. Neither did he, truth be told. He didn’t want to be a prop in her politician father’s photo-op. He certainly didn’t want to fake charm to a senator’s spoiled daughter, either.

He looked her up and down, unable to deny what a stunning figure she cut in her outfit. She could easily have been an actress or a model. But the slight roll of her eyes irritated him. She was nothing but a spoiled princess being dragged around by her rich and influential daddy. Her mother scowled at her and gave her a subtle jab to the ribs. Killian tried not the laugh, keeping his own mask in place. The serious, intense look of a US Naval Officer.

Senator Nolan posed shaking their hands, then with his arms around them. He seemed like a genuine, caring man, and Liam chatted with him amiably. But didn’t these politicians use their charms to earn votes? Killian had a hard time believing it was genuine.

They gave the family a tour of the base, camera clicking away. Killian’s blood pressure intensified every time he heard the blonde girl’s bored sighs. Right before the Nolans boarded their private plane, the photographer asked for pictures of the Nolan women shaking hands with Lt. and Officer Jones. Liam went first, smiling politely as the camera flashed. Killian was polite as well. To Mrs. Nolan, that is. When he reached for Emma’s hand, however, the rogue in him took over.

Instead of merely shaking Emma Nolan’s hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed it, then winked at her audaciously. She scowled at him and yanked her hand away.

Yet he did note the pink in her cheeks, and he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight. She narrowed her eyes further and crossed her arms over her chest. Her cheeks however, had now deepened to a delightful shade of red. Served the snooty Daddy’s girl right.

 Some folks are born made to wave the flag, ooh, they’re red, white, and blue, and when the band plays, “Hail to the Chief,” ooh, they point the canon at you, Lord. It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no millionaire’s son.

The second time he saw her, he was more bitter and completely broken. Then again, so was she. Gone were the teased hair and go-go boots. In there place was a long, golden waterfall of tangled curls and a billowing hippy dress. Her face was hardened, yet a spark still lit her eyes. How they got her to come, he wasn’t sure, but the light in those jade eyes flashed with intensity as she handed her father each purple heart. Her gaze flickered to the blunted wrist at the end of his left arm, but then quickly rose to meet his eyes. He expected pity, maybe even compassion, but not the look of understanding. Did she recognize him?

“Thank you for your service to your country,” her father said as he pinned the purple heart to the chest of his dress uniform.

They had warned them that the first family likely wouldn’t mingle at the reception, so he was shocked when she was suddenly there at his elbow.

 “We met you before, at the base in Norfolk.”

He blinked, not expecting her to remember.

“Um, yes, yes you did.”

 “You had a brother.” She was fidgeting, grasping the fabric of her dress in her fist.

“Yes.”

She took one tiny step forward. “What happened to him?”

He swallowed, the plate he held in his one remaining hand trembling slightly. “He didn’t come home, I’m afraid.”

“Neither did Graham,” she whispered. He suddenly realized where he had seen that look in her eyes before: in Elsa’s when Liam’s body came home in a flag-draped coffin.

They both had reasons for the loss of innocence in their eyes, the hardness in the set of their jaws. A lost brother, a lost fiancé. It was a common tale. Frantic, desperate sex for just one night was a common tale lately, too. People broken by this war – this conflict that is – trying to fill the empty spaces with something to feel. But he was a nobody with nothing. No family, no direction, no future. He didn’t even have a left hand anymore, for God’s sake. And she was the president’s daughter. The God-damn secret service probably knew they fucked.

The president’s daughter! What the hell had he been thinking? She was gone the next morning, of course. He had expected that. What he hadn’t expected was the note.

Sorry I left. It’s complicated. - Emma

 Ooh, they send you down to war, Lord, and when you ask them, “How much should we give?”, ooh, they only answer “More! More! More!” It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no military son.

The next time he saw her, he was glad five years had gone by. Glad because three of those five he had drowned himself in rum. It could have been worse. He could have been tripping on acid like so many other vets. Could have ended up homeless.

Thank God for Admiral Nemo. He’d come to the squalid apartment he was sharing with Scarlet and Jefferson. Scarlet, who had a worse habit with whiskey than he did with rum. Jefferson, who unfortunately had fallen down the rabbit hole with harder vices. Nemo had practically pried a bottle of rum out of Killian’s hand and dragged him out of there. A year of AA meetings and physical therapy on his arm, and Killian was working alongside Nemo in the private sector. Ships could carry more than troops and weapons, after all.

The day she dropped back into his life, she was dressed professionally, in one of those dresses that looked like a trench coat, and her boots weren’t quite so tall or quite so shiny. Her hair was a bit shorter, the curls softer. Her mouth fell open a little when he walked out of his office, her face turning a shade paler. He smiled at her kindly, gently, trying to assure her that she needn’t be embarrassed. She wasn’t the first grieving woman to tumble into bed with a broken sailor, and she certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Emma had a camera around her neck; she was the photographer Nemo had hired for their new company brochures. Their conversation was brief, polite, and Killian couldn’t help the feeling of loss that washed over him as she began to walk away. Then she paused.

“Killian,” she said, turning around with a smirk on her face, “you look good.”

All he could do was stand there like a complete idiot with a goofy smile on his face.

She found him later, when she was done taking pictures, and he managed to ask her for coffee. Her face went slightly pale again, her eyes going a bit wide, but she said yes. This time, it was her hand that shook as she grasped a mug of hot chocolate. The more he tried to engage her in small talk, the more nervous she seemed.

Finally, he sighed into his own mug of black coffee. “Look, Emma, I think I read this wrong. I was happy to see you again, and was foolish enough I suppose to think fate caused our paths to cross again. But you’re clearly nervous, and I don’t wish to push -”

“No,” she cut him off, “it’s not that.” She took a deep breath, then blurted out, “I had a baby five years ago . . . It’s yours.”

She may as well have punched him in the gut. She babbled on about how she tried to find him, but he’d left the military, so there wasn’t really a way to contact him. Her mother had mentioned pulling some strings with the FBI, but she didn’t want to invade his privacy.

“I hate everything my parents stand for,” she barreled on, “so no way was I letting Big Brother hunt you down.”

She bit her lip as she searched his eyes, and he had a flash of memory. Emma beneath him, long blonde hair splayed out on the pillow, moaning and biting on that full lower lip of hers as she came. He shook his head to clear it.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” she whispered.

 “I’ve thought about that night a hundred times.” Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say. It was probably completely out of context. He held his breath thinking he’d put his foot in his mouth until a smile slowly spread across her face.

“So have I.”

 Some folks inherit star-spangled eyes. It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no fortunate son.

He met Henry for the first time on Emma’s front lawn. He was riding a bicycle on the grass, with no training wheels. He kept falling over into the grass, then jumping right back on again. An elderly woman sat on Emma’s front porch swing, watching over him. The babysitter said her goodbyes, and Emma pulled Killian down on the porch steps to meet his son.

They didn’t tell Henry that night who Killian was. They didn’t tell him the next day either when they took Henry to the beach to look for shells. They didn’t tell him the month after when Killian made them pancakes after staying the night. No moment ever seemed right, until the day the three of them sat on a blanket at the park having a picnic lunch. Killian knew if he was going to use the ring in his pocket, he better let his son in on the truth.

His son. His son and Emma’s.

He still had nightmares sometimes; of men cut down all around him, the muddy marshes turning red with their blood. He still could never forget Liam dying in his arms, choking on blood. So much blood. His dreams were often red with it.

Yet Emma was there when he woke in a cold sweat, and he knew in the deepest part of him that she always would be. His son rested against his chest when he was tired, his brown hair wet with sweat, his limbs loose as jello. Despite the death Killian had seen and been a part of, this innocent child slept peacefully in his arms.

Emma’s tender smile and Henry’s wide and trusting eyes made him hope again, made him believe again. That maybe, just maybe, he was the most fortunate man in the world.

[andy-loves-corgis]

All of The Lights - Ch 1 (TRR AU)

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Basically everybody will, at some point, hook up with each other. but you know my endgame.

Rating: M (language)

Word count: ~2,700 Warning: Read the Prologue! Every chapter has TWO timelines, Before (about a year before the Prologue) and After (two years after the prologue), if you don’t pay attention to that you might get confused!

Chapter 1 - When It Rains

When it rains, you always find an escape, jus running away from all of the ones who love you

BEFORE

The pale sunlight hit the feet of his bed, but he was already awake, Drake Walker liked to wake up early, when just the humming of the workers in the palace were audible through the walls. His way to the kitchen was in quick steps, not paying attention to anything in his way, those walls had long become uninteresting to him.

The smell of baked goods hit him in a warm wave as he opened the door and was greeted by Eleanor, the palace chef, and the radiant face of his sister, Savannah.

 “Good morning, brother!” she exclaimed making his eyebrows knit, Savannah hated waking up early.

“What’s making you so happy at this time in the morning?” he asked sitting with a thump beside her and reaching for a croissant.

“Well, Lady Madeleine invited me for the afternoon tea, and I wanted to finish my new dress to use it there.” She gave him a full-teeth smile.

Drake had lived 2/3 of his 21 years in the palace, and one of the first and toughest things he had learned was about having a seat on the table, he didn’t have one, neither did his 16-year-old sister, they didn’t have one when his father was the head of the Royal Guard, they didn’t have now that his father died protecting King Constantine.

“Why do you care? It’s Madeleine…” he rolled his eyes at her.

“Madeleine is the front runner in this social season and I’m sure she’ll be the next queen along with Prince Leo, so, networking baby!” she stood up still smiling, finishing her orange juice. “She’s the Queen Bee.”

Drake snorted.

“I really don’t care about this pettiness, but Riley is the Queen Bee here, and she invites you to do way more fun stuff.” It was time for Savannah to roll her eyes and pick an apple, turning on her heels. “And yes, I do say this because she’s my friend.”

The girl was halfway through the door when she turned to her brother.

“You say it, because you’re in love with her!”

A piece of croissant hit the closed door, missing her by a second, if there was something his sister enjoyed more than freshly made eclairs, it was messing up with his and Riley’s friendship.

“Walker stop messing up my kitchen.” Eleanor scolded the boy who looked sheepishly at her before grabbing another croissant and leaving the kitchen.

The sky was cloudy, the blanched sun couldn’t be seen anymore, only the imposing grey clouds were above him. Drake started his work on the stables, checking on the horses, it was his last year studying vet in the Royal University of Cordonia, during his teenage years his dream was to become a Royal Guard like his father, there was until all he could have of his father was his tombstone and his signet ring with the royal guard’s crest.

He sighed, resuming checking on Athenna, the morning flowing through the strokes of his brush and scribbling on the horses’ files, by lunchtime his stomach growled so hard he almost missed his phone vibrating in his pocket.

It was Liam asking him about Riley.

“We argued obviously,” he heard the prince’s grunting on the other side of the line. “You know how she is, she just stormed out…”

“And you’re leaving to Lythikos?” Drake tried hard not to roll his eyes.

“My father has business there.” Liam said as if it excused anything.

“Will Olivia be there too?” it sounded way more accusatory than Drake meant.

“Maybe… Anyway, I just need to make sure Riley’s okay”

“Okay, I’ll try and find her before my afternoon class… Yeah, bye” Drake looked at his watch and ran to the kitchens, so he could at least be able to grab a sandwich, maybe two.

Even though it was the end of February, it wasn’t as cold as he thought it would be, after working all morning with the horses he welcomed the chilly breeze while stepping on the battered stone steps of the hill behind the palace.

As he hoped, she was there, sitting on the moist sand, her eyes far, far way, where the clouds kissed the dark blue water.

“Hey, you!” He greeted her, letting his body fall with a thump beside her.

A flush of chocolate locks flooded her face as she was startled by his presence, the long strands cascaded down her back and fell in front of her reddened eyes, she had been crying.

“You’ll give me a heart attack any day now, Drake.” She held her chest catching her breath.

He laughed and threw a paper bag to her.

“Brought you something to eat, so you won’t be crying to death because of Liam.” 

“Fuck Liam” she muttered, opening the bag.

“Not my type” he smirked, opening his plain ham and cheese sandwich.

“My problems go further than Liam making excuses to go and fuck Olivia.” 

Drake’s eyes widened for a second with her remark, but he decided not to fuel her fire, he finished his sandwich in three bites, watching her take tiny bites of hers. She gave up eating and threw him an envelope, he recognized the purple letters after Riley made him run through their whole website a few months back.

New York University

He knew that since she was a kid and saw the purple flags hanging from the buildings of Manhattan, she wanted to go there.

“It’s too heavy to be a rejection letter” he said.

“They want me” she said moving her eyes to her lap, a small smile playing on her lips, that made his chest swell with pride.

“I always knew they would. So, what’s the problem?” He asked, even though he already knew.

“Shall we start with Liam? Who said that if I didn’t want to be with him in the fall, then we should just end things. Or maybe my mother who called me a blood traitor for not wanting to study here?” Her eyes got filled with tears and she sniffed turning her face from him.

“Your dad?” 

She gave a small chuckle, still looking away.

“That old bastard is the only one supporting anything I do”

“Do I need to remind you the hours you spent cockblocking me so I could be filling those forms with you?” He threw his napkin at her and her chuckle grew.

“I deserved your time more than that girl...” she turned to him and stick out her tongue.

He reached to her shoulder and pulled her closer to him, kissing the top of her head.

“Everything will be okay, York.”

They spent the next of his spare minutes looking at the ocean, its fierce waves washing the shore and crashing on the rocks, until Drake got up offering her his hand.

“Hey, I got to go now, don’t do anything stupid today okay?” 

“What are considering stupid in this scenario?” She blinked those blue eyes at him.

“York...” his warning tone made her chuckle.

“Hey, don’t worry, there will be Maddie’s afternoon tea, then I’ll go out shopping with Kiara and we’ll probably get a few drinks at Mounir’s.” She patted his shoulder and got on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

Yep. He knew she would get in trouble. So why was he surprised to be woken up by her call at 3 am?

“What, York?” He grunted, there was a loud noise in the background, she was definitely at a club.

“DO YOU REMEMBER THIS SONG??” She shouted to the phone, she was definitely drunk.

“Riley, where are you?” He rubbed his eyes sitting on the bed.

“I DON’T KNOW BUT THE MUSIC IS GREAT.”

“Is Lars waiting for you?”

“NO. I’M WITH THE BENTLEY”

Shit.

“Send me your location. Now!” He was already up looking for his pants, thanking god that he was alone in his room that night.

She hung up without saying anything else, but a few seconds after he got a message with her location, in five minutes he was already getting an Uber to her location, knowing that she would get in trouble if he asked to any of the drivers or guards about what happened, the air was heavy and he knew it would pour at any moment, he just hoped his driver was fast enough.

Despite the hour, there were still people in line to enter.

“Hey, respect the line!” Someone yelled at him.

But Drake didn’t pay attention, just showing his father’s ID from the Guard’s to the security guy who let him enter without a second glance, Bastien would kill him if he knew about this stunt.

Clubs weren’t his scene at all, the loud music blasting from everywhere, making the floor tremble, but there she was near the bar, like the spotlight followed her in her simple black dress, arms thrown in the air, completely ignoring the guy next to her.

Drake got closer and saw as the guy got closer to her.

“Time’s up, Cinderella!” He got between her and the guy.

“Drake!” She gave him a full drunk smile. “Come on dance with me!”

“Nuh uh” he shook his head. “We’re leaving, give me the keys”

She pouted.

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s almost 4 am and you owe me £15 for the Uber. Say bye to your friend.”

She scowled and waved to the perplexed guy sitting on the stool.

“Party pooper” she grunted.

 He just rolled his eyes and led her out, where the rain was pouring mercilessly on the ground, the line now dissipated, he got shivers thinking about her driving that drunk in the rain. He saw her Bentley parked on the VIP spots a few feet from them an turned back to her.

 “How can you not find your keys in that tiny purse of yours?”

 She glared at him pulling her pink key chain from inside her clutch, when he reached for it, she pulled it back laughing, again he reached for it and she hid her hand on her back, in one step her has so close he could see those hazy blue eyes mocking him up close.

 “If you don’t give me them, I’ll make you walk on the rain.” She blinked with those big fake lashes of her and grunted.

 “You’re no fun”

 He grabbed the fancy keys and ran on the rain to her car, bringing it to the stair where she wobbly walked down to the car.

 They sat in silence for a few minutes, Drake concentrated on the road and Riley fidgeting with her charms bracelet.

 “Thank you for picking me up, Kiara just disappeared with some guy and Madeleine didn’t even wanted to come because of this stupid social season” she rambled, propping one foot on the dash.

 “Don’t come to clubs with your car.” He scolded her. “You have a driver.”

 “You’re funnier than Lars.” She bit her lip to suppress a smile.

 “You just said I’m no fun” a smiled playing on his lips as she cracked a laugh.

 “So, you can imagine how Lars is”

 He chuckled at her remark, he knew he couldn’t stay mad at her, so he enjoyed that moment of laughter.

 Until a bright light blinded him.

 He remembered calling out her name and turning the wheel.

 He remembered the sound of the metal shrieking.

 Then, all was black.

 ***

AFTER

 Drake woke up in a jolt covered in sweat, feeling betrayed by his subconsciousness for making him dream about her.

 Maybe being in Valtoria caused it, as if she was a ghost haunting the place.

 It has been two years since he walked on her hospital room to find her gone, he went for a coffee outside and in 30 minutes her mother got her dispatched to a facility in Switzerland.

 Two year without a single word of her, of course he knew some things, she activated a new account on Instagram, of course Penelope would find that out and share with everyone, it took one ‘like’ from Kiara for the account to be shut down, but he learned about a trip to Thailand to teach English to the locals and, surprisingly, a job as a waitress in New York.

 Then more silence.

 If she didn’t want to be found, he chose to not be the one to look out for her.

The sun was about to rise, and he tried not to think about the countless time they watched it on her state, weather it was as drinking buddies or tangled naked in each other’s arms.

 His loud exhale resounded through his room and he was happy to have slept on the staff wing, so he wouldn’t have to run to her mother, an ever so unpleasant encounter.

