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kstewdeux · 3 years ago

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Halloween Bang Event 2021 | Artwork by @thornedraven here!

@inu-spiration & @thornedraven

Inspired by El almohadón de pluma by Horacio Quiroga

Cross Posted: FFN | Ao3

Even though she’d spent the last three years pining over him and fantasizing about their reunion, Kagome never expected Inuyasha to change his attitude towards her. People don’t really change. As deeply as he loved her, he was still distant and reserved. Still resorted to insults to cover up what he considered weak emotions like love and fear. But he was still gentle with her and found ways to express his love in unconventional ways.

In short, it was very fortunate she didn’t expect him to suddenly become a romantic. That being said, while not expecting him to become lovey dovey, Kagome couldn’t help but shower him with physical acts of affection and love. As uncomfortable as he had been with the experience at first, he now sought it out whenever he felt stressed and now, a year in, he occasionally was the one to initiate cuddle time.

For his part, even though he was god awful at showing it, he loved her as deeply as any one man could love another. Despite never saying those three little words out loud, he hoped she knew his world revolved around her and thankfully she did.

For slightly over a year now, the pair had lived in the village that was now home – surrounded by their family and their friends. Even though her expectations were non-existent, there were times when she watched the monk and the slayer with a hint of jealousy. Their auras shone brightly. There was no hesitation when Miroku kissed Sango or held her hand or generally was overly affectionate. True, she personally would’ve found Inuyasha being so consistently handsy incredibly annoying…

It still would be nice if he occasionally did things like that and didn’t keep her at arm’s length around other people – however inappropriate it might seem in the court of public opinion. It would also be nice if he stopped picking fights and insulting her. Less stressful for sure. There had been a few times when she tried to initiate a very subdued version of what she saw her friends doing but Inuyasha’s confused and slightly irritated look always stopped her from completing whatever act she had been considering.

That wasn’t to say that he didn’t do things that made her happy. Lack of physical affection aside, he was constantly showering her with practical gifts and providing whatever she needed. Cloth. A futon. Hair combs. Pretty bowls and chopsticks. Blankets. The freshest fruits and vegetables. Their small hut was cozy and warm and unusually well decorated for the standards of the time.

There were also signs that Inuyasha was thinking about their future together. Not that he ever said such a thing directly but recently he’d been trying to learn wood carving and the very first thing he’d made was a very rough draft version of a rattle to give to the slayer. When he showed it to his wife for her approval, he sheepishly muttered something about getting better at it so, if they ever had a brat, theirs would be nicer.

Based on the signals she was being given, Kagome made the innocent mistake of asking Inuyasha whether he wanted to try having a baby and he’d immediately spluttered out a contradictory ‘why the hell would we do it on purpose?’ The conversation turned argument progressed much in the same fashion with Inuyasha refusing to admit outright that he wanted children and insisting all he meant was that just in case there was an ‘accident’ he’d be prepared for it. After the slayer gave birth a few weeks later though, she caught him watching Miroku and Sango out of the corner of his eye – clearly taking mental notes.

Kagome came to the rational conclusion, given his weird behavior, that she had to be pregnant but weeks went by and mother nature made it clear she wasn’t. That wasn’t to say something wasn’t off. These past few weeks she’d been utterly exhausted to the point where she could barely keep her eyes open and was constantly dozing off. Even though exercise and traveling had been scarce, even though she was well fed, she’d been losing weight. While Inuyasha hadn’t said anything, he was hovering much more than usual and had started doing what she’d secretly wished he’d done all along.

He started being affectionate in public.

There wasn’t a time when he wasn’t holding her hand or giving her cheek a kiss or letting her nap in his arms in the boughs of the sacred tree. He stopped picking fights too which was a most welcome change and had taken to handling the cooking. The cleaning. He tended to the garden. He prepared their shopping list and delivered it to Sango himself. These tasks and more were completed quietly and efficiently. All without him being prompted or being asked to complete them. This sudden helpfulness was a massive relief to his wife who was struggling to keep her eyelids from drooping much less engage in housewifery.

If Kagome hadn’t been so exhausted, she probably would’ve realized Inuyasha’s behavior was odd and that it was happening because he was terrified. But it simply never occurred to a woman who once was able to read him like a book. Those worried little glances and his sudden neediness flying far below her emotional radar.

Something was wrong with her.

He didn’t know what. He didn’t know why. She didn’t smell ill but it wasn’t normal for her or any human to act like she was. It was always, always a bad sign to lose weight without explanation. No one should spend their days too exhausted to move. Even someone as inherently clumsy as she had always been never stumbled that much. The fact that she didn’t realize he was worried was almost beyond belief but then again, every emotion she showed was muted anymore. She was struggling. She was hurt. And he cursed himself for being too stupid to figure out what was happening to her. But no one else seemed worried about these blaring warning signs when he mentioned them, however, so he learned to keep his concerns to himself.

Well, that was until everyone got pretty freaking worried when the visions started and being vindicated wasn’t as sweet as Inuyasha hoped it would be. Kagome started hearing voices, seeing demons that weren’t there, feeling auras that weren’t there and generally seemed out of it at all times. Two months after the initial weight loss began and on top of the heaping piles of crazy, she looked like her skin was stretched taut over her bones.

Inuyasha had gotten so terrified of losing her he’d even had Myoga and Rin send out a request for Sesshomaru to be on standby…

Just in case the worst came to pass.

One day Kagome couldn’t get out of bed and simply spent the day weeping – her mind clouded by hallucinations to the point where she very nearly purified her husband by mistake. As she lay there screaming and thrashing, Inuyasha cupped her face in his hands and tried his damnedest to talk her down. Whispering those three little words he never said out loud. Petting her hair and pressing kisses against her temple.

“I promise its just me ‘Gome. I p-promise. No one else is here and even...even if someone was here to h-hurt you I wouldn’t let them, okay? I’d protect you,” he pleaded hoarsely - his entire body trembling from the effort of holding back sobs, “I would. I...I always will so...so come back to me. Stay. Please stay.”

Thankfully, even with his own mind clouded as it was, he felt the tingle from her aura seconds before her body instinctively released a protective blast. While the left side of his body got singed and his hands suffered mild burns, he’d managed to avoid a fatal injury. Heartbroken and sizzling, Inuyasha collapsed to his knees and watched with utter devastation as his wife continued convulsing - screaming and crying her life away.

The worst part, the very worst part, was that there was nothing he could do. Absolutely nothing. Going near her would mean death for him but allowing this mental decline to continue could very well mean death for her. So he tried talking to her. Softly. Gently. With tears in his eyes and his heart in his throat.

There was a moment of relief when Kagome eventually calmed to the point of mild clarity but then, when he rushed to hold her in his arms, she’d realized what she’d done to him and the hysterics began anew. In the following hours that felt like an eternity, Inuyasha slowly managed to calm her down using sweetness he wasn’t aware he was capable of showing but when she finally fell asleep curled up in his arms, he couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of stomach.

