#liam is so judgemental about other peoples tastes he Will figure out a way to give her Lessons In Good Alcohol even if it kills him i stg
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The Paradox of Light :: CS AU : Rated E :: part 5
Title: The Paradox of Light by @artistic-writer Summary: Imagine having one person, one constant, one love in your life that holds your head when you go under the surface. They will be there forever, holding your hand through everything life can throw at the pair of you, but what happens when a crack forms? What happens when it grows into something neither of you can control? What happens when the one person who was there to guide you becomes an obstacle and rather than hold you up, they pull you down? How do you find your way out of the darkness without your light? Rating: E Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, alcoholism/alcohol abuse, sexual addiction, domestic violence, fighting, choking, erotic asphyxiation (use in a non-informed manner), depression, death of Liam Jones, panic attacks, PTSD, attempted rape/non-con/dub-con, stab wounds, bar fights, rehab/AA meetings
- but there is a happy ending to this story, i promise.
Author’s Note: I missed this ficversary because of everything that is going on in the world right now, but its been in the plan to re-release it as a multichapter for some time. It’s A LOT otherwise and whilst I initially always intended this to be a one shot, because I wrote it in one go, its not logical to expect people to stop and read so many words in one go. The lovely fanart by @itsfabianadocarmo features in all chapters, so go show her some love!
PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!! This fic has a lot of them for a reason. If you want to ask about any, please don’t be afraid to message me.
Part Five [ below the cut ]
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Five Years Later
Killian hated the meetings. He hated the way other people hated themselves because it felt like it belittled the way he despised himself. There were no words that he could ever have used to describe how rotten he felt, right down to the core, disgusted with his actions. He carried his shame around with him daily but he didn’t mind, because the sobriety chip he always kept in his pocket was far more important to him. It kept him grounded, reminded him of what he had lost but also somehow gained. There had only ever been one other thing as important in his life, but she had seen him for what he truly was and had left.
It was his turning point, the fork in the road, and luckily he had made the right decision and got clean. It would have been so much easier to have fallen back into a bottle, swam around in the bitterness of alcohol but he would have eventually drowned. So he went to the meetings, he told his story and the room of other addicts applauded him each and every time, and he couldn’t help but wish he wasn’t going through it alone. He wished Emma was there with him, to see how far he had come, but the guilt he carried for how he had treated her never let up and whilst he knew she was living in New York, thanks to Will, he was too contrite to find her.
Emma was adamant that he get help and despite her leaving him to do it alone, he figured it was the last thing he could have done for her to prove to her he wasn’t anything like the monster he had become.
“You come here often?” a voice said from beside him, making him jump a little. The hot coffee he was stirring with a tiny wooden stick sloshed out of the styrofoam cup and over his hand making him almost drop the cup in his haste to shake off the boiling liquid.
“Oh shit! Sorry!” The woman said hurriedly, grabbing a handful of the provided napkins and dabbing his hand without invitation. “Are you okay?”
Killian took the napkins from her and rubbed at his hand, the skin red and sore almost instantly. He stared at the mark, an oddly shaped blemish that resembled a hook, and frowned. “Yeah, I’m alright,” he said with a weak smile. “Hollye, right?” He offered her his hand after wiping the coffee from it down the leg of his jeans.
“Yeah,” she smiled back with a ruby tint to her cheeks. “Killian, right?” She pretended she didn’t know, letting her hand linger in his a little longer than intended.
“I am, thank you” he nodded, slipping his fingers from hers and returning to his half spilled coffee. “I’m not very good at making these, but would you like a coffee?”
“Please,” she smiled again, leaning on the table and cocking her head to one side. She was dressed to impress it seemed, her very low cut top exposing more than enough cleavage to make any man blush or salivate like one of Pavlov’s dogs. She glanced behind her to make sure the other attendees were helping to clear the chairs before sucking in a breath. “I’m sorry. I know we are not supposed to form relationships outside of these things…”
“Relationships?” Killian visibly winced at her words, squinting an eye closed as he offered her the coffee cup. It was only half full lest they experience any more accidents, with a little wooden stirring stick poking out of the plastic sip lid. She took the coffee, clutching it with both hands and looked down at the wispy steam escaping from the lid clearly embarrassed. “Look, I’m sure you are a very nice lass,” he offered her quickly, dipping his head to catch her gaze and giving her a smile. “I’m just not…”
“Oh, of course,” Hollye shrugged, straightening herself up and pulling at her top, trying to cover up a little.
“I mean you no offense,” Killian said softly.
“She must be a very lucky woman,” Hollye said with a forced smile, trying not to sound too jealous over a woman she didn’t even know existed.
Killian laughed, the sarcastic chortle making him shake his head. “It was I who was the lucky one,” he said sadly. He shifted his weight, looking down at his own coffee which he swore bore Emma’s resemblance in the honey coloured crema.
“Was?” Hollye prodded with a frown. “I’ve heard your story. Was that her?”
Killian nodded. “Aye,” he blushed with a sigh. He had lost count of the times he had relived what had happened that night, in his nightmares and in the meetings. Each time things got easier to talk about, but it still shocked him to the core when a new member would gasp at his revelation, unable to hold their judgement.
“You still love her, don’t you?” Hollye smiled knowingly. Killian looked up and met her gaze, the upturned corners of her lips reminding him a little of the way Emma used to smile.
“I do,” he said without hesitation. “I always will.”
“Have you asked for forgiveness?” Hollye’s words hung on Killian’s mind. One of the first stages of recovery from any addiction was asking for forgiveness from the ones you had wronged. They didn’t have to absolve you, that was their choice, but there would be no progression in your recovery if you didn’t ask. Hollye took in Killian’s million mile stare. “I think you should.”
“It’s not exactly as easy as that,” Killian looked down again, lifting his cup to his mouth and taking a sip of the foul tasting bitterness the meeting organisers tried to pass for coffee. “I’ve only seen her twice since she left.”
“And what did she say?” Hollye prompted with a sip of her own cup, the sour liquid burning her tongue.
“Why am I even telling you this?” Killian chuckled, suddenly embarrassed. “We don't even know each other’s surnames.”
“And yet, you know how I walked the streets giving out hand jobs for a twenty and I know how you nearly raped your girlfriend because you were drangry,” she said with a ‘so there’ look.
“Drangry?” Killian cringed as he said the word. It sounded wrong in his mouth, clearly not recognised by any officiating language body. Hollye had seemingly made it up on the stop.
“Drunk angry. So drunk you are angry about everything. Drangry,” she clarified like it was obvious and took another sip of the coffee. “So tell me, what did she say?”
“Nothing,” Killian looked away sheepishly, the prick of red covering the tips of her ears. “I said I’ve only seen her twice, as in seen her. From afar.”
“Oh, you mean like a stalker,” Hollye teased and his head snapped up to give her a confused look. “Was you hiding in the shadows? Maybe nearby whilst she visited the grave of a loved one?” Hollye laughed but Killian did not join her, because by some miserable coincidence, she was right.
The first time he had seen Emma, he had thought he was imagining things. It was a year after she had left and when he had visited Liam’s grave on his birthday, there were fresh yellow flowers laid over the ground in front of the headstone with a small note that read, ‘See you tomorrow’ on it. The groundskeeper had described Emma exactly how he had remembered her and when he had returned the next day, skulking in the shadow of a nearby tree, she had appeared like a daydream come to life.
The next year he expected her return and sure enough, right on time on what would have been Liam’s birthday, she appeared again with a bunch of yellow flowers and sat at the grave for hours. She talked about a man named Graham, about how he made her happy and even though he wasn’t exactly the person she imagined spending the rest of her life with, she thought Liam would approve of him. That was the last time Killian saw her and he told himself that he was still new to the recovery process and he should stay away, all the while seething with jealousy and hatred for a man he had never met who had given her happiness when all he could have given her was more pain.
“Oh Lord, you did, didn’t you?” Hollye giggled, half scandalized by his silent admission. “You stalked her over the grave of a loved one!”
“My loved one,” Killian huffed. “My brother.”
“Oh,” Hollye lost her smile, her joviality fading immediately. She had been listening to Killian’s story for long enough to know that losing his brother was the start of his decline. “I’m sorry.”
Killian gave her a quick sideways smile. “You didn’t know,” he said quietly. “No harm done.”
“Isn’t it your brother’s birthday next month?” Hollye nudged his hand with hers, bringing him back to reality. She lifted her cup to her mouth, closing her lips over the warmed styrofoam and blowing gently over the surface of the coffee. It rippled and bobbed against the side of the cup, threatening to splash her face. When Killian gave her a strange look she just shrugged. “Do you even listen to anyone else’s story at these things, or do I have to do all the hard work for both of us?”
“I listen,” Killian pouted.
“Then you will also know it is Liam’s birthday next month,” Hollye emphasized his brother’s name and Killian staved off tears at the upcoming event. It was hard, it always had been, but even more so since he had been sober. There was temptation everywhere he looked, obvious and subliminal, but what really gave him the most turmoil was fighting the urge to see Emma again. In a way it was a welcome distraction, only it was becoming more and more difficult knowing she was in the same town at the same time every year and he hadn’t seen her for three.
“You should ask for forgiveness,” Hollye repeated, interrupting his thoughts.
“You’re a good person, Hollye,” Killian smiled, offering her his hand. She took it, shaking their joined hands up and down between them with a smirk.
“I’ve been called worse,” she winked.
One month later
Emma came home every year for exactly two reasons.
Her adoptive parents still lived in the town so she used the time to visit them, making sure that they were doing well and managing in their increasingly elderly state. They were older when they adopted her, having already had children of their own, but never being the sort of people to turn away a stray. Emma’s adoptive brother David tried to find the time to meet her at home, but he was busy and often it was just her. Not that the Nolans minded, because Emma was happy and that was all they had ever wanted her to be.
Secondly, Emma had never found peace at the passing of her friend, Liam Jones. He was taken from her life too soon, cruelly, and she had struggled with his loss for many years. When she had moved away she couldn’t shake the niggling feeling deep within her that meant she missed him terribly. New York felt like half a world away so to relieve the build up of anxiety, each year she would return home and visit his grave.
She tended the site, weeding and making sure that it was kept spic and span. Liam was a military man and so would never have wanted anything so messy representing the man he once was. Emma bought him flowers, always the same sunshine yellow Chrysanthemums because Liam always used to say that they reminded him of her. They were a happy flower, despite their association with mourning, and Emma always smiled when she saw them.
So far, each visit had gone without a hiccup. Until today.
When she approached Liam’s grave, there was already a huge bunch of bright, yellow chrysanthemums piled on top of the freshly weeded patch of grass in front of his headstone. The flowers were fresh, each petal tightly fixed in place, the crimped edges of each to tight to blow in the slight breeze. Emma frowned and looked around, but the graveyard was deserted, no other visitors catching her eye. She looked back to the flowers and noticed a card. Her brow knitted together in a quizzical expression as she knelt down and plucked it from the still tied bunch.
“Granny’s. 7pm.”
Emma’s breath left her and the hair on the back of her neck prickled to life, straining against her skin. It had been five years without a single word, but she would never forget the slightly italic, old world handwriting of Killian Jones.
In the time it had taken her to regain her composure she had returned back to the Nolans humble home and was greeted at the door by the enthusiastic Will. Will was almost five years old, not planned but not loved any less, and ran at her with an excited squeal as he called her name. His hair flopped over his eyes as her ran, feet pounding the hardwood floor of the hallway and almost jumped into her arms as she crouched to greet him.
“Mommy!” Will sang, leaping before he even reached her with utter faith that she would catch him.
“Hey lightning bug,” Emma chimed, setting him on her hip and brushing the lightly curled hair from his face. When she did, the blue of his eyes shone through his smile, his cheeks flushed and his words catching on his breath as he tried to tell her all about his day.
“We were playing pirates!” Will said, wide eyed and excited. “I was the Captain! And we walked the plank! And there were sharks if we fell into the lava!” He squeaked rapidly, his tiny lungs filling up between each sentence.
“Lava?” Emma quirked her brow, looked at him and trying to hide her smile. He nodded, a big grin on his face.
“But I didn’t fall in, did I?” Will almost arched his entire body towards the man approaching them, leaning out of Emma’s embrace with outstretched arms and a cocky grin on his face.
Graham was tall, broad and had the most amazing demeanour Emma had even known. She smiled as he walked towards them in jeans and a causal tee, his hair the same floppy brown style as Will’s and a warming smile that made her feel at ease. They even shared little habits. Will’s face when he was in trouble mirrored Graham’s when he was in her bad books and they both pulled the same face when they tried to bend the truth.
“No you did not, Captain,” Graham shook his head, saluting and going along with the boy’s story. “There was that time you pushed me in though,” he grunted, pulling Will into his arms.
“You said you wouldn’t tell!” Will gasped, giggling when Graham jabbed his fingers into his sides and wiggled them, instantly causing Will to almost bend in half and wriggle in his arms.
“So you had fun without me?” Emma asked softly, her heart swelling with joy as her son hit the ground running, calling out for Papa Nolan as he tore off along the hallway and ignored her question. Emma watched him go, only looked back to Graham as he rounded the corner and bounded out of sight, the Nolans cat fleeing under a nearby armchair just like she always had when they visited.
“Not intentionally,” Graham beamed, touching her elbow as he leaned forward and gave her a chaste kiss, his hand slipping down her forearm and gripping her fingers. “How was it?” He knew that she visited Liam every year and that she always had to do it alone. He just wished sometimes that she would let him in as much as the dead man.
Emma shrugged, her smile fading with the reminder. “The same. I talked, he listened,” she said sadly.
“Did you tell him everything?” Graham asked her, his features suddenly flashing with a sense of nervousness, his voice lowering slightly as he shot a glance over his shoulder. “About us?”
Emma looked up at him and slipped her hand from his. “I did,” she said solemnly and Graham offered her a weak twitch of a smile. “It won’t be long,” she promised him, flattening her hand to his cheek and rubbing her thumb over his skin there. “I promise.”
“I don’t like lying,” Graham whispered, leaning closer to her. “The Nolans are good people. I feel like a fraud.”
“You are not,” Emma told him firmly. “I am the one lying to myself, and you, and I promised, the day I found out I was pregnant, that I would never be that person again.” Despite his best efforts, Graham would never be the man Emma yearned for him to be and whilst she never regretted a single moment with him, and loved each and every memory they had made together as a family, she had vowed to never settle for enough.