 He didn’t know why he felt so moody today, maybe it was that enveloping and dense heat that anticipated a storm. Coffee in hand, he sat on the steps that led to the east garden of the estate, where he could see the menacing grey clouds gather in the horizon.

 The feeling of fur rubbing on his arms startled Drake, if there was something that could make his melancholy go, was that damned corgi.

 “Hey Chance!” the dog wiggled his but to him.

 Chance was the only companion that could make Drake smile on the first few months after Riley’s departure, at least the dog was something her mother was happy to give to him, he has been Drake’s companion ever since.

 Finishing his coffee, he calmly walked to the stables, with chance at his feet, today he would be busy with the last preparations for the upcoming competition, revising the documents, their files and taking care of the pregnant mare.

 I was well past lunch when his phone rang, and he couldn’t help the smirk as he saw the caller.

 “Hey, Cas”

 “Hey! How are you?” her cheerful voice filled his ears. “Has Lady Bitch been a bitch already?”

 “I’m fine, haven’t seen her since I got here, she’s probably at Fydelia. How about you?”

 “Oh, nothing special… Will you be back soon?” he knew she was eager for an answer, but Cassidy had set her mind on taking things very slow with him, his fame certainly preceded him.

 “Two more days, are you missing me already?” he smiled to himself knowing she would be blushing on the other side of the line.

 “You think so highly of yourself, don’t you?” she chuckled. “Oh, I almost forgot, Larry said we could at the bar in a few weeks.”

 “Great, now we can show the things we’ve been working on.” Drake threw his body back on his chair and added in a lower voice. “Can’t wait to be back rehearsing.”

 “I’m hanging up now, Drake Walker” embarrassment present in her tone. “Drive safely back.”

 “I will, see you in two days.”

 Drake threw his phone on the desk and tapped his fingers on the table, the thunders roaring closer and closer now. Cassidy was good to him, the lightness and simplicity that his life never had, he wouldn’t let a ghost ruin it, Riley was now just a memory locked inside of him.

 When the thick droplets started to punch the wood outside the barn, he decided to bury himself in work, in two days he would be out of Valtoria and his head would be back to normal. The rain was so loud outside he could hear Chance whimpering on the first floor, but he didn’t answer when Drake called.

 His phone rang again, now it was Liam, but the rain was making it almost impossible for him to hear.

 “Liam the signal is shit, I can’t hear a thing… no, I didn’t have time to scroll twitter, brother, I’m not the heir to the throne… what? Liam, man, I can barely hear a thing, who’s back?”

 The he heard the squeak of the wood steps to the second floor.

 “Drake can you hear me? I’m talking about her” he heard Liam through the phone, but he couldn’t quite figure his works.

 Because he was facing a ghost.

 There on the second step of the staircase, wearing faded jeans, a pair of sneakers and a hooded denim jacket; there with shoulder length damped chocolate hair and electric blue eyes; there stood Riley York.

***

Tagging:  @drakewalkerrosenberg; @agent-bossypants; @sleepwalkingelite; @silviasutton1989; @pug-bitch; @rtinaz; @ooo-barff-ooo; @likethetailofacomet; @notoriouscs; @mind-reader1; @annekebbphotography; @walkerismychoice; @tmarie82; @blackwidow2721; @thequeenchoices; @missameliep; @jovialyouthmusic; @perksof-everything; @choicesmacmakes @carabeth, @drakenazario; @drakesensworld; @moneyfordiamonds; @lynne1993; @ilovedrakewalker23, @choicesmacmakes.

[katurrade]

Secrets and Sins Epilogue

This is not your normal TRR story. This is a complete AU. A mobster AU. It’s also written in a reader format, not a MC format. (Y/N = Your Name. Y/L/N = Your Last Name) Enjoy!Description: You flee from an abusive situation and find yourself on the other side of the country, creating new friends and possibly finding new love. But will you be able to escape your past? To truly move on with your life? Or will everything come crashing down around you in the blink of an eye. Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 4,120 ish.

Pairing: Mobster!Liam x Reader.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Violence. Drinking. Curse words. Possible NSFW content in later chapters. Flashbacks of abusive behaviour, and moments of abuse. Possible triggering thoughts and feelings. Probably more warnings to come. A/N: *throws canon out the damn window* YEET.

This is it guys and gals, the final piece to the Secrets and Sins series. I adored writing this story and was so overwhelmed by the love it got from you all. Thank you so much for joining me in this fun and crazy ride! I’ll be finishing off CBM sometime this week and then will be jumping head first into the next TRR AU series! So stay tuned! And enjoy S&S’s final chapter!! Oh! Also, if any of you writers or readers have the urge to write a Mobster AU, pleeeeeease dooo it! And tag me in it! I adore them and want—No! Need! I need more!!!

You woke up to the sun shinning in through the giant bay bedroom window. You slowly opened your eyes as they adjusted to the world around you. Or rather, the handsome blonde sleeping in front of you. You both were on your sides, facing each other, with his arms around you, holding you close. Your eyes traveled his face, he looked so calm, so peaceful. Your mind drifted back to the events from a year ago, and just how far you both had come...

1 year ago.

The morning after the gala and the amazing first night you spent with Liam, you both woke up to a bunch of knocks at the bedroom doors. Liam groaned then climbed out of bed, grabbing his shirt off the floor and handing it to you before pulling on his sweats. He waited till you put the shirt on and covered your lower body with the blankets then he opened the door to find Drake on the other side. Drake looked passed him and his eyes widened for a second then a grin formed on his lips. He looked back at Liam and wiggled his eyebrows.

Liam groaned again and racked a hand down his face “What do you want, Walker?”

You and Drake laughed then he spoke up “Well, I now have new questions but we will revisit those later.” He waved it off and smirked as he pushed passed Liam into the room.

Liam sighed then shut the door “Yes by all means, please come on in, Drake.” He said exasperatedly.

“You’re gunna want to hear what I have to say, Boss.” Drake replied as he reached the foot of the bed and turned to face Liam, he was all business now.

Liam straighten up instantly at Drakes change in tone “What is it?”

“Last night, while you were putting Y/N in the car, I overheard Madeleine on the phone. At the time what she said didn’t mean anything but I quickly clued in later on, when Y/N called you.”

“What did she say on the phone?” Liams voice was deep, dark even. You figured he was piecing things together now, just like you were. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to clue into where Drake was going with this.

“All I heard was ‘She’s leaving now.’”

You watched as anger flashed in Liams eyes and his jaw clenched tightly, then he walked around the bed and picked his phone up off the nightstand. Quickly typing something, your guess was a text. He looked up from the phone and locked eyes with you, you could tell he was still tense but looking at you seemed to calm him, just a little.

“What is your plan, Liam?” Drake asked hesitantly.

But before he could respond his phone pinged in his hand. He broke the eye contact with you and looked down at his phone again. A vengeful smirk graced his face and it sent a chill down your spine. You would have never wished in a thousand years to be Madeleine, the thought had never even crossed your mind. But in this exact moment it did, and you were fucking thankful you weren’t her. Whatever Liam had planned, it was not going to be pretty. That much you knew.

“You’ll see.” He finally responded to Drakes question “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we both need to get dressed.” He ushered Drake out if the room before he could say anything else, closing the door behind him.

“Liam..?” You softly asked, not sure if you even should. He turned and walked back towards the bed, sitting on the edge of it staring at the door “She is the reason he was here, the reason he was able to find you last night. To attack you.” He turned to look at you “I can’t let her get away with that.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“What I have to. What she deserves.” He said firmly, unwaveringly.

Your eyes widened “Please tell me you’re not going to kill her!?” There had been enough death around you in the last 24 hours and even though you hated Madeleine, more then really anyone else now, she didn’t deserve to die for being a petty little bitch. Even if her being gone would make your life much easier. Would guarantee your safety even more. But you had Liam, you knew he’d always protect you and there wasn’t really much Madeleine could do to you now.

“It’s what she deserves, Y/N.” he growled out then paused and took a deep breath, clearly not wanting to take his anger out on you. He levelled out his voice “She almost got you killed. I can’t allow her to continue living.” He shook his head “Not if it risks your life.”

Then you had an idea “What if there is another way?” You asked.

“I don’t see how there could be?” He raised a sceptical brow at you.

“Just hear me out...”

Later that night.

Liam heard the front door open and someone entering the foyer. He left his room and began down the stairs, his demeanour was calm, collected. As to not give away his true emotions. His eyes landed on her, Madeleine, now standing at the bottom of his stairs. The grin on her face almost broke his resolve, but he fought through it and smiled back at her. It was fake, but she’d never be able to tell. “Madeleine, thank you for joining me.” He said as she descended the final steps towards her.

“I was so happy to hear from you,” she mused then her head turned as she looked around the home, or at least at what she could see from where she stood. “Where’s Y/N?” She asked innocently.

What Madeleine didn’t know was that the night before, Anton had failed at kidnapping Y/N. Bash had gotten Mara out of the car and off to the hospital, with the help of Sam. While Drake and James dealt with the 4 bodies and Antons truck. They had managed to keep everything quiet, and out of the news and gossip circles. Buying Liam the time to lure Madeleine out so he could deal with her. So as of now, Madi was oblivious to what was coming her way. But she’d learn pretty damn fast. “I don’t know,” He shrugged nonchalantly as he reached the bottom of the stairs “She wasn’t in her room last night.” He added, it wasn’t a lie. “Not sure where she went.”

“Oh,” she tried to fake shock, but failed “I’m sorry to hear that, Liam, but most woman just aren’t cut out for this lifestyle, I guess.” She shrugged as well. “You need someone who is.” She smirked, wickedly.

“It’s funny you should say that,” He started to lead her down the hall, to the right, towards his office “because I was just thinking the same thing.”

“And do you have someone in mind?” She cooed as they reached his office door.

“I do.” He said as he opened the door and walked in, Madi following close behind.

The second the door was closed he moved quickly. He spun around on her and his hand went to her lower throat as he pushed her up against the wall, pulling the hidden gun from the back waistband of his pants. He always kept one there, just in case. He pointed it in her face and the anger was now written all over his. “And it’s not you.” He growled “How fucking dare you. You think I wouldn’t find out you were behind Anton being here!?” He yelled “You think I don’t know what happens in my fucking city, Madi?”

Her eyes were so wide it looked like they were about to burst out if her head “L-liam, let me explain!” She quickly stuttered out.

“Too late for explanations, Madi, you betrayed me. My trust. And now you will pay for it. I can’t allow you to continue living. Not now.” He seethed and shook his head “You brought this on yourself.”

“W-wait!” She put her hands up in surrender “J-just hear me out!”

“Too late.” He clicked off the safety but then the door burst open, slamming into the wall with a bang and Madi damn near jumped out of her skin. Both of them turning there heads to look at you.

“Liam! Wait!” You yelled as she abruptly entered the room. “Please don’t kill her Liam. Please.” You pleaded, as you stood just in the doorway hands up in front of you, in an attempt to calm him.

“She deserves to die for what she did to you!” He spat as he turned to look back at Madeleine again.

“She doesn’t,” you shook your head “I can’t condone you killing her for me. If anything I should be thanking her, she helped me eradicate Anton from my life, along with the bounty.”

“She betrayed my trust.” He growled.

“So?” You stepped closer to him, cautiously “Did you actually ever trust her to begin with?” He looked at you for a moment before he narrowed his eyes and flicked them back to Madi, who had stayed completely silent this whole time. Her eyes still wide and shifting between you both as you spoke. Then he shook his head “That doesn’t matter, you can’t betray the fucking King of New York and live.”

“I understand that,” You reached out your hand, slowly and placed it on his wrist, urging him to lower his gun “but she wasn’t doing it to betray you. She was doing it, in her mind, for you.”

His eyes looked first at your hand on his wrist, then darted up to lock onto yours. After a few intense seconds he sighed and lowered the gun. But his hand remained on her lower neck, pinning her to the wall still. “Then what do you think we should do with her?” He asked calmly though the frustration and anger in his voice was still evident. You thought it over for a moment then answered “Send her away. Kick her out of New York, never to be allowed to return. She may not deserve to die, but she doesn’t deserve to stay here either.”

Madeleine looked at you and you could almost see the relief in her eyes at your words then she looked towards Liam. He shook his head “She’d never stay away, I can’t risk her trying to harm you again.” He lifted up the gun once more and pointed it at her.

“Please Liam—“ you started to beg but then Madi spoke up “No! No, I promise.” She quickly spat out “I-i’ll leave. I’ll never come back. Y-you won’t ever hear from me again!”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Because I don’t want to die,” She shook her head “you have to believe that. I know you believe that.”

“Then how do I know you won’t just hire someone to kill Y/N.”

“You don’t,” she said honestly and Liams grip on her neck tightened “but! But,” she quickly added hands up in defence again “She could have let you kill me, however, she didn’t. If you let me walk away, I’ll owe her my life. I won’t send anyone after her, I swear it on my life.”

The whole time she was talking, his eyes stayed glued to you. Just as yours did to him. After a very intense moment, Liam looked back at Madi and released her from his hold. Lowering the gun and setting the safety again before tucking it back into the waist band of his pants. Madeleine collapsed to the floor as you moved towards her, to comfort her.

Liam straighten up “Madeleine, I hereby ban you from the state of New York, you have 12 hours to get out or I will kill you.” He turned and walked towards his desk as you helped Madeleine up and started to walk her towards the door but you both paused as he spoke up again “Oh and Madi, if you ever step foot in my city again, or if harm ever comes to Y/N because of you, it will be a instant death sentence. I will hunt you down and finish what we started here today.”

She looked from you to him then nodded her answer and that she understood what he had told her. You walked her down the hall and to the front door “Thank you.” She whispered.

You turned to her and shook your head “You don’t need to thank me, I don’t believe anyone deserves to die because of me. My life is not worth more then another’s.”

“Not many people would hold the same sentiments as you. So I do need to thank you. I’d be dead right now if it wasn’t for you.”

“Well I’m glad you aren’t and I hope you can find a new, peaceful life for yourself out there. I truly do.”

She smiled at you, and for the first time ever, you believed it was a real one. A true smile. Then she nodded “I better get going before he changes his mind or my 12 hours are up.”

You smiled back and opened the door for her. Then with that she left. You didn’t know it at the time but that would be the last time you’d ever see her again, the last time you’d ever hear from her. She’d keep her word to you both. You closed the door then turned around and headed back to Liam’s office.

You walked in to find Liam leaning on his desk, arms crossed in front of him. “I think she bought it.” You said as you smirked. Having to be nice to Madeleine was fucking difficult but you had to make her feel indebted to you. Like she owed you and this wasn’t all a giant act you and Liam had planned out.

“Thanks to your surprising acting skills,” he laughed as he pushed off the desk and walked towards you “You actually had me fooled for a second there.”

You laughed “Says the guy who actually had me thinking he might just kill her anyways. Regardless of our plan.”

He smirked “I always stick to my plans,” He grabbed a hold of your waist and pulled you gently towards him “at least the ones involving you.”

You rested both hands on his chest as you looked up at him, one eyebrow now raised “Oh, is that so?”

“Yup.” He mock growled as he leaned down to kiss you. Both smiling like fools into the kiss which then caused you both to burst out laughing—

Present.

“You’re staring again,” His sleepy voice pulled you from your thoughts. His eyes were still closed. “It’s creepy.” He added, though you could tell he was messing with you. It wasn’t creepy at all, he secretly loved it.

“I can stare at you all I want,” you lowered your voice now to sound like his. Or more to mock how he would always says this next part to you “Because you are mine.”

His eyes opened and he glared at you, which made you burst out laughing. “Are you mocking me?” He asked.

“Me? Mock you?” You feigned ignorance and innocence, then gasped “Never!”

He narrowed his eyes at you “I think I’ll need to punish you for this.” He threatened and you instantly went to jump out of bed to get away from him, knowing what this ‘punishment’ would be. But you weren’t fast enough, his large hands grabbed your hips and pulled you back into the bed. Pinning you under his much larger body, then he started to tickle you. Your biggest weakness. Fucker knew you too well. Even after only a year.

You squirmed and screamed as you tried to get away from him, though he was way stronger then you so any efforts were futile at best. There was only one thing you could do to stop him. Or rather, distract him. You reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, catching him off guard and pulled him down to you. Your lips crashed into his and his attack instantly ceased. His eyes widened for a second then slammed shut as he melted into the kiss.

You now had him right where you wanted him. So before he could even react you flipped both of you so that you were now on top. Granted, probably not for long, but it was all about the small wins. You pumped your fists in the air in mock victory “I win! I win!” You joked.

He just stared up at you then started to laugh “I let you.”

You arms dropped instantly “Pffft. Please! I won this one fair and square.”

“Oh, you think so?” He shook his head “You cheated.”

“I did not!” Your hand flew up to your chest as you feigned outrage now “I just simply used your weaknesses against you, just as you did to me!” Then you smirked down at him “You’re just sad I bested you.” You taunted.

You saw his eyes darken then screamed in shock as he flipped you both, so he was now on top, once again. Then he just looked down at you, or rather his eyes travelled over your face. Then he whispered something that sounded a lot like ‘Marry me.’ Your brows knitted together as you couldn’t have heard that right “What did you just say?” You asked breathlessly. He smirked then jump up and off the bed, quickly disappearing down the hall to the master bathrooms and closets. You propped yourself up on your elbows in bed and watched as he did. Even more confused now.

After a moment he came back into the bedroom, one of his hands behind his back. You raised a questioning brow at him as he came over to the bed and the hand not behind him reached out for you to take. You just stared at it then up at him, he laughed then wiggled the hand he had out to you, as if urging you to take it. You did, cautiously, then he gently pulled you up and out of bed to stand.