The morning sun exposed a sobbing half-demon cradling the woman who made his wife worth living in his arms as he rocked back and forth. A woman who had overcome so much but who simply didn’t make it through that last hellish night. As much as Inuyasha wanted to say her death was sudden or even unexpected, it horrifically wasn’t. Life had steadily been draining out of her for months now. As that final night progressed, there had been nothing he could do to speed up her slowing pulse. Nothing he could do to warm her cooling skin. So he held her tightly as she went and whispered his love to try to ease her suffering - doing his best to hold the tears at bay until he was certain she wouldn’t be able to notice.

Protecting her until the end…

And then she was gone.

Silently, he had cursed himself for being the reason she died. There had to be something he missed. Something he had done or should have done or maybe he was cursed. Everyone he ever loved seemed to die tragically young and under suspicious circumstances. But there was no point trying to go over what he could have done differently.

She was gone.

Yes, Sesshomaru could revive her but the chances of that bastard doing anything remotely merciful for the half-brother he despised were slim to none.

She was gone. Somewhere he could not follow.

A few days later, word arrived that Sesshomaru was refusing to come back for anything other than to collect Rin and take her away from the clearly contaminated village. While Inuyasha went to beg for his brother to reconsider his refusal, Miroku and Kaede began to inspect the body and prepare it for burial.

It was upon the washing of the body that something previously missed was revealed.

“These…these are bite marks,” the monk breathed in mild horror as he ran his finger over the series of bumps and scars littering Kagome’s back, “Where on earth would she have gotten these?”

Kaede paled as she inspected the wounds before shaking her head in denial.

“Inuyasha would surely have noticed something of this nature, no?” the old miko asked shakily, “Surely he would have.”

“He mentioned that her scent shifted a few months ago but…but that it was not from illness,” Miroku offered as he turned a sickly shade of green, “I don’t understand…”

Quickly getting to her feet, Kaede left the hut without another word while the monk’s mind raced to find an acceptable answer to this horrifying mystery. Inuyasha should have noticed these markings on his wife’s skin. Should’ve questioned them or…at a minimum, smelled the blood, smelled something other than just a general indication that Kagome had been unwell. It made no…

“Monk come quickly,” Kaede suddenly ordered as she reappeared in the doorway and stricken violet eyes whipped in her direction, “And grab ye’s wife. I imagine we shall need her assistance in this matter.”

Swallowing down bile, Miroku nodded once and stiffly got to his feet. A moment later Kaede was ushering them both to the hut where Kagome had expired. A wizened finger pointed to the quite average futon.

It took longer than it should have for the monk to understand what was being implied but Sango’s gasp and subsequent gag made up for his sluggishness.

“You don’t think…”

“Aye,” Kaede sighed shakily before nodding to the innocent looking bedding, “It will need to be moved. And burned.”

“Inuyasha would have noticed,” Sango argued weakly, ��He should have noticed if…if…”

Mind catching half of what was being said, Miroku wearily and drunkenly made his way towards the futon to prepare it to be moved onto the funeral pyre the villagers were preparing. The voices behind him sounded static to the point that he could barely focus on the task at hand. A few strange thoughts crossed his mind as he removed the various blankets and tried to lift the mattress beneath. First, the futon itself seemed quite firm and thick. Second, speculating how much Inuyasha must have paid for a futon this luxurious. And third, wishing Inuyasha was there to assist as the futon itself was monstrously heavy. Heavy or not, it could be moved with some difficulty but the second his hand moved to roll the futon into a more manageable size, there was an audible pop that had the voices mumbling behind him go silent. Within seconds, the underside of the futon began leaking a copious crimson fluid that had the monk scrambling back and his mind clearing instantly.

“That’s not possible,” Miroku breathed in mild horror as the futon hit the floor with an audible squelch, “Inuyasha would have noticed. He would have.”

“Ye would think so,” Kaede agreed breathlessly – the deep lines etched into her face betraying her own terror in the situation as she moved closer, “Fetch me a knife. Let us see what was inside.”

What remained was the stuff horror movies were made of. As it turned out, there were such things as demonic ticks and their continued existence was courtesy of their ability to produce no aura. What was left of the gelatinous living ball had been split wide open – a good portion of the contents still pooled in the middle which served as a bowl - while the almost invisible little mouth and proportionately tiny spindly legs continued to flex like it was trying to escape.

The feather filled futon had been a gift from a relatively nearby village, which was completely lacking in any malicious intent but which hadn’t exactly been forthcoming in why this luxury was being given so freely. A girl had died upon it a year prior without reason and so no one in the village had wanted it in their home. Kept in a storage shed, for no one had the heart to discard such a luxurious item, the scent of death faded.

The scent that remained, however, was simply one Inuyasha assumed was just the aroma of the damn thing. His mind simply not making a connection a sudden shift in scent would’ve ushered in. Confusing how unwell Kagome smelled and the scent that lingered on their bed for being one and the same, Inuyasha missed the warning signs as his wife was slowly and meticulously drained night after night. Sleeping on the futon had naturally stunted the tick’s growth but it also aided the same. That final fateful day when Kagome was unable to move the tick finished what it started.

Such avian parasites, tiny in their usual habitat, can in the right circumstances grow to colossal size. Human blood is particularly nourishing to them and it isn’t uncommon for them to lurk inside of feathered futons.

#happy halloween #Inuyasha Halloween bang #halloween 2021 #post canon inuyasha #inuyasha #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #inukag #kagome #kstewdeux #writer artist collaboration #inukag fanfic #inuyasha fanfiction

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let-it-raines · 6 years ago

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Second in Command (32/35)

Summary: Life as the “spare to the heir” isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be when you’re the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don’t know what really happens behind closed doors.

Rating: Mature

A\N: Hey look, I changed the title from epilogue to just being a chapter count. I was keeping it that way for consistency, but, you know, I felt ridiculous once we got to about part five of this so called epilogue. lol. Anyways, here’s a nice, long chapter full of all kinds of goodies (it’s another Christmas chapter, you say?) that I enjoyed writing. I hope you enjoy reading!

Out of curiosity (and maybe a little bit of a call for inspiration), what would you guys like to see out of their future since the last three chapters will be skipping around a bit?

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 |

Sequel Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Tag list: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @kristi555 @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @artistic-writer @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @alys07 @andiirivera @emmas-storybook @superchocovian @in-spirational @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @shireness-says @jonirobinson64

The tree in their living room is Andy’s new favorite thing. He likes the lights, the way the multiple colors glisten off of each other and off of the baubles and ornaments that adorn the lush green branches that fill the room with the fresh scent of pine. They’ve got a Christmas tree in nearly every room of their house, at least downstairs, and if she had decorated more than just this one, she would have officially felt crazy. They had other people decorate since they had to host some diplomatic officials from Denmark last week, and Brennan wanted things to be, in his words, appropriately festive.

She’s got a kid who isn’t even three months old. She doesn’t need to be “appropriately festive” and hosting dinners in her home when there are several places they could host them that wouldn’t have her pulling her hair out every time a throw pillow got out of place.

