#fic: the heiress of misfortune | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hollyethecurious · 3 years

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CS AU: The Duke and His Swan (5/5)

Summary: Dearest Reader, the ton is abuzz with speculation that the new Duke of Ironhook will be remaining in town for the duration of the Season. Second born of the illustrious Jones family, Killian Jones has quite the legacy to live up to now he has inherited the dukedom from his late elder brother. Also entering Society for her first season is Miss Emma Swan, ward to the Viscount Nolan’s family. Gifted with a respectable dowry, Miss Swan’s financial worth and uncommon good looks will surely make up for her rumored prickly disposition in the eye of more than one fortune seeking suitor. Stay tuned, Dear Reader, for this author has it on good authority His Grace and Miss Swan shall cause quite a sensation, perhaps even resulting in… scandal!

A/N: Sorry I didn’t post a sneak peek this week! I know I promised I would, but when it came down to it everything seemed too spoilery. I hope posting early will make up for it, though! With all the Memorial Day events we have planned tomorrow, I wanted to make sure the final installment got posted sooner rather than later.

Thank you all for coming on this journey with me. I SO appreciate all the reblogs, comments, likes, kudos, and reviews. Thanks so much!!

Much love to @artistic-writer for the gorgeous pic set she created to accompany this fic, and a thousand rainbow hearts and unicorn stickers to @kmomof4 and @ilovemesomekillianjones for being my cheerleader and beta, respectively. Love you ladies to bits!!

Rated M for language and smut / Available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

Part Five

What a whirlwind of a week, Dear Readers. One filled with tantalizing tales that I, Lady Priscilla Candlewyck, promise to convey to you even as they continue to unfold within the ton.

First, it seems Mr. Neal Cassidy has found himself no longer in possession of a membership at Aesop’s. While speculation runs rampant, I can tell you his honor has been called into question. It seems he owes vast sums to a number of debtors, a problem he likely sought to solve by marrying an heiress, which would explain his relentless pursuit of a certain Duke’s Swan. While such circumstance is not unheard of within the ton, it appears that is only the beginning of Mr. Cassidy’s misfortunes. This Author has heard it rumored the man recently engaged in an act of such cowardice and despicable character, he is no longer welcome in any respectable home or business and is, at this very moment, embarking on an extended journey abroad where we can only hope he will have the good sense to remain in exile.

But let us not dwell on these unpleasant topics, Dear Reader, for there is reason to rejoice! Like many of you, I confess a most undignified sound of pure elation escaped me when I read the Pronouncement of Engagement between Miss Emma Swan and The Duke of Ironhook in yesterday’s evening paper. I must tell you, though, Faithful Reader, that is not the most exciting and intriguing bit of news regarding the Duke and his Swan. For by the time you read this, the two will have found themselves, not simply intended for one another, but pronounced husband and wife! At this very moment, they are likely on their way to the Duke’s country estate to begin their honeymoon, and I am sure you will join me in wishing them every happiness and satisfaction in their wedded bliss.

~/~

A warm, orange glow filled the cab of the Duke’s carriage as it gently rocked and swayed the two inhabitants sitting in quiet resolve within. Other than when they’d exchanged their vows earlier that morning, Emma and the Duke had not said much to one another. Pleasantries mostly. Expected and necessary comments of polite and proper discourse as they entertained the few guests invited to the ceremony and modest reception. Overly civil and formal exchanges when they’d stopped for dinner on the road. Emma thought she might go mad from the silence, but was at a loss of how to break it without causing greater damage to their already fractured existence.

Silhouettes of towering trunks flickered past the carriage window, alerting Emma to the change of scenery. Killian had told her his lands lay just beyond a forest where the occasional vagrant or bandit would attempt to waylay coaches at night, thus their need to leave out from the city by midday so they could reach the estate by nightfall. She supposed he did not relish having to spend their wedding night at a roadside inn, and was quite frankly glad of that.

Nerves fluttered through her chest and down into her stomach at the prospect of what awaited her once they reached the estate. Churnings of both apprehension and anticipation had made it difficult for her to consume much of anything that day, and with the sun’s descent towards the horizon and the pace of the carriage seemingly increasing in speed, her heart soon matched their swiftness with its strumming beats racing beneath her breast.

Perhaps sensing the mounting tension permeating the cab from her attempts to quell her thoughts regarding their wedding night, Killian shifted in his seat and finally broke the silence hanging heavily between them.

“Not much farther now.” His own gaze was fixed on the blur of trees sweeping past. “I sent word yesterday to the housekeeper, Mrs. Tremaine, that a formal welcome and introduction of the staff can wait until tomorrow. I imagined you’d be tired upon our arrival and would wish to be shown to your room so you might turn in for the night.”

Emma’s head snapped toward his, her brow creased in confusion as she questioned, “My room?”

Killian’s Adam’s apple bobbed and his eyes remained focused on the landscape which had begun to change back into golden fields as they left the shadows of the forest. “Aye. It is customary for the Duchess to have her own chambers, and I would not presume to expect duties from you until--”

“But I am perfectly prepared to meet those expectations,” Emma assured him. His eyes fell shut and a heavy exhale shuddered from his chest, prompting her to reach forward and place her hand over his, balled up into a fist atop his thigh. “Killian,” she said softly. “I know you do not love me, that this is a marriage born of duty and not something you truly wanted, but I am determined to make the best of our situation. I know what is expected of me, what is required of us, in order to secure the future of the Ironhook name. You need an heir, and there is only one way for us to produce one. I may not have been your first choice as Duchess, just as being a wife and mother was not something I had ever anticipated wanting, but we both must find a way to compromise the expectations we had for our lives and make the best of the one we find ourselves forever joined in.”