She and Graham had spoken at great length about their imploding relationship and they had decided to part on good terms, share custody of Will and work at being the best parent figures they could be. They would always be there for him, in any capacity, but they also had another hurdle to leap. The Nolans. Emma’s adoptive parents loved Graham like a son and after so long they had almost adopted him as their own, so they both knew that telling them would crush them completely. They had agreed to both come home, visit family of all kinds and then tell everyone later on.
“It’s still hard, you know?” Graham told her in a hushed voice. “Pretending,” he clarified.
“I know,” she said apologetically. “But Will doesn’t know yet, and I haven’t told my parents,” Emma sighed. “I can almost hear Mamma Nolan’s voice now. “What did you do? He was a good man!” She imitated her adoptive mother’s voice so closely that Graham laughed as she rolled her eyes.
“I am a good man,” he grinned boyishly.
“Yes you are,” Emma told him firmly just like she had done a thousand times before. “It’s just…”
“I know,” Graham told her softly. “I understand, I really do. I’m just going to really miss Will, you know?”
“He’s not going anywhere,” Emma smiled reassuringly. “I would never keep him from you, you know that.”
“Thank you,” Graham just about had time to say out loud before said child came running through the house again, Papa Nolan in tow, a feather sticking from his silvery hair and a little plastic archery set in his hands dwarfed by his size.
“Indians!” Will yelled, a high pitched scream following as he tore past them and out the back door into the yard.
“Okay,” Emma laughed, watching her adoptive father sneak past them emitting his own high pitched noise and patting his palm over an open mouth. “You boys have fun!” Emma called after them.
“Are you going somewhere?” Graham frowned at her words and fiddled nervously with the belt loop of his jeans. Emma blushed a little, looking down at her feet before diving her hand into her pocket and pulling out the card. She looked at it one more time before handing it to Graham.
“This was on Liam’s grave,” she said gently. “For me.”
“Is this from him?” Graham said with a little too much resentment, the tone in his voice one he couldn’t hide. Emma had never lied to him about her past, any part of it, and she knew that one day this moment would come. They had both expected it a lot sooner. “Are you going?”
“I’ll be fine,” Emma reassured him quickly, taking the card from his hand before he set it on fire with his angry stare. She took his hand in hers and when he looked up at her she gave him a small smile. “It will be okay. He just wants to talk.”
Graham blinked at her with a twisted smirk. “How do you know that?”
“I know him,” Emma nodded firmly. “Tell Will I have gone to see Belle, okay?” She smiled quickly, checking her watch and realising that if she didn’t leave now she would be late for her impromptu meeting. When she looked back up, Graham’s face was etched with agony. “Words are all he has left. I have to go and talk to him.”
“Be careful,” Graham warned but his worries were extinguished when Emma cupped his face in her hands and kissed his cheek. “I worry.”
“Don’t.” Emma reached for the door behind her and pulled it open, mindful to be gone before Will came back through from the yard. “I’ll call Will at eight to say goodnight.”
When she reached Granny’s Diner, the hub of their hometown, far earlier than the card had invited her to meet, Killian was sitting in their usual little booth already. He was sitting browsing the menu, a fruitless task seeing as they had spent most of their teens memorizing the items word for word, but it seemed he welcomed the distraction. His leg bounced up and down under the table and he wiped at his brow, checking his watch every few seconds just in case it had decided to run slow.
He looked good from what Emma could see from the doorway, having snuck in behind another patron to avoid the ringing bell alerting him to her early presence. She felt like a stalker, watching him from the shadows of a doorside booth, staring at the back of his head as she worked up the courage to approach. He had cut his hair and shaved, leaving his trademark length of stubble that was a little more silver than she remembered now he was approaching his forties. The hair on his sideburns was more white than black now and a sparse peppering of black littering his hairline.
Emma wasn’t going to lie, he was hot. He had put on a little weight, his cheeks filled out when she saw his profile turn to check the clock above Granny’s bar area. Maybe it was the parent in her that found his new look so appealing, the classic dad style of his casual black sweater tight over his muscles making her swoon a little, or maybe it was just seeing him after five years telling her what she had always known.
Killian Jones was, and always would be, the man that made her tingle, set her skin ablaze with passion and she missed him like the deserts miss the rain. It was wrong, she knew that, but she couldn’t stop loving him, even after everything that had happened. After everything that was said, he still knew her better than she knew herself, and was the only man who could ever show her the light.
“Are you going to stare into the back of my head all night, Swan?” he called out to her over the almost deserted diner as he kept his gaze fixed on the menu in front of him. He smirked to himself when he heard her get up and make her way to him, the hot chocolate in front of him topped with cream and cinnamon. Emma slid into the booth opposite him, a fixed stare on her face as he slid the mug towards her.
Emma looked down at the beverage and reached for it instinctively. “How did you…”
“You were always early,” he interrupted her with a smirk. “I assume you still like hot chocolate with cinnamon on top?” He arched an eyebrow at her, his boyish smile sending a shiver straight to her gut.
“You look good,” Emma mentioned nonchalantly and took a sip of her cocoa, licking her lips and wiping the smudge of cream from her nose.
“So do you,” Killian smiled, ignoring the fact she had dodged his question. Maybe she didn’t want to make small talk and that was fine with him, because he just needed to hear her voice to know that she was okay, and when her cheeks flushed with pink at his words, he knew she was.
“How was work?” Emma watched him over the rim of her mug, the slightly cooled liquid level reduced enough from her sipping to be able to see him over the cream now. It was a loaded question and she knew it.
Killian took a sharp breath, not expecting her to dive straight in with the hard questions, but he gave her a genuine smile that finally felt natural. He lifted his hand and lightly scratched the skin behind his ear, a habit he had always had. “Work was good. Has been for about three years now,” he said softly, his fingers picking at the dog eared menu in front of him.
“And your colleagues?” Emma pushed, setting the mug back down in front of her. Maybe it was cruel to ask him such a question before other pleasantries but she needed to know that she hadn’t sacrificed her happiness for nothing.
Killian simply smiled and it was serene. “Gone,” he told her proudly. Killian had managed to get help and medication to quell the voices in his head and therapy had helped him understand how to deal with how he was feeling. The more he understood about why he had been on such a self destructive path, the less they said to him and the more they faded away into the background. “I’ve been off my meds for six months now. Certified as normal as can be.”
Emma coughed at a sip of her drink, almost spitting it back into the cup. “I bet you still stir your tea clockwise though,” she teased, her lips finally spreading into the kind of coy smirk he had missed so much.
“I do,” Killian blushed, his British accent somehow as prevalent as ever in those two words. His family has migrated for work, but both him and Liam has never lost the accent of their mother tongue. It had always fascinated Emma to no end how certain things that he had done whilst they were together were so quintessentially British, but above all else, the insistence that tea be stirred clockwise had sealed the notion that he was certifiably insane firmly in her mind forever.
“So normal,” she mocked once more like they had never been apart. A silence fell between them, the clinking of mugs from the washing up area not even enough of a distraction. Killian twisted his lips into a sideways pout and fiddled with the menu some more, crossing and uncrossing his legs under the table, mindful not to bump Emma’s knees. Emma looked around, taking in the decor of the diner that hadn’t changed in at least twenty years.
“Liam loved yellow chrysanths, you know,” Killian said suddenly, breaking the silence with a common ground. “He always said they reminded him of you.”
“The flowers?” Emma frowned at another of his Britishisms.
Killian chuckled lightly. “Yeah, the flowers,” he blushed.
“I bring them every year,” Emma told him, tilting her cup and noticing the mixture of melted cream and cinnamon powder lurking in the bottom. “But you know that.” She looked right at him, her fingers tracing the rim of her mug idly as she stared into the hue of his eyes. She had missed it, the darker circle around the blue that shone like the brightest sapphire when he was happy and was as dark as the depths of the ocean when he was aroused. He didn’t look away, holding her gaze unashamedly.
“I missed you the first year you came and the groundskeeper described someone who can have only been you, so the year after I came back.”
“You didn’t say anything,” Emma pried softly, prompting him to continue.
“I couldn’t,” Killian admitted shyly. “I was still such a mess, I just hid in the shadows after…” he paused, tongue darting out to moisten his lips.
“After?” Emma cocked her head to the side.
Killian let out a breath with exasperation. “Graham,” he said with a spiteful tone and Emma looked away. “I heard you talking about Graham and how happy you were and I was nowhere near mended. I couldn’t talk to you. I would have just made you regret coming back, and I would never do that to you. Liam meant as much to you as he did to me so I couldn't give you a reason to stop coming to visit him.”
“I would never…” Emma began but Killian interrupted her with a little more force than he intended.
“I would have probably said something I would have regretted, and it would have been selfish of me to put that sort of pressure on you,” he gulped, swallowing the distaste of compunction down his throat. “Again.”
“Oh, Killian,” Emma said softly, reaching across the table between them and clutching his hand in hers. He stilled at her touch, something he had missed like oxygen once it had been denied him for so long, and stared at their hands. His heart took off in his chest, banging against the curve of his ribcage and made the base of his spine tingle with delight. Emma offered him a comforting smile but he quickly tore his hand from hers.
Killian froze, palms flattened to the table in front of him as images of him assaulting Emma flickered behind his eyes. He pinched his eyes closed, his breathing becoming shallow, and tiny beads of sweat oozing from his brow. It was a panic attack, plain and simple, and he had encountered enough to know that it would pass, but he couldn’t help his bodies reaction to Emma’s touch. He felt like he didn’t deserve her compassion, in any form, and the tiniest touch had sent his body into an episode.
“Killian?” Emma asked mildly, confused by his sudden reaction. She had encountered her own fair share of attacks to know what he was going through and immediately moved around to sit at his side, shielding him from view of the other diner goers and laying her hand over his. “Killian, come back to me,” she whispered, her body pressed against his and her mouth so close to his ear that her voice was all he could hear. “Shhh, breathe.”
Her voice was faint but Killian heard her as clear as day through the fog in his mind. He felt the warmth of her hands on his, the softness of her lips against his ear and her breath on his neck, and a relief washed over him immediately, his lungs filling with cool air as he deepened his breathing the way his therapist had instructed. When he was finally able to move, Killian clutched her fingers, lacing them with his as he resumed his steadying breaths. Emma rubbed her thumb over his, watching the profile of his face as his brow relaxed and he peeled his eyes open once more.
“I’m sorry,” Killian whimpered, his body relaxing back in the seat.
“Don’t apologize,” Emma said firmly. “You are still clearly working through some things.”
“Just one,” Killian laughed nervously, the adrenaline from his attack making him shake a little. He turned to her and swallowed hard, looking down at the rip in the green leather between them. “Would you…” he began, fidgeting.
“Go on,” Emma nudged him with her elbow and he looked up at her shyly.
“Part of the...process...is asking for forgiveness,” he began, finally looking up to meet her gaze. “And I know I don’t deserve it, and I don’t want you to feel like you owe me a single thing, not after what I did to you…”
“Killian,” Emma stopped him, grabbing his forearm and flattening her palm to his cheek. He gasped at her touch again but this time he felt a warming calm flood over his entire body, the anxiety chased away by a new kind of light that he had never seen or felt before. It was heavenly.
“Hmm?” he grunted sheepishly.
“I forgive you,” Emma smiled warmly. Her thumb brushed the apple of his cheek and his lips twitched, mirroring her smile back. “I forgave you a long time ago,” she repeated, sliding her hand behind his head and pulling his head towards her until their foreheads touched. It was as intimate as they had ever been, honest and raw and Killian’s hand flew up to cup her cheek in his hand. He felt Emma relax, his anticipation of her fleeing long gone.
A single tear rolled down his cheek and his eyes fluttered closed. “Thank you,” he whispered and he meant it with all his heart.
One Month Later
Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to this. Maybe there was some divinity to the whole process, but it wasn’t just Killian who had been addicted, and when he had asked her if she wanted to go to a meeting with him, she had said yes. Graham had returned to New York, leaving Emma and Will another month at the Nolans, but tomorrow they were flying home and the thought of not being able to say goodbye because Killian had gone to a meeting was selfish. So Emma had agreed to go with him when he had suggested it, both of them knowing it was going to be some of the last moments they would spend together for a while.
The room was just like her own meetings, a church hall rented out to the organisers for a small donation that probably wouldn’t go very far. It wasn’t a sit in a circle type meeting because everyone in this one was a veteran addict, mostly around the same age who had all fallen into some sort of crisis. For some it was drugs, for most it was alcohol and as they skimmed over their introductions, Emma felt like she might have been the only person there addicted to sex.
As she had explained a thousand times before in her story that it wasn’t about the act itself. It was always about finding the numbness of climax, the light beyond the shadows, where she had felt safe and free. But as everyone in front of her nodded in agreement with her statements like a faithful congregation, she couldn’t help but feel Killian’s eyes transfixed onto her and burning into her flesh. Meetings were a place of brutal honesty and she never divulged his name, but that didn’t stop the tuts and head shakes of disgust.
If only they knew the villain of her story was sitting within their flock, a wolf amongst lambs. Emma wondered how they would have reacted to realise that their judgement was actually hypocrisy, and the very same repugnant responses to Killian’s story were about her and how she had dragged him into the light with her. She was happy now, and Killian’s smile told her he was too. But then Emma mentioned she had a son, the new light in her life, a welcomed addiction that she never wanted to quit, and the whole room smiled with her.
Except for Killian. His face paled and he shifted in his seat, the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallowed almost audible. As she caught his eye, the anguish plastered across his face at the new knowledge that Graham had given her yet another thing he never could, she knew she had given him hope and then snatched it away again, but there were no secrets at these things. And it was something that she couldn’t hide anymore.
“A son?” Killian said from behind her as she wrinkled her nose at the pitiful array of donuts on offer. The coffee was bad enough, but why they insisted on plain, unsugared rings of dough was beyond her.
“Are we all addicted to sugar too?” She scoffed, poking one of the offending treats and avoiding his question entirely.
“We can’t have nice things,” Killian laughed, wrapping his fingers around the coffee cup in his hands.
“Clearly,” Emma frowned, selecting the biggest donut from the half empty box. It was cold, heavy and when she bit into it, there was no familiar crunch of sugar on her teeth or dusting on her lips, but she licked at them anyway.
“How is it?” Killian teased, sipping his coffee and trying to hide his smirk.