Okay, so Killian is the one who got stressed about the throw pillows everywhere, but she pretty much felt stressed all of the time while people were moving trees in and furniture out, completely changing her house from what she’s accustomed to. Well, she wasn’t stressed all of the time. Just most of it. She likes the decorations, but she also knows that they’re going to have to go through all of this again when the holidays are over and it’s time to put the decorations and trimmings away until next year.

Maybe there won’t have to be as many decorations and maybe she won’t feel the need to pull her hair out as someone knocks over her favorite framed portrait of she, Killian, and Andy that was hanging on the living room wall above the lounge chairs where a Christmas tree is now resting.

And if she’s not pulling her hair out, Andy is definitely going to. He’s very much into grabbing her hair or her earrings whenever she’s holding him, and her hair has been permanently in a braid or bun for…awhile. She did have it blown out last week, though, letting Abigail mess with it when she brought the kids over for lunch, and it was kind of nice to walk around with bouncy curls and shiny hair that’s not been mangled by a kid. Not that she really minds wearing her hair up. She usually does that anyways. Andy has just changed a lot of things about how she and Killian operate in their day to day life.

Right now, though, he’s lying on his playmat on the floor doing his tummy time with toys hanging above him while she lays on the floor with him. He can lift his head but only for a little while, and when he does, he’s always looking at the tree or at her. Maybe she needs to take him around the house so he can look at all of the trees in the house so he’ll get that gummy smile on his face that he gets whenever she or Killian talk to him.

It may be the cutest thing that she’s ever seen in her entire life.

She may be biased.

Maybe she just needs Killian to get home from work so that she has another adult to talk to today, especially since Abigail and Liam are working today hosting some kind of Christmas party in the gardens just outside her front door. Emma thought about going, but honestly, there’s far too many kids who will swarm around she and Andy for her to be comfortable with walking out to the gardens. Besides, how could a nice party like that with all of its food and goodies be better than lying on the floor of her house with a baby who has finally come around to liking spending time on his stomach…for a little while.

The fact that he’s not wailing right now is a miracle.

A Christmas miracle maybe.

It’s not even Christmas. It’s not even Christmas Eve, but it kind of feels like this has been the longest holiday season in the history of all of the holiday seasons she’s experienced. It’s definitely the kid. This time last year she wasn’t even pregnant, so it’s weird that she has Andy right here with her now.

She got pregnant sometime around this week last year, which is super weird to think about, but also kind of fascinating.

Like clockwork, he starts wailing the moment he’s on his mat for more than ten minutes (she knew that it was too good to be true for him to like it this much), and even though she hates it, she’s going to let him suffer for one more minute before she lets him up and sits with him while she watches TV and does some last minute Christmas shopping. She’s got all of Killian’s presents and her parents’ presents bought and wrapped under the tree, but it’s difficult to think of gag gifts for the entire family. She already knows she’s going to get several things about being a mom or pregnancy or talking about her kid too much (Killian is going to get something like that too), and she wishes that everyone else had something as easy to pick on in gift form.

Though she did find Liam a sticker for his car that cautions other drivers that a student driver is behind the wheel because of him backing into a tree last month. It’s not her best work, but she’s desperate. She has no idea how Killian has done this for his entire life, especially when he used to despise his family most of the time. Actually, that’s probably what helped him out.

If she wouldn’t actually insult Allison, she’d get her something about being an overbearing mother-in-law ever since Andy was born, but Emma doesn’t have a death wish, so that’s definitely not happening.

Maybe.

She might get really and truly desperate. She definitely shouldn’t get Allison something rude.

But she still thinks about it.

“Alright, baby,” she sighs, getting up from the floor and picking Andy up with her and holding him against her chest while she walks around the room in an attempt to get him to stop crying. It’s miserable when he’s miserable, and she’s honestly not sure if it upsets her because he’s upset or because his cries are piercing. All of the kids at the party hundreds of feet away can probably hear him. “See, we’re not doing it anymore today. We’re all finished, I promise. We’re just going to chill out, okay?”

She rubs her hand up and down his back in as soothing of a motion as she can, and his cries do eventually quiet, especially as she moves him to stand outside for a minute when Indy needs to go to the bathroom. It’s not too cold, the sun shining down on them, but he’s not dressed for staying outside so she quickly hurries Indy inside and moves back to the living room to turn the television onto something with bright colors and noises that he’ll like.

It’s days like this that make her ready to go back to work, but she’s not going to complain about getting this much time off, not when she knows how rare it is for a lot of moms back home...not that America has been her home recently, but sometimes it’s hard for her to shake it off that she’s technically British. And just because her body feels less like it’s been run over by a tank than it did last week, doesn’t mean that having to do too much after not sleeping is a great idea.

Plus, nursing is hard, and she and Andy have to take a nap every afternoon just for her to make it to eight o’clock at night.

It’s better when Killian’s around or when her mom comes over for a few hours, but they’ve both had to work every day this week before taking off for the holidays. She gets Killian and Andy all to herself tomorrow though, and she’s excited. She’s kind of thinking that she’ll get Killian to help her bake some goodies to give out to their staff to go along with their gifts. She’s gotten better at baking, can make really good pies, but Killian definitely has the better touch and actually knows how to make things look much nicer than she does.

Sometimes she swears that he could make those food videos online that she spends so much time watching, but she just knows that’s never going to happen.

The front door beeps as it opens, and she gets up from the couch, bringing Andy with her as she makes her way over to greet Killian before he goes searching for them in the house. She sees him first as he’s struggling to take his tie off, finally getting it only after strands of hair fall down on forehead with the effort. He must have really hated wearing that tie today. Then again, when does he ever like wearing one?

“Hey.”

He looks over toward her voice, his lips pressing together until they part and he smiles with his entire face, teeth on display and lines bunching up around his eyes.

“Hello, my loves,” he sighs, and her stomach does a little twitch at how happy he is to see them as he walks toward them, bending down to kiss her, his freshly trimmed scruff tickling her, before he brushes his lips over Andy’s head. “Have we been good today, Andy boy?”

“Eh,” she moans, handing him over to Killian as Andy is pretty much gob smacked to see his dad, “he’s been fine. Some good moments. Some bad. We just had a fit a few minutes ago so I’m hoping that things will be fine now.” “Ah,” Killian sighs, looking down at Andy and adjusting him in his arms before he looks back at her. “What about you? I’m sorry that I’ve barely been able to answer my phone.”

“Babe, it’s fine. We have lives outside of each other, and as much as I miss having an adult to talk to when everyone is busy, I like having time by myself even with my new practically permanent attachment.”

It’s true. Sometimes she craves the days of always being around other people, like she did a bit today, but she really does love getting to have time with just she and Andy. He doesn’t judge her if she sits on the couch and pigs out all day or talks to the television to tell characters how idiotic they’re being.

“I know. So good day?”

She nods. “Good day.”

-/-

“Do you grab the gray hat?”

“It’s in the bag.”

“What about the socks?”

“I’ve got several pairs in the bag.”

“His bear thing for when it’s cold?”

“The bag, darling.”