Squeezing his hand tighter, she looked at him pleadingly, needing him to meet her halfway in this commitment and the forgiveness she desperately sought from him while wishing to impart her own absolution for the part he played in their current predicament. The desire to confess the fullness of her heart to him remained firmly planted on her tongue. She was certain he felt trapped enough as it was, and did not wish to add to the burden of his responsibility to her by making him feel as though he must reciprocate the love she held for him. Perhaps, if she were truly fortunate, he would come to love her with time.

“You think I…” Killian’s words, even as they trailed off, pulled her attention back to him. She flinched back when he raised his other fist and pounded on the wall behind him, the one that separated the cab from the driver. The carriage slowed to a stop, and before Emma could pose an inquiry as to why, Killian stepped out and demanded the reins from the coachman.

Emma jostled when the wheels began to turn once more, her hands gripping the bottom of the window as she peered out to see where Killian was taking them. They had not traveled far when a lane appeared on their right, its destination leading to a grand manor house Emma could barely make out in the waning light of the day. After coming to a stop once more, Killian alighted from the driver’s seat and opened the carriage door, assisting her from the cab with an expression full of trepidation.

“Where… Where are we?” Emma asked, taking in the vast house and sweeping lawns. “What is this place?”

“This,” Killian said, leading her away from the carriage and to a better vantage point where she could appreciate the manor and all its amenities better, “is my wedding gift to you.”

“What?”

“I was planning to show it to you tomorrow, but after all you said in the carriage, I knew it could not wait until then.”

“I do not understand,” Emma replied, casting her perplexed expression upon him. “My wedding gift? Why would I have need of--”

“The east wing would be an ideal place to keep the orphaned children. It has multiple levels of rooms so you could have a floor for boys and one for girls.” He stretched out his arm and gestured towards the other side of the manor, suggesting, “I thought the west wing might serve as a place where you could house women who find themselves in similar circumstances as your mother had. Provide them with a safe place where they can bring their baby into the world with dignity, giving them options on what they think might be the best chance for them and their child. Whether it’s leaving them in your care here at the orphanage, or perhaps making a fresh start with a proper reference from a Duchess, no less.”

Words caught in Emma’s throat, impeding her ability to draw in a full breath. When she did not respond to his vision for what he’d had in mind with his wedding gift, he stepped before her, taking her hands in his own, and ran his thumbs soothingly along the backs of her knuckles.

“I told your brother to put your dowry in trust, so you might use it as you see fit,” he told her in a hushed and gentle tone. “And as you’ll see, the manor is only a short distance from our estate, making it convenient for you to be as hands on with the orphanage as you wish to be.”

“I don’t… how did you… is this manor not part of your--”

“It used to be August’s,” he confided. “It belonged to his mother’s side of the family, but he lost it gambling many years ago.”

“To you?”

“No,” he replied with a soft smile. “To a man who passed on some time ago, and through whose solicitor I acquired it the day before yesterday.”

“The day before…” Emma’s breath caught at the earnest look in Killian’s eyes, the way he waited for the full measure of understanding to settle over her as she parsed. “Before the Camelot Ball? Before we… before the gardens and our… before Mr. Cassidy witnessed us and you… before--”

Her words cut off when Killian leaned in and rested his forehead against her. “Aye,” he breathed. “Before all of that.”

“Why?”

His tongue darted out and wet his lips, his eyelids fluttering closed as his chest labored from a fortifying breath. “Because, love. This is your heart’s desire.” Opening once more, Emma felt herself getting lost in his forget-me-not depths as he continued to profess things she never found herself brave enough to dream he’d say to her. “I promise that’s all I want you to have. I did not want you to compromise anything of your wants and desires to be my wife, and had hoped, once I had a chance to convey that to you, it would have been enough to convince you to say yes.”

“Say yes?” Emma parroted breathlessly. “You mean… you already had intentions of proposing?”

“Of course I did, Swan,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over her lips as darkness enveloped them. “I love you.”

His hands released hers in favor of holding her face within their gentle grasp. His eyes bounced between hers as he unburdened himself of all the things she imagined he’d been holding back from declaring, afraid of the weight such proclamations might add to her perceived disappointment in being forced to marry, just as she had refrained from expressing similar sentiments to him.

“I love you, and there is nothing I will not do to ensure your happiness in the hopes that one day you might return my love.”

Emma opened her mouth, but her response stuck in the back of her throat, overcome by the emotion welling up from within.

“I will not deny my desire for children, but the legacy of an heir can wait until such a time you are ready. Indeed, I am willing to wait in regards to all aspects of our marital bed until you are comfortable with the notion, despite how much I want you.”

His jaw tightened, the muscle above flickering in time with her pulse as his words, the veracity of which she could see swirling in his darkened gaze, sent her own longings thundering through her veins. Dusk had begun to cast its nightly spell, leaving the air around them charged with wistful promises of possibilities long yearned for. Possibilities Emma determined to take hold of, not wishing to let another moment go by where doubt or misconstrued intentions might rob them of the happiness they had already delayed with their foolish presumptions.