Once you were, he stood there for a few seconds just looking down at you, he seemed ...nervous? You’d be lying if you said you weren’t also nervous. Then he took a step back and lowered onto one knee, still holding your hand. “This isn’t exactly how I wanted to do this,” he paused “Or how I had planned it.” He laughed nervously “but then again, our relationship has never been a conventional one.” You both smirked at just how true that statement was. He then cleared his throat “Y/N, I have never met anyone like you. I have never felt this way about anyone before. I think,” he paused “I think I have loved you from the first moment I met you, when you tried to awkwardly run in the opposite direction from me, or maybe even from the moment I first laid eyes on you, entering that club. I don’t honestly know, but either way, I know that you are the only woman for me. There will never be anyone else. You have changed me in so many ways, in such a short time, and I strive to be worthy of you, to deserve you. To make you happy and keep you safe,” the hand behind his back moved to in between you both but your eyes stayed locked to his. You knew were this was going, but in this moment all you cared about was watching him, memorizing his face, his words, his beautiful blue eyes, every part of him in this moment. The one where he would ask you those 4 little words that would forever link you to each other. “Y/N, I love you with all that I am,” he released your hand then fiddled with what you could only assume was the ring box between you, but you refused to break eye contact with him, not yet, you didn’t care what the ring looked like. You already knew your answer. “Will you marry me?” He asked, FINALLY!

You felt the tears well up in your eyes instantly, upon hearing those 4 little words “Yes! Yes! A million times yes!” You practically yelled out in excitement then you pushed his hands out of the way and lunged towards him, damn near knocking him over as your body slammed into his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and crashed your lips to his in a frantic and messy, yet passionate, kiss. You felt the tears streaming down your cheeks as you did. His arms wrapped around you and held you tight to him as he kissed you back. He pulled away reluctantly after a moment, and you felt his hands moving a bit behind your back then the slow sound of something hitting the floor. He then took hold of your left hand and you finally looked down and watched as he slipped the beautiful diamond engagement ring onto you ring finger. You took a second to admire it then flicked your eyes back to his, finding them just watching you. Silently.

“I love you, Liam.” You whispered.

“I love you too, Y/N.” he whispered back as he kissed the tip of your nose. Then he smirked and growled out “Now, let me show you just how much.” He scooped you up bridal style then stood up, he deposited you on the bed and you giggled with excitement as he crawled on after you.

A few amazing hours later you both finally emerged from the bedroom, in search of food. He offered you his arm and you happily took it as you both made your way down to the kitchen. Finding the whole gang, including Olivia and Hana, hanging out in the kitchen. Hana had become close with everyone when she started to spend more time here after you’d officially moved in. She was here almost any day she wasn’t working. Today being one of her days off, clearly. And Olivia ended up moving into the house a few months after you did, things with her and Drake were going just as well as things with Liam and you were.

They all went quiet and looked at you both as you entered, then Drake spoke up “We were wondering if we’d ever see either of you again.” He smirked. Olivia removed her hand from her growing baby bump to swat him in the arm “Shhhh,” she hissed before whispering “Look at her hand.” As she nodded with her head towards you. Then everyones eyes darted to your left hand, every face breaking out into a huge smile once they saw it. “Holy shit!” Drake gapped “He actually did it.” He whispered. Everyone burst out laughing at Drakes obvious shock then one by one they congratulated you both.

Mara came around the island and pulled you into a deep hug, since that horrible night you and Mara had become close, damn near inseparable. She was like the sister you never had but always wanted. Hana, Olivia, Mara and yourself had all become really close, actually. The boys had jokingly nicknamed you all the ‘fantastic four’ whenever you were all together. It had started as a joke but you all loved the nickname and decided to keep it.

The guys all congratulated Liam, as Mara stepped back and Hana rushed over. She wrapped her arms around you then happily bounced in place as you both giggled. She was literally vibrating with excitement. And lastly Olivia walked over and hugged you awkwardly over her baby bump. Then the friends all switched, the girls congratulating Liam, and the guys all hugging and congratulating you. Drake was the last one, he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around before lowering you back to the ground and whispering “Thank you for making him the happiest man alive,” then he pulled back and look over at Olivia for a second before turning back to you “Or, at least the second happiest.” He smirked. You burst out laughing “No thank you needed, he makes me just as happy.”

You looked passed Drake to see Liam watching you. You stepped around Drake and wrapped your arms around Liams waist, tucked under his strong arm. You looked up at him and smiled, he smiled back then he looked towards all your friends “I think a celebration is in order.”

“Fuck yeah!” Most of them said in unison.

In this moment you realized this was exactly where you were meant to be. That everything, good and bad, that had happened in your life had been worth it. Had led you to this exact place. To where you truly belonged. Around these amazing people you now called your family, and tucked under the arm of this amazing man, you now called your fiancé.

You were safe. You were secure. You were loved. And from this day on, you always would be. You were his and he was yours. Forever.

Masterlist HERE.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Perma: @blackcatkita @darley1101 @hopefulmoonobject @choiceslife @speedyoperarascalparty @alicars @kennaxval @leelee10898 @riseandshinelittleblossom @ao719 @cocomaxley @bobasheebaby @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @blackwidow2721 @indiacater @annekebbphotography @umccall71 @bella-ca @lodberg @romanticatheart-posts @queenof1000days @nazariobae @sstee1 @carabeth @sarwin85 @sazanes @gibbles82 @zaffrenotes @gardeningourmet @jlouise88 @tothetardissterek @pixieferry @daniv2278 @applenico @cordoniaqueensworld @jayjay879 @blackcoffee85 @cordoniansqueen S&S: @alexpottrechoices @nekkidmolerat @brightpinkpeppercorn @akrenich @h3llostrang3r @alj4890 @thecordoniandiaries @elbenmond @harlequinash @wannabemc2 @choicesbyjade @jovialyouthmusic @ritachacha

[fallforcs]

Stay

Art by: @sailingcaptainswan

Author: @singingisfun

Summary: Emma never thought the drunk she found passed out in The Rabbit Hole would change her life.

Rating: T

Trigger warnings: None

Thanks so much to @hookedmom  for her patience with me.  You’re an incredible beta, sweetie!  I loved getting to know you!

Part 1

Part 2/2

Six months later…

Killian walked alongside his brother, both of them sporting large boxes that they placed next to the street.

“So, that’s the last of it,” Liam commented, turning to look back at the house.

Killian drew a deep breath. “I suppose so.”

“Have you told her yet?  That we sold the house?”

“Not yet.”

“Hmmm…” Liam murmured thoughtfully and Killian looked up to see him turning toward his truck.

He grabbed two beers from the cooler in the back and handed one to Killian.  They each popped the cap and took long drinks.

“You could just come up with another excuse, you know.”

Killian lifted his head to see Liam looking at him with an amused glint in his eye.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve been successfully conjuring excuses – flimsy ones, mind you, but still excuses – for the last six months.  Surely you can come up with another.”

Killian could feel his cheeks reddening.

“Or you could stop with the lame excuses and just admit you want to stay.”  At Killian’s silence, his brother pressed further. “What?”

Killian winced, “I’m not sure she wants me to.” Liam’s mouth fell open but before he could speak, Killian rushed on, “She’s never asked me to stay, Liam.  And besides, this was supposed to be a short-term thing.  We both said that going in.”

“Well, things have changed, Killian!”

“For me?  Absolutely.  But for Emma?  I’m not so sure.”

“You’re a fool if you think she doesn’t care.”

“Maybe she does, I don’t know, but she’s never said it.  And every time I try to tell her she cuts me off or changes the subject.”

Liam was quiet for a minute before he spoke.

“What has she told you about Neal?”

“Neal?” Killian asked in confusion.  “What does he have to do with this?”

“Just… What has she told you, Killian?”

“That they were young and thought they were in love but they’re just friends now.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, why?  What more is there?”

“A lot.”

Killian’s stomach clenched at the tone in Liam’s voice, foreboding settling into his chest as Liam grabbed another beer and forced it into his hand.

“Look,” his brother began, “I didn’t know her when it happened.  And I only know about it because David got really drunk one night shortly after Neal showed up in town and told me the story.”  He paused to take another long pull off his beer.  “Yeah, they were young.  And, yeah, Emma thought she loved him.  And maybe he thought he loved her, too.  But they didn’t split by mutual decision.  You know Emma’s an orphan, right?  Well, she didn’t do well in the system and before she was eighteen she ran away. That’s when she met Neal.  He was… well, they were both petty thieves…  and they bonded over that, I guess.  Anyway, I didn’t get the whole story, but apparently Neal got into some trouble and because it was his second offense, he was in danger of some real jail time.  So he let Emma take the fall and he ran off.”

Killian must have made some sort of noise because Liam stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Emma only got probation, but a few months later, she found out she was pregnant.  She moved to Storybrooke right after Henry was born.  She got her life together.  David and his wife helped her out.  And David hired her at the sheriff’s station.  Then, about two years ago, Neal showed up.  David still wonders if it was coincidence or not – but he showed up and ran into Emma and Henry at Granny’s.  It didn’t take a lot of smarts for him to figure out Henry was his son.”

Killian cursed under his breath.

“I agree,” Liam said, then added, “but think about this, Killian.  The guy’s been here for two years now.  He’s turned his life around, just like Emma did.  And he is a good father.  He moved his fiancé to live with him here in Storybrooke so that he could be near his son.  And I’ve got to say it’s lifted a burden off Emma to have help.  He endured a lot of scrutiny from David, and me, and just about everyone else in town, but he stuck it out because he wanted to do the right thing.

“My point in telling you this isn’t so you’d hate Neal, but so you’d understand where Emma is coming from.  She doesn’t trust easily.  She’s got walls a mile high.  And the idea that you’re planning to leave – or at least she believes you’re planning to leave – is kryptonite for her.”  Liam waited a beat.  “So, are you planning to leave?”

Killian didn’t answer.  Instead, he walked straight to his car and drove away.

*****

Emma stood on her porch and waved to her son as he and his father pulled away from the curb.  The moment they turned the corner and were out of sight, she dashed inside and hurried up the stairs. Killian was due any minute and she hadn’t had time to clean up after work.  It had been a hectic day, a rarity in Storybrooke, three fender benders and a noise complaint filed by Leroy over Archie’s dalmatian.

She stripped off her shirt as she went, balling it up and tossing it in the hamper in the corner.  Usually, she wouldn’t go to the trouble, but the chaos of today had wreaked havoc on it.  There was a blood stain on the sleeve from a split lip that resulted from one of the car accidents and mud caked on the front from Pongo’s messy paws.  And, besides, it was a special night.  It was six months ago today that she and Killian had met – not that she was going to mention it.  She wasn’t even sure why she’d noticed it.  Okay, that’s a lie, she silently berated herself.  She knew exactly why and even though she trusted her reasons to no one else, the least she could do was be honest in the privacy of her own head.

She quickly ran a brush through her hair and toyed with the idea of lighting some candles.  Would it be too obvious if she did?  Probably.  The guy was too damn observant for his own good.  Still, she could at least wear her best perfume.  Surely, he wouldn’t notice that and, even if he did, she could easily play it off as coincidence.

She rolled her eyes at herself.  She was getting worked up for no reason.  Leaning forward, she laid her hands flat on the bathroom counter and took two long, deep breaths.  She really needed to get a handle on her feelings.

The past six months had been a whirlwind, and not the gentle kind.  More like a fucking F-5 tornado.  And the name of that tornado was Killian Jones.

He’d been persistent.  She’d have to give him that.  Major points for determination.  She’d kept her word to him though: it had taken longer than two weeks.  Two weeks and two days to be precise.  And holding out even that long had been a tough battle.

She’d watched him throughout his father’s service, accepting condolences alongside his brother.  He’d held it together pretty well, enough so that most of the town bought it.  But it hadn’t fooled Emma.  He’d been broken on the inside, full of regret and weighed down with sadness.  It had been a feat of self-control to simply shake his hand and whisper her words of comfort.  What she’d wanted to do was take him in her arms and press his cheek to her shoulder, to run her fingers through his hair until the hollowness had left his eyes.  But she didn’t.  The guy was suicide and Emma Swan was a survivor.

He’d popped up constantly after that, sliding into the stool next to her at Granny’s or stopping her to talk on the sidewalk.  His smile was always flirty and his innuendo-laced words dripping with sass, but she saw past the swagger.   Not that she’d ever let him know that.

Instead, she’d taken it all at face value.  The physical attraction was undeniable and she was only human, for goodness sakes.  So she’d entered into an affair with him, promising herself she’d keep her emotions in check.

And how’s that going for you, Emma? she silently asked her reflection.

If only he’d left when he was supposed to.  But he hadn’t.  Two weeks had multiplied to four, then to six and so on until she was now standing in her bathroom, nervous over lighting candles for their six-month anniversary.

Damn the man and his striking good looks, his capricious dimples and, most importantly, his skill between the sheets.  He was like a drug to her body, and her body was certainly enjoying their arrangement.  The sex was amazing, intense and passionate at times and playful and teasing at others.  He’s the first man she’s ever been with who’d made her laugh in bed, and he’s also the first who’d made her eyes sting with tears at the beauty of being cherished.

Christ, she really was a goner.

But, still, she knew he couldn’t stay in Storybrooke forever.  He may have been putting it off for a while now (and, yes, she suspected she was a large reason for that), but his life was elsewhere and sooner or later, he’d have to get back to it.  His latest project was getting his father’s house sold.  Since Liam worked, he wouldn’t be able to devote as much time to it as Killian could, so Killian had taken it upon himself to clean and paint and make repairs in order to put it on the market.  That had been nearly two months ago, and last week, the ‘for sale’ sign went up in the front yard.

It could sell any day, Emma knew, and Killian would have no more reasons to stay in Storybrooke.

But she wasn’t going to think about that tonight.  Tonight, she was going to enjoy herself.  She was going to pretend inside her head that this was the first of many anniversaries for them.

With a resolute straightening of her shoulders, she turned from the mirror and pulled out her best perfume.

*****

Killian stared hard at Emma’s door for a solid minute before knocking.  He wanted to make sure he had his emotions under control before she saw him.  The talk he’d had with Liam had given him hope but he still had doubts.  She’d always been so easy with the impermanence of their relationship that it was hard to see past that.

When she opened the door, her eyes were bright with happiness and she leaned forward to kiss him lightly on the lips.  “Come on in,” she said, opening the door a bit wider, “Dinner’s not ready yet.  I’m running a little late.  This day has been crazy.”

He followed her in, closing the door behind him as she hurried toward the kitchen.

She was busy at the stove when he entered.  “Get yourself a drink if you want.”

Left with no other choice, he poured himself a drink and one for her as well, then walked up behind her at the stove to lay it on the counter before wrapping his arms around her waist.  She gave his arm the absent pat of a woman with other things on her mind.

“How was your day?” she asked, stirring something in the pot.

“Good,” he replied, “we finished cleaning out the house.  But yours sounds more interesting.  What made it so ‘crazy’?”

“What didn’t is more like it,” she replied with amusement, moving away from him and the stove to gather plates from the cabinet.  She set the table as she told him, her manner brisk but her voice light and cheerful.

He stayed by the stove as she worked, taking the spoon and stirring what looked like a seafood chowder dish.  He watched her animated movements, smiled distractedly at her tale.  God, he loved her.  His brave and resilient Swan.  He loved everything about her.  Even as he watched her perform a mundane chore like setting the table, she was a complete miracle to him.

Once she’d finished the table she crossed back to him and took the spoon, inspecting the contents in the pot.

“I hope you like chowder,” she said a little too brightly, “Eric from next door gave me some fresh shrimp from his latest catch.”

He couldn’t stop himself from wrapping her in his arms again, burrowing his nose into her neck.  She’d noticed his reflective mood, but she was ignoring it, just as she had so many times before.  It sat like a rock in his stomach and to cover it, he breathed her in.

“You smell delicious, love,” he mumbled into her neck.

“I think that’s the food,” she tried to tease but he wasn’t having it.

Not tonight.

“No, it’s you, Swan.  Are you wearing something new?”

Her shoulders tensed for a fraction of a second before she answered, “Yeah, it’s new.”

“You smell better than the food.”  He nuzzled in and ran his teeth along her neck.  “I think I might be more interested in having you for dinner.”

Just as the words left his mouth, her stomach growled loudly and they both chuckled.

“Sorry, I had to skip lunch today.”

Reluctantly, he released her.  “Well, then, I’m very much looking forward to dessert.”

He saw the blush cover her cheeks as she turned in his arms.  “Me, too,” she whispered, meeting his lips for a sizzling kiss.

She was easier with this, the teasing banter and physical attraction.  It made the rock in his stomach heavier but he kissed her back, doing his best to keep the pace unhurried.  He brought a hand up to her cheek to gentle her and felt the shudder that ran through her body.  Her lips softened and she allowed the tenderness to seep in for a long moment.  The rock lightened and he pulled her against him, tracing his fingers up her spine.  She broke the kiss abruptly, turning back to the stove before he could nuzzle into her neck the way he wanted to.  

“So, you finished cleaning out the house?” she asked.

He nearly sighed but managed to hold it in.  “Aye,” he replied, trying to match his tone to hers, “The garbage collectors are going to hate us, but it’s completely empty.”

“And…” she hesitated, “have there been any offers yet?”

She tried to sound casual, but he heard the waver in her voice and, God help him, it filled him with relief.

“As a matter of fact, we got an offer this morning.”

“Oh?” she asked, turning to look over her shoulder.

“Yes, and… we accepted it.”

Shutters fell over her eyes instantly, winking out the happy shine from moments ago.

“Emma…” he began when she looked back to the stove but she was already talking over him, now stirring with a vengeance.

“So, you’ll be… You’ll be leaving soon.”

“I don’t have to,” he replied.

She shook her head, keeping her back to him as she turned off the burner.  “Yes, you do,” she told him.  “I heard your call with Robin the other night.  Your teammates need you.  You need to get ready for your next race.”

She moved away from him then, fetching a serving dish to transfer the food into.  “Dinner’s ready,” she said brightly.

He stayed where he was as she took the food to the table, his fingers gripping the edge of the counter until they ached.  He wanted to go to her but the distance she’d put between them stopped him.

Once the food was on the table, she looked up to him and motioned for him to come sit.  But he couldn’t.  He couldn’t force himself to sit across a table from her, to share a meal with her, believing it could be the last.

So he stayed where he was.  “Do you want me to go?” he asked.

She sighed.  “It doesn’t matter what I want, Killian.  Your life isn’t here.  We always knew it.”

“But do you want me to go?” he repeated.  When she held silent, he pressed on, “I’m not going to come up with another excuse that will only keep me around for another week or two.  I need a reason to stay permanently, Emma.”