“Okay, but what about – ”

“Emma,” Killian sighs, walking over to her and cupping her cheeks with his hands while he looks down at her with his lips pressed into a thin line, “I have every single thing that we wrote down on the list plus more. And if we forget something, since I know that’s going to be your next question, we’ll simply go out and buy it.”

“I know, I know. I just…I just,” she mumbles, blinking her eyes a bit, “I’m terrified that we’re going to forget something vital. I mean, we’re going to be away from home for days. What if I forget food or something?”

He quirks an eyebrow, and she knows that she’s said something stupid even before he points it out. “Unless you can somehow manage to leave your breasts behind, I think we’ll be fine.”

“You know what I meant.”

He applies a little more pressure to her cheeks before he leans down and presses his lips against her forehead. She closes her eyes, savoring how it feels just to be close to him like this. “It’s going to be fine. We’re going to have a nice holiday full of good food and good company with lots of people who will want to love up on Andy. He will not be in want for anything.”

“Sometimes I really hate that you’re a rational person.”

“Aye,” he agrees, swiping under her eyes, “and sometimes I really hate how you make split decisions with your gut, but we usually balance each other out. Of course, right now you’re over planning to the extreme.”

“Listen, bud, you’re the one who’s been talking about this being his first Christmas and all that jazz, and I know for a fact that you over plan all of the time. I’m not being that bad.”

“You’re being pretty bad.”

“Yeah, okay, but when we get there with an entire train car full of things and you’ve forgotten your briefs, don’t come crying to me.”

“Oh, darling,” he croons, waggling his brows while he flashes her a cheeky grin, “I won’t mind and neither should you. It’ll give you easier access and all. There won’t be any almost disasters like last year when my mum almost caught us in one of the dens.”

Her cheeks heat just thinking of that, and she can do nothing more than shake her head back and forth. He’s so dumb sometimes, but he’s got her laughing when she’s been having this irrational (or maybe totally rational) fear of forgetting something while traveling with Andy for the first time.

“That one was totally your fault,” she laughs, stepping closer to him and wrapping her arms around his waist, simply wanting to hold him for a moment or two.

“It was,” he quietly admits, moving his arms to rest around her waist, hands falling to her ass. “You okay?”

She nods against his chest before she brushes her lips over his collarbone. “Fine. I’m a little tired, maybe a little bit stressed, and I’d feel better if we were already all settled in at Sandringham.”

“Soon,” he promises. “Soon.”

And it is soon. Andy miraculously sleeps throughout the entire train ride, the constant motion probably helping when she was convinced that it was going to keep him up and upset him with the rocking. He does wake up when they’re trying to settle inside, and it pretty much takes ten people to do the work she and Killian did to get everything on the train. But soon they’re swept up in greeting family, chatter and laughter filling one of the sitting rooms as they all fill up on tea and coffee while nearly every person comes over to her and asks if they can have Andy for a little while. She’s definitely okay letting other people have him while she’s in the same room. She can keep an eye on him while also not having to worry about anything but getting to drink her coffee and talk to Abigail and Rebecca while Brennan is holding Andy while he’s sitting on a sofa with Allison on the other side of the room.

Everything is a bit chaotic, but she kind of likes it that way right now. She likes the way she and Abigail can’t get through a conversation without laughing, Rebecca looking at them like they’re crazy, and she likes the way that she can hear Killian and Liam laughing even though they’re nowhere near them right now. She’s got this big crazy family who she loves despite how they treated her when they first met, and she goes to bed that night with her face aching from the smile that’s been there all day.

Christmas Eve is the same, even if the schedule is a bit more rigid than any other day. She’s got a long list of all of the ridiculous things and traditions that come with being in this family, but the amount of outfit changes she goes through on this day where they don’t even leave the house has got to be one of the most ridiculous. It’s nice that she can stay in jeans and a sweater for the first part of the day as they eat a late breakfast and head outside for the football match. She’s not playing this year, not quite feeling up to getting absolutely roughed up like what happens every year.

Seriously. Killian and Liam do not play nicely. She honestly thinks it might be worse since they’ve become close, but she was never exactly here to watch beforehand.

“Is Mummy going to win?”

“Maybe,” she shrugs, adjusting Andy in her lap as she talks to Alex and keeps Lizzie between her calves. She’s pretty much being trampled by kids, but she doesn’t mind since she’s the one who is choosing to sit today out because she’s tired. “Or maybe your daddy will win. They’re on different teams this year.” “Mummy is with Killian,” Lizzie tells her, leaning back until her head is resting right at Andy’s socked feet.

“Exactly.”

“And we’re with you.”

“Yep,” she laughs, reaching down to tug a little at Lizzie’s hair while Alex yells as Liam almost scores a goal, “you guys are on my team.”

Liam’s team wins, and she already knows that Killian is going to be in an absolute mood. He’ll go on and on about how Liam will have bragging rights for the entire year, and she’ll have to feign sympathy. Sure enough, Killian come jogging up to her afterward, the hair on his forehead sticking up in at least ten different directions while sweat beads at his temples.

“You know, I probably lost because you didn’t play this year.”

“Please,” she laughs, holding her hand up so he can help her rise from the ground, Andy secure in her arm, “youdefinitely lost because I didn’t play this year.” Killian scoffs, rolls his eyes a bit even, before his attention falls to Andy who is reaching his hands out for his dad. “You want to go see daddy, baby?” she coos, hanging him over to Killian. “He probably needs some comforting after his tough loss.”

“You’re so comforting.” “I know,” she promises, pressing up on her toes to brush her lips over his cheek. “Maybe next year you’ll win.”

“Maybe, but now I’ll have to deal with Liam bragging for an entire year.”

Yeah, she knew that’s exactly what he was going to say. It’s almost scary how well they know each other.

Or maybe she simply knows that her husband hates losing to his brother. If she had a sibling, she’d probably be the same way. Hell, she’s that way with Killian whenever they compete against each other when out at an engagement.

She’s only slightly sure that their relationship is normal.

“Happy Christmas,” Killian whispers into her skin the next morning, the way his lips are brushing against the nape of her neck making a shiver run down her spine and reach her toes.

“Mmm,” she hums, twisting over on the mattress so that her nose rubs against Killian’s and his eyes light up even in the darkness of the room. How is that even possible? “Merry Christmas.”

“It’s early,” he murmurs before his lips find hers, their mouths coming together in a soft and comforting kiss that seems to go on forever in the quietness of their room. She’d let it go on forever, let their lips constantly stay moving, constantly stay connected, but she does have to breathe at some point. That might be overrated as the happiness that seems to be an almost unceasing lately settles in her chest.

“So you say,” she says breathlessly, rubbing her nose into his cheek and allowing herself to find comfort in the way that their lips brush over each other every time one of them speak. “Why are we up?”

“Because it’s our first Christmas with our little love, and I figured you would want some private time with him to make some of our own traditions.”

She nods her head, Killian’s scruff brushing against her skin before she quickly and sweetly glides her lips of Killian’s again, giving him a long, deep kiss to thank him for knowing what she wants nearly every time, to thank him for helping to give her this family.

“So you want to go wake up the sleeping bear?”