Surging upward onto her toes, Emma fused her lips to Killian’s. After a moment’s pause, getting over the shock of her unexpected action, he slipped a hand to the back of her neck and tentatively returned the kiss. It occurred to Emma she had said nothing since his declaration, and while clearly not opposed to what she had hoped to convey with her kiss, Killian had always been a man of words and, therefore, would need the assurance of hers before he would allow himself to read too much into her actions.

“Take me home, Killian,” she breathed against his lips. “Take me to our bed. Make me your wife.”

His fingers dug into the back of her neck, his grip tightening there and at her waist where his other hand had settled. “Are you sure, love?”

“As sure as I am of my love for you.”

He pulled back slightly, eyes searching hers as an expression of reserved hopefulness swept over his features. “What?”

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Emma raised herself up a bit higher on her toes so she could press her forehead to his. “I love you, Killian. I love you, and I… want you, too. So, please, Your Grace. Take me home.”

An audible gasp, tinted with laughter and surprise, rushed over her lips when Killian bent down and lifted her into his arms, marching a quick path back towards their carriage with a growling, As you wish… Your Grace, rumbling from his chest.

~/~

Emma’s lips tingled and her skin was flushed from the simmering heat coursing through her veins. Mindful to not put any extra sway in the carriage during the short ride to the estate, Killian had tried to keep their interactions somewhat chaste, but by the time they rolled up the long drive leading to the grand house, Emma had found herself on his lap making a right mess of his hair as he plundered every bit of exposed skin his lips could reach. The heat at her cheeks intensified when she took in Killian’s disheveled appearance as they entered the house and greeted the Housekeeper and Butler, imagining she likely looked in quite a state as well and hoping they wouldn’t judge her too critically.

“No need, Mrs. Tremaine,” Killian waved off the woman’s offer to help the Duchess get settled in. “I’ll see to my wife’s needs this evening.” Placing his hand to the small of her back, he steered Emma towards the grand staircase and murmured huskily in her ear, “Each and every need, even if it takes until dawn.”

A shudder of wonder ran down her spine and anticipation fluttered through her chest and low in her belly. How she managed to make it up all those stairs with her legs wobbling, she’d never know, but their tremble was nothing in comparison to the quiver taking hold of her entire body now that she was alone with Killian in his - their - bedroom.

“Are you still certain, love? I can show you to your room if you’d rather--”

“No!” Emma protested, perhaps a bit too vehemently. Her brazen insistence and his amused expression made her blush once more. “That is… I’m sure.”

“Good,” he murmured, stepping closer with a confident swagger. His eyes swept over her with a predatory hunger, making her feel like a hare caught in a wolf’s sights. “Turn around,” he commanded, softly but firmly.

It did not even occur to her to inquire the reason as she immediately obeyed, turning her back to him with the soft crackle of the fireplace attempting to combat the shiver that skittered over her arms in the wake of Killian’s fingertips. Without a single word spoken between them, he meticulously and reverently removed each of her garments. His deft fingers made short work of the closures at the back of her traveling gown and his determined tugs at her laces divested her of her corset in record time. All that was left was her underskirt, but he seemed in no rush to add it to the pool of fabric at her feet just yet, too intent on trailing his lips, teeth, and tongue over the slopes of her shoulders and down her spine, making the fine hairs of her body raise to attention as she fought to keep air in her lungs.

“Positively stunning you are, love,” Killian whispered into her skin, his hot breath rippling over her hip as he placed another kiss above the fastening of her underskirt. “Perfection.”

He popped the button out of its closure then followed the material as it slipped down her legs, the rough calluses on his hands contrasting with the soft texture of the linen as both brushed her skin with a feather light touch. Her flesh broke out in hot waves of prickled goosebumps when he stood behind her, his hands continuing to map the lines and curves of her body. When he turned her back around to face him, she thought she might combust from the desire burning in his eyes and the way his gaze traveled over her breasts.

“You’ve no idea how long I have wanted to see you like this, my darling,” he said, something strained and barely controlled tightening his tone. “I’m going to touch you now, and you let me know if there is anything that isn’t to your liking when I do.”

Emma’s breath caught at the sensation of his touch, running the backs of his fingers along her collarbones then over the swell of breasts. He palmed one breast, kneading it in his hand as his mouth followed the path his fingers had tread, his tongue circling the outer edges of her nipple before he slipped it between his teeth. Certain this time that her legs would fail her, Emma gripped Killian’s arms in an effort to support herself, but the action caused him to rear back, a pained hiss falling from his lips.

“Killian, what…” Her eyes widened with realization when she saw him place his hand over the upper part of his bicep. Gasping, she recalled, “Your wound! Oh, Your Grace, I am so sorry.”

“It’s nothing, Swan,” he assured her with a small vestige of a grimace marring his features. “As the doctor said, I was fortunate, and so long as we are mindful of it, my injury will not detract from the enjoyable activities I have planned for us this evening.”

The image of him hurt and bleeding in that field sprang to mind, and the accompanying emotions of terror, rage, and guilt threatened to consume her once again as they had yesterday morning when she had nearly put a bullet in Neal Cassidy for his treachery.

“Hey, no,” he soothed, cupping her face in his hands. “I will not allow him, or anything else, to cast a pall upon this night.” Resting his forehead against hers, he breathed, “Just you and me, love. Tonight, it is just you and me.”