“There is no reason for you to stay permanently, Killian!” she exclaimed, sharply.  “There are no yacht races in Storybrooke.  There are no Maserati dealerships here.  Why on earth would you want to stay?”

“Do you really need to ask that!?”

His outburst seemed to take her aback and she bit her lip as she looked down to the table.

“Let’s just eat,” she said slowly, carefully.  Too carefully as it was enough to get his legs moving.

“No,” he said, crossing to her and cupping her cheeks to force her eyes to his.  There were tears gathering around the edges, and that was all the encouragement he needed.  “Tell me you want me to stay, love.  That’s all you have to do.  Ask me to stay and I will.”

Her lower lip trembled as her eyes flicked back and forth between his, the internal battle she was waging plain on her face.  But he needed this from her.  He needed her to say the words.

“I…  I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, darling,” he ground out, leaning his forehead to hers.  “Please…” he begged, “Ask me to stay.”

She sniffled loudly, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders and squeeze tight.  “You’d really give up your life to stay here with me?” she asked.

“I would,” he vowed.  “I love you, Emma.  I’ve loved you since the day I woke up in that cell and you interrogated me.”

She huffed out a laugh at that, leaning back enough to look at him.  “Really?”

He smiled back at her.  “Really.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered.

“Then ask me to stay.”

Her fingers constricted on his shoulders.

“Stay,” she said.

He pulled her lips to within a hairsbreadth of his.  “I thought you’d never ask, love.”  Then, he closed the distance.

~fin~

[frauleinsmaria]

Chance Encounters

Based on the prompt “I don’t know who you are but we keep running into each other on the street and getting into screaming arguments over the stupidest things and I’m actually looking forward to our next meeting bc you’re annoying as hell but damn you’re hot and it’s kind of fun to argue with you”

Written for my match for the Captain Swan Spring Fic Formal. Surprise @welllpthisishappening! Laura, I’ve had so much fun interacting with you over the past few weeks- although it’s been hard to make sure I didn’t reveal myself talking to you elsewhere 😂 You’re such a wonderful presence in this fandom and I’m so glad I got to be paired with you. I know you like both friends and enemies to lovers and lots of banter, so I hope you enjoy reading this lil fic as much as I enjoyed writing it <3 

Also thanks @distant-rose and @awkwardnessandbaseball for getting the @csficformal together! It’s been a blast

Also on AO3

It’s certainly not how he expects his Monday morning to start.

It shouldn’t surprise him though, considering the direction his day is already heading in from the moment he wakes up. A power outage in his apartment building the night before causes his alarm clock to reset, meaning he wakes up less than half an hour before he’s supposed to leave for work. He cuts himself shaving thanks to being in a hurry and hopes no one will notice the nick on his chin. He goes to make his regular cup of coffee after getting dressed and realizes he ran out of coffee beans over the weekend and forgot to buy more.

His last resort is leaving everything else he needs to do as is so he has time to stop by the coffee shop on his way to the office. Of course it’s not his biggest priority, but he’s already heard about the workload Regina has waiting for him today and knows he won’t be able to deal with it properly without some kind of caffeine.

Thankfully, the line this morning is short, and he’s able to order his drink and be on his way quickly. But it’s just his luck that his phone vibrates with a text from Liam as he’s turning to head out the door, and he’s reading it when he collides with a wall and spills coffee on the front of his white shirt.

“Damn it!”

Whoops, not a wall. A woman, and a very angry one at that, judging by the expression on her face and the similar coffee stain she now sports on her own grey blouse.

Killian shakes his head as the shock wears off and takes in the death stare he’s receiving from the blonde in front of him. She’s holding a drink in her hand as well, but most of it still seems to be in the cup rather than on their clothes like his. “I’m terribly sorry, love. I should have been paying more attention to what I was doing.”

“Yeah, you should have,” she snaps, pulling a napkin out of her purse and attempting to clean up the mess she’s wearing.

There’s a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue, but he manages to hold back and tries to think of a way to be the bigger person here.

“Love, if there’s anything I can do-”

“The best thing you can do right now is to leave me alone so I can go before I’m later for work than I already am. And I’m not your love.”

Any desire he has to be polite is out the window as the the events of the morning all catch up to him. “With that attitude, I’m bloody glad you aren’t!”

“So am I!” She turns on her heel and leaves the coffee shop before he has a chance to say anything else.

By some stroke of luck, he’s able to make it through the day without any other mishaps.

But he can’t explain why the thought of the annoying blonde from the coffee shop stays in his mind long afterwards.

-/-

It’s Thursday afternoon when Killian runs into her again- not literally this time, thank goodness. He’s on his lunch break, headed to the gym near his office when he sees her leaving the building as he’s walking up. She glances in his direction briefly when she sees him, doing a bit of a double take as she realizes where they’ve seen each other before.

“Afternoon, love.”

She makes a sour face. “I thought we established that I’m not your love,” she reminds him, using her fingers to draw air quotes around the word.

“Sorry, lo- lass,” he corrects himself. “Just a habit I suppose.” He blames it on Liam; their mother made quite the effort to ensure the two of them both had adequate manners, and he’d enforced the same ideals on Killian long after she passed.

But it’s clear by her unwavering expression that she doesn’t buy it. “Whatever.” It’s not unlike her reaction a few days earlier when he’d tried to apologize for the coffee incident.

As much as he wants to ignore her and go about with his day, something keeps him there. He’d be lying to himself if he said it wasn’t at least partly attraction; he hadn’t paid much attention to her in the coffee shop thanks to the circumstances, but now he can’t seem to focus on much besides blonde hair, green eyes, and the black and white outfit she’s clearly just finished a workout in judging by the way it sticks with sweat to her thin frame.

And yet, while he’ll willingly admit to finding her attractive, there’s something else- maybe it’s the attitude she’s developed toward him, or her unwavering stubbornness, he doesn’t know- that keeps him from letting things alone like he normally would. “Do you always act like this when someone tries to apologize or be nice to you?”

Killian watches as her jaw sets and sees he’s struck a cord, although he can’t say whether or not it was unintentional. “Do you always butt into other people’s business?”

“Regardless, it seems yours isn’t worth my time.” She rolls her eyes and walks away from him for the second time.

His annoyance with her is just the motivation he needs for his workout, but like the time before, his thoughts stay occupied with the woman he knows nothing about, aside from the fact that she must be some kind of a force to be reckoned with.

He can’t decide whether she intrigues or irritates him more.

-/-

The next Tuesday is when Killian becomes convinced that the universe hates him.

He’s walking to work, sans coffee after finally replenishing his stock at home, when he catches a familiar glimpse of blonde hair coming out of a store as its owner taps away at her phone. He doesn’t try to get her attention; she’s not exactly his biggest fan as it is, and bothering her for no reason certainly won’t change that.

It doesn’t matter how honorable his intentions are, though, since she notices him when she glances over her shoulder not a moment later. She stops in her tracks and he hears her groan as he’s walking up.

“Are you following me or something? Because I have a gun and-”

Killian holds a hand up to stop her. “Not to worry, lass.” (He’s remembered what not to call her this time.) “Believe it or not, it seems that you and I are yet again the victims of mere coincidence.”

“Seriously? Who talks like that?”

“A person who’s about as thrilled with our recent pattern of encounters as you are.”

“I’m not making you walk beside me to chat, you know! I think you and I both have better things to do.”

“Finally something we can agree on. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

He wastes no time leaving her behind and getting to work just as fast as he can. He’s annoyed yet again, something he’s convinced will be a common theme whenever he runs into her. But, bloody hell, he still can’t answer the question as to how and why she’s managed to get both under his skin and stuck in his mind so easily.

-/-

Killian goes a week without running into her after their last encounter on the street. He feels relieved considering how things between them are all but guaranteed them to go- or, at least, he thinks he does. It’s Liam that brings it to his attention when they’re at The Rabbit Hole sharing a drink after work.

“Looking for someone, are you?” his brother asks, seeing Killian’s eyes go to the bar’s entrance when the bell above the door chimes. A group of women arrive together, but he quickly loses interest in the redheads and brunettes.

He shakes his head as he takes a drink. “No. What makes you ask?”

Liam doesn’t look convinced. “Every time we’ve been out over the past few weeks, you seem to be waiting for someone else to show up. Not only that, but you’ve been examining every blonde within a mile’s radius, and I’d like to know just why.”

“You’re not going to leave me alone about this, are you?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Alright then.” Killian pauses as he tries to figure out how to explain his recent series of meetings to his brother. “To make a long story shorter: there’s this woman-”

“I knew it,” Liam mutters under his breath.

“There’s this woman,” he continues, ignoring him. “I haven’t the slightest idea who she is, but we keep running into each other and always end up having some petty argument before we part ways, only to see each other a few days later and do the same thing all over again.”

“Huh. And just what exactly are you and this lass always arguing over?”

“That’s just it; it’s usually just mindless bickering because I seem to annoy her as much as she does me.”

“Is she pretty?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Just a question.”

Killian rolls his eyes, but mutters, “Aye. Very much so.”

A moment of silence passes as Liam taps at the side of his glass and processes everything Killian’s just told him. “Well, I wish I could think of something to say to help you out, but all I’ve got is that you’re making this situation much more difficult than it needs to be.”

“How?! It's not like I'm intentionally trying to run into her.”

“No, but it doesn't sound as if you're trying to avoid her, either,” Liam argues. “Just admit it, Killian: you like her.”

“I don't bloody know her well enough to like her!”

“Maybe you should get to know her then. What’s that saying, opposites attract? She could end up surprising you.”

Killian wants nothing more than to argue with his brother and insist his suggestion is ridiculous. But as much as it pains him to admit it, he's up for having another run in with her just to see if there’s a way to make it out without yelling or sarcastic remarks. He doesn't tell Liam all of this, only says, “Maybe I’ll think about it. Maybe.”

He can already tell from the smug look on Liam’s face that he's going to get an I told you so if things turn out in his favor.

-/-

It's only three days later when he thinks maybe the universe doesn't hate him after all.

He's only been at work for a little over an hour, things going relatively well for a Friday morning, when there's a knock on his office doo. He looks up from his seat behind the desk to see his boss in the doorway.

“Regina, something I can do?”

To Killian’s surprise, the brunette actually smiles at him. He can't tell if it's genuine or not, but it's a smile just the same. Those can be far and few between where Regina Mills is concerned.

“Yes. But first, there's someone I'd like for you to meet.” She steps to the side and Killian has to bite his tongue to keep from cursing. “This is Emma Swan. Miss Swan, this is Killian Jones, one of our top family law attorneys.”

Her eyes widen as she recognizes him, but she doesn't say anything other than a quick, “Nice to meet you” and shakes his hand when he stands and offers it to her.

“Killian, Miss Swan is here for Humbert’s Bail Bonds. She’s looking for some information regarding the Lewis case from a few weeks ago; I figured you would be the one she needed to see.”

She's not wrong, the file he'd used to hold the casework from a messy child support ordeal is still in the top drawer of his desk where he'd left it once the trial was over. “Yes, I'm sure I can help with whatever's necessary.”

“Good to know,” Regina answers. “I'm due for a meeting downstairs, so I'll leave you to it.” The blonde- Emma- thanks her as she walks away, leaving the two of them alone in his office.

“So, the Lewis case, eh? I hope that's an incident I don't have to repeat any time soon,” he says, going through the desk drawer and pulling out the file she needs. He gestures for her to sit down as she takes it from him.

“Yeah. I'm the one who tracked the husband down, and my boss apparently needs the rest of the case information to turn over to his boss for one reason or another.” Her eyes scan over the words on the pages before she pulls a small notebook out of her purse and begins to scribble notes on a blank page.

Killian waits for her to say something about their past meetings; some kind of sarcastic remark, at least. But to his surprise, her focus stays on her work for the ten or fifteen minutes she's there, occasionally asking a question or two about his work or making a comment about the weather. Either she wants to avoid a confrontation, or she actually doesn't recognize him. The second option seems unlikely, but still believable.

Emma hands him back the Lewis file once she's collected all the information she needs. “I appreciate your help.”

“It was my pleasure,” he answers, for once remembering not to refer to her as love.

“Oh, and Mr. Jones?” She stops at the door. “It was...surprisingly nice to have a conversation with you without any yelling.”

She's out the door and gone before the “bloody hell” has a chance to leave his lips.

-/-

It doesn’t take long for Killian to think that maybe the universe does in fact hate him after all, because having a name to go with the face only makes it that much harder to get Emma Swan out of his head.

They’re still all but strangers- knowing the other’s name and workplace doesn’t exactly count as having an acquaintance- but he had to admit that he could accept the idea of that changing. Seeing they were capable of having a pleasant conversation has him believing that it’s possible, if only barely so. He toys around with the idea of somehow trying to get more information about her from Regina, but that could likely end with both women angry at him, his boss for using her influence the wrong way and Emma for going out of his way to get to know her.

Things soon take another turn and make him wonder just what kind of ridiculous dream he's stuck in.

Liam talks him into going to his girlfriend’s sister’s birthday party the next Friday night. He doesn't want to go- socializing with a crowd of mostly strangers isn’t something he goes out of his way to do- but he likes Elsa, and Anna seemed like a nice girl from the few times they've met, so he agrees. He and Liam show up at Elsa’s apartment precisely at seven, a bottle of wine tucked under his brother’s arm.

It should be no surprise that Emma’s is the first face he sees after Elsa lets them in.

She’s standing in the hall talking to a brunette with a pixie cut, laughing at something the other woman has said when she notices him and pauses. They’ve gotten so good at this now that she doesn’t have to wonder who he is or where she’s seen him anymore, especially thanks to her office visit. Speaking to her hasn’t always been the greatest idea, but he’s not about to waste the chance if she is indeed warming up to him. He tells Liam he’s going to speak to someone, but she’s standing right in front of him when he turns back around.

“Jones?”

“Yes, it seems we meet again.”

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“What are you doing here?”

“I asked you first.” He catches a glimpse of her quizzical expression as she takes a sip from the beer bottle she’s holding.

“Elsa is my brother’s girlfriend.”

“You’re Liam’s brother?!”

“You know him, too?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s tried to give me your number more than once.”

“Oh, bloody hell.” He glances over his shoulder at Liam who’s trying- and failing- to pretend he hasn’t been watching them. To think he’d already talked to his brother about her at the bar that night and he’d already known who she was.

“Yeah. But I don’t like it when my family and friends try to set me up with other people, so I thought I’d be nice and return, er, I guess not return the favor.” He can tell she was trying to save him from an unpleasant experience she’s likely had in the past, but it might be her way of letting him know she wouldn’t be interested regardless. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t deflate his confidence a bit. “Er, so how do you know Elsa and Anna?”

“They’re friends with my sister-in-law,” she answers, nodding her head towards the woman she’d been standing with earlier, who smiles when she sees them looking her way.

“Ah. It’s a small world, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Smaller than I thought.”

Killian chooses his next words carefully. “I would offer to get you a drink, but it seems that’s unnecessary,” he gestures to the one she already has.

“Maybe so, but rumor has it Elsa’s got pizza in the kitchen, and I haven’t had dinner yet.” Emma raises an eyebrow, indicating this is his chance and he’d better take advantage of it now.

“Give me five minutes.”

“I like pepperoni!”

-/-

“How long are you giving Liam to finally pop the question?”

“Honestly, love? I’m quite surprised he hasn’t already. Perhaps he’s worried Elsa won’t say yes.”

“Are you kidding? Look at her; she’s as much of a lovesick puppy as he is.”

Killian follows her eyes to where the couple stands outside together on the balcony, completely oblivious to everyone else around them. “Aye. They seem to be quite the good match for each other.”

“They remind me of David and Mary Margaret in that way; I couldn't have picked anyone more suited for either of them.” He senses a bit of disappointment in her words, but she doesn’t elaborate on the subject, and he doesn’t ask.

She’s asking about his job and the law firm when her phone vibrates. “It’s my boss,” she groans after taking a look at the screen. “Give me a sec?” He nods as steps out to answer.

Emma’s back not a minute later, frowning. “Sorry, I have to bail. A skip I’ve been tracking for almost a month was just spotted downtown, and my boss wants me to grab the jerk before he tries to run again.”

“Not a problem, lass,” he tells her, attempting to mask his own disappointment. “I can tell you put a lot of effort into what you do.”

“Yeah, maybe sometimes too much,” she mumbles, getting her purse and jacket from the seat beside him. “I guess I’ll see you around, Killian.”

He smiles as he watches her leave because he knows she’s probably right.

-/-

She’s right.

They cross each other’s paths three times over the next two weeks, twice at the coffee shop where they first unofficially met- with no coffee spilt either time, thankfully- and then at a local carnival that Liam has yet again coerced him into going to. (Killian thinks later that his brother wouldn’t need to go to so much effort to get him to do things if he knew Emma would be there.) Each encounter they’ve had since the party has been much different than the first few; although they both have a dry sense of humor and are too sarcastic for their own good, there has yet to be an instance that involves yelling or has someone convinced they hate the other.

It’s gotten to the point now that he’s begun to think of Emma as more than just a regular acquaintance, but maybe even a friend: He texts her corny jokes when she’s bored during a stakeout and she’s taken to willingly sitting at his table when they show up at the same restaurant for lunch. They haven’t gone as far as to share the more painful details of their pasts, but he’s convinced her background must closely mirror his own somehow based on her demeanor when something along the lines of childhood or family comes up in conversation. She always changes the subject or gives some kind of vague answer and he knows better than to push the subjects any further. It’s evident she’s been through quite a bit in her life and he sees no reason to make her reminisce any more than she already does.

And, yes, he likes her. A lot, if he’s being honest. And it’s just his luck that he realizes it about the same time Liam does.

“Why not ask her out already? The worst thing she can do is say no.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Killian groans. “I can’t complain; I’m lucky we’re even able to be friends considering the way we met.”

“And you’re always going to wonder what could have been if you don’t take that chance.”

Liam’s words stick with him for quite some time afterwards because he knows he’s right. Emma may hate him for going through with this, but he may come to hate himself even more for being a coward.

It’s Monday night when he goes over to Emma’s apartment after leaving the office.

“Hey, Killian,” she greets him when she comes to the door. “What brings you by?”