“Aye.”

She rises from the bed, stretching her limbs out before adjusting the top of her pajamas, pulling her shirt up from where it had fallen as she slept, and even though she knows that she should get ready before they go to church this morning, all she really wants is to spend time with her baby. He’s awake in his bassinet when she finds him, his small body clothed in pajamas with cutely drawn snowmen covering them.

“Hi, sweetie,” she sighs, reaching down and picking him up when he reaches up for her, the smile on his face as bright when he recognizes him. “It’s Christmas, Andy. Yeah, we’ve got lots to do today, but mommy and daddy want to spend time with you after we’ve got you all changed.”

He’s surprisingly easy this morning, and she knows that it has nothing to do with the holiday. He has no idea that today is supposed to be something special. To him he’s simply in a new environment with different decorations than at home, and really, spending the morning opening presents for him and telling stories is more for she and Killian than for him. He won’t remember any of this, won’t remember how Killian practically packed an entire new library of books for him, won’t remember how she tells him the story about how on Christmas last year she and Killian decided that they wanted to expand their family so they could have him, and he won’t remember the way that the three of them sit on the ground next to a tree with all of their faces cast in different colored lights while he laughs in fascination over Emma sticking her tongue out only to make it disappear, making him scream out in giggles.

She’ll remember though.

She’ll remember it all, and with the way Killian is looking at her, fondness obvious in his gaze as his eyes never stray from his face, she knows that he will too. She also knows that she’ll remember the way something flutters inside of her while blush rises on her cheeks as she’s reminded once again just how loved she is now.

Just how loved she’ll always be.

-/-

There’s a line of dresses in front of her ordered by color and size. Some of them are seem simple, just plain chiffon dresses, while others sparkle and shine under the light of her bedroom. She’s been married to Killian for over two and a half years, has been having to wear these gowns for even longer than that, but she’ll still never quite get used to how people send her dresses whenever she has an event to go to.

She wore jeans to work pretty much every day of her life, and she definitely misses that sometimes.

But she’s apparently being overwhelmed with gowns right now since it’s her first official event back from maternity leave even though she’s not really going back to work until sometime in the spring. She’s done a few things here and there, but most of them have been family events like Christmas two weeks ago or Andy’s Christening back in November. So she hasn’t disappeared like most people assume (seriously, she stumbled across an article the other day saying her pregnancy was fake and that’s why she didn’t make a public appearance with Andy at the hospital and it’s how she managed to look so good at the Christening of her fake baby…this is what she gets for using Ruby’s snapchat and scrolling through the stories, but she does appreciate the fact that they thought she looked nice), but apparently it’s become some kind of big deal for her to show up in public.

She’s kind of thinking that people are just pissed that no one has managed to get any paparazzi pictures of Andy outside of his Christening. And they only released the one picture of him when he’s sitting with her, so she and her son are just mystery human beings, she guesses. But she doesn’t have any regrets. This is right for them, and she wouldn’t change anything.

She’s feeling a little overwhelmed by the dress selection in front of her, but she doesn’t have any regrets.

“What should Momma wear?” she asks Andy who’s on his playmat doing his tummy time. He actually likes it today, so she’s super thankful for that. He’s growing a lot, and what he likes and hates are definitely already changing. “Do you know, baby? I bet you’d like the ones that have flowers on them so you can pull at them, which probably means those are not the ones.”

“Are you talking to yourself, darling?”

She turns her head to the door of the bedroom where Killian’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face that makes her stomach twist. But in a good way. She didn’t even hear him come upstairs.

“I’m talking to sir Andrew over there. I like to think that he talks back.”

Killian barks out a laugh before walking toward her and coming to stand behind her, immediately wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on the top of her head. “One day he will, and his first word will be couture.”

“Do you practice that with him?”

Killian hums behind her, and she can feel the vibrations of it all the way down to her toes. Now would be a really good time for Andy to want to take a nap, and then for she and Killian to turn their phones off and have some private time. “I practice the words mummy and mama with him, mostly because I love you so damn much and talk about you all of the time.”

She scoffs before twisting in Killian’s arms and putting her hands on his chest, making him move a little bit as she studies his features, trying to figure out whatever the hell it is he’s trying to woo her with. “Did you do something?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. You’re a very sweet man, so it’s not out of the blue for you to try to butter me up with all of your pretty words, but I know for a fact that you would sell your limbs for Andy to say your name first. So why are you lying?”

“I’m not lying, darling. Andy and I really do talk about you all of the time. You’re our favorite subject.” She looks over to Andy, making sure he’s still where he’s supposed to be and not having some kind of meltdown, and she wishes she could somehow figure out what Killian is up to. It has to be something. “But I do have a little favor to ask of you.” “There it is,” she laughs, backing up from him only for Killian to slide his hands into the back pocket of her jeans and pull her back to him. “What ever could you need from me?”

He dips his head down and quickly slants his lips over his in the way that takes her breath away every time. And he knows that too. The man is a damn good kisser, and if she wasn’t so curious as to what he wants, she’d turn to, like, human jelly right then and there.

Now that would be something else.

“Goodness gracious, babe, just tell me.”

“Well, I was thinking.”

“That always goes so well.” “That joke never gets funnier, love.” “I think that it does.” “Anyways, I was thinking about all of these beautiful gowns that arrived for you today and how you’ve agreed to be my date for the prom.” “It is not the prom. We’re not teenagers in America.” “Yes, but I feel like I’m a teenager in love when I’m with you.”

“I will literally say yes to whatever you’re about to ask if you promise to never be that cheesy again.” “I can’t make that promise.” She slaps his chest and shakes her head, her gaze traveling between Killian and Andy. “Get on with it then.”

“So I’m thinking after we go to the BAFTAs,” Killian continues, palming her ass the slightest bit, “that instead of coming home to our lovable little munchkin, you and I go to a hotel. Or we can come here. But the point is, we don’t have a baby to come home to.” “What are you planning on doing with him?”

He’s not going to make the kid disappear or something far more nefarious, so she doesn’t even know why she asks.

“I’m planning on him staying with your parents for the night. They have a nursery for this purpose, love. And we just installed the new security system and fence for them.”

“You want me to leave him for an entire night?” He nods his head up and down at the same time that she feels tears forming in her eyes. Nope. She’s not going to cry. She’s not. Leaving him for an entire night doesn’t terrify her or anything.

It terrifies her a lot.

“Darling, it’ll be fine. It’s just a night, and if you want to wake up before the sun rises to go pick him up, we can. I will miss him just as much as you do, but we’ve got to graduate from the ‘just a few hours’ thing we’ve been doing. Plus, we can have a night together without a baby monitor sitting next to the bed.” “So you want to leave him so we can have this fancy date and then have sex? Because we can have this fancy date, come home and check on him, and then have sex.”