“You and me,” she echoed back, letting the soft caress of his thumbs over the apples of her cheeks bring her back to the sensations of the moment. Like the pleasant heat of the fire playing against the coolness of the room, and the way her skin came alive at the reminder she had not a stitch of clothing on while Killian was still fully dressed.

Running her hands up his chest, she slipped them beneath the lapels of his coat and carefully guided it over his shoulders and down his arms. He watched her, his gaze intently focused on her face, searching for any trace of hesitancy or uncertainty as she undid the buttons of his waistcoat then moved to the ones at his shirt. When both garments landed on the floor next to his coat, he reached down and grasped the backs of her thighs, lifting her into his arms before she could set work upon his trousers.

Impatient sounds reverberated through Killian’s chest as he laid her atop their bed, his lips desperate in their need to pay homage to every inch of her skin. Emma’s back arched, her hands balling the bed coverings in her fists as he licked and nipped and kissed his way down her body. The tip of his nose trailed from her knee along the inside of her thigh, a silent command that she open herself up to him asserted on the hot breath drifting towards her apex ahead of his mouth.

“Relax, darling,” he imparted, spreading her legs wider as he settled between them. “Lie back and let me taste you.”

When the rough, heated texture of his tongue met the soft dampness of her sex Emma nearly dissolved within the mattress. Head thrown back and eyes clamped shut, she gave herself over to the depraved way Killian was devouring her and all the previously forbidden desires his actions were releasing within her. Sounds she never would have thought herself capable of echoed through the room as her body began to move wantonly in response to each flick and flutter of his wicked tongue, but those utterances and gyrations were nothing in comparison to how she reacted when he slipped a finger into her center, curling it along the inside of her walls before removing it and then thrusting it, and a second, back in again.

“Oh, God! Killian!” she panted, on the verge of begging him to stop, though she felt as though she might die if he did.

While her mind warred with her desires, her body knew full well what it wanted, continuing to chase the release as her hips desperately ground against his mouth. A series of vibrations tormented the sensitive bundle he was currently lavishing his attentions on, hums of appreciation and encouragement from his lips while his free hand skimmed up the heated flesh of her form until it found her breast and squeezed it tightly before rolling her nipple between his fingers.

White spots of dazzling stars exploded behind her eyelids, and a tidal wave of pure pleasure washed over her in waves of relief as an icy fire rippled over her skin in the wake of its ebbing. Her chest heaved, her panting a faint rhythm against the thundering of her blood in her ears. Small tremors coursed their way through her body as Killian finished his ministrations, leaving her one last kiss amid the soft curls above her sex.

She scarcely felt the mattress move when Killian climbed off of it, but his absence forced her eyes open in search of him. He hadn’t gone far, standing beside their bed with his lust filled and hooded gaze raking over her, a shimmer of her essence still clinging to his chin.

He hummed decadently when his tongue swept over his lips. “You have a beautiful taste, my love.”

A fresh swell of desire prickled her skin, flushing her a deeper shade of pink and reawakening the ache between her thighs. When his hands began to work the fastening of his trousers, her gaze remained fixed, her breath coming in labored pants of anticipation laced with apprehension over that which was about to be revealed. The sight of him, rigid and proud and much larger than she had expected made her throat go dry, making it nearly impossible to swallow her surge of panic.

“Don’t be afraid,” Killian murmured in a half plea, half directive tone.

“Isn’t it meant to… hurt, though?”

Crawling back onto the bed, he positioned himself atop her, his hips settling into the space between her still splayed thighs with his weight braced on his forearms, his hand caressing the side of her face. “I would never intentionally cause you pain, love,” he promised. “The initial sensation will feel foreign, like an intrusion, and perhaps be a tad uncomfortable until your body has become accustomed to mine, but once that has passed-” he rolled his hips, allowing his member to slip between her folds and make contact with the pleasure point that had once again begun to throb, pulling a moan from her as rapture ran up her spine. “-all you’ll feel is my love for you. Filling you.” Another tormenting thrust brushed against her, causing her back to leave the mattress. “Worshipping you.” His mouth latched onto her breast, pushed upward from the arch of her back and another wanton sound fell from her lips as he sucked hard on her painfully erect nipple before releasing it with an indecent pop to darkly impart, “Giving you everything you need until these trepidations you feel are a distant memory.”

“What trepidations?” Emma groaned, bucking her hips against his, no longer feeling anything but a fierce desire to be filled and worshiped and given everything he had to offer, just as he’d promised.

He chuckled and shifted his hips. “That’s my fierce lass.”

Reaching down, he lined himself up with her entrance, his eyes never wavering from hers as he pushed inside ever so slightly. At the first hint of her body’s reluctance he withdrew, repeating the languid actions of gliding his length through her slick sex and taunting her bud before attempting his advance once more. It did feel like an intrusion at first, but the mixture of delightful bombardments he was assaulting her with - from the press of his lips slanting against hers, to the touch of his hand now applying pressure to that wondrous place between her legs, to the feel of his cock stretching her in a way that burned with exquisite agony - had her relaxing her guard and welcoming him fully into herself after a few deliberately controlled thrusts.

“Bloody hell, Emma. I’ve never experienced anything as luxurious as the feel of you.” His forehead pressed against hers, damp from the exertion of keeping a tight command upon himself, the strain of which crept into his voice when he told her. “I have to move. Have to feel your walls sliding against my cock. Feel the way you cling to me each time I thrust into your depths. Making you mine as you claim me as yours.”