“Go out with me?”

“What?” The dumbfounded expression on her face makes him regret not thinking this through.

“Sorry, love, it’s just I know we didn’t exactly start off on the right foot, but I’ve found myself becoming more and more fond of you and I was wondering if...oh, bloody hell,” he curses, running a hand through his already unkempt hair. She was definitely going to say no. “You know what, Swan, forget it. I’ll just go.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry for botheri- wait, what?” He can’t have heard her correctly.

“Yes.” Emma smiles. “I was hoping you would ask eventually.” She leans forward and presses a kiss to his cheek before turning to go back into her apartment. “Tomorrow night, pick me up at seven. I’ll be waiting.”

Liam yells “I bloody told you so!” when he calls him on the way home. Killian’s too thrilled to care.

[in-the-name-of-styles]

I’ll Find My Way Back To You// Part Five.

It’s here! It’s here! After searching for motivation and finally finding it, here I present you the part five of the series. I’ve been reading a lot of books and ‘Walking Disaster’ inspired to write me this chapter. The writing in italic is the flashback. I’m so sorry for the delay! Hope you enjoy it, if you do then please let me know. I love you guys, honestly I do. Thank you for the amazing support you never forget to give me :) xx

Word Count : 3.1K

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four 

 Past couple of months have been hard for the two of you. You being busy with the new clothing line and him being busy with the single he just released, you just can’t find time for each other.

“Then why the fuck would you say something like that, YN?!” he yells, throwing his jacket on the sofa.

“I told you didn’t mean it that way, Louis! It just came out!” you retaliate. He shakes his head and turns to walk away but you catch him before he could even step aside.

“No we are not doing this, you promised that you won’t walk away when things get hard.” He sighs and looks at you with sad eyes. The fight that caused this is petty. Freddie has never been a problem for you, nor will he ever be. You adore the baby, but you couldn’t say the same for his mother. Even if she is bearable when you are around, she doesn’t quite give you a good vibe, she is a good mother to their son, but sometimes she seems forget that that’s all she is to Louis, the mother to his son. Nothing more, nothing less.

The pair of you were in LA to visit the little boy. At first you were quite wary to go, you didn’t really want to go since you wanted him to spend quality time with his son, giving him his undivided attention. But Louis brought the topic of the two of you aren’t being able to spend time together. So you agreed even when you didn’t want to.

That was your first mistake. Agreeing to go.

The moment you saw the look on Briana’s face when she noticed you, made your heart drop. You didn’t want her to hate you, because in your heart you knew that Louis might be it for you, that you might be with him for a long time. You wanted to be on your best terms with everyone in his life. So you ignored her sour look at smiled at her.

That was your second mistake. Ignoring the tension.

The dinner was filled with uncomfortable silence and salty remarks from some people. Louis ignored them and you tried to too but you just couldn’t, so when her father commented on how absent Louis was as a father and how he didn’t care about his son, you exploded. You snapped some nasty comments along the words about how Briana was selfish and all the luxury she had was because of the money Louis was providing her with. 

Everyone was shocked. Since you were always kind to them, always the one with a smile on her face. But with Harry only talking to you when necessary or only when you were around people, the stress from work and insecurity regarding to your relationship with Louis, it all took a troll on you. You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

After saying goodbye, he didn’t speak a word to you. Not one word. But once you entered the house he exploded and that’s what brought you two to this moment.

“What’s going on, YN?” he sighs and shakes his head, tired of all the fighting and yelling. “Because back there?... That wasn’t you! That was someone else.” He walks up to you with an upset look on his face. “What the hell is going on with you these days? I’m trying to understand but it seems like you’re slipping away from me day by day and I can do nothing other than watch you slip away!” he exclaims clearly frustrated by the situation.

He studies your face with a longing look and pulls you to him and cups your cheeks, “Talk to me, baby. I can’t handle this distance between us.”

You shake your head, you lift your hand towards his and place it over his, “Nothing…it’s just the work load-” you being to whisper but he cuts you off.

“Is it only about the work load? Are you sure?” he emphasizes on the sure. His eyes stare right into you and you can’t help but melt. Before the first tear can slip from your eyes he has his arms wrapped around you and your face nuzzled into his neck.

“I’m just so tired, Louis. I’m so tired. I’m tired of trying to please everyone. I’m tired of always being the one to make sure everyone happy… I’m just so damn tired!” You whimper and sob. He runs his palm down your back, trying to whisper sweet nothing into your ears, but the next words you say to him, makes everything clear to him.

“He won’t speak to me… He just won’t! I don’t know what more to do. I… He hates me!” you cry, shoulder shaking heavily under his arms.

The words you said held so many answers to the unanswered questions Louis had. So he did what he does best. Be there for you, because you needed him right now and also because he was selfish enough to have you for as long as he could.

--

“You know, he cares about you a lot.” she leans in to your side and whispers in your ears. You jump and snap out of your headspace not wanting to be caught staring at your best friend but looks like it’s too late, you look at her with confusion.

“Sorry...what?” you pardon and bite your lower lip.

“He cares about you...a lot. You’re one of the most, if not the most important person to him.” She repeats. You chuckle at her and shake your head.

“If you think you should be worried about me. You really shouldn’t, Ella.” you let out a nervous hesitant laugh.

The boys are just having a small get together and celebrating the success of their solo careers. They have done so well, all of them that you can’t be more proud of them. The amount of hard work they’ve put into this is admirable.

“Oh no… god no! I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant generally, and to be honest I wouldn’t disagree, YN. You really are an angel. That’s what he calls you, doesn’t he?.” She gushes. You blush and smile at her appreciatively.

“I’m no angel.” you shake your head. “He’s lucky to have you, El. You’re pretty cool too.” You whisper. She keeps her eyes on you until she notices that you’re starting to feel uncomfortable. Then she asks you a question she’s been dying to ask.

“Did you two, I don’t know… fight or something?”  You suck your lips into your teeth, not knowing what to say so she continues, “You hardly come around his house anymore. I was just curious, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“You know, to be honest. Your guess is as good as mine.” You try to explain. But just like you thought, she doesn’t quite get it. So you just smile at her and turn your attention back to the boy who calls you his, but you still don’t feel like you are.

*Harry’s POV*

Drinking helps they say. But in my opinion it just worsens the problems in our life, but we still don’t stop.

Why?

Because the high it gives you, makes you think that you can…that if you at least try then you can face the problems. Just like I’m trying to be happy for my problem. The beautiful, breathtaking problem in front of me, who’s right now laughing and dancing in the arms her boyfriend.

Yup. Definitely need loads of alcohol to get through this night.

“Stop, H.”

I turn towards the voice. I drunkenly giggle at him, “Stop wha’, mate?”

“Staring at them with so much envy. You’re being pretty obvious.” Liam puts a hand on my shoulder, “and drinking isn’t going to help at all.Trust me.”

“I’m being pretty obvious, you say? Well then how can she be so bloody damn ignorant?” I snarl, hating how Louis is making her giggle. That was supposed to be my job.

“You have a beautiful girl, mate. Pay attention to her. She good for you-” He tries but I cut him off.

“You know what’s good for me?” I look at him for a second then nod my head towards the couple I’ve been eyeing the whole evening, “That… That’s what good for me. That should be me, Liam. Me. But it isn’t, and I hate every second of it!” I say, taking another sip from the glass.

“Well if you truly love her the way you’re telling me you do, then all you should care about is her happiness. If she’s happy with him and he’s treating her right then what’s the problem with that? Be happy for her.” He explains. I shake my head at his delusion.

“If you think this is her being happy, wait until you see her she’s with me. We are perfect for each other, Liam. We both know it, but she keeps denying it because she doesn’t want to break his heart.” I turn to him with angst on my face, “So she breaks mine instead. Tell me how’s that fair?! She knows I’d do anything for her and she makes me do this. I’m clearly not happy with Ella. I want to be with YN but I can’t! I fucking can’t, and it’s not because I won’t be able to leave El for her, but because I know she won’t leave Louis for me.” I huff and try to blink away my pathetic tears away.

Liam stands there with a sad look on his face. I don’t want anyone to feel pity for me. But I’ve surpassed my limit of remaining mum about my situation. I need an outlet for it. So I do what I have control over and gulp the rest of the whiskey in my glass and order for another round, while Liam stands beside me, silent because there is nothing else he can do for me.

After I don’t know how many glasses for whiskey i have had and I’m pretty sure I’m very drunk, I walk towards what my heart desperately desires.

Liam is quick to excuse himself from the conversation he was having with Nick and tries to stop me. Looks like he is my babysitter for the night. I shake his hand off me and say, “I just want to dance with her, I’m allowed to do that, aren’t I? She’s still my best friend.” I slur then giggle, “It’s not like I’m going to kiss her or anything… Well if she wants me to then I’ll do it but we’ll see –”

“Harry, you’re drunk.” He speaks up but I shoo him off and walk up to her. She notices me and gives me small smile. She’s alone for the first time through the night, Louis isn’t around, I swipe my eyes across the room but can’t find him. He must’ve gone out for a smoke.

Suddenly a cynical thought appears in my mind out of no where and I change my mind about asking her for a dance; instead I walk up to Ella and pull her into arms. She jumps at the sudden force but before she can say anything I press my lips to hers and practically give her the kiss of her lifetime. I cup her cheeks and she wraps her arms around my neck. After what seems like a while I pull away and turn my head to where YN was once standing.

A quick rain of panic washes over me and I distance myself from Ella and search for her. She isn’t in the room.

Where did she go?!

I frantically look around and my eyes meet Liam’s. His disappointed look gives me the knowledge that he knows where she went, he turns his gaze towards the back exit. I apologies to Ella and quickly run towards the door.

I run pass the door and continue my search for her, that’s when I hear a sob near me. I look beside me and find YN leaning against the brick wall. I walk to her and quickly wrap my arms around her but she roughly pushes me off, just like she’s done for the past few months.

“You know” she laughs once “I don’t even know why I’m surprised.”

She’s laughing but I can see the hatred in her eyes. My anger and frustration returns. She’s been dancing and kissing Louis all night, and when I kiss my girlfriend, she had the guts to hate me for it.

“I can never win with you. I can never win with you! … I’m fucking miserable over here! I’ve almost… I’ve almost had to break my damn phone into pieces to keep from calling you every day. I watch you be happy with him, I keep quiet about my feelings for you just so you can be happy…and you’re mad at me?! You broke my fucking heart, YN!” I scream. I grab her shoulders and pull her close, “ Do you want me or not? You can’t keep doing this to me, Angel!”

“Why the hell did you follow me back here?” she tries to push me away yet again.

“I don’t want her” I say, staring at her lips, “I’m so fucking unhappy! Why can’t you see it?!”

“You’ve got her lipstick on your mouth, Harry.” She snarls, as if she had the right to feel disgusted. None the less I step back and lift my shirt to wipe my mouth, the red makes it impossible to deny. “I just wanted you to feel what I’ve felt for the past few months. The misery I’ve felt. Just for one night I wanted you to feel what I’ve felt.”

She quickly wipes off the one tear that escapes her eye and turns to walk away, I try to pull her back but because of the amount of drinks I’ve had she manages to out run me. She walks out on me. I sigh and slide down the wall. Sitting against it, pulling my knees closer to my chest. Her walking away takes me back to night we had in my kitchen, how my moment of weakness, a moment which meant a lot to me. It was the night where I finally confessed my feeling to her, just to have her walk away from me, just like tonight. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

“Because I’m in love with you….” I look into her eyes, following the shocked expression forming on her face.

“I’ve been in love with you since time I first laid eyes on you, and I know I should’ve said something but YN… I was nothing, and you… you were everything. I didn’t deserve you. When I though I did, you were already doing so well for yourself I couldn’t bring myself to distract you from it, or ruin it for you. But now I realize, I’ve been doing it all wrong for so long. I should’ve just walked up to you all those years ago and kissed you. I should’ve showed you my love for you.” I wipe the tear that falls, trying to gather my thoughts together. It is now or never.

“But now I’m too late. I used to pray to god that I want, someone to love me till I’m blue, that I want you to love me blue…” I choke.

“I love you, YN. I’m so in love with you, like a debilitating and paralyzing love.”

She looks at me with shock. Then what seems like forever she shakes her head, “No, H. That’s not possible.” She stammers. I interlace my fingers with hers.

“It is possible. It’s true, Angel.” I whisper. She pulls her fingers from my hands.

“No! It’s not! Ella is…. Louis… No. This isn’t happening now. Harry, this isn’t funny, stop this.”

Fury runs through me, ”You think I’m joking? You’re insulting me and my feelings, YN!”

“Why now?!” she whisper yells at me.

“Because I had to say something before I lose you to him forever.” I try to explain. She pushes me away and stops me from saying anything else.

 “We are best friends, Harry. That’s all. We can’t do this them. I can’t…Louis…Harry, he’s your best friend for fuck sake-” I shake my head at her words.

“You’re more important than anyone-” I begin but she breaks my heart by walking away from me and not looking back.

I open my eyes and get back up with a heavy heart.  She isn’t walking out on us again. She might’ve given up on us before we could even start, but I’m not going to.

I enter the room in hurry. It doesn’t take me long to catch her gaze. She shakes her head to say no, I’m next to her, and my stupid mouth is moving before my brain can tell it to get a damn grip.

“Come home with me.”

People are starting to stare, Louis is still isn’t around. But I couldn’t care less.

“Leave me alone, Harry.” She whispers, crossing her arms.

“Fine, then dance with me.”

“No.”

“YN...”

“No.”

She forces a smile on her face, “I’m waiting for Louis, so we can leave. Just like we planned to.” She drowns the rest of her wine, and then looks back at me with a cynic look. “So we can continue our lovely night without any unwanted interruption if you know what I mean.”

I stagger backwards, feeling like I’d just been punched. A unhealthy combination of anger, jealousy, and sadness settles in me.

“A toast!” I yell, and climb onto a table. On my way to the table I steal someone’s glass of whiskey and held it out in the air. Liam runs up to me, begging to get down and to stop embarrassing not only myself but YN too. I shove him off roughly, giving him a warning glare, “To pathetic losers!” I say, gesturing to myself. “And to girls that break your heart.” I bow to YN. My throat tightens, it’s getting painful to speak but I still continue, “And to the absolute horror of losing your best friend because you were stupid enough to fall in love with her.” I yet again bow to the girl of my dreams. I finish of the rest of the whiskey then toss the glass to the floor.

I struggle to get down; Liam and Niall come to my aid.

 I walk unsteadily towards her, and just before I blackout, I manage to utter my two words to her.

“Fuck you.”

-

 *Y/N’s POV*

I stood there, with my mouth wide open. No one uttered a word. The whole room was filled with haunting silence. Five minutes ago, happy mummers filled the room. Now it was pin drop silence.

The two men pull Harry’s unconscious body towards a chair.

Just when the thought of the night being over entered my mind; my ears are filled with a delicate voice calling out my name. I turn around to the person who’s voice I could recognize anywhere now.

There he stood with a devastating yet calm look on his face. The night was far from being over, I had no idea how it would end. There he stood, all in his royal glory. There stood the person who I knew no longer had the power to call me his.

There stood Louis.

-

So.. yeah. That just happened. Yup. I got carried away.

Was it worth the wait? Don’t worry, take a break. That was tough, I know.

I love you guys so much!

[word-bug]

A Cookie Disaster

Hey Kit ( @gingerchangeling ). So I am Vaish. I was your CSSS. I enjoyed getting to know you so much. I hope you like this little gift of mine.

Thank you @spartanguard for going over it. You’re a gem love.

Also available on: AO3

Cheers for the festival!

(A lil bit of imageset that I could do. Hopefully it’s not that bad! )

Killian prided himself as a patient man. He would never honk uselessly when stuck in a traffic. He never got riled up by petty taunts, much to Will Scarlet’s chagrin. And he would only get mildly irritated when Liam pulled his leg. In hindsight, he feels he should have fought a little bit more so that his elder brother would have been less insufferable. He always had been a precocious child in that regard, his mother used to say. But he didn’t feel bad about it. It was because of this patience that he had been able to break through Emma Swan’s walls. Given a chance, he’d do it all over again if it meant having Emma in his life.

Killian prided himself as a patient man but he was one incident away from tearing his hair out and reducing to a ball of tears. It was almost afternoon and nothing was right, and his sweet, amazing girlfriend was almost tipsy from the spiked eggnog he had kept for the evening. He could imagine the look of disappointment on Ruth’s - Emma’s adoptive mother’s - face when she would come in that evening and find nothing right. That brought in another wave of anxiety. He started to look for Emma, hoping to find some comfort in her arms, only to find her fiddling with the controls of the oven.

“Swan...” he shouted as he hastily made his way towards her, hoping to prevent the damage that may occur. But the beep of the machine and the burning smell that had started spreading in his apartment informed him otherwise. Emma was about to open the door when he caught her hand, not trusting that she wouldn’t get hurt.

“I am sorry, Killian,” she spoke as her lips formed a pout. She brought her hands to hold her ears but Killian stopped her. Drunk Emma was absolutely adorable and he didn’t want her to feel bad for him. Knowing her drunken self, he knew that her self loathing was just about to come.

“It’s okay, love,” Killian spoke, tucking away the wayward strands of hair from her face. She sighed as she closed her eyes, snuggling against his hand. He gently rubbed her cheek with his thumb as she brought her face closer to his hand. Killian smiled, seeing the calm that had descended on her face. She looked beautiful. He was absolutely besotted by her, whipped as Will called him, but he couldn’t care less. Killian Jones would destroy a thousand batch of cookies if this was the result. Thankfully, he was just on his second batch.

Leaning against the kitchen counter with Emma by his side, he assessed the damage that had been done. Under the oven’s orange light, the cookies looked absolutely charred and he knew they’d be far worse when he took them out. The bowl of spiked eggnog was almost half empty. The chicken was still sitting in its place, untouched and he thanked his stars for the small miracles. Some of the boiled potatoes were painfully mashed but some were still intact. Small victories, he thought.