“You know it's disgusting,” Emma said quietly and grabbed a napkin to spit the almost undercooked dough into. It was bland, tasted like flour and water on her tongue and she had to get rid of it immediately, wiping the napkin down her tongue, balling it up in another and tossing it into the provided trash can next to the table.
“Try the coffee,” Killian suggested with a restrained chuckle. “It’s...just as bad,” he sighed.
“Thanks,” Emma retorted sarcastically.
“So, a son? Why didn’t you tell me?” Killian asked softly, his words genuinely intrigued and not laced with the anger Emma had expected. She finally looked up at him and he smiled back at her, head tilted to the side and an expectant look in his eyes.
“I didn’t know how to?” Emma asked, questioning her own words.
“I mean, I have no right to expect anything from you,” Killian clarified quickly when he sensed he had made her a little uneasy. “Least of all to wait for me.”
“You wanted me to wait for you?” Emma asked gently.
“Selfishly, yes, at first,” Killian revealed with a nod. “But then I realised that you were right. I needed to mend, we both did, and our grief for Liam was something we had to do alone.”
“Becoming a mother changed me overnight,” Emma said with a happy grin. “He’s amazing and I followed the path laid out in front of me because of him.”
Killian shifted his weight, inhaling hard and peering down into his half filled coffee cup. “Do you think…” Killian paused, eyebrows knitting together on his face. “...In another life, you would have waited?” He asked awkwardly.
Emma paused, her cheeks prickling with the heat of a blush.
“Never mind,” Killian shook his head, dismissing his words. “It’s selfish of me to ask that.”
“In another life,” Emma said firmly, sucking in a shaking breath. She reached between them, brushing her fingers over his, the most intimate they could be in a public meeting that discouraged relationships between attendees. Killian watched her fingers with a stilled breath, his entire body buzzing, his skin tightening over his bones and his mouth going dry. “Maybe in this one.”
Killian’s head snapped up to meet her gaze, the tears behind his eyes threatening to soothe the sting along his eyelids. His eyes searched hers, flickering over the leafy green hues that were accented by the crinkles in her skin at their corners from her soft smile. He didn’t know what to say, struck silent with her admission that could mean any one of a thousand things. The one he hoped for lingered on the tip of his tongue, ready to ask her for another chance, but the sobriety chip in his pocket burned into his skin through the cotton and told him he didn’t deserve her.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Emma asked gently, rousing him from his thoughts. “I know a place that serves real donuts,” she joked, shooting one last disgusted look at the flimsy white box beside her. “And coffee,” she said quickly. “Real coffee,” she hummed, almost able to taste the smoothness of citrus notes on her tongue.
Killian grinned at her, a boyish, wide open mouthed grin that was accompanied with a sound from his throat like laughter. “Alright,” he agreed, tossing his coffee into the trash. “Let’s get out of here.”
The roadside diner was just outside of town, away from the familiar prying eyes they never could seem to escape by coming home. It was nice to see everyone, but sometimes they were just too invested in other people’s lives and Emma had discovered this diner as a means of escape. It was close enough that if she got called back for Will she was near but far enough out that she felt separated from the constant questions and stares. And they served donuts to die for.
It was like any other diner, like they were all set out in a generic way that made Emma think they were all owned by a single person. The countertop was black marble and even so late in the day it consistently clinked with the contact of plate after plate as orders flooded out of the kitchen. The floor was a green tile, speckled with white and with an orange pattern in the center that resembled a color blindness test card, and was polished so much Emma could see her reflection. The walls were the same shade of green and the leatherette sofas in the booths and on the bar stools matched the orange tone of the floor pattern, two huge ceiling fans whirling around above the walkway to keep the place cooled.
Spotlights lit the bar area, a constant drip of coffee from the machine next to the cash register cathartic to watch. Emma had spent many hours on one of these stools, timing the drips of coffee in her mind and awaiting a refill from the server as she contemplated her life. Graham had come into her life in a moment of great need, but he had been different from Killian, and she had warmed up to him as a friend before anything else. She tested him, made sure that she was what he wanted, and gave him the chance to escape on more than one occasion, but he had stayed, resolute and steadfast when she had tried to push him away.
“Just go. I can’t give you what you want.”
“I just want you. All of you.”
“How am I ever going to be enough? You know what I am about, what I have been through. How can you expect to love me when I can’t love you back?”
“I’ll take my chances.”
In a way, Emma regretted letting him stay. She had been nothing but honest, telling him that he was never going to be the man that she loved, and for that she was sorry. She didn’t regret their relationship, because it was built on a mutual respect, and he did love her, but it wasn’t fair that she let him carry the weight of their relationship alone. It had taken him nearly five years of never hearing her say ‘I love you’ before Graham had finally snapped, deciding that she was right and he couldn’t pretend anymore.
They hadn’t fought, not in front of Will anyway, and were separating on good terms. They had agreed that he would go home to New York ahead of her and Will, packing up his stuff and moving out of their house and their lives. They would explain things to Will another time, but they both had faith that he would be okay with it as much as they were, and they would both still love him just the same. Now that Graham was officially moved out, Emma felt like she could breathe again, a strange sensation that she hadn’t felt since leaving Killian, but one that she had missed every single day.
They sat down to order, sitting opposite each other in one of the way back booths so they could talk a bit more privately. Killian looked around the diner as they sat, taking in the photographs of local heroes and aged newspaper clippings that were framed on every available wall surface. Clearly the place saw a lot of celebrities and the owner seemed to be a little bit of a cinephile, old movie posters and signed memorabilia scattered all around the place.
“You come here a lot?” Killian asked Emma as a waitress took their order of two coffees.
“Sometimes I come here to think,” Emma shrugged, arching her back into the leather bench and letting out a groan.
It hadn’t escaped Killian’s notice that the waiting staff knew her by name and they knew how she took her coffee too. “Sometimes?” He quipped, arching his eyebrow at her.
“Okay, so I think a lot,” Emma grinned, glaring at him playfully.
“About Graham?” Killian prompted selfishly. He hated the man, his name on his tongue like a poison in his mouth, but he respected that Emma was satisfied.
“Sometimes,” she whispered noncommittally.
“Does he make you happy?” Kilian couldn't stop the words as they fell from his lips, screwing his face up and expecting an earful of abuse for his cheek. Emma looked up at him aghast and he quickly shook off the feeling of dread he had because he had to know. “It’s all I have ever wanted for you, Swan.”
“He did,” Emma stared into his eyes, readying herself for her confession. “We are seperated.” Killian frowned, confusion etched across his face. He knew she had come to their hometown with Graham, but it did explain how she had managed to get away to meet with him so often in the last eight weeks. “It’s complicated.”
“I’m sorry,” he lied.
“Liar,” Emma smirked. “It’s okay, really. You know you have to be happy to move on, and I was for a time. Now I am not. It’s really that simple.” Emma shrugged a sigh and brushed a stray hair from her face, letting the rest tumble over her shoulders. She had decided to wear her hair down for the meeting, maybe subconsciously because she knew Killian had always liked it that way, which was confirmed when his eye flickered to watch her hand toy with the golden tresses.
“As long as you are okay,” he smiled warmly. “So why New York?” Killian asked her, changing the subject to something he had always wondered. New York wasn’t a million miles away, so he knew she wasn’t running away from anything, and it always left the door open for him to visit, something he had resisted for so long.
“Who said I lived in New York?” Emma narrowed her gaze at him, wondering if she had inadvertently mentioned something in the meeting. She didn’t remember telling him, or even letting it slip over Liam’s grave, but then she was hit with a realisation that made her sigh and Killian laugh.
“Will,” she said with a groan.
“Will fucking Scarlett,” Killian said with a nod. “Can’t keep his mouth shut that lad. Never could,” he laughed.
“And what were you doing in Will’s bar, huh?” Emma accused, thanking the small, blonde haired waitress who had poured their coffees.
“Drinking water,” Killian told her with a knowing look. “Which is boring, by the way.”
Emma giggled, reaching for her mug. The coffee was boiling hot, the ceramic burning her fingers as she pulled it towards her without a visible wince of pain. “But I bet your breath smells fresher,” she mocked.
“Indeed,” Killian blushed a little, lifting his coffee to his lips.
“New York was just somewhere I could be nobody for a while,” Emma admitted. “I needed to heal as much as you but I suppose, if I am being honest with myself, I didn’t want to move too far away. I couldn’t...” She looked down into her lap. Honesty was the best policy, or so they said. “I needed to still be close to you.”
She looked up at her admission and Killian felt the pang of guilt in his heart. “Because of...you know?” He asked gently, not wanting to mention her dependency too much. It was good to talk about things, they had both learned that the hard way, but old wounds didn’t need to be reopened unnecessarily. Emma was an addict too, and he was her drug of choice. She nodded sadly. “And now?” He pushed, watching her shift in the seat.
“Now I just…” Emma lost her words, sitting forward in the booth and pushing her arms across the table until their fingers were almost touching. She could swear there were sparks between them when Killian didn’t move away but instead mirrored her movements and sat forward in his own seat, the leather groaning under his weight.
“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” Killian finished for her, reading her mind and almost whispering the words. He pushed his coffee mug aside with the back of his hand and reached for hers, sliding it out of their way. He bunched her hands up in his, lifting them to his lips and planting a soft kiss to the back of her knuckles, letting his lips linger as he inhaled her scent.
“I shouldn’t,” Emma told herself out loud but her words didn’t match her actions when she kept her hands exactly where they were, savouring the feel of his mouth of her skin after so long. She felt a tickle in her stomach, the dropping sensation followed by a welcome feeling of delight that was so familiar and yet different. It wasn’t like before, when they were both slaves to each other’s mercy.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” Killian began, but as he tried to pull his hands away, Emma stopped him, fingernails digging into his flesh that made him stare in her direction dumbfounded. Her face had changed, softness appearing around her eyes as the barriers she was holding up melted away and there was something else behind her eyes that he had never seen before. It was understanding and unselfishness and before he had time to ask her what it meant, Emma was pushing herself to her feet, grabbing his soft, woolen sweater and pulling him to her across the wooden surface of the table.
Her lips crashed into his and Killian’s mind exploded, eyebrows jumping up his face with surprise and his entire body paralyzed to respond. She paused, her lips on his, waiting for him to react, the grip loosening on the material of his sweater when she thought he wouldn’t, but when she heard the soft moan come from way down deep in his chest, she smirked coyly against his mouth and slid her tongue over his lips as they parted.
“Come to New York,” she whispered, their noses pressed side by side, her hand jumping to trace the silver of his sideburn with a single finger. Her eyes fluttered open and met his, the longing reflected in both of their stares.
There was nothing Killian could do but nod, a steady bob of his head that earned him another chaste kiss. Emma knew it wouldn’t be easy, they would have to contend with a long distance thing for a while, but she had faith they could make it work. There was just one more tiny detail she had to iron out, but that would have to wait until she was home.
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fall ‘19 rec
re-read:
Pull Me Under - zarah5 (140k)
AU. As the first British footballer to come out at the prime of his career, it helps that Louis Tomlinson is in a long-term, committed relationship. Even if that relationship is fake. (Featuring Niall as Louis' favourite teammate, Liam as Louis' agent, and Zayn as Liam's boyfriend, who just happens to be good friends with one Harry Styles.)
new:
Tell Me When You’re Ready (I’m Waiting) - insufferablelovebirds (17k)
When Harry's love letters to his old crushes get sent accidentally, one of his old crushes, Louis offers to help him fake a relationship but it gets complicated when feelings get involved.
Or an au loosely based off to all the boys I've loved before.
your rainbow will come smiling through - hazkaban (17k)
when harry isn't working at his stepfather's cafe, he's trying to make swim captain and trying to finish all his coursework on time. when he's not doing any of those things, he's talking to the boy he met on the oxford hopefuls subreddit. when they decide to meet, he's elated. he finally gets the chance to meet the boy he's been crushing on! when the day comes to meet his prince, he learns that his online crush is none other than louis tomlinson, captain of the football team and friend of his terrible stepbrothers. now harry has to decide whether telling louis the truth is the right choice or if it's better to just let sleeping dogs lie.
I’m A Man Who’s Got Very Specific Taste - patdkitten (4k)
“Birth control is getting expensive,” Louis repeats aloud to himself, focused on the medical bill he's just opened as he blindly locks back up his mailbox. “I could just stick with suppressants and condoms.” He continued, muttering to himself as he folded the bill back up. “It's not like I have a boyfriend or a mate or anything like that to merit continuing taking them.”
“Do you normally announce your sex life in front of the mailboxes?”
There's a strange alpha in the building that Louis calls home and he thinks maybe he'll make a proposition to the alpha. It goes a bit different than expected.
Love Isn’t Always on Time - messofgorgeouschaos (45k)
Falling in love with your best friend sounds like a good idea, until he comes back from a work trip engaged to another man. A Made of Honor AU.
Sonic Sounds - glasscushion (6k)
"Harry takes a deep breath, suitably embarrassed, “I’m just really...” and he can’t say the obvious. He can’t just say really wet."
Harry loves feeling embarrassed. Louis is happy to help.
Sit Next To Me - allwaswell16 (12k)
Harry Styles of One Direction always gets what he wants. Well, nearly always. What he can’t seem to figure out is why the very fit man who comes to assist Liam’s tattoo artist seems to have zero interest in him. Is Louis Tomlinson the straightest man alive? Or does Louis showing up for every show on tour mean something more is going on?
Howls Like A Beast (You Flower, You Feast) - indiaalphawhiskey (17k)
“You don’t love me,” Louis had said, utterly blasé as he callously fractured the heart of a Harry that was just barely eighteen.
“I do,” Harry had insisted pleadingly, green eyes already watering.
“You’ll change your mind once you’ve seen more of the world,” Louis had teased, pressing a brutally delicate kiss onto Harry’s lovely, pure cheek. “Once you’ve been properly defiled.” He had whispered filthily, delighted by the gasp he heard, the frantic pink blush that had rested high on Harry’s cheeks, the power he had felt at knowing he could make the Crown Prince squirm.
red hands - reveries_passions (132k)
a dystopian au in which harry, an ex-soldier who’s escaped from his government run camp, accidentally stumbles across the biggest rebel movement in the country, and louis, one of the rebellion’s mysterious leaders who appears to hate him, seems to simultaneously have an obsession with keeping him alive. or: harry is wanted for treason, niall hasn’t changed in four years, liam is always smiling, and louis is angry. like, really angry.