“Yes!” Emma exclaimed, her nails clawing at his back with each change of pace and rhythm his hips orchestrated.

The scratch of his chest hair against her nipples, the burn of his beard rubbing against her cheek, the grip of his hand on hers, fingers tightly woven together above her head as the snap of his hips jarred her body with fresh pleasures, and his words uttered all the devotion and depravity he wanted her to have from him had her instinctively hitching her legs higher against his waist. The slight change in position unlocked a new trove of unexpected pleasure, shockwaves of bliss bursting up her spine each time his length met the spot she knew would send her over the edge once more.

“There,” she exhaled, not sure her breath had been strong enough to carry the clarity of the word to his ears with his own pants and vocalized breaths ringing in her own. “Right there,” she repeated. Pulling her hands free of his, she grasped his backside and held tight, her nails digging into the firm flesh, causing his rhythm to stutter.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded. “Please, Your Grace! Don’t stop!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it… Your Grace,” he growled teasingly, his hips pistoning with renewed vigor, making her body stiffen as the final elements of her release gathered at the base of her spine. “That’s it, love,” Killian praised, feeling her walls clamped down around him. “Take your pleasure.”

He was relentless, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from her as she felt that same current of pure satisfaction sweep her away within a riptide of euphoria.

“Gods above, Emma,” Killian cried out with a jerk of hips, his length pulsing in her depths, spilling his seed into her as she continued to convulse around him.

With a grunt of exhaustion, Killian collapsed beside her, his hand covering his face as his chest, like hers, fought to find breath.

“That was…” Emma began, not sure how to even begin putting the experience into words.

“A one time thing,” Killian muttered, his tone professing the self-reproach he was inexplicably feeling.

Emma’s heart clenched and her stomach fell away at the thought she had somehow disappointed him, but before the feeling of despair could take root, Killian seemed to realize how his words might have affected her.

Rolling over, he gathered her in his arms, face cupped in his large hand with nothing but love and apology swirling in his eyes. “I meant, my finishing inside you, Swan. I shouldn’t have done that. An heir can wait until after you’ve established your orphanage. I don’t want you becoming pregnant to be an obstacle towards your heart desire. I never meant to--”

Emma cut him off with the press of her mouth, unwilling to relent in her assault against his kiss swollen lips until he was thoroughly distracted from the train of thought he’d allowed himself to traverse.

“You are my heart’s desire, Your Grace.” She brushed the fringe of his hair off his forehead and swept her hand through his riotous strands until her fingers curled around the back of his neck. “You. Killian Jones. The Duke of Ironhook. My husband.” A wide grin broke across his face at her use of that particular moniker. “You are my heart’s desire. You and our future together, whatever that entails, is all I will ever desire. Do you understand me, Your Grace?”

“Aye, love,” he replied with a soft, contented smile. “I understand you perfectly.” Pulling her in tighter, he placed a kiss at her temple and tucked her against his chest. “Because you are, always have been, and always will be, my heart’s desire as well.”

~/~

The ballroom was buzzing with a pleasant murmur of the Duke and Duchess’ friends and family, gathered to celebrate the end of The Season, the arrival of the Nolan heir, and the upcoming nuptials of those among their circle who had found their own match. Killian sipped his champagne from a quiet corner, amusing himself with the way his and Emma’s worlds were colliding right here in their home.

Lord Nolan balked and hovered nervously as his wife handed off their fussing son and heir to Jefferson, who had always had a way with children, able to calm them despite the chaotic nature many within the ton associated with him. Once The Viscount seemed convinced his son was indeed in good hands as Lady Nolan and Jefferson jointly cooed over the quieting infant, Nolan turned back to the conversation he’d been engaged in with Robin, though Killian could not fathom what commonality the two men had found to discuss.

A smile quirked Killian’s lip when he moved his attention to Will, stammering hopelessly as he tried to converse with Miss French, who had been shocked to receive their invitation, given the scandal that had erupted around her after he and Emma had wed and left town.

It seemed her father had lost everything in a series of bad investments and had hoped to marry her off to Gold before the truth was revealed. Fortunately for Miss French - at least, Killian believed her to be most fortunate anyway - the news of Maurice's dire straits broke within Candlewyck’s pages before a contract of betrothal could be drawn up. Unfortunately, it also meant Miss French’s prospects had plummeted, but given the way she seemed receptive to Will’s clearly smitten advances, perhaps things might turn out well for her after all.

A booming laugh pulled his focus towards Nemo, assembled in a group that included Lord Huntsman, Miss Lucas, and the Widow Lucas. No doubt Granny had made one of her off-color remarks, catching Nemo by surprise and thus eliciting such a guffaw it had pulled everyone’s attention to the furiously blushing young couple who were mere weeks away from their wedding and the start of their own happily ever after. The thought of happily ever afters had him instinctively scanning the room for his Swan, his breath catching like it always did at the sight of her bright smile and glittering emerald eyes.

Over the past several weeks, he and his Duchess had revelled in the joys and delights of their honeymoon, exploring every inch of the other’s body while christening a number of the estate’s rooms and various locations upon the grounds. He’d dismissed the staff from the dining room one morning before breakfast, electing to feast upon his wife, splayed out across the dining table, rather than the fare the kitchens had provided. They’d made love on the sprawling grounds of the estate numerous times, even got caught in the rain once and ended up fucking in one of the garden pavilions in which they’d taken shelter.