His girlfriend, on the other hand, was finally out. She was playing with his shirt’s button, as she continuously dozed off against his chest. He smiled. Bending down, he picked her up bridal style as she broke into laughter swinging her legs like a kid and snuggling against his chest. Killian smiled, seeing her carefree like this. Emma Swan was a tough woman, shaped by her past. She didn’t open up easily. They had been going out for almost a year, yet there would be times when she’d close him off completely. She had a hard exterior, so it was quite a rare sight to see her like this.

Placing her gently on his bed, he moved around to place the comforter. She was dressed in his sweats, coming directly from a stakeout to his place. Her mother was coming in the evening and they were hosting her. Killian was grateful to Emma for coming to his place to support him. Ever since she had told him that her mother was coming to meet them on Christmas Eve, Killian had been extremely nervous. This was a huge step in their relationship. They hadn’t even said those three words. He knew how he felt, his feelings were on the tip of his tongue, but he was aware that Emma would run away in an instant if he said it out loud. He knew that she felt the same but she still wasn’t secure about her feelings for him and he was happy to wait. He was a patient man.

She curled herself, tugging the comforter close to her as she sought warmth. Her hair fanned across the pillow and Killian couldn’t help but marvel over his luck that this woman came to his life. Sitting near her, he tucked a strand behind her ear when she sleepily spoke.

“Killian… I am so happy that you’re in my life.”

He smiled seeing her like. He knew she couldn’t register whatever she was saying but he decided to indulge her.

“I am too love… I am too.”

“Killian...”

“Yes love?”

“Your raisin cookies are amazing. Too bad mom can’t eat it as she is allergic to it.”

And there went his third batch of cookies. He groaned thinking about the batter he had set aside to make his speciality. Killian loved cooking, especially baking. On their second date, when Emma had fallen sick, he had brought her food and Emma often joked that she had continued going out with him because he could cook. Whenever he visited Liam during the holidays, he’d inadvertently end up in the kitchen shooing Elsa away. It was like a stress buster for him. But today, cooking seemed to be giving him a headache. He started planning again when Emma spoke again.

“Hopefully next Christmas I’ll get to meet Liam.”

Killian let out a dopey smile seeing her like that. Emma had always talked in her sleep. He loved listening to her babble nonsense. But today it seemed she was in an affectionate mood. It warmed his heart to see her thinking about next year, especially together.

“He’s gonna love you, Emma,” he murmured, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. It was already two and he had to plan the dessert from the scratch. He started moving, when she turned holding his hand.

“My mum’s gonna love him… like me… I wish he’d stop worrying.”

He almost froze hearing her confession. He was sure that she wouldn’t remember when she’d wake up. But the fact that she could say it in her sleep made him ecstatic. It meant that she had started believing in him - in them - and that was the best gift he could ask for Christmas. Slowly, he extracted his hand out of her hold and got up. She had turned again and was holding his pillow, her breath completely even indicating she had completely fallen asleep. He watched her sleep from the door for a few more minutes before he went out to get started on the evening food. Sure, she was in love with him, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t kill him if he didn’t cook.

**

Emma groaned as she woke up, her head hurting like it could burst into a million pieces. She didn’t know what time it was or where she was, only having faint remembrance of standing with Killian near his over. Massaging her head, she looked around and found herself looking at Killian’s belongings. She sighed; so it wasn’t a dream. As she took the medicine put on the bedside table, she tried to remember why she had come there. The digital clock buzzed to alert her it was six in the evening. She turned around wanting to stop the shrill noise when she saw the date, it was 23rd December. Her mother was supposed to come meet them and she was late to pick her up. As she stumbled out of the bed, managing to get herself hurt from the table, she heard laughter and stopped short. It couldn’t be. For weeks Killian had been stressing about her mother’s arrival and he had gone and brought her to his place without her help? Surely she was dreaming. Stealthily she made her way to the door and saw her mom and her boyfriend sitting on the couch discussing something. She smiled seeing them like this. Not wanting to disturb the moment, she went back to make herself presentable.

If someone had told Emma a year back that she’d have almost one-third of her wardrobe at a guy’s house so that she could choose, she’d have called that someone nuts. But here she was. Somehow Killian had wormed his way into her heart. They had met by chance when she accidentally pushed him while chasing her perp, but he had helped her in taking the same perp down. After that, they had gone to a diner where they talked for hours. He had asked her out on another date and she ended up saying yes. When she fell sick and was unable to meet him, he had come bearing food for her and it had surprised her. That is what he did: he surprised her pleasantly. He had held her hand when she had told her about Neal and his abandonment due to a false pregnancy scare. He had waited for her when she felt that they were moving too fast and she had left. He had taken care of her when she got gravely injured after a chase gone wrong. Never once he had left her and she loved him for that.

Love - that was another surprise for her. The butterflies in her stomach whenever she saw him. Emma was waiting to gather enough courage to say the same to him because she knew without a doubt that he loved her too but was waiting for her.

She took the out the blush pink dress that she had saved specifically for this occasion. It was soft, feminine, and it made her feel safe. She knew she didn’t need to dress for the occasion as it was just a dinner with her boyfriend and her mom, but Killian had gone the extra mile and she felt he deserved the same. Opting to leave her hair loose, she made her way out when she heard her mom cajoling Killian to try to give one of his recipes.

“Sorry, Ruth… it’s the family secret,” he smiled as he took out the chicken from the oven.

“It’s vanilla, right? That’s the secret ingredient?” Emma found her mother pouting and she couldn’t help the laugh that broke out of her.

“The sleeping beauty awakes,” Killian smiled as Ruth made her way towards her. Engulfing her in a hug, she appraised her.

“Darling…. You look so beautiful. But you should have told me about it.”

“About what?” Emma looked confusedly at her. She thought she’d get an earful for not being able to pick her up.

“About the stakeout, Emmy,” Ruth spoke as she continued making a fuss over Emma. “Killian told me how you had an overnight stakeout and came late and just crashed. You shouldn’t work too hard.”

As Ruth started running her hands around Emma’s face, the latter chanced a look at her boyfriend who was trying hard to hide his grin. He even had the gall to tip the glass of eggnog towards her and Emma, being a mature adult, instead of being grateful to him for saving her ass, poked her tongue out.

“Dinner’s ready!” Killian called out as both the women made their way towards the table.

**

The dinner was a lively affair as Ruth regaled Killian with Emma’s childhood stories after she was adopted. With every passing moment, a sense of comfort settled within him. He was grateful to his girlfriend whose hand found his every now and then, and if Ruth saw the exchange, she never made a comment. After the dinner was over, Killian brought out the eggnog.

“You know darling, your boyfriend is an excellent cook,” Ruth spoke taking a sip, “Rum?” she asked Killian and he nodded.

“It’s one of the main reasons I am dating him, mum,” Emma giggled as Ruth joined her while Killian let out a dramatic sigh.

“I thought it was for my charming personality and devilishly handsome looks, eh, Swan?”

“Well… that certainly helps… but babe, I never hid that from you, did I? I am afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“There’s no other place I’d rather be, Swan,” Killian said, placing a gentle kiss on Emma’s forehead.

The dinner had gone amazingly well and he was sad that Ruth had to leave. He had never thought that the evening would go like this; the anticipation of this day had him up for so many nights, but here they were helping Ruth with her luggage.

“Cinnamon?” Ruth asked as they waited for the cab to arrive making him laugh.

“Close enough. It’s a family secret.”

“I know...” Ruth laughed. “I just hope that you share it with my daughter someday,” she winked at him as the driver helped them with her luggage.

“I hope for the same, Ruth. Safe travels.”

The elder woman gave him a hug that Killian returned with the same amount of affection. She made her way towards the daughter who stood there hiding her tears.

“Emmy… you know… if it wasn’t your aunt’s surgery, I’d have stayed.”

“I know, Mom… it’s just the dust that got into my eye. Nothing else.”

“If you say so, sweety,” Ruth smiled taking her daughter into a hug. “Don’t let him go. He loves you,” she whispered.

“And I him, Mom,” Emma spoke softly as she kissed her mother goodbye.

“Merry Christmas, Emma!”

“Merry Christmas.”

**

It was almost midnight when Killian and Emma cleared up the mess. They hadn’t spoken since they had returned after seeing off Ruth, working in comfortable silence. Emma appreciated it. It always became a bit emotional for her whenever she had to part from her mother. Ruth had taken her in when no one had and it had strengthened their bond. Emma loved her mother and it meant so much to her that she had ended up liking Killian too. She remembered how Ruth had barely accepted Neal once upon a time for Emma’s sake, and had refrained from saying ‘I told you so’ when the latter had returned with a heartbreak. So her acceptance of Killian carried a whole lot of weight.

As Emma made her way to the kitchen, she saw the cookies lying on the counter. She loved Killian’s cookies. It was artistic, the way he cooked, if someone could say that about cooking, and his raisin cookies were divine. She was completely full but she couldn’t resist taking a bite. As she took a bite, she was completely expecting the chocolate to attack her senses but found herself pleasantly surprised by the the flavor of honey and oatmeal.

“Babe… where are your raisin cookies? I thought I saw the batter when I came in the morning.”

“Huh?” Killian called out as he made his was out of the washroom.

“Where are your raisin cookies?”

“I threw them. Your mum is allergic to raisins, remember?” Killian called out as he started stacking the gifts Ruth had bought for them under the tree.

“You threw them? Are you insane? Wait… how do you know my mum has an allergy?” Emma asked confused, taking out another cookie. The cookies were amazing and she couldn’t stop eating them. But she couldn’t figure out how he knew that her mom had an allergy.

“You told me, love. So another Star Wars marathon or a Christmas movie?”

“Christmas. And no I didn’t tell you. I’d remember if I had.” Emma spoke hurriedly, trying to remember when she had told him. She’d remember, won’t she? Had she hit her head? Was  she dreaming? She was sick, wasn’t she? She was gonna die. Her brain started listing out numerous scenarios before she pinched herself to stop thinking. She had to cut out her time spent in watching soap operas. She looked towards Killian, who was busy looking for the movies - too busy, if the rigid set of his shoulders was any indication.

“Killian… I didn’t tell you to your face, did I?” Emma asked carefully, waiting for her lie detector to buzz.

“Well, technically you did,” Killian murmured, and if she wasn’t concentrating hard she’d have missed it totally. Taking the bowl of cookies she came to sit beside him.

“But...” Emma trailed waiting for him to complete it. The silence stood still when he let out a sigh and she knew she had won the battle.

“You weren’t exactly cognizant when you gave me that piece of information. I am glad though, else I wouldn’t have let myself live that down.”

“Killian… stop changing the subject.”

“Kay… When you had graciously helped yourself to eggnog and dozing off, you started talking in your sleep.”

Emma groaned, hiding her face. She didn’t want to know what else she had said. She had a tendency to blabber in her sleep. Killian found it endearing, but she found it infuriating even if she couldn’t hear herself. Ruth had always teased her that she’d spill secrets in her sleep.

“What did I say Killian?” Emma demanded, making Killian laugh as he brought her closer to him.

“Nothing much. You gave me some information about your mother. Though I never knew you wanted to visit my brother. I am not exactly thrilled about it though. He’d have a blast out of regaling you with the exaggerated childhood stories of mine. You said your mother would love me as...” he stopped not sure how to continue further. He knew what she felt but he didn’t want to corner her like that.

Emma almost stopped breathing as he trailed off towards the end of the conversation. She knew how that line ended, having recited the same countless times to appease her mind. She appreciated his gesture, but whether it was the eggnog or the fact that her mother approved, she didn’t want to hold it any longer.

“As I love you,” she whispered softly against his chest and she could swear she felt his heart skip a beat.

“I love you, too,” he spoke softly, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“I know,” Emma said as she moved away from his embrace so that she could kiss him properly.

Emma could swear Christmas had never felt merrier than this.

Merry Christmas to everyone! Best wishes for everyone.

[krokodile]

movies watched in 2017

wonder woman - it was...fine?  i liked it more than i’ve liked any other superhero movie, and the character driven bits (and some of the action sequences) kept my attention, but the longer fight sequences had me dozing off.  these types of movies just aren’t my thing.  as far as they go, though, this had more things for me to like than most of them do, and damn, gal gadot is charming af.

power rangers - the nostalgia movie boom seems to have skipped directly over my childhood.  transformers was a bit before my time; power rangers was a bit after.  but this movie looked entertaining enough for me to check it out, and...yeah, it was.  obviously i didn’t get any of the references or have any idea of how it worked as an adaptation, but as a kids’ action flick, it had a fair bit of heart and some really good performances.  god help me i am really starting to like elizabeth banks, which...if you’d told me this ten years ago, or even two years ago, i would’ve called you a damn dirty liar.  is it me, though, or was there not a ton of actual action?  not a complaint on my end, but i feel like it might have been for the people there for the nostalgia, or little kids there to watch the power rangers kick ass.  

the perfect host - i loved this so much i immediately made my mother sit down and watch it.  david hyde pierce is just the fucking greatest thing ever in this.  it’s also pretty damn amusing to realize that this character is, really, just what would happen if niles crane just snapped one day.  it’s a shitton of fun and i can’t recommend it enough.

war for the planet of the apes - really enjoyed it.  as with rise, i regret not seeing it on the big screen; it looks awesome.  andy serkis continues to be perfect.  woody harrelson is disturbingly hot as amon goeth but with apes.  i’m not proud of that last sentence but things are what they are.  the kid playing nova (who looks startlingly like a small linda harrison) is an absolute star - no dialogue, acting opposite a bunch of dudes in mocap suits, and you believe every fucking second of her performance just from her face.  it didn’t even OCCUR to me until the movie was over that, oh right, there weren’t actually apes there.  which also says a lot about just how goddamn well-acted those apes are.  i already mentioned andy serkis, but karin konoval deserves every bit as much credit and praise as maurice.  it’s not my type of film - rise was the one from this trilogy that was more my cup of tea - but it’s so flawlessly done that i really loved it regardless.

wind river - look, i hate that guy who says “this film is important.”  i don’t want to be that guy.  but i have to be that guy.  this film is important.  you need to see it, and with the understanding that this is based on a true story in more than one respect.  as the film takes care to point out, native women are the one demographic for whom missing persons records are not kept.  this is loosely based one on person’s precise experience, yes, but it’s also the truth of thousands of native women no one ever looked for; women whose families never had the hope of closure, let alone justice.  it’s the truth of countless women who are treated as objects by white men, who are raped, who are murdered and who are conveniently forgotten by law enforcement.  in 1978, the supreme court declared that white people couldn’t be arrested and prosecuted by native people for crimes committed on native land, and it’s only as of 2015 that non-native men can now be prosecuted through the tribal courts for domestic assault against native women.  

it’s also just excellent as a film.  i do understand the potential issues with having the main character be a white guy, and “white savior” complaints wouldn’t be out of line.  but i also have a feeling that the studio likely didn’t think this film would find an audience at all without a white lead, and they’d probably be correct.  jeremy renner, for what it’s worth, does well with the character, and while we didn’t really need the liam-neeson-in-taken-esque turn at the top of the mountain, it’s about what you’d expect from taylor sheridan.  

elizabeth olsen...can someone be declared a revelation twice?  because every fucking SECOND of her performance is flawless.  she won me over in martha marcy may marlene, and she’s grown so much as an artist since then.  her character is also well-used near the end of the film to pull focus away from the white leads to refocus on the victim, and...fucking hell, that scene should’ve earned olsen an oscar nomination.  it won’t; this film is criminally ignored.  whether it’s because of the weinstein connection or just because hollywood has hit its quota of “minorities in america” films for this year and the white powers that be have lost interest, i couldn’t tell you.  

the supporting cast, as well, is just spectacular.  gil birmingam is the unsung backbone of this film and his performance is glorious, managing to be both passionate and understated.  graham greene is impossible likable with amazing delivery.  martin sensmeier doesn’t have much screentime, but the minutes he does have are absolutely gutting.  teo briones has only a few scenes as jeremy renner’s half-native son, but he makes a real impression (and is the son of jon jon briones, which you have to love; i guess crazy talent runs in the family).  and kelsey asbille is given precious few minutes to make us fall in love with a young woman we all know is doomed, and she manages easily, although the fact that she isn’t actually native gives me some pause with regard to her being cast.  still, she does a great job with the role.  

it looks incredible.  taylor sheridan isn’t the person i would have expected to write or direct this one, but damned if he didn’t do some amazing work.  this movie deserves to be seen.  

personal shopper - if this movie doesn’t stop people from having that weird “kristen stewart can’t act” belief, i suppose nothing will.  this is her best performance yet, and yes i did see clouds of sils maria; she’s somehow managed to outdo her work in that film.  loved the movie for all its weirdness.  never knew what the fuck was going to happen from one moment to the next and i appreciate that.

eyes of laura mars - i can’t tell if this movie was supposed to be taken seriously or not.  i have that issue with faye dunaway movies a lot though.

amityville: the awakening - i’ve never liked an amityville movie - i  tolerated the aughts remake because chloe moretz was a friend’s client and it had melissa george (not sure if i knew who rachel nichols was at the time but if i did, that would’ve been another bonus) - and i have not started now.  

ingrid goes west - not really what i was expected tonally, particularly the ending.  didn’t love it, didn’t dislike it.  can i finally admit that i just don’t like aubrey plaza that much?  o’shea jackson jr. is fucking adorable though.  

serpent - i appreciated that there was actual effort put into this, but it was destined to be crap with the premise of “stuck in a tent with a snake for most of the film.”  unless it’s ian mckellen and patrick stewart, you’re just NOT going to enjoy watching two people sit in one place and do little of anything for an hour and a half.  (and really, you’re going to fight about your relationship NOW??  like, i’m a pretty petty person but damn.)

[artandteaandstuff-blog]

Princes and Princesses

Summary: Sequel to Kings and Queens. | Actor AU | Emma is finally getting used to life in the spotlight, thanks to hit TV show Kings and Queens. She has many people to help her along the way; her son, her friends and her boyfriend, Killian Jones. But changes are going to have to be made on Kings and Queens, and the world she’s getting used to is about to turn upside down, leaving her questioning if she ever really understood it at all.

Read it on FF.NET

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Kings and Queens.