“Aye,” Killian laughs, backing them up to the bench in front of the bed and sitting down, pulling her down on top of him with a squeal, “we could, but I’m not even saying we have to have sex. You know as well as I do that neither of us are fans of planned sex, so that’s not what I’m suggesting. I’m just suggesting one night, just you and me, no baby. I don’t care what we do. We can sit in our pajamas and eat room service until we’re so bloated we can’t move all while talking about how we love the rolls on Andy’s arms. Maybe we immediately get there, strip out of our clothes, and make love like we did when we had just gotten together and your parents went out for the night and left us alone to have the entire apartment together. Or maybe,” Killian sighs, placing a kiss on both of her cheeks that makes her smile, “we simply get a full night of uninterrupted sleep.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Which one?” “All of them.”

“So you’ll consider letting me take you fifteen minutes away from him for less than twelve hours?”

She both wants to an doesn’t want to all at the same time. She knows that she should, that he’ll be fine without her, and she really does think that the night will be nice. They deserve to just be them every now and then. “Well, when you put it like that, I’d be ridiculous to say no.”

“Good,” Killian sighs, kissing her again before moving her off of his lap so he can pick Andy up from the floor and blow a raspberry on his stomach that makes Andy laugh like Killian’s just done the most hysterical thing in the world. “Did you hear that, little lad? Mummy has agreed to go on a date with daddy, and you’re going to spend the night with Mimi and Papa. Yeah, you are.”

“I could still change my mind.” “I expect that,” Killian admits, walking over to her with Andy in his arms. She reaches over and moves his hair off of his forehead. At the rate it’s growing, they’re going to have to get it cut before he’s even one unless it all starts to fall off like she’s read about, and she’s not ready to think about that. She’s just now thinking about spending the night away from him. “You should wear the emerald dress, darling. It’ll bring out your eyes, and I know you’ll look beautiful in it.” “How can you even see what it looks like from here?”

He shrugs as much as he can with Andy on him. “I looked through them when they first arrived.”

“Why?”

“I was curious, and I knew that you would spend far too long deciding even with the help of your assistant in training.”

She walks toward the rack of clothes and thumbs through them until she gets to the emerald dress Killian was talking about. It’s beautiful, they all are, but this one seems light and airy, like it will flow as she walks. It also looks like it’s going to dip down her entire chest and require some major taping so she doesn’t flash everyone with her breasts. She’s not even sure if she can wear this.

She kind of wants to wear this.

“You realize this shows my entire chest, right?”

“Aye, that’s why I like it.” “Such a man.”

“Never claimed to be otherwise, and you know that I have some very specific feelings about your breasts.”

She does end up picking the emerald dress and getting it altered. She really liked that way that it dipped down, and if she could get away with it without Brennan and Allison having a heart attack, she’d wear it just like that. Instead she gets some lace added to it, and as she’s zipped up into it the evening of the BAFTAs, she’s happy with the way it turned out.

For someone who has been walking around the house in leggings and a sweater with her hair falling out of a messy bun, she’s kind of excited to be this dressed up. She’s not a fan of the shoes she’s got to spend all night in, but for the first time since Andy was born, she feels a bit…she doesn’t really know how she feels. She feels put together, like she’s about to go out and have a nice night with her husband and not have to come home and deal with someone else’s bodily functions, which is exactly what she’s doing. She thought about backing out of Andy spending the night with her parents several times in the last few days, but she always convinced herself not to.

It was really hard.

She’s super obsessed with her child no matter how many days he makes her want to pull out her hair, and she doesn’t see that obsession tampering. She just doesn’t.

So tonight will be good. It’s a baby step, and she’s going to go on a date with Killian, even if her preferred date with Killian is sitting in their bed in comfortable clothes eating good food and having the television playing in the background all the while they’re hysterically tired and telling awful jokes that have their stomachs hurting from all of the laughter. It may be a bit boring, but she likes doing that with Killian. It’s how they got to know each other, and it’s them in every single way.

That’s what they’re going to do later. She’s about to rack up a hell of a room service bill and absolutely not care about the diet and exercise plan that she’s been on. She deserves it.

She wonders if they have macaroni and cheese. They better have macaroni and cheese. She did not eat nearly enough macaroni and cheese when she was pregnant. Killian kept the food in the house far too healthy, even if he would let her indulge in her wants of cherry pie and cupcakes. Or really just the icing. She’s pretty sure Killian kept a secret stash of icing somewhere in the apartment just for her.

He just wouldn’t tell her where.

It’s probably still somewhere. She and Andy are going to go on a hunt for that sometime soon while Killian is at work.

Her dress is far too tight for her to be thinking about all of this food.

“Hot damn,” Killian whistles, walking out of the bathroom and straightening his bow tie. Hot damn is right. So maybe there are some benefits to going out tonight outside of the macaroni and cheese. Her husband looking fucking attractive one of them. “I see one smoking hot mum.”

She feels the blush rise in her cheeks, her entire body heating, and she simply shakes her head back and forth, her earrings moving with it. That’s one of Killian’s new favorite things to say, and while she knows he probably picked up on it from Ruby, she doesn’t mind. “Thank you, babe. You look nice.”

He winks at her before stepping a little closer to her, the tips of their shoes touching while he runs his hands over her shoulders, the metal of his wedding ring cool against the heat of her skin. He leans down to press a kiss against her right shoulder, then her left, and her entire body tingles with the mixture of his lips and newly trimmed scruff against her skin. Okay, so this night is sounding better and better. Or at least feeling that way.

“Your mum is waiting downstairs with Andy so we can say goodbye, Thomas has already had our bags sent to the hotel, and all of Andy’s things are packed up and loaded into your mum’s car. You ready to go?”

She nods her head before they make their way downstairs. She has to hold her dress up a bit and hold onto Killian’s elbow as they walk down the steps, but when she’s finally down on flat ground, she feels a little more accustomed to walking in heels again. Plus, she can hear her mom talking to Andy in the sitting room next to the front door that’s pretty much where all of his toys downstairs tend to find their home when she and Killian decide to clean things up.

Imagining what it’s going to be like when he gets a bit older and can actually play with the toys by moving them around himself is terrifying. Killian might go insane.

No, Killian will go insane.

“Oh, look, Andrew,” her mom coos as she and Killian come into sight, and Emma tries not to laugh at how her mom nearly always calls Andy by his full name. She’s just thankful she doesn’t walk around calling him Prince Andrew Killian. Every time someone calls him by that name, she cringes a bit. She understands, but she cringes. He’s just Andy and sometimes Andrew if it slips off her tongue. “Mummy and daddy look so nice, yeah, they’re going to have a date, and you’re going to spend the night with Mimi.”

“Let me cuddle him for a minute, Mom,” she says, taking a step closer and taking Andy into her arms and cuddling him against her skin while he reaches for her earrings. “Be good for Mimi, baby. I know me saying this doesn’t help, but I can hope. Yeah, I can hope that you’re going to be a good boy.” She looks up at her mom all the while she runs her hand up and down Andy’s back, feeling the softness of his little sweater. It makes him look like a grown man, and she finds weird enjoyment in dressing a baby in similar clothes that Killian and her dad wear. He’s got this beanie and plaid shirt that match Killian’s, and it’s adorable. “You’ve got all his stuff? His milk, the warmer, clothes, diapers?” “I packed the bag, love,” Killian tells her, stepping up to her and placing his hand on the small of her back. “Everything is in there.” “Okay, okay,” she sighs, nodding her before kissing the crown of Andy’s head. “I love you, baby. So, so much. Mom, call if anything’s wrong or if you’re just overwhelmed. Or maybe just to tell me how he is. We can come at any time.” “Sweetie, I know how to take care of a baby. You two go have fun.” “We will,” Killian promises as he takes Andy out of her arms and hugs him for minute, whispering words in his ears that she can’t hear before handing him over to her mom.