My Favorite Word - lightswoodmagic (3k)
“Nah,” Niall replied, typing on his computer and gracefully ignoring Harry’s embarrassment. The grin remained though. “He has a pretty specific...type. You could go help him out, you know. Pretend to be his boyfriend.”
Harry choked on the water he’d just swigged, his face brighter red still when everyone in the library turned to stare at him.
Or, Louis’ ex boyfriend won’t leave him alone, so Harry steps in.
Welcome Back From The Friend Zone - 2tiedships2 (32k)
“As we are both aware,” Louis began. “You are continuously complaining about not having the kitchen appliances needed when you want to make some of those random recipes you find online. And your precious waffle maker died recently.”
“Where are you going with this, Lou?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.
“We need to pretend we’re getting married and send out announcements to rich people. Like billionaires who don’t know who we are.”
Or the one where an idea to create a fake wedding with the sole intent to receive gifts from billionaires took a turn no one, but also everyone, saw coming.
No Turbulence Please - wetdandelions (5k)
It's just Harry's luck that his rut hits right before his concert when he's stuck on an airplane with his best friend as the only omega. Luckily, Louis doesn't mind helping him out. All for a good cause, of course.
Stay Forever - allwaswell16 (6k)
For the last year and a half, Harry has spent his coffee break at the same cafe every day, not because he loves their coffee, but rather because of the gorgeous omega behind the counter making the coffees. As a beta, he’s sure he doesn’t stand a chance with him, so he goes online to find as close a substitute as possible.
A camboy au
Into Always - jaerie (4k)
Harry finds his ex's knotting dildo and gets a little curious. Louis is more than willing to help out.
The End Should Be A Good One - bannanasandboots (43k)
It doesn't feel like falling in love, the way it had felt the first time around, easy, simple, almost like floating, wrapped up in a whirlwind of touches and kisses, late nights spent laughing breathlessly into each other's skin. This feels broken, complicated, like every move carries the weight of their past. Like the floorboards beneath them could collapse at any moment. This doesn't feel good.
Or, the one where Harry loses the love of his life on New Years Eve and finds him again, six months later, ready to open some poorly-stitched wounds.
Send Me Your Pillow (The One That You Dream On) - flowercrownfemme (3k)
Harry is embarrassed to realize he's nesting but can't stop stealing Louis' things for his nest.
Hey, Mr. DJ - allwaswell16 (5k)
Harry really, really does NOT want to go out to a club tonight and be hassled by a bunch of alpha knotheads, but against his better judgement, he finds himself alone on the dance floor, barefoot, with an orange in his hand. This is all Niall's fault. At least the DJ is the most strikingly gorgeous alpha he's ever seen...
spice up your life - bottomlinson (9k)
After a conversation with his Uni friends, Harry worries that his relationship with Louis has lost it's spark.
(aka: an incredibly silly modern day love story ft. awkward boners, grumpy neighbours and Cosmopolitan sex tips.)
Falling All In You - dimpled_halo (16k)
Louis wins a contest to meet Harry Styles even though he doesn't consider himself a fan. What he doesn't expect is to win over the popstar's heart.
Floating - Snowy38 (56k)
There's places that you can go to get help. The doctor's, psychiatrists, psychologists and all that run in between. And then there's places that fall on the edge of those recognised institutions. Places that offer the kind of therapy that most medical boards would reject on the ground of ethics. That's the kind of place Louis Tomlinson needs. It's the kind of place he has found. And so he goes. To a sex therapist with an unorthodox way of curing...by actually having sex.That therapist just so happens to be Harry Styles.
Don’t Move In (Don’t Move Out) - 2tiedships2 (14k)
Only one more week and Harry would be living under the same roof. Gone would be Liam’s alpha scent, quickly replaced with Harry’s. All Harry. Louis was going to fucking die. You’d think Louis would be used to it by now, that Harry’s scent would simply fade into the background like Liam’s did. But Louis had a feeling he would simultaneously be living in Heaven and Hell once Harry moved in.
Blockheads (Building a home with you) - bitter_leaf (38k)
Louis is a no-nonsense contractor with a score to settle. Harry is an idealistic interior designer who just wants the world to be beautiful. When they decide to go on The Block, a reality TV show about renovating, they’re not prepared for what else they might build together…
unfinished:
Shake Me Down - AGreatPerhaps12 (206k)
Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.
Fall Into Your Gravity - zarah5 (74k)
AU. In which Harry is an overnight pop sensation and Louis steals plants, Zayn pulls Liam's proverbial pigtails and Niall's really just pleased there are more girls for him.
And The a Bit - infinitelymint (159k)
“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”
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TASK 01. FIRST ENCOUNTER
the night liam finally committed to his move into escalus house after a semester of flitting between hotels in the city was not proving to be an easy one.
it was one of those nights where it was just impossible to get to sleep for more than two minutes at a time, two minutes he’d sacrifice forty minutes of tossing and turning to grab hold of. after the first two hours of getting tangled in his sheets trying to find a position his brain would deem comfortable enough, he’d staggered out of bed and rummaged in his boxes to finally pull out an unopened bottle of whiskey, which he’d made no hesitation in downing, figuring the stronger the nightcap the better - but still, whenever he’d been able to actually nod off, he’d quickly find himself awake once more, scrambling to check the time on his phone, only to be disappointed when he found only ten minutes had passed since the last trial.
finally, though, after uncomfortably drifting off to the sound of wind much-more-comfortably whistling against the glass window, he woke to silence - he woke to light. if he hadn’t suddenly felt the urge to, once again, check his phone, he wouldn’t have kept his eyes open for more than a few seconds - but before he had the chance to confirm his suspicion it was about five, he saw her.
she was stood leaning against the doorframe, the door the doorframe itself framed only a third open - still letting in enough light to illuminate her. at least, that’s what he supposed was causing the glow around her edges, the softness she seemed to have against her backdrop. she was looking at, no, watching him, her head on a three quarter angle - she seemed to be making some sort of a judgement, at first, but the look she was giving him was one he knew all to well - it was fondness.
she was were she belonged, he felt that in his gut - but when he tried to greet her, had the slightest notion to just give her a tired goodmorning, but he couldn’t open his mouth.
she didn’t seem to need him to talk, however - in fact, it seemed like she was already listening, or saying something herself - she was in conversation, and somehow, he felt like he was too, but he was far, far away from it - but it was him.
instead of speaking, he finally decided to try and sit up, but whenever he went to move it felt like his whole body was running on sand, or through water, it was bogged down, he just couldn’t. except he could - somehow, there he was, he was sitting, and as he realised he was the sun moved up just ever so slightly, illuminating the room just the tiniest bit more - there, with a shine reflecting right into his eyes, photos on his desk of people he knew, of course he knew them, they were his friends, and next to them, books piled up that he’d read, but he’d been meaning to return them to the library for a while now, he had to get someone to remind him, through the crack in the door he could see paintings he knew were valentines - and then, stood against the doorframe, was her.
she’d always been there. he’d invited her to be, after all, and she always got up before he did.
it was only then he spotted, just as he turned her head, that still silhouetted was something of a spike, or a clump - too solid to be a knot, surely, but not like any sort of hair accessory he’d ever seen before. a painstaking wade through thick air was what it took to furrow his eyebrows slightly, glance from it to her - but after a moment’s apparent confusion, she seemed to realise what he was looking at. quickly, she flashed him a smile, raised a hand to it, and when she pulled it away, her fingertips were coated in something far, far darker than she seemed to be.
it started in the roof of his mouth, the bitterness, the coppery bitterness, unmistakable - he couldn’t smell it, but he could taste it, the blood. that’s what it had been, and now, with her head fully turned, he could see it, dripping down her forehead, down her neck, down into her shirt, it had been there the whole time, how could he have not seen it - he tried to open his mouth, he knew he could, but he also knew if he did, he’d be sick.
slowly, she starts to come towards him, but she doesn’t seem to walk - it’s not really a glide, though, either. he’d get up to verify just what the movement was, also likely to sprint out, but once more, he can’t move, not a muscle. all he wants to do is ask if she’s okay - no, no he doesn’t, he wants to shout for someone, he wants to leave.
all he knows for sure is that now, she’s sitting herself down on the edge of the bed, a small smile on her face. that softness, it’s still there, but now there’s something of a challenge to it as well, he knows that glint in her eyes - not from her, but from himself, reflected back in the eyes of others. he doesn’t want a challenge now, though. his only want, he thinks, is simple - he wants to know what the fuck’s happening.
as usual, she seems to know that - and suddenly, there’s noise. she’s been talking all the while, but it hasn’t been his conversation, how the fuck could he think it was his conversation - now, though, it’s his, she’s focused on him, not him. she doesn’t need to tell him to listen - nothing in the world, he thinks, could make him look away now.
“the truth,” she starts, “is in a box under a bed -” and then, although he expects, hopes, needs her to explain, she just shrugs, “- pretty weak hiding place, if you ask me.”
he drops.
like in the short dreams, but not in the uncomfortable sense, the ones you have before the proper dream, where you’re sliding down a ramp and you’re falling into some void and then you hit your bed, and then you can go back to sleep in the comfort it won’t happen again - but he hadn’t been sliding down a ramp, he hadn’t fallen into a void, he had been in his room, he’d been with her.
except he hadn’t.
it’s funny how things just make sense in dreams - because now he’s awake, actually awake, he can see that wasn’t his room. sure, there was that chip on the side of the windowframe, and the way the light hit was identical to the way it is now - but his bed doesn’t face the door. he doesn’t have photos or books piled up on a desk - he doesn’t even have a desk yet. the paintings he could see out through the door - he’s never seen them in his life, he has no idea if they’re the kind of thing his new roommate would like, not yet, anyway - and her.
he has no fucking clue who she was.
#[ tasks ]#spectretask#this! was! way! too! late! im! so! sorry!#my idiot self is like (sees a later deadline from when the task is posted) (puts it off indefinitely)#ah well. at least its done#i would proofread but its currentlyyyy 1:13am i have to be at work in less than nine hours and i still have to go find a gif so. not tonight#i wasnt sure whether or not to tag as gore bc its just a tiny mention of blood but if that does need a tag lmk!
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🍃 I think I'm falling (I'm falling for you) by @beau-soleil-louis Louis is a disaster gay on a skateboard. Harry is a beautiful, quirky stranger on a bicycle. Their first encounter really makes a splash. 📘 when you say you love me, know i love you more by @jimmytfallon Louis discovers one of Harry's insecurities and happily soothes it away.
🍃 Falling For Me Won't Be A Mistake by @all-these-larrythings Harry is married to his job and so overworked that he doesn't know how to stop. All it takes is a forced Hawaiian get-a-away, the warm tropical breeze of the island, and the most beautiful, elusive man he's ever seen to make him remember what living is like outside of work. Well, that, and the little souvenir he accidentally takes home with him.
📘 Sun Means The Sky'll Be Blue by @twoheartsbeating As the only singleton under thirty attending his cousin's five-day wedding, Harry is desperate to find a date, or at least a reason to get people's questions about his love life off his back. So when Louis, Harry's old uni roommate and fellow wedding attendee waltzes back into his life, Harry seizes the opportunity, pretending Louis is his ex-boyfriend and that it's a sore subject not to be mentioned.
If it's a little bit closer to the truth than Harry would like, well, he's a master at living in denial.
So cue a mess of trudged-up feelings, past misunderstandings, a rekindled summer romance and a whole lot of sexually-charged bickering. 🍃 i was getting kinda used to being someone you loved by @werebothstubborn His hand clamps down over Louis’ mouth as firmly as he can manage. “What do you want? C'mon, you have my full attention now. What. Do. You. Want.”
Louis manages to look apologetic as he licks slobbery circles around Harry's palm until he lets go. “Pretend to be my boyfriend,” he says, dramatically gulping in as much air as he can breathe.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“This bloke just came up to me, said he’d give us fifty quid to be in his music video.”
“And you said what? ‘Sure, just let me coerce my friend into it with uncomfortable amounts of PDA and blackmail’?”
Or, Louis has a brilliant idea. Harry begs to differ. Until he doesn't. 📘 say that you can see me (i'll speak up i swear) by @coffeelouis “Well, it’s not like anyone really RSVPs,” Liam defends when Harry turns back to him, “No one takes Facebook events seriously.” Harry rolls his eyes, still finding it within himself to get annoyed in his moment of panic. Liam has been complaining about the lack of accountability Facebook events have bred in their generation since their freshman year. Harry glances back to the gallery entrance. Yep, still there and moving closer.
“But aren’t you guys friends?” Harry asks, trying to convey the urgency in his tone.
“Well, I mean, I talk to him when he stops by the office for supplies sometimes,” Liam reasons, “But I wouldn’t say we’re friends, exactly. Maybe more like, friendly acquaintances?”
Harry groans. “You’re the fucking worst.”
Or, the liberal arts COLLEGE AU where Harry knows Louis as the best friend of the boy he has been hopelessly in love with for years now and Louis knows Harry as this boy he wished would look away from Zayn long enough to notice him. 🍃 Light My Fire, Blow My Flame by @goldbootsandvans “In New York, you can be a new man.” Broadway actor Louis Tomlinson has it all. An amazing flat, a wonderful friend group, a Tony under his belt, and the world at his fingertips. Yet there’s one thing that’s missing. And it might be in the shape of the curly haired lawyer who becomes Zayn’s new roommate.
Or, Louis is a Broadway actor, Harry is a newly graduated lawyer, Liam is a radio DJ, Zayn is an English Professor at NYU, and Niall is a music producer. A Friends AU. 📘 you move like water (yeah and you broke like waves) by @wankerville He gets it, he gets that he's weird, and clumsy, and his hair always seems to be a little greasy. He gets that he talks too slow and has a terrible movie taste and falls too fast, whatever. He can understand that Louis sees him as no more than a friend, and he can live with it. But he can't live with just being a fuck to him, thats something you say about a stripper, or a one night stand, but thats not them. They are best friends who have slept with each other three times already. He could at least call it ‘platonic love making’ or something other than a fuck.
Or, the four times harry sleeps with louis and wakes up alone and the one time he doesnt. 🍃 If the Surface Begs You Home by @becomeawendybird Harry is a mermaid from the underwater kingdom of Mercadia who is a little too fascinated by life above the surface. He's kicked out of his home after he winds up pregnant, and has to figure out how to make his way in the world.