Tagging some peoples right here:

@swanandapirate @kmomof4 @katie-dub@ofshipsandswans@dreadpirateemma @weplaydumbb@alys07@broadwaysprincess@storybrookeswans @teamhook @revolutional-procrastinator@snarkycaptainswan4 @galadriel26

Let me know if you want to be tagged! Or let me know if you would like to be un-tagged.

Chapter Five

KINGS AND KISSES.

Stars Emma Swan and Killian Jones share a Passionate Kiss on the Porch.

Killian slams the paper down on the kitchen table with a disgusted expression. Emma had been around his house last night for a meal and, yes, he had kissed her on the porch, but it was a peck, nothing more. There was no passion in it.

He intends to throw it in the bin, but curiosity gets the better of him and he opens the article. It's a huge double page spread, and right in the middle is a photo of Killian kissing Emma. Half of the photo is shrouded in darkness and obscured by leaves— the photographer must have been crouched in his rose bushes.

Paper clutched in hand, he makes his way over to the window and pulls open the curtain to peek through. Sunlight streams into the room.

Sure enough, patches of his grass is flattened. If he directs his gaze to the rose bushes, they're all all tangled and twisted. Half of the branches are snapped clean off, like someone has been sitting in them. Suppressing a growl, Killian lets the curtain fall and turns back to the article.

We have known for months that Kings and Queens stars Emma Swan and Killian Jones are together, despite neither of them confirming the rumours. As it turns out, this kiss is one of many. According to our source, they can't keep their hands off each other.

"They're always kissing on set," a source confirms.

Wrong, Killian thinks. He would like to have a word with this source and see exactly how they came to that conclusion.

"They're very touchy feel-y. Killian always has his arm around Emma. They've been late a few times because they've been with each other." And that's not all this source had to say.

According to them, Killian and Emma are hardly apart. They spend the majority of the time in each other's houses. Killian confirmed this himself a few months ago on the Teddy Norman show, claiming that Emma has even slept in his bed.

"We all saw it coming," the source tells us. "We knew it before they did. "They're madly in love. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a proposal soon."

"Fat chance," Killian scoffs, closing the paper. He can't even work up the courage to tell her he loves her. How is he supposed to propose?

He sighs as he fills the kettle with water, eyes flicking absently over to the clock. Half eleven. He isn't needed on set until tonight— it's a night shoot and he's in for a long haul. At least it's not cold. Filming will be unforgiving when winter comes.

He's in the midst of settling on the sofa with his tea and a couple of biscuits when the phone rings.

"Bloody hell." He mutters to himself, as he makes his way to the kitchen where the phone is.

He swipes it off the hook and presses it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Killian! Brother!" comes Liam's voice from the other end.

"Liam," Killian sighs, unable to suppress a smile. It's been too long since he's heard his brother's familiar tone. The voice that reminds him of home and all the good things that go with it. "How are you doing?"

"Grand, grand. What about you? How's work going?"

He makes his way back into the living room, keeping the phone cradled to his ear. "It's busy. We're in the middle of getting the scripts at the moment." He lowers himself back on the sofa, picking up his tea. "And filming is hectic. I have a night shoot tonight."

"Night shoot? Sounds bloody awful."

"It is."

"And how's… life?"

"It's good." Killian takes a sip of his tea. "Between filming, I've been trying to date Emma. I took her to that place we ate last you visited. Do you remember?"

"Yes, I remember." There's a pause. It's too long for Killian's liking. "You're still seeing her, then?"

His heart sinks. He tries to keep his voice natural as he says, "You know I am, Liam."

"Ah. I see."

An awkward silence overtakes them. Killian bites back a sigh, closing his eyes in frustration. He thought that swaying Liam towards Emma would be easy, but that doesn't seem to be the case. He believed that if Liam would just listen to him, he'd come to understand how special Emma really is.

But his brother is a stubborn man. After hearing about her past, he doesn't think she's good enough for him. Liam hasn't even considered the possibility of the reverse.

"I love her, Liam."

He's surprised by his own honesty. He hasn't said it out loud, not even to himself.

"Just be careful, okay?"

"She's not who you think she is."

There's a pause. Killian hates it when they argue like this. The few moments he spends speaking to his brother are precious. They shouldn't be wasted on petty fights.

"Anyway, I have some news," Liam says when the silence gets too much. "As much as I enjoy your company, dear brother, I rang you for a reason."

"Oh aye?"

"I'm getting married."

"What?"

He manages to spill half of his tea down himself in shock. Piss it, he thinks as he drops the mug on the coffee table. He hardly even feels the tea seeping through his shirt, onto his skin. He's too consumed by Liam's news. His brother? Engaged? He didn't even realise Liam was seeing anyone.

"Popped the question this morning." His voice is casual. "I thought you should be the first to know."

Too right.

"Who's the lucky girl?"

"Tink."

"Tink? As in the Tink you sent over to date me, Tink?"

What a turn of events. He'd laugh if he wasn't so startled.

"I didn't see it coming myself. We've been friends for years. I just didn't see what was right in front of me. It's only been three months…" His voice turns sheepish. "But when it's right, it's right. Isn't it?"

"It is," he says, though he's thinking is it?

He's never been able to tell when something's right. He may have found something special with Emma, but he doesn't know how long it'll last, especially with the media's hungry eyes watching them at all times.

Killian clears his throat. "Bloody hell, though. Congratulations! I'm so happy for you!" And he is, as the shock subsides and a grin lights up his face. His brother, married. "Have you set a date?"

"Not yet but we're thinking maybe a winter wedding. Tink loves the snow, but I think it's a long shot. You know how sparse the snowfall is here." He chuckles. "Anyway, I should go. We're supposed to be meeting Tink's parents for dinner in an hour, and this phone call is probably costing a bloody fortune."

Dinner? Damn timezones.

"Alright, Liam. Text me with Skype times, yes? I need to congratulate Tink."

"Of course! I'll speak to you later, brother. Take care."

"And you."

After they hang up, Killian is still smiling.

Marriage. He shouldn't have been surprised. He always knew Liam would be the first to get married, having never harboured the same relationship insecurities that Killian has. And Tink is a good match for him. She's feisty; Liam needs someone like that.

But the idea of a wedding creates a little bubble of worry in Killian's chest and his smile falters, just for a moment. How is he supposed to take Emma to the wedding when Liam is so against the mere idea of her? But he can't show up alone, and he can't take anyone else, not when he's in a committed relationship with Emma.

No, she'll have to come with him. Hopefully Liam will come around.

But maybe Liam's feelings— or lack of— are a good thing. After all, if Liam saw Emma the way Killian did, he's fairly sure his brother would be in love with her too.

The night shoot begins at nine, just when the sun starts to go down and darkness casts its shadows.

When he arrives on set the first thing he does is look for Emma, but she isn't anywhere to be seen, not even in the costume department.

Thanks to the amount of armour he has to wear for the next scene—a fight scene—costume takes almost an hour. But he can't complain; he adores the fighting scenes. It's typical, but he loves the feeling of a sword in his hand, swinging it, hearing the rush of wind as it cuts through the air. It reminds him of when he and Liam used to bash wooden sticks together as boys.

The scene is with Toby, Graham's character.

Killian hobbles onto set feeling very much like a tin can. His hair sticks to his forehead and the back of his neck. Even though the evenings have been cooler recently, it's still too hot for his liking.

"Wow, you look warm," Graham says as soon as he sees him. He wears his brown, old servant rags, a stripe of mud covering one side of his face.

Killian manages a tight smile. He doesn't consider himself a jealous person, but every time he sees Graham he remembers when he kissed Emma. He saw them the once—Emma wrapped up in Graham's arms, his lips on hers.

He shakes his head. That was before they were even together. And he doesn't for one second think that Emma and Graham would kiss now, but he has been known to hold a grudge.

He offers Graham a warmer smile. "Hey mate, how are you?"

"Hot." He wipes his hand across his forehead and through his curls, which stick up in every direction. "Ready for winter."

"You won't be saying that when the snow comes."

Hercules, the stunt director makes his way over to them. Unlike them, he doesn't look very warm at all. In fact, he looks as perfect as usual, not a dark hair out of place, not a drop of sweat on his brow. It's almost like he was carved by Gods. He carries two swords, a smile on his face. The three of them have become quite pal-y, since they've been working together all week, perfecting the sword play.

"Do you guys remember what you're doing?" he asks, holding out the swords.

Graham accepts his. "I'm sure I'll remember it when we get started."

"Aye, me too."

"Great—we'll get started in five."

He turns and disappears across the grass, over to where Grumpy stands. They begin talking immediately, and Killian can make out a few booming words coming from Grumpy's mouth, such as 'weight', 'pull' and 'lunch later'.

Killian places his sword in his sheath and turns to face Graham, ready to make polite conversation. He plans to ask him something about his girlfriend, Ruby. Emma has been telling him that they've been getting quite close recently. But Killian isn't sure exactly how much of that he should know.

But Graham is preoccupied, looking across the field, eyes narrowed. The expression strikes Killian as odd, since Graham is usually so kind faced. He follows his gaze to a man shrouded in leather, with dark hair and stubble.

"Who's that?" Killian asks.

"His name's August. Emma told me."

Killian frowns. "I've never seen him before."

"Apparently he's one of the new actors. He's playing a prince."

Since when did they have other princes?

Like he can feel them watching him, August turns his head and looks in their direction. His mouth twitches into a half smile and he begins to move. He's halfway across the field before Killian realises he's heading towards them.

"Huh," Graham says.

August comes to a stop in front of them. He offers them another one of those half smiles.

"Hey," he says. He has a smooth voice. "I thought I'd come and say hi. I'm one of the new actors. I'm—"

"August," Killian finishes for him, holding out his hand. "Graham told me."

He gives Graham a look. "Graham? I don't believe I've had the pleasure."

"Emma told me." he says, in way of explanation. They shake hands too.

"Ah, Emma." He smiles, eyes twinkling. And then he turns to Killian. "You must be Killian Jones, right? Emma Swan's boyfriend?"

Killian can't help his grin. "Did Emma actually use that word? Boyfriend?"

"Uh… no, actually." August gives an awkward laugh. "She didn't mention you. But you two are all anyone can talk about at the moment. On set and off."

"Oh, right." He's not entirely sure how he feels about that. Not because he has a problem with being Emma's boyfriend - God knows he's unworthy of the honour - but because he's not sure how she'll feel about it.

Though she is the one who said they're in a relationship…

He shrugs it off and smiles again. "How are you enjoying your first week?" he asks August, trying to make conversation.

"Great, thanks. I keep getting lost, though. Mulan - is that her name? - keeps shouting at me for it. I've been late a few times. That Isaac doesn't like it when people are late, does he?"

"I feel you there, mate."

He's going to have to make sure he's never late ever again, especially if Isaac is hanging out on set. He doesn't seem to be here today.

"I should be okay after today, though. Emma's offered to give me a tour."

"That's nice of her."

I'm surprised, he almost says, but stops himself. She tends to keep to herself. God knows, he had a hard enough time just making polite conversation with her when they first met.

August's eyes sparkle again. "You've got a keeper there, Killian."

"Thanks."

He's spared from further conversation with August by Grumpy, who marches over to them, followed closely by Hercules. He shakes his clipboard at them as he comes to a stop.

"Right, let's go. We're running behind. You guys better be on top form today."

"I'm always on top form," Killian says, flashing a winning smile. "The best form there is."

Grumpy slaps him on the back. "Can't argue with that."

The sword fight is gruelling. The sun combined with his armour creates a sweltering heat trap he is unable to escape from. When he's not cursing the sun for the heat, he's cursing it for his lack of vision. Everything is too bright, too painful.

Grumpy makes them do it over and over again until they get it right.

Clang, clang, clang, as Killian and Graham hit their swords against each other. Hercules shouts actions at them, and reminds them about their footwork. Killian has to be reminded about his footwork quite a lot, which results in a bloody hell every time he gets told off. Graham is practically flawless.

"It's like I was born to sword fight," he chuckles after, when they strip off from their costumes in the trailer.

Killian's shirt is completely stuck to him. He has to peel it from his skin, and he throws it in the washing basket. Graham seems to be less sticky - but then again, he hasn't spent the whole time in armour.

Graham hesitates in the door of the trailer. "You coming?"

"I will, but I'm gonna grab a quick shower first." He has to do a scene with Emma later - she won't appreciate it if he's unclean, especially since they'll be getting up all close and personal.

"Okay, I'll see if I can find Emma. I'll see you soon, Killian."

"Alright, mate."

By the time Killian finishes his shower, he's hurried straight into hair and makeup by a ruffled Mulan, ready for his next scene with Emma.

Ariel re-washes and re-styles his hair. This time he's going to be in his chamber, in his full kingly costume. They don't usually do outside scenes and on-set scenes together, but since Killian and Emma were three hours late for work the other day, they have little choice.

He wears his knee-length red jacket over a maroon tunic. Ariel places one of the many crowns on his freshly curled hair. By the time she's finished, he looks good as new. He examines himself in the full-length mirror, watching his coat swish as he moves.

"Killian," Mulan calls from outside the trailer. "Get a move on. They're waiting for you."

When he arrives in Alexander's chambers, everyone is already there; Grumpy, Emma, the actresses that play her handmaidens' and, to Killian's surprise, August. They're stood off to the side, talking. August says something and Emma throws her head back and laughs.

He approaches them.

"Killian!" He can't help but feel satisfied at the way her face lights up into a smile when he sees her. "This is—"

"August, I know. We met earlier. He was watching Graham and I's swordfighting."

She blinks in surprise. "Oh, right."

"I'm back again," August says, with that same half-smile he was wearing earlier. "I'm just watching various scenes, trying to pick up some tips for when I start filming. Do you have any?"

"Tips? I'm not sure." He scratches the back of his head. "I suppose you've just got to make sure you know all your lines. It makes the process as painless as possible."

August folds his arms. "That would help."

Emma indulges August in a smile before she returns to Killian. "Does that mean you know all your lines?"

"There aren't many lines," he says. He doesn't mean his voice to come out so teasing, but it just does so. She bites her lip in response, turning away from him.

And that's not strictly true. There's one line that Killian isn't sure he'll be able to say. The one that they haven't even said to each other yet. One that feels too close and too personal. Too real. His heart picks up at the thought.

It's just acting.

It doesn't help that they're doing one of those pesky sex scenes; the one Grumpy relieved them of last week.

"Killian, Emma," Grumpy bellows, making them jump. "Are you ready to go?"

They confirm that they are and the make-up people are whirling around them, styling his hair, adding powder to his face. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see them touch up Emma and adjust her dress. Her dress is beautiful today. The lilac tone brings out the pink in her skin.

On Grumpy's commands, they get into positions. Killian stands by the window, looking out into the fields. Or the green screen, in this case. He frowns, Alexander deep in thought, and places his hands behind his back. Alexander's signature stance.

Emma stands off set, just under the arch of Alexander's chamber, waiting for Grumpy's action. It comes, as loud and as commanding as ever and just like that, Killian finds his character as quickly as possible.

He feels Emma approach him.

"Apologies, Your Grace. I'm just here to change your linen."

Killian turns around and for a moment, his struck expression is entirely his own and not Alexander's. The lighting catches her just right, creating a halo of white around her. She offers him a smile, and it's so different from a smile Emma would normally give him. It's so tentative, so worried.

"You know you don't have to call me that, Rose," Killian says.

She gives him a look. "Things are different now."

"They don't have to be."

His heart is hammering in his chest. He can feel it in his ears. The line is close.

"You're the King. And I'm…"

"The woman I…" He pauses. The words feel too close to his heart. "I…" Say it. It's acting. It's not real.

"Cut," Grumpy calls. He marches over to them.

Killian buries his head in his hand. He can feel the heat in his cheeks. More importantly, he can feel Emma's eyes on him, watching him. What must she think of him?

"What happened?" Grumpy asks.

"Nothing. I simply forgot my line." He gives an empty smile.

Grumpy gives him a strange look. "Well, don't forget it again." He marches back off set and takes his chair near one of the cameras. "We'll go from Emma's line. Action!"

Emma peers up at Killian with wide eyes. "You're the King and I'm…"

He swallows. Why is his mouth so dry? It's only acting. It's just acting. He swallows again. "The woman I…" He takes in a breath of courage, praying Emma will mistake it for acting. "The woman I love."

She stares up at him, her eyes still wide. Emma never seems to have that wide-eyed look Rose possesses. It's like magic. And, just like that, her eyes fill with tears, and one drips down her cheek. It's frightening how quickly she can do that.

Killian remembers the next lines of the script.

Unable to believe his words, unable to believe that a king could love someone like her, Rose grasps him by the collar and pulls her to him. They exchange a passionate kiss.

And that's exactly what she does. As soon as she presses her lips to his, he forgets what he's supposed to be doing. He has to fight to remember, but then he recalls that the script says something about Alexander and his hands in her hair. He moves his hands up to tangle in her soft locks as he kisses her.

"Cut."

They break apart instantly and Killian is reminded of their first on-screen kiss. He didn't want to let go then, afraid he would never get to hold her again. It's amazing to think that now he doesn't have to let go. He gets to kiss her whenever he wants to.

"Right, guys," Grumpy says, rubbing his hands together. "Belle's not here at the moment, but I think she'll like it if I add some more romance in here. So Killian, you have to pick Emma up."

Killian places his hands on his hips. "Bridal style?"

"No, the other one. Where Emma's arms are around your neck."

"Okay," Emma says, nodding.

"Positions." They hardly have time to get ready before Grumpy yells, "And action."

And just like that, Killian and Emma are kissing again. He tries to remain as professional as possible, though he can't help but wonder what other people in the room are thinking, now everyone knows they're together. Emma's lips are soft on his, but they have a robotic feel. She is able to detach herself. He however, struggles not to get lost in the moment, something he has never struggled with before her.

Her fingers curl around the nape of his neck, but below his hairline, exactly where he likes. He's oddly aware of the sound of them kissing, and the way she purrs into him. He dips down and places his arm at the top of her legs, lifting her up. She wraps her arms around his neck, still kissing him, and they stumble backwards towards the bed.

They fall back into the mattress, completely improvised, and both laugh out loud.

"Cut," calls Grumpy. "Stay where you are. That was gorgeous. Really beautifully. Belle will love it."