God, this is going to be hard, but she can do this. Most moms have already done this. She can do this.

“Let’s go, love.” Killian puts his hand on the small of her back again and guides her out of the apartment, grabbing her clutch along the way.

After twenty minutes in the car, every single one of which she worries about leaving Andy overnight with her mom despite how much she wants this night, Thomas is pulling them up to the drop-off zone at the BAFTAs, and she is already blinded by the lights of the cameras. It’s almost like her eyes have become adjusted to the lack of photographers over the past few months, and she can’t quite get adjusted to it this quickly, especially when the sun has set.

“It’s just for a few minutes, love,” Killian promises, stepping out of the car and holding his hand out to help her out, her dress having to be kicked as she moves. “And then we’ll be inside and get to watch the show.” “Thank you.” She successfully gets out of the car, smoothing her dress out and doing a quick last minute adjustment to her dress and earrings before Thomas and Isabelle lead them along the carpet and through the crowds until they’re in the building. “I’m excited to be here even if I seem a little wary,” she promises later while they’re standing behind the doors that will lead them to their seats.

“I know,” he tells her, holding his arm out to offer her support before they walk down the stairs. “We’re going to have a nice night, Andy is going to be fine, and I’m going to consistently remind you of how absolutely beautiful you are.” “I like you when you’re sweet.” “So always?”

“Eh.”

It’s only a quick walk down the stairs, but she feels like she might as well be walking the stairs of a football stadium with how everyone is staring at her and standing. That’s something she’ll never quite get over. Truly. People stand for her when she doesn’t deserve it in the slightest. She understands that it’s tradition, that she’s part of a historic family, but to her, she feels like she should be standing for all of these actors and how absolutely obsessed she is with their work. But life is weird, and even with all of these oddities, she knows that she wouldn’t change anything to get to keep the people who matter most to her.

Not at all.

The show is great, and it speeds by, even during the slow moments. Killian keeps her entertained, whispering his own commentary during every presentation and all of the attempts at humor, even when several of the jokes are about the two of them. She’s heard much worse about herself, so a little friendly fire is nothing. She honestly kind of likes it. Who is she to not like a good bit of comedy?

Nearly every break that happens they have someone come up to speak to them, and she falls so easily back into her role of someone who can have a conversation with a brick wall and still attempt to make it interesting. But tonight actually is interesting, and she’s getting to meet people who have made her laugh and cry all while within the comfort of her own home whether that home be in Maine, an apartment above a pub, or in Kensington. By the time they’ve been there for hours, she can feel smile lines in her cheeks and an ache in her feet despite having been seated for most of the night. Mostly, though, she feels the way Killian’s thumb is moving over her knuckles in a soothing pattern for the entire night, and it brings her a comfort that no one else in the room could.

They bow out before the show is over, walking through dark hallways made of concrete to find their way out a back entrance so they can privately get in their car and be driven to their hotel where the exact same thing happens, Isabelle checking in for them while Thomas gets them up to their suite without running into other guests. She’s sure it was quite the ordeal planning that, that Thomas would have much rather they stayed at home, but she doesn’t think about it too much and she toes out of her heels and lets her feet sink into the plush carpeting of their room while Killian undoes his bowtie, unbuttoning a few buttons as he goes to expose the dark hair on his chest.

She steps over to him, her dress trailing on the floor around her legs as she moves, until she’s close enough that she can undo the buttons on his shirt, deftly flicking them open until she can see the way his stomach muscles move with each heavy, steadying breath that he takes. Her finger traces along the line of hair, and she feels him twitch, which only makes her smile to herself, a bit of giddy anticipation settling inside of her at how her touch electrifies him. It’s powerful to have that kind of effect on someone else, but she knows that it’s not just her. He does the same thing to her.

“So we’re skipping dinner then?” he breathes out, his voice hitching while she continues to press her nails into his skin, scratching and tracing around his nipples all the while her eyes stay trained on his skin, on the way that his collarbone is peeking out from under his shirt and jacket.

“Oh no,” she laughs, finally tilting her head up to look at him and the way his eyes have darkened since she last saw them, “we are definitely eating later. That was promised to me. I just want to do this first.”

“To work up an appetite, aye?”

“Aye,” she mimics, pressing up on her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck, hands in his hair, before she softly glides her lips over his in what is one of her most loved moves. His hand rests on the small of her back, the weight heavy and comfortable all at once while the fingers of his other hand thread through her hair, gently pushing her forward at the same time that his tongue flickers out to tease her. He’s unhurried in the way that he kisses her, just as she is with him, but it’s almost like there’s an urgency with the way that he caresses her with both his tongue and his hands. There should be no urgency. They have all night with no risk of interruptions, but with how frantic they have been lately, she understands that worry of having to be taken away from more pleasurable activities in order to be with their son.

“I need…I need to take off this dress.”

“I plan on getting there,” Killian murmurs against her lips before he tilts his head and trails his lips across her jaw, making the heat pool in her belly in that familiar, yet always thrilling way. “Was actually plan on getting there pretty soon.” He pulls back from her, the loss of heat instantaneous until his finger trails along the concave of her breasts, making her own breath hitch as she did to Killian earlier. “I’ve had a particularly nice view this entire evening, but I would so enjoy having a better one.”

“You could always just say you want to see my boobs. That is why you liked this dress after all.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” he questions, slowly dragging his fingers across her skin until he’s moving all of her hair over to one shoulder, kissing each inch of skin that’s now exposed. She hears the zipper move, feels the dress loosen so she can breathe, but mostly she feels Killian’s lips and his scruff as he adorns her skin with his caresses.

They’re an expert in this, have been for nearly a decade now, but they take their time undressing each other, laughing to themselves with she struggles to get the Spanx that’s been squeezing her stomach all night off in several movements that she knows cannot at all be attractive. Killian simply shakes his head, his lips stretched apart in a smile so wide that his eyes close and the lines around them crinkle, and she feels a similar one stretch across her own lips as she finally gets the material down around her feet. Such are the hazards of giving birth and then having to wear a tight dress.

Such are the hazards of simply being a woman and having to wear a tight dress.

Killian’s a bit more rushed with his pace after that, and while she can feel his headiness pressed against her thigh, warm and hard, he takes the time to kiss her, to move over her, and she’s practically squirming by the time his fingers trail through her folds while his breath ghosts over her hipbone and the stretch marks that reside there. She’d been so self-conscious about them for awhile, so worried about the way that they mark her skin, and while those feelings haven’t gone away, she tries to remind herself that she literally gave life. Those marks are nothing to be ashamed of.