Louis is the darling of the small neighbouring seaside village who came home after university to take over their local library, and can't seem to stay away from the mysterious pregnant mermaid his friends introduce him to. 📘 No Love Like Your Love by @all-these-larrythings When it comes to saving the world from itself and convincing rich CEOs of environmentally harmful companies to go green, there's nobody better than Harry Styles. That is, until Louis Tomlinson, his ex and former Alpha, is involved. 🍃 Watch the Sun Coming Up by @sadaveniren As Louis approaches his thirtieth birthday his pack is desperate for him to find a mate.
Harry has always expected one day he may settle down with a nice alpha and they would continue to live in his small hometown.
Together they somehow will make this work. 📘 Consequences by @allwaswell16 Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up. Sometimes, he even thinks he has. It only takes one moment to freeze them back in time.
An amnesia au. 🍃 Becoming Us by @sweariwouldnt Married at First Sight is a television show in which hopefuls looking for The One are matched by experts deeming them to be the perfect match. The twist? They meet each other for the first time at the altar. When they exchange their 'I do's'. And get married for real.
One Harry and Louis find each other at the altar. They have five weeks to make or break the set-up marriage. 📘 A Taste of Desire by @casuallyhl “As forward as I have been with you this evening, I am also aware this dinner party isn’t the place to conduct business.” Mr. Tomlinson chuckles quietly to himself, shooting a subtle glance across the table towards their hostess. “And besides, I am sure our hostess would be horribly disappointed to learn that we went away this evening with a business agreement and not a mating one.”
Harry, who had been sipping his wine, coughs harshly at this. He splutters, unaccustomed to such blatant statements about mating.
Mr. Tomlinson continues to laugh quietly, clearly pleased at Harry’s reaction.
“Mrs. Humphreys promised that there was an alpha attending the dinner tonight that I would certainly get on well with,” Mr. Tomlinson continues, voice teasing. “She assured me that we would have much in common since we both work with mills.” Mr. Tomlinson glances at Harry, eyes flashing with mirth. “Little did she know that would be where our mutual interests began and ended.”
Or, a Victorian ABO where Harry is the owner of the most successful cotton mill in Manchester, and Louis is an opinionated social activist about to disrupt Harry’s world. 🍃 You're My Only Hope by @chloehl10 Harry and Louis have been hoping to start a family for a while, but it hasn't happened for them just yet. With the surprise arrival of a newborn baby on the doorstep at work, are their family dreams about to become reality? 📘 freaks from the internet by @jaerie Harry sells his breast milk to freaks on the internet. Louis turns out to be one of those freaks. He also happens to be Harry's ex. 🍃 Stealing Flowers by @lululawrence When Louis finally arrived, he walked in and grabbed an apron. Without even saying hello, he immediately approached Jesy and said, “Sexy Stranger steals flowers.”
She kept pouring the Tanqueray shots she had lined up in front of her, but her face screwed up in confusion. “I’m sorry, he what? Did you finally talk to him and that was what you learned?”
He nodded to another couple of tourists and welcomed them to the Way Station as they eagerly made their way to the Tardis restroom.
“No, I didn’t actually talk to him, but—”
“Then how do you know he steals flowers?”
She was wiping down the bar and stacking the empty glasses to take back to the dishwasher when Louis realized maybe he should help too. After all, he was there to work, not just talk to her about his maybe crush.
“I saw a poster.”
Or the one where Louis pines after the Sexy Stranger on the Subway and almost asks him out. That's when the strange posters start showing up around Brooklyn. 📘 hard for me to know i might see you around by @coffeelouis The next profile shows a guy and his horse both crashing into the ground, the bio below reading:
"Hi, I'm Louis, I suck at riding horses so I ride dick."
Harry rolls his eyes and swipes left, but before he can consider the next profile in his feed, there’s a quiet “Oof” from right behind him.
Or, a TINDER AU where Harry swipes left on Louis' joke of a profile, then ends up stuck next to him on a trans-Atlantic flight. 🍃 Hey, Mr. DJ by @allwaswell16 Harry really, really does NOT want to go out to a club tonight and be hassled by a bunch of alpha knotheads, but against his better judgement, he finds himself alone on the dance floor, barefoot, with an orange in his hand. This is all Niall's fault. At least the DJ is the most strikingly gorgeous alpha he's ever seen... 📘 2,870 Miles by @sadaveniren Harry hated the BT Sports commentators, but considering he couldn’t fly to Baku while eight months pregnant this was all he had if he wanted to watch his husband in the Europa League final. 🍃 one man in his time by @bottomlinsons “We’re fake-dating and I’m supposed to publicly break up with you but you’ve been irritating me lately so instead of dumping you I publicly proposed to mess up your plan and now we’re getting married, fuck” au.
[Previous Monthly Recs]
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For Kingdom, For Her - Liam x Kina, Maxwell x MC (1/?)
Book: The Royal Romance
Pairing: Liam x Kina (OC), Maxwell x Riley
Rating: PG (NSFW for certain chapters?)
Summary: In the aftermath of the attack, the Unity Tour starts of at Fydelia. But Madeleine still nurses a deep grudge not only to the royal family, but to the new Duchess Riley, and point blank refuses to step in to help. Help comes in a different form... and one that absolutely distracts Liam in ways he never expected.
Author’s Note: So! In my playthrough, my MC initially really was going to go for Liam... until Maxwell just started growing on her. Truth be told however, I always thought Liam fell way too fast and far for MC after only one night in NYC. I’ve always wondered how it would be like if he actually found someone that he took some time to nurse his affections for, soooo this is my attempt at fleshing out another plotline that is harassing my head! First attempt at an OC for the Choices world, so hope this works! -crossing fingers-
---
“I don’t want to go!” the small girl of five cried, clinging on to her nanny’s legs. The lady in her late forties tried to pry the fingers of the young, blonde haired girl off her, but the small fingers were stronger then they looked, as she wailed despite the constant tugging of her lady’s maid.
At the threshold of the door, a girl about three or four years older then the crying one stood watching, disdain clear as day in her eyes. Dressed in an ice blue dress that made her look regal despite her age, she merely looked up as an elder male with graying hair and blue eyes exactly like the crying younger girl stepped on the scene, and immediately scowled. Next to him, a blonde elder lady stood with green eyes that mirrored a pain at being unable to do anything.
“That is enough, Makeena. Step aside.”
His command was clearly for the struggling lady’s maid, who stepped aside immediately, breathing heavily. Makeena’s sobs subsided to hiccups, but her breathe was shallow as her father stepped nearer, the disdain in his eyes matching the elder girl’s as he paused three steps before the one seated in a heap on the floor, tears unwillingly flowing out.
“You will attend this ball and you will do it with no reluctance. This is the ball where we will finalize Madeleine’s future engagement to Crown Prince Leo and I want nothing that will mess this up, you hear me?” Godfrey’s tone was stern.
But Makeena had always been a headstrong young girl.
“But Daddy, I-”
“Enough!” the Duke thundered, not even bothering to hear her out.
“Godfrey!” Adelaide’s sharp voice cut in, her heart clenching at her youngest daughter’s earnest cries. “She is only five, you can’t possible expect her to-”
“I do, and she will!” he retorted sharply, glaring at his wife. “She is a daughter of the Fydelia house, and she will act as such, and not be an embarrassment to us all!”
Makeena could do nothing but watch as Godfrey swept out, and Adelaide was left with little choice but to follow. Her elder sister scowled as Makeena’s sobs continued, and she sniffed her upturned nose. “Don’t be a shame, Kina. I’m to be the Queen of Cordonia one day. My younger sister can’t be such a crybaby. Grow up.”
---
"Wow, that must be where Madeleine get's her attitude from." Riley muttered, as Hana explained regarding her father and the rest of her family "And I have both of them to look forward to tonight."
"And one more." Hana piped up, with a wince when Riley's eyes widened.
"More?"
"Her youngest sister, Lady Makeena of Fydelia."
Riley froze, Drake paused, and even Maxwell did a double take. "Sister?" they all echoed at the same time.
Liam nodded, drawing to a pause next to Hana. "Indeed. Madeleine has a younger sister, about four years younger then her, named Makeena. She has only ever been to court twice, once when her parent's came to discuss and finalize my brother's betrothal to Madeleine when we were both children. The other was upon Madeleine's betrothal and subsequent dismissal of marriage to Leo."
"And where was she the whole time you were supposed to be betrothed to Madeleine during your tour?" Riley asked, wincing when Hana jabbed her in her ribs. Blame her American blood, but she was too shocked to sweeten her words right about now.
Liam however, just gave a smooth smile, despite his heart lurching at the reminder that not only did he call off his engagement, he also lost the woman he thought he loved. Despite giving his blessings to Riley and Maxwell, and knowing for fact that after the past few weeks of observation, they were both very well suited to each other, the pain of losing her has only dulled, and was a constant reminder.
His years of training to be a composed diplomat and ruler served him well however, as Liam continued. "Adelaide mentioned that due to Godfrey having to return to his duchy in Karlington, Makeena had to be left at home to run the main Fydelian duchy as Adelaide accompanied Madeleine to court.”
"Ah."
"You'll do fine." Hana murmured in encouragement as they entered the ballroom.
---
Liam stood by his parents, watching as Riley tried but failed to get Madeleine to help her. He internally rolled his eyes at his former fiance's reaction. It was obvious that she was enjoying denying Riley a little too much. Madeleine had always been petty and spiteful, but he had always overlooked it in favor of her being a splendid candidate that was specially catered for the ruling position in Cordonia.
He could never imagine spending the rest of his life with her though.
Watching as Riley returned to the side of their friends, he knew they would do their best to comfort her, and with Maxwell around, Liam shifted his attention instead to the conversation Constantine and Regina were having with Godfrey and Adelaide, before the conversation turned to him and his newest position, all while Godfrey opened up his private stash of drinks, and Liam blinked.
"Father, you know better then to-"
"I know, I know." Constantine chuckled good-naturedly, turning down the glass that Godfrey was beginning to offer him. "My son is naggier then a nursemaid, I swear."
Godfrey laughed as the King did, but instead passed the glass of scotch to Liam, who smiled in returned. "I'd be thankful if I had a son who would bother."
There was no doubt that Liam detected the bitterness within Godfrey's tone but let it slide, as he took a sip of the scotch as the King left to mingle with the others. "This is stupendous!" he muttered in surprise, once the liquid burned it's way down his throat. "I've never tasted such a unique blend of smoky and floral before."
"Yes, I had a case imported from my duchy." the Duke replied, taking a swig from his own glass, swirling in after. "It was the only way to find anything worth drinking in this country."
Liam frowned, his automatic defense mechanism jumping at the mildly disparaging comment regarding his country, yet he tamped his anger down when his eyes spied Riley approaching, and instead, rearranged his face into a soft smile as she got within earshot.
He was quick to excuse himself once Riley had stated her intentions, knowing full well her agenda for the night. Taking a step towards the food served he served himself some pasta and steak, when a brief gust of wind from a nearby opened window at the ballroom made him look up, just in time to see a slight figure, with a head of blonde locks slipping down the hallway. Dressed in a body hugging dress in cobalt blue, something about the figure rang Liam's bells in his head, and against his better judgement, Liam placed his untouched food down, and dogged her steps down the hallway.
---
Twenty years later, and Kina still hated it when the Fydelia duchy manor was filled with guests, people and festivities. Oh, she knew this was happening, of course she did. Who else would’ve ensured everything was running as it should when the Duke was more often in Karlington then he was in Fydelia, Madeleine was more obsessed over her looks and figure and how court would be like then she was concerned with her own house, and the Duchess was more often three sheets to the wind?
The maids came to her for advice, the cooks asked her for the menu, and the butler referred to her for arrangements and cleaning schedules. Kina was unabashed to say she single-handedly ran the Fydelia duchy... but that didn’t mean she had to show her face at the function.
Once she was convinced that everything was running like clockwork as it should, she had ducked out of the ballroom, and was making a beeline for the newest book she had asked Geoffrey to fetch from the marketplace bookshop for her, when an echo of footsteps behind her in the empty hallway made Kina pause, and then turn.
Her jaw dropped when she recognized who it was, only the obsession of her sister’s focus ever since the previous Crown Prince had abdicated.
“Your Highness!” Kina immediately greeted, dropping into a curtsy, fingers pinching the silken material of her blue dress, as she dipped her head down respectfully.
“Please, abstain from the formalities. We are not in any formal setting.” His voice was smooth as he approached, enough for Kina to assume she as allowed to straighten up now, yet unable to wipe the curious look from her eyes. “I am... assuming you’re Lady Makeena, Madeleine’s younger sister?”
“I am, Your Highness. Do call me Kina, Makeena is... a rather long mouthful.” she replied with a hidden wince when she had to pronounce her long name.
He chuckled, but admitted to himself that the smile she wore as she glanced at him was... almost refreshing. Not many females in the kingdom would look at him without simpering or doing something to pander to his fancy. Even after his engagement to Madeleine was announced, the amount of girls throwing themselves at him never seemed to dwindle, and if anything doubled ever since the engagement was called off. Madeleine herself seemed to still think something could brew between them, even if she had all but consented Riley to be his mistress had their marriage went through. So in honesty, Liam was quite surprised that her sister was different compared to Madeleine.
“Lady Kina, then. We’ve met before, a long time ago when my brother was still around.”
“I remember.” her response was quick, and Liam couldn’t help the smile when he saw her small smile that seemed almost playful, cheeky in the dim lighting of the room adjoining the ballroom. “It was at the official announcement of Leo and Madeleine’s engagement... what, two years ago?”
“About there.” she paused, her eyes flitting back to the ballroom. “Duchess Riley seems like a well fit for the new position. Is... she enjoying herself in Cordonia?”
“As much as she can, in light of the recent attacks. But I think Maxwell is a great help to her.”
“I can see.” Kina responded. “Lord Maxwell is loyal and looks like he would move heaven and earth for her. They are a great fit.”
Astute too, Liam thought immediately. In a way, he guessed it was a family thing. As toxic as Madeleine could get, she could always get a good read on someone. “That they are.” he agreed out loud, “The Unity Tour and their subsequent marriage is one of the ways we hope would unite Cordonia again.”
“I’m sure it would, especially when you are all presenting such a strong front to the public.” she paused, and then asked with a curious note in her voice. “Is there a reason why Duchess Riley was speaking to my sister earlier? Madeleine looked... a little too happy.”