The memory of his wife’s wet, naked body bent over in front of him as he pounded into her like the deluge had against the stone structure had him stirring to attention. As did the memory of her on her knees beneath his desk in his office one afternoon, taking him into her mouth for the first time; a result of her curiosity and a challenge he’d issued, knowing she would never back down from it and just needed an excuse so she could do the thing she had not been bold enough yet to initiate with him.

Then there was the library, the grand staircase, and the random closet they’d ducked into when things had turned heated in a hallway and a maid was about to happen upon them, all locations they’d left well used, though not by their intended purposes.

Downing the remainder of his champagne, Killian cleared his throat and took a moment to collect himself. He needed to rejoin the party and interact with his guests or else he’d find himself dragging his wife away in search of some new corner of his estate to take her in.

With a slightly stiff gait, he made his way towards the object of his desire. Like a moth to a flame, he was playing with fire by going to Emma while his blood still ran hot in his veins, burning for her, but there was nowhere else he’d rather be than by her side. Thankfully, the conversation she was currently occupied in with August had more of an affect on his heart than his groin.

“Mr. Hopper believes we can begin hiring the rest of the staff now that renovations to the manor are well on their way. We hope to be able to care for children and wayward mothers by the first of the year.”

“It’s a remarkable thing you’re doing, Your Grace,” August praised.

Killian well recognized the look of admiration and awe within the man’s eyes, it was a common expression people wore when his Swan told them of her plan and how much she had accomplished towards her goal of opening an orphanage thus far. In fact, he was certain he’d worn it many times himself.

“My mother and father would be thrilled with what you are doing with the manor. Especially my mother. The place meant so much to her,” he said in a tone faintly tinted with remorse and contrition.

Emma gave August a warm and understanding smile, then started to ask him something, but was interrupted by Jefferson coming up behind August and wrapping his arms around his waist before setting his chin upon his shoulder.

“Are you ready to turn in, darling? We have to depart rather early tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry you both can’t stay longer,” Emma said, and it warmed Killian’s heart to know she absolutely meant it, despite the nature of their relationship which others would have severely condemned them for.

“Me too,” Jefferson lamented. “Priscilla always loved this part of the countryside and I haven’t been in this part of the realm in many years. Perhaps I could bring Grace with me next time? She’d love it here, too.”

“Priscilla?”

“My late wife,” Jefferson informed her. “Grace’s mother.”

“I see.” Emma nodded. “Of course you can bring Grace with you next time. You are all very welcome here any time.”

“Well…” Killian drawled, reaching up to scratch behind his ear as he gave the men a significant look beneath his pointedly raised brows. “Perhaps not any time.”

“Point taken,” August replied on a laugh, taking hold of Jefferson’s hand and bidding them goodnight.

“Oh! My Lord Booth,” Emma said before they could go too far. “I meant to ask you something about the manor.”

“I’m happy to answer any question you have, if I can.”

“On the official papers, the manor has a name. I haven’t found anyone who is familiar enough with the tongue of the land your mother was from in order to pronounce it, much less translate it. Do you know how to say it and it’s meaning?”

“Lucignolo?”

“Yes, that’s it!”

August’s eyes slid slyly towards Jefferson, the two of them sharing a conspiratorial look before the man confessed…

“It was actually my mother’s maiden name, and in Misthavenian, it means… Candlewyck.”

The Duke and his swan’s mouths dropped open and their gazes bounced, first to Jefferson - Priscilla… my late wife - and then to August - Lucignolo?... it means… Candlewyck, then uttered in perfect unison, “Bloody Hell,” as the two men held their fingers up to their lips and implored them to remain silent with a soft shushing sound before linking arms and strolling from the ballroom with self-satisfied smiles plastered to their faces.

The End

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

@kmomof4 @sals86 @jennjenn615 @darkcolinodonorgasm @artistic-writer @courtorderedcake @winterbaby89 @snowbellewells @heavenlyjoycastle @sunshine2632 @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @kday426 @cocohook38 @unworried-corsair @aprilqueen84 @tiganasummertree @ilovemesomekillianjones @ultraluckycatnd @wyntereyez @ultimiflos @superchocovian @qualitycoffeethings @facesiousbutton82 @theonceoverthinker @shardminds @skystar87 @teamhook @itsfabianadocarmo @xarandomdreamx @therealstartraveller776 @queen-serena88 @donteattheappleshook @jrob64 @therooksshiningknight @angellifedeath @karl0ta @melly326 @nadine200179 @xsajx @demisexualemmaswan @lfh1226-linda @alexa-fangirl-forever @klynn-stormz @onceratheart18 @monosalvatore16 @jonesfandomfanatic @ouatpost @spaceconveyor @natascha-ronin @zaharadesert @earanemith @dragonfireonthehorizon @strangestarlighttree @the-darkdragonfly @heratulipsia @pirateherokillian @sailtoafarawayland @captainirishstubble @uhthreeyuh @justanotherflailgirl @elizabeethan @xhookswenchx @youherotype @chinawoodfan @batana54 @fandomlovver @pcrcabcth @strangestarlighttree @captainswan21 @karlyfr13s

#cs ff #csff #cs fic #cs au #captain swan #cs bridgerton au #cs regency au #duke!killian #lady!emma #the duke and his swan #words by hollye

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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🖊Write-athon🖊 June 25/21

Fri-Sun: I’ll be writing from 12-8pm EST as part of the 24-hour Writeathon but you can send questions at anytime and I’ll do my best to answer.