And Killian has never once treated her differently because of them. She knows that’s what should happen, that he should never judge her for how her body changes, but she also knows that she’s one of the lucky ones.

In more ways than one.

He continues to tease her even as he moves back up her body, every touch setting her skin aflame in a way that she struggles to describe, to comprehend really, and she’s thankful when his mouth brushes against hers again so that she can cup his cheeks and hold him steady while her heart beats at a quick, steady rhythm within her chest.

Steady, she thinks. Killian is always steady. And yet he’s always thrilling, exciting, unexpected even when she knows his next move. He’s everything including flawed, especially including flawed, but she loves him. And they work. That’s all that really matters to her. They work.

After sinking into her, his heat encompassing her even more, he settles heavily within her, somehow weighing her down and lifting her up. It doesn’t matter if they’re frantic or slow, if they’re caring or harsh, because some things always stay the same. He always feels good inside of her, rocking within her and dragging skin against skin in a way that she knows makes both of them lose themselves for awhile.

It’s a good feeling.

Sweat beads at her forehead, likely causing her makeup to run, but she doesn’t really care, not with the way she craves this heat. Her nails trail along his back while her legs wrap around his waist and rest just above his ass as he leisurely drags himself inside of her all the while slanting his lips over hers in a warm slide. This is one of her favorite spots, favorite positions even with its frequency, and Killian always somehow manages to drive her into madness with the spots that he hits and the way he knows just what to do.

Being with someone for so long…it’s like nothing she ever would have expected it to be.

She whispers words of love and affection into his ear or against his lips, usually having to take a moment to catch her breath or to mutter a curse when he hits a particularly good spot or gets into a good rhythm while she matches her hips to his, and he does the same to her, his voice deep, husky, breathless against her skin. As the coil in her stomach tightens, every one of her senses dulled to the heady feel of Killian dragging within her, she almost cries out in pain before the pleasure reaches her. It’s not always something that reaches down to her toes, there’s not always those metaphorical fireworks, but tonight she feels a buzz across every inch of her skin while the love of her life drags his lips up and down her neck, his movements finally becoming frantic when he gets to feel the buzz too.

Once they’ve caught their breaths, she doesn’t want to move, just wants to stay with her cheek resting against the firmness of Killian’s chest, his heart beating a steady rhythm that reaffirms nothing and everything all at once. But she knows that she has to move, that at least one of them does if they want clean sheets tonight, and thankfully for her it’s Killian moving first, his lips brushing against the crown of her head before he moves and her cheek falls against a pillow. It’s comfortable, but it’s not quite the same.

By the time he comes back and sweetly cleans her up, she can feel her eyes fluttering closed, the business of the day catching up to her, but she also can feel a heaviness in her breasts, one she knows she can’t sleep with, so she does eventually get out of bed, going through their bags until she can find her breast pump. It’s a new normal, a normal she loves even with its inconveniences, and as Killian settles down next to her in bed, the muscles in his thighs obvious in her eyeline while he has one arm wrapped around her shoulder, his fingers playing with the tips of her hair as always, she thinks about how good all of these changes are.

“What do you want to eat, my love?” he asks as the machine makes this awful noise that happens nearly every time.

“Is it not too late for room service?”

“I’m sure they’re probably not expecting an order, but it does say it’s always available.”

She hums, closing her eyes for a moment, sleep calling her again almost as much as the food does, almost as much as her instinct to wonder what exactly it is that Andy is doing right now. Is he asleep? Did he eat using the bottle? Has he cried too much? Does he miss her? Can he sleep without she or Killian being there to soothe him? Does he even know that she’s gone?

“I miss him too, love,” Killian promises, and she wonders if she voiced her thoughts out loud or not, “but Dave texted me to let me know that all is good. He’s been fast asleep for hours.”

“Is he happy, do you think?”

“Of course he is.” When she feels Killian’s lips brush across her forehead, she has to close her eyes and take a deep breath in an attempt to keep the tears that are stinging behind her eyes from falling. It’s the strangest feeling in the world to struggle being apart from someone who can’t even speak yet, but she’s got this heaviness in the pit of her stomach about not being with him. She worries about something happening, about her not being there for it, and she knows that she needs to change her course of thought before she falls into the deepest of rabbit holes.

“He’s happy,” Killian insists again, “and I hope you are too. I love you.”

“I love you,” she whispers back as she rests her head on his shoulder. “What kind of food do they have?”

“Whatever your heart desires.”

She’s not even entirely sure what Killian orders, but she knows it’s all indulgent and probably too much for them. While they wait, she hangs up her gown, making sure not to mess it up for when she wants to wear it again, and begins the long process of removing her makeup and brushing through her hair, which is only more tangles now from the way Killian’s fingers tangled themselves in it and from the way sweat gathered at the nape of her neck. But eventually she’s makeup free with her hair in a simple braid, and she’s changed into pajamas that are possibly the softest thing in the world. She thought about not getting dressed, figuring that she and Killian won’t let this night be a one-time thing, but she really likes these shorts and top.

It’s a night full of indulgence, of letting themselves fall back into who they are when they’re not parents, and she absolutely stuffs her face with macaroni that’s far too fancy when she would literally eat it out of the box and with this cherry and chocolate cake that she really wants to take home with her. She might get to with the way that Killian has some of it on his cheek, the chocolate icing smeared right over the scar that resides there. She doesn’t know why, but it makes her lose herself in laughter, her stomach literally convulsing with happiness, and she’s pretty sure that it’s some kind of chain reaction thing as Killian laughs too.

His laugh is one of the good ones.

The clock ticks past three before they finally fall asleep, food put away and pajamas discarded just like she knew that they would be, and she can actually feel the smile on her face, happiness practically radiating off of her, and she dips into a slumber with the solid, steady rhythm of Killian’s heartbeat against her cheek.

It was a damn good date, one she’d like to repeat over and over again, but as they languidly get ready the next morning, enjoying the softness of the sheets and the pillows too much to get out of bed too early, she feels a bit of anxiousness wanting to be back with her child. Killian won’t admit to it, but she knows that he does too by the way his fingers fidget against her thigh and the way that he checks his phone to see if her parents have said anything else. So much earlier than they probably intended, they get Thomas to guide them out of the hotel and drive them to her parents’ house.

He’s waiting for her in his swing in the living room when she walks in the room, and her heart absolutely lifts or resettles or does something insane when he smiles up at her, recognition in his light blue eyes that she’s decided are going to stay that way forever.

“Hey, little man,” she sighs, a giggle escaping her as she smatters kisses across his face, relief settling over her that he’s just the same as he was when she left him. “I missed you so much.”

She holds onto him tightly, checking all of his features, before handing him to Killian because she knows that he needs the comfort too. She can see it in his eyes, the way they flutter closed when Andy is first in his arms, and she continues to feel the same way that that she has all night.

Happy.

“You ready to go home?”

“Yeah,” Killian sighs, smiling down at her before he dips his head to quickly glide his lips over hers all the while Andy squeals in his arms, “I am.”

#second in command #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic

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