Liam winced, a wry smile curling his lips upwards. “Well... Bertrand came up with the bright idea of having Madeleine as Riley’s press secretary, since Justin has been injured. I... don’t think your sister is very open to the idea though.”
Kina raised a wry brow, as if a silent ‘you don’t say’ was left unspoken on her lips. Before any of them could say a word however, a ruckus from the ballroom caught their attention, and Kina groaned out loud, forgetting just for a moment that she was in the presence of the ruler of her own country. “Someone left Father and Mom together alone for too long again.” she muttered, and before Liam could say word, Kina had picked up her heavy skirts and started running towards the ballroom, leaving him with no choice but to follow suit.
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"lay your head in my lap and try to get some rest." // “hush, i’m trying to kiss you." // "you can’t punish people for who they are." // "take care of yourself, please. i don’t know what id do if anything happened to you." // "i don’t want to be overdramatic, but today felt like 100 years in hell and the absolute worst day of my life."
”Lay your head in my lap and try to get some rest."
Here he was with Lux. Lux of the steady hands and steady voice. If she wasn’t warm, at least she made him feel safe, in a way no one had for months. If she wasn’t his other half, she was special to him in her own way, in spite of-because of his coolness and unflappability and intense, obsessive focus on his interests to the exclusion of all else. Lux would always be his. “Alright princess, whatever you say.” He sighs contently as his palm makes rhythmic circles around her knee, and he rises to meet her lips. Once again, he remembers his past.This time though, he remembers an anecdote that his father once told him. When he was a boy, his father told him that some people were made of stars from the heavens, their beauty too celestial and ethereal for this world. Thomas then recalls how afterward, his father pointed to his mother, and said she was one of those people. He told Thomas that she was crafted by the Maker himself from star stuff, molded and shaped for him to love. He smiles as this memory makes itself known again, looking into the mocha orbs of his love. Lux is one of those people, fashioned from the stars by the Maker himself. Fashioned for him.She giggles as he lays his head down in her, pressing his body over hers. Fingers twirling in his hair, he supports her back as they kiss. Her kisses always taste different depending on the day and circumstance. Playful when they are stolen in the war room. Full of longing after returning home from so long. Tasting of love and comfort, “Hey Lux, promise me something?” he trails off now as he looks up at her. “When this all goes to shit, don’t forget about me, okay? no matter what they say.”
“Hush, i’m trying to kiss you."
Black, purple and yellow. Those were the colours that covered his body, his entire body ached, even breathing was a problem. Droplets of water started to fall from the sky announcing the storm that was going to hit the island. Thomas flinched in pain, yet that didn't stop him from wrapping his arms around the small body that was using him as support.He was accustomed with the pain, but the feeling that was burning inside his chest every time he thought about the mochas orbs that seemed to come to life whenever he made a joke.The same eyes that were watching him with awe that very moment. “ This is hard for me, ya know. I feel like any second you’re going to figure out what a piece of shit I am and leave me. When you were dancing last night, I saw a dozen different guys watching you.” Lux made her way towards the heart of the Pogues without even trying, her presence craved by both males and females. At every party, different people were gathered around her, yet she always tended to gravitate towards him.Small touches, hazy smiles that showed more than the sly smirk that she was usually wearing on her lips, they all drove him mad. “Yeah, I know what your thinking I sound like a fucking idiot but god you're just -“ he cuts himself short now as he shakes his head. Turning them around, Thomas pressed her against the cold wall. His hand slipped down on her tight, slowly making it way up under the oversized hoodie she was wearing. His lips crashed against her, her hands pressing on his shoulders, making her steady in her place. “I’m stealing you for myself this time, alright?” he breathes against her lips.
"You can’t punish people for who they are.”
There was nothing soft about his actions, they were harsh just as him. That was why he loved the sea. It could take all the anger that he had, but Lux was not taking his anger. She wanted him to be stronger, to work through that anger and to let it go. With her, everything had a price.The urgency in her tone made him drop his hands to his side, palm rubbing the back of his nape. He was expecting her to say that it was a mistake, that it would only be a one time thing, yet he looked down at his hands, which were covered in red. “I don't pity and I do no charity. Liam and Cami were right, with your fancy dresses and parties while the other half of the islands suffering. And your dad..” he trailed off whilst shaking his head. Thomas almost laughed at the insanity of it all, “we come from two different worlds and I don’t want to drag you through more shit, alright? Just go home Lux.” His heart lurched. He drew his phone before he was consciously aware of moving, or even deciding. His hands rattled, too badly to take the shot, he hates himself for it but he knows it has to be done. He grit his teeth, stilling himself, pushing away the panic and pain. Her hard expression softened into something he had never seen before." Am I? Punishing you, cause I don’t know what I’ll do when your dead and it’s on me. " Besides Thomas, he could not think of another person that looked at him without judgement or pity, when he was marked by his father's anger.
"take care of yourself, please. i don’t know what id do if anything happened to you."
With a bang and a screech, the lift lurched downward, and he threw his arms around Lux before he would drop. “Hold on to me,” he said, uselessly; they were already so close, near enough that he could feel her breath against his temple. Despite his pain and fading grasp on consciousness, his arm was solid around her, steady. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d really held someone like this, or been held. “I’ll be back and pissing you off before you know it.” He flushed; stupid to get bent out of shape over an unconnected thought, madness summoned by adrenaline. He never knew what shock would do to his brain. Light swelled, spilling over his gaunt features, before they slipped into darkness again. But he felt her stare, like heat on bare skin after a lifetime spent in the cold, and wondered distantly how he could touch her without his hands, only a look. “Hold onto this for me, alright?” he muses pressing his fathers compass into the palm of her hand now. Their breathing entwined, painfully loud in the close space, “gives me an excuse to see you again, I’ll be fine just get in the van with Cami alright? I love you.” Through his shirt, he felt the warmth of her, his narrow waist; lean-muscled from a lean life. She knew so little about it. Don’t look at me like that. He couldn’t form the words, as he pressed a soft kiss against her lips. “ See you on the other side baby.”
"i don’t want to be overdramatic, but today felt like 100 years in hell and the absolute worst day of my life.”
The soft moon light bathed her in an aura that was almost sinful in its beauty. The way it played with the wisps of hair that stuck up from the sloppy bun atop her head, or how it made her porcelain skin glow with a radiance that he was sure only mythological goddess of old possessed. He couldn’t help but notice how when she leaned against the porch swing, with her arms folded beneath her bust, that her right leg came to rest on the point of her toe behind her left. The way her back curved upwards into the valley of her shoulder blades, which he could see with such striking detail thanks to the tight fitting jacket she wore while running. He couldn’t look away, no matter how hard he tried. She was beautiful, so god damned beautiful that even in this moment he was bowled over by it. He couldn’t help but think that this was something he could get used to, like it had happened a thousand times before, and would happen a thousand times after this. Thomas sat beside her now, pulling her into his lap as he pressed soft kisses along her neck. “I know, but at least we’re all okay. Thats what matters most.” All the same, he feels something when he sees her. It can’t be love, because he doesn’t think he’s earned the pleasure of the word. It's something, all the same but he’ll claim her as his own. “Now, if you go to my room and open your little dresser I have something for you that’ll cheer you up.” He chuckles now as he plays with her hair before looking up at her softly. “What do ya say Lux? Come on.”
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Dammit Ruby!
Summary: Ruby forces Emma to go shopping with her, then forces her to try on a bunch of outfits. While Emma is in the changing room, Ruby decides it’d be funny to steal all of Emma’s clothes, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. As Emma decides she’s just going to have to try to sneak out in her underwear and hope no one notices, she bumps into a solid figure, and later learns his name is Killian Jones.
Prompt by: @irishswanff
Notes: This is another birthday gift for Rouhn, although it's very late, but it seemed appropriate to post it on April Fools Day. It might be too late for people who've already read this but I altered the ending from the original post. Hope you all enjoy!
Also available on: AO3 FF.N
“I am not wearing that.”
“Why not?” Ruby asked, a look of confusion washing over her features. “You don’t have anything else in your closet that even comes close to resembling a dress.”
“That's a shirt,” Emma corrected. “I wore that for Halloween three years ago, remember?” Her voice was a mixture of amusement and irritation as her best friend held up a long, black shirt that Emma had worn with a pair of black leggings as part of her cat costume for halloween. It was low-cut and very revealing. She had worn a long-sleeved shirt underneath it, but she would certainly not wear it by itself, especially as a dress with no pants.
“But it's the most normal thing you have.”
Emma sighed and took the shirt from her friend, hanging it back up in the closet. “Absolutely not.”
Ruby crossed her arms. “So what are you going to wear for your date tomorrow night then? Certainly not what you have on now.”
Emma put up her hands in defense, confused as she peered down at her clothes. She had on a long, grey shirt and faded jeans. “What's wrong with what I'm wearing?”
“Seriously? You look like a homeless person,” Ruby replied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Emma shot her an offended look. “I do not.”
“Whatever you say, Em.”
Emma visibly sighed. She didn't even want to go on this date in the first place. It was a blind date that was set up by Ruby and her boyfriend, Liam, who was also her date’s brother. She had never met the guy, he had just moved to the States from England, but she already detested him based simply upon the fact that Ruby and Liam had practically shoved this date down her throat.
Emma grabbed a black sweater with colorful flowers over the shoulder and a long, jean skirt from the pile of clothes on the bed that Ruby had already disapproved of. “What about this sweater and skirt? I don't have to look like a slut for this guy to like me, do I?”
Ruby scoffed. “Oh dear lord, you are not wearing that. Killian is not shallow, but still, you’re going on a date, not trying to get adopted. That sweater in particular is absolutely hideous and that skirt is something my granny would wear. I wouldn't be caught dead in those clothes if I were the last orphan on earth.”
Emma scowled, unappreciative of the orphan remarks. Emma's parents had given her up for adoption as a baby and after being shuffled through the foster system for twelve years, the Nolan family kindly took her in; Ruby had lived down the street from them. Her parents had died in a car accident when Ruby was only six years old and was taken in by her Granny Lucas. Ruby was one of the few people who understood what it was like to feel alone, so they soon became best friends. They were inseparable after that even when they went off to college. They both moved to New York, far away from their hometown.
Ruby took the hangers with the sweater and skirt between her fingertips as though they were contaminated with some deadly virus and threw them back on the mountainous pile before grabbing the shirt-dress again. “You're wearing this.”
Emma huffed and put it right back in the closet. “I'm definitely not wearing this. You should know that I would feel very uncomfortable in this. Halloween was bad enough and clearly a lack of judgement on my part, but a first date? No thanks.” She really didn't know how she and her roommate put up with one another after all these years, they were so different. Other than the fact that they were both raised without birth parents, they had nothing in common. Ruby was boisterous and bold and had no boundaries. It was a wonder how her boyfriend was a straight-laced naval officer. Maybe it was the way the man looked in a uniform, Emma didn't really know.
Ruby expelled a heavy sigh, resting her hands on her hips. “Well, what do you propose you wear then? And don't you dare say a sweater and jeans.”
Emma shrugged. “This is all of the clothes I have, Ruby.” Her friend had already done a thorough search and had thrown everything she didn't approve of on the bed, which was everything except for the black shirt-dress.
“Fine, you're wearing something of mine,” Ruby decided as she started to head for the door.
“I already told you I'm not wearing your clothes,” Emma refused. She loved her roommate dearly, but Ruby had a very loud taste, with her bright, revealing clothes and over-accessorizing; there was no way Emma would wear anything in Ruby's closet. Emma shot Ruby a scowl that told her she was not backing down from her stance.
“Fine, we’re going shopping.”
~*~
Emma hated the mall. She hated everything about it. She hated the obnoxious stores and the clothes and posters with ridiculously good-looking models; like if anyone wore the clothes that the models posed in, this is what they would look like. That was definitely not the case with Emma, as far as she knew. She certainly would never look that good in a camisole or a pair of jean shorts. Emma had always been comfortable with wearing loose, baggy clothing. Grey hoodies and sweatpants were her forte.
“Ooh, this is my store. We’re going in here.” Ruby grabbed Emma's hand and hurried into one that of course had mannequins wearing ripped and revealing material. Seriously, who bought clothes that were pre-ripped anyway?
The store looked like a place where members of a motorcycle gang and their wives would go to shop. They walked around and Ruby grabbed every item that looked good to her, which was pretty much the whole fucking store, other than the men's section. Emma was amazed that such a small person could carry that amount of clothing at once.
“Okay, you're trying these on. Let's get you a fitting room.”
Emma sighed in exasperation. She already knew that she wasn't going to like anything Ruby offered her. This was going to be a long day.
It had been an hour of trying on hideous outfits, from black leather skirts and fishnet stockings to slutty red dresses and see-through leopard blouses that revealed her bra. Emma became exhausted from trying on clothes and she was only two seconds away from calling off the date altogether. “No more. Please,” Emma begged from the fitting room in a little navy blue wrap dress. She eyed herself in the mirror. No, she was definitely not wearing this. It had a very low neckline, showing off the valley of her breasts and it was laced up in the back, revealing far too much skin than Emma was comfortable with. She liked the dress, the lightweight fabric and how she actually looked in it, but she wasn't confident enough to actually wear it.
Emma was used to loose-fitting clothes that didn't show off her curves or other assets. She didn't really think she had anything to show off. But she to admit, as she turned to the side and studied the image in the mirror, she didn't hate what she saw. In fact she was very pleased with the reflection. Of course, that's how these fitting rooms were designed, with the dim lighting and specially-designed mirrors that were most likely altered somehow so that customers were happy with what the saw in the mirror and ended up purchasing the items.
“This is the last one, promise. Now let me see.”
Emma sighed in defeat before lifting her hand and turning the door handle. She drew in a long breath for stepping out.
Ruby's jaw drooped at the sight before her. A slow, broad smile graced the brunette’s lips. “Holy shit, Em. You need to show that hot bod more often, oh my god. If you weren't my best friend and roommate I'd hit that.”
Emma blushed as she looked down at her dress with a sheepish smile. “You really like it?”
“Ummm… duh. Now turn around, let me see the back.”
Emma reluctantly shifted and did a slow spin, revealing her backside for everyone to see. She was wearing her super girl bra and panties underneath and the blue strap was shown under the laced-up back but luckily they were similar hues of blue. She heard Ruby whistle as Emma finished, facing her roommate again.