You can ask me anything you like but if you are curious about what I’m trying to work on:

WIPS:

Heiress of Misfortune (dark!Lee Bodecker) - the sheriff takes an unwelcome interest your family's affairs.

The Pretender (dark!medieval!Peter Parker) - Lord Peter Parker grows suspicious of the new face with an old name at the royal court.

Run for Cover (dark!Steve) - your marriage to Steve Rogers is falling apart but he doesn't want to let you go.

Kona (dark!Viking Steve) - a widow shieldmaiden finds her mourning shadowed by another.

Chapters for Existing Fics:

Blue Jean Baby

Secrets

One Night

By the King’s Hand

Candy Coated

Ideas without commitment:

serial!killer Ransom

Ransom/Andy crossover inspired by “Beekeeper’s Daughter” by All-American Rejects

Mob AU with Thor, Loki, and Peter or Steve

a depressed and needy Superman

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patronusofthepugs · 5 years

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Support Group For The Kids That Never Grew Up

Modern Alice In Wonderland Fic Summary!

Tarrant Hightop is quite enjoying his carefree bachelor life until an adorable petite blonde lunatic literally comes crashing into his carefully disorganized mess of a life and throws everything delightfully off balance. Alice, a disgraced heiress with a seething hatred of flowers and Tarrant, a lumbering hat maker with a penchant for pyromania prank wars, are one of the most sickening couples that anybody had the misfortune to witness. They fall into each others lives with a disgusting amount of ease.

After only three blissful months of dating, Tarrant can already hear the wedding bells chiming in the distance. However, while Tarrant has practically a whole conveyor belt of emotional baggage, Alice has a state of the art walk-in-closet filled to the brim with countless of skeletons that she would do anything to keep hidden. She wants all of her past to be covered in a fine layer of dust and not be disturbed by the gorgeous prying green eyes of her brilliant boyfriend.

Of course nothing ever goes according to plan, and before Alice and Tarrant knows it, they are having their first proper couple fight. Two hours of smashed teacups and ruined wallpaper flies by before Alice flounces out of Tarrant’s quaint apartment and he commits himself to getting spectacularly hammered.

He barely lasts a day before he has Alice withdrawal symptoms and begins to curse himself for getting in such an awful fight with his dearest. By the third day with no word from Alice, he has fallen in such a pit of despair that he can’t see how he can ever even begin to live in this dreadful bland world that doesn’t have Alice.

By the fifth day, the fog in is his mind is starting to clear and he realizes that something is terribly wrong. This isn’t the result of a lover’s spat, but something sinister has taken Alice. She is probably desperately awaiting for Tarrent’s valiant rescue but just as Tarrant begins to rouse himself to action, he hears a very un- Alice like knock at his door.

Standing in his doorway, are three of Alice’s closest friends in the world. Which comes as quite a surprise to Tarrent, since he was under the impression that Alice didn’t actually have any friends.

He is also befuddled at the fact that Alice’s closest friends happened to all be male. Tarrent immediately takes a strong dislike to the dark, curly hair boy in Alice’s odd trio of friends, a shifty looking fellow named Peter Pan. This Pan fellow keeps smirking at Tarrent’s personal belongings and he is positive that he saw Peter’s nimble fingers swipe some valuable biscuits off the kitchen counter.

The other two wasn’t nearly as bad as the devious Pan but Tarrent doesn’t hold them in high regard either. One of them is an American, a lanky yank with outrageously gelled hair who keeps speaking rather slow as if he thinks Tarrent has little intelligence. He believes that the yank said his name was Calvin but honestly he’s not completely sure that he understood the obnoxious American’s drawl. The last guy is a rather sensible, gentle Brit named Christoper Robin who at least had the decency to explain how these miscreants knew his precious Alice. Apparently they were all in the same therapy support group when they were younger and evidently shared a rather close bond with one another.

This mismatched group actually came to Tarrant to accuse HIM of harming Alice in some way since they noticed she hadn’t been attending their weekly meetings. Tarrent immediately denounce such a preposterous suggestion that he would ever lay a finger on Alice. He is so eager to prove his innocence to these scoundrels that he demands they go over to Alice’s residence to check if she is there. However when they arrive, the group is aghast at the utter disarray and chaos of Alice’s apartment. Over Tarrent’s loud sobs and wails, Christopher Robin notices a crumpled brochure of a mental health facility located in Wales. Christoper Robin accurately deduces that Alice’s fiendish mother had her taken away to this facility in order to cure what ever illness she think Alice has.

In order to save Alice, Tarrent is forced to team up with a filthy biscuit thief, a pretentious American, and an introverted, rich kid. They will be forced to travel together in what will be no doubt a road trip from Hell, but Tarrent is willing to do anything to save Alice.

#Alice In Wonderland #alice kingsleigh #Tarrant hightopp #hattice #peter pan #christopher robin #Calvin and Hobbes #This is old but i wanted to give it a makeover #Disney #modern disney

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littlespacestars · 6 years

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Shallura Fic Rec #3

Time for another Shallura fic rec list! (categorized to the best of my ability)

Shallura Rec List #1

Shallura Rec List #2

Mulitchapter/Long Fics

(I’m including fics that have been updated/concluded since the last fic rec list)

Into the Woods - (3/3) - @andtheblueberrymuffin

Something wet and cold splatters against Allura’s cheek.