"Great," Emma says, slightly breathless. Killian chuckles in her ear.

"Okay. Now I want it to be really slow. Lots of slow neck kissing. Really draw it out."

God's sake, Killian thinks to himself. Usually their love scenes are fast and he's able to get it over as quickly as possible, like ripping off a plaster. Grumpy must really be trying to make Belle happy.

"Action."

Killian kisses her again, softly, slowly, drawing it out. He tries to think about what looks good but her hands are in his hair and she's gently tugging on the strands. Part of it makes him cringe in embarrassment. The fact that there's a room full of people watching something that should be private to them puts him a little on edge.

But, he's a professional.

He kisses down her neck.

Slow.

Slow.

Slow.

Grumpy makes him kiss her every which way. Down the other side of her neck - claiming something about camera angles - right down to her collarbone, across the exposed bit of her chest. He makes him drag his fingernails through her hair. For Emma, he makes her strip him of his jacket, and throw it across the room. She unbuttons his shirt. He tries not to tremble as she trails her fingertips down his stomach.

He makes him undo her corset and he makes him bite her seven times - seven - until they get the right angle. He makes him kiss her again and again until their lips are red and swollen.

"Cut," comes a voice that's not Grumpy's.

Killian looks up from Emma's neck and straight across the room into the eyes of Isaac. He's watching them, hands clasped in front of him, face expressionless. Funny. Killian hadn't realised he was there.

"I think that's enough," he says. "We need to move on."

Grumpy looks between Emma and Killian to Isaac, a frown on his face. He doesn't say anything for a moment. Everyone watches him, waiting for a sense of direction. Eventually, he gives a slow and serious nod.

"Okay, that's it. Great job, guys. Super sexy. Belle will adore it."

Killian pulls himself off Emma. He holds out his hand and pulls her up. She's flushed - from embarrassment or because he was practically crushing her, he doesn't know, but she's not meeting his eyes. It could be worse, he thinks. At least they're not making them do naked scenes together.

Yet.

They walk out off set together, back to the trailers. Emma is silent the whole time, and he doesn't look at her. He's too embarrassed. It's strange. He never finds himself embarrassed when it comes to Emma, but kissing her in front of everyone was one of the strangest experiences of his whole life. It was different from other love scenes.

Maybe it was the I love you, says a voice inside his head. He shakes his head, feeling his cheeks warm just thinking about it.

They make their way to the trailers. He turns to speak to her, to say something, but she's looking at him with a fierce look in her eyes. He raises his eyebrows. "What?"

"Is your trailer free?"

"Well, I'm not in it?"

"Not yet. But we need to finish what we started."

His eyes widen. "Emma - love - on set?"

She shrugs. "What can I say? You're a good kisser."

She pushes him up the steps to his trailer and he complies, chuckling. "But I'm still wearing my costume."

"Good."

"Emma Swan!"

He chuckles again, but she means business. They don't return until Mulan is banging on the trailer door, telling them that they're needed on set. Now.

[woozapooza]

Pretty Little Liars: The Verdict

This show was trashy and nonsensical. In other words, exactly what I signed up for.

It would have been more fun if I hadn’t known who A #1, A #2, and A.D. were ahead of time, but there were plenty of sub-mysteries that kept me guessing, so that was great.

I’ve seen a lot of posts talking about plot holes and things that were never tied up, and I’m sure they have good points, but I’m not going to pretend to have followed the show well enough to judge how much sense it ultimately made. It’s so complicated and there are so many mysteries, hints, secrets, and characters to keep track of, I certainly am not an expert on all of them.

I kind of wonder if the writers’ strategy was “let’s keep the audience too confused to criticize the show.” 

Ezra/Aria is trash because Ezra is trash. That was the worst thing about the show and it blows my mind that the writers went there. I hear that in the books, they are not endgame? Why on earth did the show change that? I wish Aria had filed that police report. It wasn’t petty, for the most part. It was 100% justified.

Spencer/Toby is the OTP!!! But I was weirdly okay with Spencer/Caleb and am surprised at how much fandom dislikes that pairing.

The finale was so weird and rushed. Alex was fun if only because she gave Troian something new to do, but she was so contrived and forced. Her execution was lackluster. Also, not thrilled that it was never addressed that she and Mary both committed rape by deception. I know it’s canon that it was Alex who had sex with Toby in 7x18, but I refuse to believe that it was also Alex and not Spencer in 7x20.

Another thing I’m not thrilled about: Yvonne having to die (how DID she die, btw?? I’m kinda convinced that Alex poisoned her) to make way for Toby/Spencer, especially a show with so few black characters. Sabrina, Paige, Jordan, Liam, Nicole, and Marco all get to just walk away to make room for endgame couples, but Yvonne has to die :/

I came around to Emily/Alison because it was sufficiently clear that Alison regretted being such a bad person and was determined to do better. That pregnancy plot was really weird and borderline mystical pregnancy but it was nice that they ended up mothers. I live for happy wlw/mlm endings. I wish we could have seen their wedding. By the way, if Alison had a fancy proposal planned, when Emily started grilling her about what she and Pam had been talking about, why didn’t she say something like “it’s a really good surprise and you’ll find out soon”?

God, do I love Mona.

I think people who say that the ending with the next generation of liars was silly are taking the show more seriously than it deserves. That said, I wouldn’t have ended the episode like that. I probably would have ended it with Mona being weird in her doll shop.

A lot of people are complaining about the part where Toby asks the Spencers what their favorite poem is in the book she gave him is, because it wasn’t Spencer who gave him the book, it was Alex. I’m not really bothered, though. First of all, it’s possible that the when the audience is seeing flashbacks to times Alex was mistaken for Spencer, Alex was describing those moments to Spencer, so Spencer might have known about the gift. Second, even if she didn’t know, it’s not implausible that she could have guessed. If Alex gave that book to Toby, if Toby knew it was full of annotations, if Spencer can recite one of the poems, I think we can assume that that book was very dear to her. Perhaps it’s her favorite poetry book, and perhaps that poem is her favorite poem, period. Perhaps she’s recited it and raved about it to Toby tons of times. So it’s not unrealistic that Spencer heard “favorite poem” and knew what Toby was referring to. Sure, this explanation requires some work on the viewer’s part, and okay, maybe I just don’t want that romantic moment to be ruined by sloppy writing, but I’m satisfied with my explanation. I love it when Troian speaks French 😍

TV characters always settle down so young. I’m 22 and I’m not going to be married with children and a steady job when I’m 24.

I hate Jenna but it was fun seeing her verbally smack down Addison.

I was disappointed that Charlotte ended up being straight-up evil. I really thought she had a soul in there somewhere.

The funniest line was either “You almost froze Aria and Spencer to death!” “Almost!” or “I have a master’s degree in American literature. There is nothing I can’t handle.”

Bashful Hastings the horse is the real hero of PLL.

Did I mention that I hate Ezra?

I LOVE THE WINE MOMS AND I WANT TO KNOW HOW THEY GOT OUT OF THE BASEMENT

Despite some HUGE flaws, I enjoyed this show.

– A

[imnovampire]

III

The next round of flyers was found the following morning. Taped to doors in the night, with no more then twenty recipients. Time and location remained the same. Sherlock had kept track of the last players to see if anything unusual happened to any of them. It had. James Harper, suddenly went back to America. "Honestly you don't find it a bit strange that a third year from the states just abandons everything and leaves unannounced. His friends said he hadn't said a word about leaving. Quite the opposite in fact. They say he went to see the dean and oh...!" "What?" Sherlock's sudden pause made Irene jerk her attention back to him. "Not sure. I need to think." Sherlock pushed his cup aside and made to stand. "I don't think so." Irene tilted her head in the direction of the coffee shop door where John had just come in with a cold wind behind him. He caught Sherlock's eye and made a beeline for him. "Mind if I join you?" John smiled down at Sherlock. "You do know I exist right? I mean you can see me here, next to him." Irene looked baffled. "Yes Irene. I see you there. But just barely." John offered her his best smile. "Sit John, and don't pay Irene any attention." "Hadn't planned on it." John said nicely. Irene rolled her eyes. "Oh you two twats are perfect for each other." "I agree. Now if only I could convince him." John reach across the table for Sherlock's hand. Sherlock didn't pull away. Sherlock gave Irene an incredulous look. "And what would you know of us being perfect for one another?" "You're not really asking are? Because if you are I could go on for days! For starters neither one of you can even see anyone else when the others around. Posh boy here goes all deep voice and bashful at the sight of you, and you Dr. Watson, exhibit the most seductive bed side manner I've ever had the pleasure to witness. Just shag already." Irene blew Sherlock a kiss and winked at John as she went out to smoke ignoring his murderous glare. "I think I like that." John grinned. "What is it exactly that you think you like?" Sherlock asked. John laughed at the poorly concealed jealousy in Sherlock's rich tone. "Posh boy. It fits. Speaking of fits. I have something for you." John pulled a soft wrapped bundle from his bag. "John...I'm not very good with gifts, giving or receiving..." "It's not a gift, it's something you need if you're going to be out there in the cold watching me play." Sherlock opened the plane brown paper bundle. "Is it a kitten?! Oh please say it's a kitten!" Irene twaddled as she returned from the cold. "If kittens are made of blue cashmere then yes Irene, it is in fact a kitten. Thank you so much John. It's...perfect." John stood took the plush blue scarf and looped it around Sherlock's neck, letting his fingers deliberately brush the slider column causing a visible shaver in the younger man. John smile at the reaction he had won. John leaned in speaking the words close to Sherlock's ear. "Now it's perfect." And brushed a kiss to his cheek. "See you at the game. Goodbye Irene." Sherlock felt a heat rise in his face. "Goodbye Dr. Watson." Irene nodded her approval. Sherlock watched John blaze across the pitch and was stunned. Sherlock never would have thought that he could find John any more attractive then he already did. He had been abundantly wrong. Watching him practice was one thing, but seeing him play caught up in the frenzy of the game, the power and the agression, the leadership, and control. John was the picture of male beauty. Watching John in his element on that failed sacred Sherlock to death. This man was so far beyond his knowledge. So out of his lègue. Sherlock had to stop this before he found himself in ruins. "Irene. I can't." Sherlock tugged on Irene's coat sleeve as she was standing up making some sort of lud gesture to the apposing team. "What are you on about?" Irene sat, took a drink from her flask and passed it to Sherlock who took it without question. "He'll tear me apart. I can't survive John Watson. I can't." Sherlock shoved the flask back in her hand and particularly ran from the field before she could say a word. Irene followed as quickly as she could. Once outside the pitch, Sherlock wasn't hard to spot. "Sherlock you stop this instant! Sherlock! I know you hear me!" Irene was being flat out ignored. "William Sherlock Scott Holmes!" That did the trick. Sherlock whipped around to glare at her. "You forced my hand so don't give me that bloody look!" "I don't want to talk Irene Isabella Elizabeth Adler!" Sherlock threw the words at her. "Stop being petty! I don't care who knows my name, and I don't give a damn if you want to talk! I'm not going to let you muck this up!" "Irene he'll destroy me! If I saw this exact scenario playing out in front of me I would call myself a fool and you know it!" "Stop this Sherlock! He's not Thomas! I know how badly Thomas hurt you, I know that he was lovely to you behind closed doors. And I know how betrayed you felt when he denied you in public. But John Watson, is not Thomas Shipton. Will John break your heart? Maybe. I don't know. But he'll never betray you. He's mad about you. And you're mad about him. Don't let that pass." "Take the chance?" "Yes." Irene released a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. Sherlock stared at her a long moment worrying his bottom lip. "No." He left without another word. ~~~ Irene went back to the pitch. The game had ended with a win for the Kings Men, and John though happy for the his team and the win, Irene could see him searching the stands with disappointed eyes. Once they fell on her they headed towards each other. "John I'm sorry. He's left. He's scared to death. He just needs time to think." Even as Irene said the words she knew that that was the last thing Sherlock needed to do. Given time he would rationalize a million different bullshit reasons to run away. "Sod this. Talk to him. He's a fool John and he's scared." "Scared. He's a grown man!" John was upset and disappointed. "Yes he is. A grown man with limited knowledge in relationships who lost his virginity to a prick who publicly shamed him as a lying fagot." John's reaction was visceral. The urge to vomit was nearly overwhelming. Unable to speak. Too many emotions rushed through him. First of which was a murderous rage for Thomas Shipton. Second was anger at himself for being blind to the obvious. Third was a fierce determination. Sherlock was precious, and if it took a life time John would make certain he knew it. He smiled to him and started to leave. Irene was confused. "So that's it? You're just done?" "Hell no! I'm ass over teakettle for him." John's smile was spread across his face and he ran off without a second glance. Irene rolled her eyes and stared after John's back."And that's why I like girls." ~~~ John looked at the clock above the bar for the bezillonth time and went back to watching his teammates enjoying their win, drunk laughing and singing and wished he were somewhere else. With someone else. With Sherlock. After talking with Irene it had been hard to come to the pub and celebrate, yet as team captain he had a duty to his mates, and so he sat. But some how every thought led back to the gorgeous young man and how much John wanted to simply be with him. In his presence. This thing between them it felt like...madness. To think of Sherlock made John's heart ache in the most beautiful way. It felt like...oh God. Oh fuck. Greg took a seat next to John. "You look like you've seen a ghost mate." Greg sat a fresh pint in front of John. "Greg, I think I'm in trouble. " John sounded genuinely worried. "Sherlock?" Greg asked. "Yep." John's gaze was far off. "What's the plan then?" "No idea." "How bad?" "As bad as it gets." Greg finally turned to look at his friend. "Maybe you just need to get him out of your system, yeah?" John made a sound that could pass for a laugh. "Hell I'm afraid to even touch him." "What?! You mean you haven't shagged him senseless yet?" "Nope." "Shit." Greg said in a reverent whisper. "Yep." "John..." Greg had been friends with John since primary school and he knew John as well as he knew himself. John was most certainly in trouble. "Told you." John threw back the rest of his pint and stood up. "I leave you in charge of the the boys. Don't let Pipin get out of hand and make sure Seth gose home with Liam." "And where are you going?" "Quite possibly to make a fool of myself." "Right then." Greg raised his glass. "Cheers." ~~~ Sherlock lay on his bed in the dark going over every second he'd spent with John Watson. Each one more prized then the last. Oh but the risk. With Thomas there had been pain, but mostly of pride. With John there would be so very much more. How had he let himself fall this far on so little. The thought of letting John in teetered between terrifying and thrilling. A knock at the door broke Sherlocks considerations. "Go away!" Sherlock yelled. "Sherlock." John called through the door. Sherlock's eyes flew open and before he knew what was doing he'd rushed to the door. "John, I thought you'd be with your team." "Can I come in." John's voice was low and intensity radiated from him. "What do you want John?" Sherlock didn't trust himself. "I want you. To just...be with you." His honesty was raw. "To what end?" "To no end." Sherlock started to close the door. He was afraid. But not of John. Of himself and his overwhelming desire to let this man in. Not in his flat, in his life. His heart. His mind. His bed. To just have John flood his world. "I know what Thomas did to you. I know why you don't trust me. But I'm not him and I won't hurt you. Ever. I'm a good man." "Not a very modest one." "Modesty is overrated. Please." He opened the door and let John pass. They turned to face one another seemingly pushed together by the darkness, a soft yellow glow from the street cast shadows in the trace of distance left between them. John couldn't seem to find enough air and his chest heaved, Sherlock moved close looking down at John silently asking... "John." Pure honey. It flowed into Johns very soul. "I have never...wanted anything the way I want you. But I will not touch you until you give me permission." John was solemn. "Kiss me." "Oh God." The words rushed out of John as a shaky exhale. To any on looker John would have appeared nervous. His breath was quick and he was nearly vibrating. But he was far from nervous. He was burning alive. His need to devour Sherlock was so great, John clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides trying to find some calm. "Will you make me beg?" The question was innocent enough and yet... John slid one hand down to the small of Sherlock's back, the other firmly on the side of his neck as his thumb moved along Sherlock's jawline. "One day...yes. But not today." Sherlock moaned low into John's mouth as their kiss became a firestorm. Both being drawn into the blaze, caught up in the current. Clothing seemed to burn away. Once naked John rubbed his harsh stubble cheek over Sherlock's pale skin, leaving a trail of pink across his chest down his abdomen to the edge of dark curls. Sherlock yielded his body to John's desire and skill. And oh what skill it was. John left Sherlock smoldering over and over one well pleased kiss away from inferno. "John I need you." Sherlock's voice raspy, his hands screeching, digging into flesh, thin fingers finding John's satin hot rock hard length. They both jerked at the touch. Sherlock felt his stomach roll and his own cock quiver. "Let me have you." He tugged gently. Possessively. Sherlock used his voice to advantage. John groan and very nearly came in Sherlock's hand. John needed to talk but could barely form one word. "Condom." John said the word in hot breath against the inside of Sherlock's thigh. Sherlock produced a condoms from the nightstand. "This time. But not forever." John smiled at forever, and soon they were lost to a fire that was impossible to control. Sherlock rocked into John's thrust seeking the center of the storm together. John's body spasmed deep inside Sherlock and brought the younger man a shuttering climax. John lay against Sherlock's chest, still inside him, Sherlock's long legs loosely wrapped around John, both light headed floating and dangerously close to speaking the words that had led them to this moment. Sherlock ran his hands down John's back and smacked his bottom as he disentangled himself. John watched him walk across the room with unconscious grace. Sherlock came back to bed with a clean flannel. John jerked at Sherlock's intimate touch. "You were perfect." Sherlock kissed John's chest. "I was just thinking the same thing. You know I can never let you go now." Sherlock smiled softly at John's words. "I mean it." He did. "So. Forever then." Sherlock kissed him again, and let his hand wonder. "Forever then. You need to stop that or we'll never get any sleep tonight." John tried not to jut his hips into Sherlock's touch. "Oh darling, sleep was never an option." Sherlock's voice rumbled against John's shaft as he took him in his mouth.

[loveinthewriteway]

rules: choose a couple of fave photos/gifs/manips/etc of your ship! copy and paste the questions down below! answer as if you’re the characters that have been tagged! then tag some more of your fave ships/characters to answer next!