“Of course, when you wear this, you will not be wearing a bra.”
“If I wear this,” Emma pronounced. “Emphasis on ‘if’.
“Okay come on, you look drop dead gorgeous. Killian's eyes are going to pop out of his fucking head.”
“Even if you were right, which is highly unlikely, I'm not sure I want that reaction.”
Ruby looked dumbfounded. “Why would you not want your date drooling over you? The guy’s hot and if he's anything like his brother, he'll be incredible in the sac.”
Emma's eyes blew wide. “Ruby!” she chastised. “First of all, that's way more information than I ever needed to know and second of all, there will be no ‘sacs’ of any kind involved unless it's a to-go sac from the restaurant. This is a first date and there's no way he'd ever want me anyways.”
Ruby's features lightened. “Don't sell yourself short, Emma,” she said softly. “Any guy would be lucky to be with you. When are you going to realize that?”
Emma looked at her doubtfully.
“Alright, I have an idea. Why don't I pay for the dress and when you decide you feel confident enough to wear it, then it's yours,” Ruby suggested. “And if you want to wear sweaters and jeans on your date, I'm sure Killian will like you nevertheless.”
Emma narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Really? You're just going to be okay with me wearing that ugly sweater with the granny skirt?”
Ruby's nose scrunched up in disgust. “Not really… but if it's what you're more comfortable in, then you should wear it.”
Emma was not buying it. There was no way Ruby would settle for that outfit as long as Emma was going on a date with her boyfriend’s brother. This was some kind of trick, Emma was sure if it. “Alright. If you really want to buy it just so it will hang up in my closet, collecting dust.”
“That's fine.” Ruby looked indifferent about it, but Emma knew her roommate better than that. “Now go change out of the dress so I can pay for it and then we can get some soft pretzels in the food court. I'm starving.”
Emma studied Ruby one last time before turning around to head back into the fitting room. “Okay then.” She cautiously slipped inside, shutting the door behind her.
“Hey, how about I take your clothes back while you change,” Ruby suggested through the door.
Emma complied without even giving it another thought and let Ruby in to take the clothes.
“Just hang the dress over the door when you're out of it and I'll bring it up to the register to pay for it.”
“Okay.” Emma turned away from both her friend and the mirror on the wall as she started pulling her straps down. Ruby gathered the clothes in her arms and Emma opened the door just enough to allow Ruby to walk out with the clothes before shutting it behind her. Emma slipped out of the dress, letting it fall to the floor. She stepped out of it and bent over to pick it up, replacing it on the hanger before throwing it over the top of the door, letting it drape over the edge. It was quickly removed from the other side as Emma turned around to get the clothes she arrived there with.
Her face fell in confusion.
Her clothes were gone. All that was left was her purse and shoes. “Rubs, you accidentally took my clothes,” she called through the door, but even after a moment she heard no response. She tapped on the door. “Ruby, I need my clothes back.”
There was still no answer. Emma huffed in frustration. Why the hell did Ruby take her street clothes? Emma went to her purse and pulled out her phone to text her friend.
I need my clothes back so I can get dressed. Please and thank you.
Emma waited. Still no reply. She started to panic, her stomach coiling with nerves as she cracked the door open ever so slightly and peeked through it. There was no sign of Ruby, although the angle of the opening only allowed her a limited view. “Ruby, are you out there? Please, I need my clothes back. I'm getting cold.” Goosebumps crawled up her skin and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the air.
Emma started to get irritated as she shut the door and stepped back, trying to think her way out of this current predicament. How could Ruby do this to her? It was obviously one of her sick pranks. Emma had usually been lucky enough not to be on the other end of them, it was usually Emma's adoptive brother, David, who fell victim. Ruby absolutely loved pulling pranks on him. She lived for it. Every year on April Fools, she came up with the most deceptive, carefully concocted schemes. Emma was pretty sure it was Ruby's favorite day of the year.
Fuck.
Emma glanced at her phone. It was April 1st. Shit shit shit. This was one of Ruby's godforsaken April Fools pranks. There was no way Emma was getting out of this with her pride and dignity in tact.
Okay, just breathe, Emma tried to coax herself, taking in deep breaths. They both arrived at the mall in Ruby's car and surely she wouldn't leave without her best friend. Or would she? This was one of her stupid pranks after all.
Emma started to get frustrated. She really did not want to spend her whole day in this damn dressing room in her underwear. She reached the door again and opened it ever so slightly, checking out her surroundings. The store was only mildly busy and the fitting rooms were located in the back end. There were a few racks of clothes about twenty feet away. What if she just darted out and grabbed a dress real quick and ran back in. Then at least she would be clothed and she could pay for the items at the front counter. Emma shut the door again and went to her purse to get her wallet. Emma's eyes blew wide when she found it was missing.
Shit.
Ruby took her wallet too? “You've got to be kidding me Lucus,” Emma muttered as she shoved her purse away. She picked up her phone and tried to call Ruby, but it went straight to her voicemail of course. Emma left a ‘not so lovely’ message with several explicit words before she hung up. She thought about calling someone else, maybe her friend, Regina, but then she figured Ruby would have made sure to tell all of their friends not to answer. Emma called Regina anyway, but of course there was no answer. She tried Victor and Jefferson but she had no such luck. Some friends.
Then she finally got a response from Ruby.
Sorry, Em. I just wanted you to get out of that shell of yours. Meet me in the foodcourt when you're bold enough to leave that fitting room.
“Damnit Ruby!” She shouted at her phone.
She approached the door one more time. She decided she was going to steal the clothes if she had to. She was no thief, but yep, that was pretty much her only solution other than being stuck in the fitting all day until her friend decided she had enough of a laugh and came back for her.
Emma looked down at her bra and underwear. God this would be so embarrassing if someone saw her. The Superman logo was on each cup of her bra and also on the back of her underwear. She was a Supergirl-watching junkie, so what?
After seeing that she was in the clear, at least for the time being, she swallowed thickly, preparing herself for what she had to do.
She scanned the selection of clothes, picking out one of the dresses that she could easily grab. She made sure there was no one in the back of store before proceeding.
Steadying her breathing, she left the door cracked open so as not to lock herself out and bolted for the rack. She swooped over and grabbed the dress, but when she went to pull it off the rack, the straps were snagged on something. Emma cursed under her breath as she struggled to entangle it. It was caught on an adjacent hanger. Okay, next dress.
Emma looked up and saw someone coming. Panic rushed through her blood. She looked at the fitting room door but it was too far away. The person would definitely see her. So she quickly ducked and hid inside the rack behind the clothes. She prayed that whoever it was would just walk by and not linger. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she saw footsteps approaching. She could tell by the black boots that it was a man. She watched him walk by and sighed in relief.
She grabbed a different dress and pulled it down before she opened up a space between the clothing. She poked out her head and looked in both directions, seeing that it was clear. She started to bolt towards the fitting room, watching behind her to make she wasn't spotted by an employee. The coast was clear and she was so close to the finish line. Then she whipped her head around before smacking right into something solid almost knocking it over. Or rather, someone. On instinct, she grabbed onto the person as his arms wrapped around her waist to keep her from falling.
Emma's whole body froze when her eyes met his. She lost a breath, getting lost in the bright blue depths that made her forget about her current predicament as her mouth fell open.
“Whoa, careful lass.”
His accented words brought her back to reality and she pulled away slightly, scanning him from top to bottom. She noticed he was wearing jeans and a blue Henley before her eyes came back to his. He had dark, unruly hair and scruff on his chin and he certainly didn't look like he belonged in this store.
Emma became unfocused again, until she heard him clear his throat, eyeing her body. “Um, excuse me for saying so, but…” he side-stepped to block her from the front of the store and leaned in, speaking quietly, “...are you aware that you're in only your underwear?”
Fuck. Emma quickly lifted the dress up against her body to cover herself, her cheeks just as red as the color of the fabric.
The man chuckled as she scrambled for an excuse.
“I was um… I was just… this is a bathing suit... I was just trying it on and I was going to model it for my friend but I seemed to have lost her,” the words stumbled out as she attempted a smile.
He nodded as though to humor her. “I see… I've never seen Superman bikinis before but it's a good look on you.”
Emma blushed even more, if it were possible. “Yeah, it's the newest fashion in bathing suits,” she said, trying to sound cool and collected but her voice was shaky and her words were broken. God, she was so lame.
“Hmmm…” He nodded again, biting his bottom lip and she could tell he didn't believe her.
Emma sighed. “Fine. My friend took my clothes and wallet, leaving me in only my underwear when I was in the fitting room and I was trying to steal this dress so I could leave without completely humiliating myself but apparently that did not work very well.” She paused to catch her breath. “So, go ahead and tell on me. There's really no way to make this day any more worse than it already is.”
He flashed her an empathetic smile. “Sorry to hear, love. But I can assure you I won't rat you out. In fact… why don't you change into the dress and I'll pay for it.”
Emma's jaw dropped in shock. “Really?” She shook her head. “No, I couldn't ask you to do that.”
“I insist. Believe me, I know far too well what's it's like to be the butt of a joke; I have an older brother.”
Emma managed a small smile. “Thank you.” She started to move but then looked down at the dress. “Do you mind if I pick something else out?”
Killian eyed the clothing in her hand and cocked a brow. “What, red leather dresses not your style?”
Emma laughed. “Not really. I'm more of a hoodie and sweatpants kind of girl.”
“I see. Why don't you secure yourself in the fitting room and I'll find you something else?”
“Thank you. You're a lifesaver.” She almost bounced in excitement before going to the fitting room, taking the dress with her just in case he ditched her too.
Five minutes later, there was a light tap on the door. Emma opened it and poked her head out. “I hope these are okay, love. I wasn't sure of your size so I got a few.”
“Thank you.” Emma took the clothes and shut the door. He had gotten her some leggings and a gray t-shirt. Perfect. Emma put on a pair that fit her, along with the t-shirt before stepping into her flats. She grabbed her purse and left the fitting room, meeting the kind, handsome stranger outside the door. “Thank you again,” she told him graciously.
“Not a problem.” He chuckled as they went up to the front counter to purchase the items and stood in line. “Glad I could help out a damsel in distress.”
“I was not distressed,” she argued. “Okay, maybe a little,” she laughed. “So, what made you decide to come here, if you don't mind me asking? It doesn't seem like your type of store.”
“Well, according to my brother and his girlfriend, I dress too boring, and they suggested that I buy some new clothes for this blind date I'm going on. So he was going to meet me here to help me pick out an outfit but never showed.”
Emma looked at him suspiciously. “Your brother sounds like my roommate. She took me here to get some new clothes for this blind date she set me up on.” They both looked to each other knowingly.
“You're Ruby's friend, Emma Swan?”
She nodded in disbelief. “And you're Killian, Liam's brother?”
“Aye.” He stuck out his hand and she shook it. “Nice to meet you, love.”
“You too. So, you said your brother was meeting you here?”
Killian nodded. “We were supposed to meet in this store twenty minutes ago.”
“So they both planned this. Those conniving little…” She paused and a slow, devious smile spread across her lips, thoughts starting to swarm in her head as she tried think of a way to get Ruby back for her little prank. “So how would you feel about getting back at my roommate and your brother?”
Killian smirked with mischief. “I'd say I'm on board with that. What did you have in mind?”
~*~
Ruby and Liam were sitting at one of the tables together in the food court, chatting as Emma and Killian approached, drawing their attention.
Both Ruby and Liam’s jaws dropped to the floor, their eyes blown wide.
Emma smirked and had her arm around Killian's back as he wrapped his around her shoulder. They were both wearing black leather jackets and pants. Emma had on a hot pink, ripped blouse and he was wearing a biker t-shirt that read ‘pussy magnet’ and had an earring in one ear. They started to walk past Ruby and Liam who were just sitting there completely baffled.
Emma grabbed Killian's face and they started making out in front of them, their tongues caressing as they moaned softly. They wrapped their arms around each other, hands groping any body part within reach, not even paying attention to their audience. Emma smirked wickedly against Killian's lips before they pulled apart.
Liam and Ruby called their names but they ignored them.
“What do you say we get out of here?” Emma suggested to Killian.
He extended his hand for her to take. “Where would you like to go, babe?”
She smiled, happily slipping her palm in his. “Anywhere but the mall.”
“As you wish.” They walked away from Ruby and Liam who were still completely and utterly stunned.
They left the mall, laughing until their ribs hurt before Killian took her home. Emma had to admit, it ended up being a pretty decent day after all.
When they arrived at Emma's apartment complex, Killian walked Emma to her door. “Thanks again, Killian for buying my clothes. I'll pay you back when Ruby returns my wallet.”
“No need,” he smiled. “I'm just glad Liam didn't do that to me.”
Emma looked at him curiously. “Why’s that? Can't handle the embarrassment of walking around the store in your undies?” she laughed.
Killian chuckled back and leaned in closer, speaking in a low, sinful tone. “You're assuming that I wear underwear, love.”
Emma's breath hitched as she lifted a curious brow. “And I have a feeling I'm wrong about that assumption?”
Killian shrugged and flashed her a devilish grin. “Wouldn't you like to know.”
Emma smirked and eyed his mouth. “Maybe I would.” She closed the distance, curling her hands around the lapels of his jacket and capturing his lips. He groaned in response, both of them sighing pleasantly, getting caught up in a slow, heated kiss.
After they broke for air, she gave Killian her number before he bid her farewell.
They went on their date and she wore the blue dress that Ruby bought her. It turned out Emma's roommate was right about two things; Killian's eyes popped out of his head when he saw her in that dress, and he really was incredible in the sac. She also found out that he indeed does not wear undies.
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And My Heart Is A Hollow Plain~ III
Its the 1600s and all Louis wants is the freedom he knows he will never taste again.
He knew happiness, knew a good life and love. Had dreams and reasons to see the good in people, to expect good things from life.
Forced into a marriage he will never get out of, all he’s looking for is a breath of life. Maybe something or someone to come save him from the hell he knows.
~III
When Louis was back in the house he went straight to Howard's study where he had his wine and drank straight from the bottle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He took deep breaths trying to calm himself down then made his way to his bedroom, going straight to the bathroom after seeing he still wasn't there.
While he was there he took his pants off leaving himself naked from the waist down then grabbed a small bottle of oil pouring some on his fingers. He slowly inserted two fingers inside of him, stretching himself a bit more then added a third one until he was satisfied and sure he was ready.
He kept telling himself that it was the right thing to do, that he needed to survive no matter what. That day, while he was getting married, he had done so with tears running down his cheeks and a tight painful grip on his arm. If he had made it through a wedding with a heavy heart full of pain knowing his Edward was long gone, then he could make it through this. He had lived four years through the abuse, so what he was about to do was nothing compared to it. He could do it and buy himself time before attempting to escape with Liam, Lucy and his child.
He froze when he heard the door opening then muffled voices and signs of someone struggling. A few minutes later Liam knocked on the door and he hesitantly opened it, making sure he covered his lower body seeing Liam standing in front of him wearing a hard cold expression. Liam had never looked at him like that. It made his insides twist and turn in an ugly way, enough to give him a stomach ache.
"He's ready and...I- I hope you know what you are doing. You are risking everything." Liam said.
"I'm risking my life if I don't get pregnant tonight." Louis retorted.
"I can't change your mind." Liam sighed.
"Make sure a doctor sees his friend and give them a good meal, they must be starving. Save a plate for him too." Louis lowly said, watching Liam nodding before he left leaving Louis alone with him.
He dared himself to look at him, seeing his hands tied up to the headboard, staring right back at him with a bored expression. He rolled his eyes and grabbed the bottle of oil before he made his way to him, climbing on the bed until he was on his knees next to him.
"Well...get to it, I don't have all night." Harry snapped, bringing Louis out of the haze he was in.
Louis gulped then with shaky hands reached for Harry's shirt, unbuttoning it to reveal a tan and toned chest. He trailed his fingers down the warm smooth skin stopping right below his navel. He took a deep breath then unbuttoned Harry's pants, hearing his breath hitching the moment he palmed him through his pants.
He reached for the hem trying to pull them down until Harry lifted his hips up and his eyes widened just by seeing how big he was. He avoided his gaze, feeling his eyes on him and without saying anything straddled him and poured oil on the palm of his hand. He closed his eyes then opened them again, wrapping his hand around his cock barely able to wrap it all the way around when his hands were small. He moved his hand up and down unable to tune out his groans that seemed to get louder the faster he moved his hand as he got harder and harder. Louis somehow found it bearable unlike with husband.
"Slow down." He said, watching him doing as told, "Your name?"
"W- What?" Louis asked, finally looking at him, finding his red swollen lips so kissable.
"What's your name?"
"Louis." He quickly answered, wanting to smack himself for telling him but it was too late.
"Get to it, kitten. I don't have all night." Harry said, leaning forward to kiss him but was left surprised when Louis quickly pulled away.
Louis only nodded and after lubing him up and making sure it was more than enough, he turned around with his back to Harry, straddling him and once again leaving his shirt on. Louis reached out to line his cock with his hole, sinking down and not stopping until he was flushed against Harry's hips. He heard his breath hitching as he tried to get used to him who happened to be bigger than his pathetic husband.
He took deep breaths then lifted his hips up ready to lower them down again when Harry bucked his hips up thrusting into him, making him grab fistfuls of the white bedsheets. All he could feel was him going in and out of him, trying to stay still when the urge to run away kept growing, but stayed where he was supporting himself with his knees. When Harry finally got tired was when Louis snapped out of his haze and started moving his hips up and down then eight figures trying to get him to come faster.
"What's the rush k- kitten?" Harry stammered, then let out a groan the faster Louis moved.
Louis ignored him in favor of continuing what he was doing, too focused on it that he never noticed Harry working to free his hands. He let out a loud gasp when he felt warm hands on his hips, pushing him face first down onto the mattress He whimpered when he could feel his cock tugging at his rim, then his hands being pulled back behind his back. He wanted to scream but held it in when his hand wrapped around the back of his neck, holding him down and while the other held both of his hands that were starting to go numb.
"L- Let go!" Louis managed to scream, his screams getting a bit muffled by the bedsheets.
"What? Not so good now, eh?" Harry laughed, pulling out only to slam into Louis ignoring his cry of pain, "You should see how good you look with my cock up your ass, so so good." Harry let go of the back of Louis' neck, trailing his hand down his clothed back then slid his shirt up running his hand down Louis' side to his bum kneading at the skin.
"Get off!" Louis started panicking, not wanting to be held down again like the many times before. His eyes filled with tears that quickly fell down onto the sheets. The stains were nothing to Louis but a representation of how weak he really was.
"Let's finish what you started." Harry kissed Louis' lower back, then reached down to wrap his hand around his cock.
He stopped what he was doing and furrowed his brow when he felt it. He stared at the back of the boy beneath him who wasn't hard at all as he struggled to set himself free, only managing to squirm under his hold. A few seconds passed by before he heard his whimpers, still trying to get away and when Harry leaned back still inside of him, Louis lifted his head a little not saying anything.
Pity. That's all Harry felt seeing he wasn't even bothered about not being hard or at least enjoying it like he was. So without thinking and against his better judgement, he reached down and wrapped his free hand around Louis' cock. He felt him stiffening as soon as his hand was wrapped around it, then started tugging a few times just wanting to get him hard. He reached for that small bottle of oil Louis had used, spilling a bit on the bed sheets then once his fingers were covered in it, he wrapped his hand around Louis once again.
He could hear Louis' breathing getting a bit labored and soon his soft moans, feeling his cock starting to harden under his touch until he was half hard and that's when he started moving his hip. He thrusted in and out of Louis looking for that one spot, knowing the wonders it would do for the boy.
When he couldn't find it, he pulled out and pushed his fingers in, feeling around until he felt the soft little nub feeling much better at the noises Louis was making. He finally let go of him and turned him around onto his back seeing his blue eyes wide open looking back at him, he was now fully hard as Harry accommodated himself in between his legs.
"Why haven't you escaped?" Louis' voice trembled, "N- Nothing's holding you here now."
"I- I think I'll stay for tonight." Harry answered, slowly pushing into Louis again, feeling his small and soft hands holding onto his biceps in a tight grip as he gasped.
When he was flushed against him he stayed still, hiding his face in the crook of Louis' neck. He lifted his head up leaning in for a kiss, catching Louis by surprise who didn't kiss back and slightly tried to push him away until he stopped and slowly started moving his lips against his own. Harry started moving in and out of him, making sure to hit that one spot, enjoying the muffled noises Louis was making against his mouth and how tight he felt around him.
Louis wrapped his legs around Harry's waist feeling like he was in complete bliss, having never felt that way wondering if it was because of all the disgust he felt towards that man. He couldn't help but let out tiny breathy uh sounds every time he would push into him, making sure to hit something deep inside of him that made him curl his toes and crave more. When the man on top of him held onto his hips with one hand in a tight grip, and placed his other arm over his head to support himself he nearly lost it.
When Harry's thrusts only got faster, Louis wrapped his arms around his neck, bringing him closer to him already addicted to his lips and kisses wanting more the more he kissed him. Louis could feel the sweat on his forehead, letting him trail kisses down his neck, his hand reaching for his curls to pull his head away when he felt a small stinging sensation by his collarbones followed by a few more. He started feeling something deep in his lower belly that he could only refer to as pleasurable, not really knowing what was going on until the man on top of him wrapped his hand around his cock once again.
"W- What..." Louis trailed off, and seconds later his legs seemed to move on their own when they tightened around his waist and felt him cumming inside of him, just as he came all over his lower belly and Harry's, letting out a sob.
Louis froze underneath him as tears rolled down his temples, not knowing what had happened and why he had felt that way. All he knew was that he had come inside of him and what was done was done, he couldn't go back now. Louis felt him wiping his tears away, wincing when he pulled out of him and lay down next to him trying to even out his breathing, and when he finally dared himself to open his eyes he saw him covering his face with his hands.
"W- What was that...I've never..." Louis trailed off, getting a bit startled when he sat up and looked at him.
"You mean you've never...then how do you-" Harry started.
"I don't matter, as long as he enjoys it then that's enough." Louis interrupted him as he made sure to stay still to keep himself from leaking, "Its how its supposed to be, he told me. M- My, my mother told me."
"That's...you should enjoy it too." Harry insisted, "Sex should be pleasurable for both individuals."
Louis didn't say anything, wondering why he was still there when he was free to go and instead closed his eyes. Almost an hour later he was almost falling asleep when he felt someone pulling him forward by the ankles. He opened his eyes, nearly panicking until he saw him slowly pulling him closer and as soon as he was close to him, Harry grabbed his hands and pulled him up so he was straddling him.
Louis' eyes widened when he felt the man was already hard, and without saying anything slowly sank down on him until he was flushed against him. He wanted to ask him why he was still there, but instead started moving his hips in circles wanting to feel that same sensation and it wasn't until he started moving up and down that he felt it again as he quickly hardened. Louis kissed him wanting to taste him again, to erase the taste of his husband and replace it with the man's in front of him.
He kept bouncing up and down, then moving his hips in circles, moaning when Harry placed his hands on his bum pulling his cheeks apart while helping him move. The noises he was making were driving him crazy wishing they could stay like that forever, wishing the stranger fucking him was his husband instead of the other man he hated and was disgusted of.
He moaned when Harry trailed kisses down his chest then wrapped his lips around his nipple going for the other one soon after. Louis didn't know it was possible to feel pleasure the moment the handsome man's lips wrapped around his nipples. He moved faster and eagerly when he had never felt that good, when he had never enjoyed his tight grip on his hips. He loved the way the man manhandled him when it would usually make him cry every single time Howard did it.
He gasped when Harry pulled him away and watched him as Louis bounced up and down faster, letting out loud moans that filled the room along with the sound of skin against skin. There was something about the man that drove Louis crazy, something that brought him closer to the edge when he kissed him again. It didn't take them long before they were cumming together, their foreheads pressed together. And by dawn, when the sun was barely rising they found themselves tangled up in the bedsheets in each other's arms after the long night.
It had been something Louis had never experienced before, and now he wasn't sure he would be able to walk again or go back to that man at all after the way he had made him feel each of the many times he had fucked him. The many obscene things he had done to him, things that should never be mentioned in public. Things that had earned them a ticket straight to hell. Things that Louis didn't even know existed. Things that he was willing to do again, but only if it was with the man holding him tight at the moment.
Louis still felt tingly, remembering how he had turned him around on his hands and knees. He had thought he was going to fuck him again, but was left surprised and had almost screamed when he felt his tongue licking his hole. He had cummed just by that and had cried when it had been too much for him. And without really knowing him, the man had comforted him before he had made him sit on his face to do it all over again.
He didn't know up until then that people actually put their mouths on their privates. He found out when Harry had sucked him off, and Louis had done it to him too even though it had taken him a while to get used to and he wasn't as good. He was still in bed and in his hold when he heard a knock on the door. He knew it was Liam and when he got up, he pulled his pants on then limped towards the door finding Liam standing outside.
"If I were you I'll go to him now before he wakes up, he got here last night already drunk so I don't think it'll be hard to fool him. I'll take care of them, send them on their way." Liam said, then walked away never mentioning the many red and purplish marks all over Louis' neck and chest.
Louis sighed as he closed the door and when he turned around, he found him already awake and watching his every move. Louis fidgeted under his gaze as he put on his shirt as fast as he could, hoping to make it there before he woke up or else it would all go to hell.
"Thank you for...for helping me. You and your friends are free to go. Liam will make sure to give you something to eat." Louis said, then opened the door looking one more time at him, "And please don't ever come back here. If you know what's best for you...do not come back."
Louis shut the door behind him then made his way to his bedroom, making sure to lay down next to him wanting nothing but to be out of there while Harry slowly got dressed and minutes later the man named Liam was taking him back to the bedrooms used by the servants. As soon as he saw Niall and a much better looking Zayn eating breakfast, he quickly joined them hugging the life out of Zayn making sure he was okay then did the same with Niall.
"Where were you all night, mate?" Niall asked, watching Harry pushing his food around with the fork.
"You're awfully quiet." Zayn commented, "What happened to you? Did they hurt you?" Zayn asked, getting worried.
"No, I'll tell you both later." Harry said, looking around seeing Liam standing by the door watching them.
As soon as they were done eating they quickly left after the guards had found their horses again and the farther away they got from the house the more Harry kept looking back. When they finally left town he started feeling dread, not knowing if he would ever see him and his child again, that's if there was one at all.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Zayn finally asked, wincing a bit in pain. He still needed to rest but wasn't going to stay there when they had been allowed to go.
"That house belongs to Lord Clark." Harry said.
"We know, they made sure to drill it into our heads." Niall rolled his eyes, then kept looking straight ahead.
"I slept with his husband...all night long." He finally confessed, feeling their eyes on him.
"I'm sorry, you what?" Zayn asked wide eyed, then rubbed his face with his free hand, "What the hell went through your head!? You know that's a sin and illegal, bedding someone else's spouse."
"It was either that or the three of us getting killed! His husband can't procreate and threatened him to kill him if he didn't give him a chil. He just wanted a child." Harry said, trying to make him understand.
"They threatened you with that?" Zayn asked wide eyed, "God Harry, I'm so sorry...it was my fault-"
"Don't blame yourself, you and Niall would have done the same thing." Harry shrugged.
"After years of being careful not to spread your bloodline everywhere you go." Niall gave him an incredulous look," You do realize that child is the future-"
"I know! And who says I'm going to leave my child behind? I saw in Louis someone worth procreating with, and as soon as my child is born then I'll come back to take him or her back with me. I'll send someone to keep an eye on him." Harry shrugged.
"Oh as if it was that easy!" Zayn scoffed, "What about Lord Clark? What about this Louis? Are you going to take his child away? Because you can't marry him and that child will be born out of wedlock and you know what that means." Zayn said in a hushed tone so no one would hear him.
"I could care less about Louis and what happens to him after, all I want is my child and I'm going to get it." Harry said in a determined tone, not letting the others talk anymore.
They continued on their way home until they made it there completely exhausted. As soon as Harry had taken a bath he finally got to sleep in his own bed unable to stop thinking about him and their long night. He couldn't help but wrap his hand around his cock, imagining himself buried deep inside of Louis just like he had been that long night. He came all over himself a few minutes later and groaned as he got up to clean himself up. He finally fell asleep almost at dawn, not once unable to stop thinking about what he had done.
#Louis Tomlinson#LouisTomlinson#Harry Styles#HarryStyles#Larry Stylinson#LarryStylinson#Bottom!Louis#Top!Harry#Mpreg#Pregnant!Louis#New Fic
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