A moment later, a second drop lands on her forehead, and she groans, raising a hand to rub at her face. She feels… groggy, as though she just woke from a long, deep sleep. The wetness on her face makes no sense. She cracks her eyes open and finds that she is staring up at a gray sky, full of storm clouds, heavy with rain.

This is not where she last remembers being.

Or: The one where Allura and Shiro end up lost in space.

Slow burn, hurt/comfort, plot, huddling for warmth, mystery, feelings, gore related to hunting

The Princess and the Pilot - (5/?) - @ashesandhoney

In an alternate timeline, Shiro gets picked up by the Galra before the war starts and eventually ends up being given to the Princess of the Alteans as a joke or an attempt to start a war or as a mistake. Whatever their motive was for sending him, Allura is now left trying to figure out what to do with him.

Alternate universe, slow burn, prisoner Shiro

The Space Between Stars - (6/?) - wordswithdragons ( @shiroallura)

Stranded across the galaxy, Shiro and Keith must survive the cold blooded creatures that lurk upon the planet they crash landed on. Pidge, Hunk and Lance find themselves caught up on a Galra infested planet of winged aliens, while Allura and Coran face coming to terms with their greatest hope and sorrow: Altea. // A rewriting, fix-it fic of season two, featuring families, backstories, aliens, loss, and love. More info inside.

No Need To Say Goodbye - (1/1) - @smolsarcasticraspberry

The juniberry tree blossoms every seven years, and when it does, a gateway opens up to another world - a world that Shiro first explores as a child. There, he meets Allura. They do not speak the same language, but children do not need words to play. Every seven years, when the gateway opens again, Shiro steps through to visit the girl he knows on the other side. But the gateway only stays open as long as the juniberry flowers bloom...

AU, angst, childhood friends, reunion

Masks - (1/5) - @braincoins

Shiro screws-up and Allura has to cover for him by pretending they're married. This means Shiro is now involved in the negotiations with an alien race rumored to have sent the Galra packing. They could be a great help to the Coalition, so long as they're not offended or insulted in some way. So it's Allura's job to convince them to sign on, and it's Shiro's job to be her consort. Neither of those should be that difficult... right?

Fake/pretend relationship, semi-au, Fluff & Politics, pining!Shiro, the other paladins & Coran are here too but not as much

When We Were Young - (8/8) - @ashesandhoney

When they were young they had hidden under tables at embassy events and eaten stolen pieces of cake. They had climbed up onto the roof at school and made up stories about the teachers walking to their cars at the end of the day. They weren’t the same species but that had never stopped them before.

It’s been tens years since he last saw her.

Childhood friends, AU - canon divergence, marriage proposal, alien culture, no Voltron

Find Me In The Night - (2/2) - @smolsarcasticraspberry

"Ah, yes. Charged particles from your local star interact with the magnetic field of the planet in areas where the magnetic field lines are close together."

Shiro laughs, in spite of himself. She's the nerdiest princess he's ever met. Not that he's met many, of course. Or any at all, before her.

"We call it an aurora. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

***

When aliens land on Earth looking for a mysterious weapon under the Arctic ice, Captain Shirogane of the Galaxy Garrison is tasked with accompanying an alien Princess in her quest.

Mature, Shallura Holidays Month 2017, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Earth AU, winter fic

Touch - (3/3) - @ashesandhoney

The Sacred Alteans could bend quintessence to their whims but wielding that much power couldn't be consequence free.

Allura loses her sense of touch and has to learn to function without it.

A fic with scenes including: nearly bleeding to death, some angst over being the last of a species, fancy ballgowns and space pirates, tickling, sparring practice, Shiro being really into Allura wearing track pants, blow job jokes, quite a bit of pining, Allura glowing, some smut.

Explicit, mutual pining, fluff, mild hurt/comfort, AU - Canon Divergence, light angst

Of Small Talks and Forget-me-nots - (6/6) - Part 1 - Opl_Mor

Shiro has been chasing Allura since he was six and she stumbled into his land of make believe- his escape from the strain between his parents. A misfit pair with no one but each other try to navigate an often cruel and unforgiving world. Unfortunately, fate isn't always kind and sometimes pairs are pulled apart. This is a story of hardships and heartbreak, but more than that, it's about the power of mending those parts of life. This is about a modern princess saving a lonely boy in more ways than she could possibly know.

Childhood friends, friends to lovers, bullying, divorce, Shiro’s got a lisp, Allura is a ballerina black belt

Woman King - (20/20) - @juniperallura

Queen Allura rules over the Altean court, in the company of her young cousin Lance. As the bloody war with the Galra drags on, she searches for unlikely allies- including a supposed defector dwelling on the edge of the palace village. A Shallura historical/fantasy AU (with side Klance).

AU - historical, AU - fantasy, side Klance, light angst, slow burn, pining, mutul pining, secret relationship

When the Sun Sets - (4/?) - rainingWolf

Out of everyone in the entire galaxy, Shiro just so happened to chance upon Allura on a starry night. Set in a zombie apocalypse AU.

Zombie apocalypse, Zombie AU, romance, drama, action/adventure, angst, Altea, alien planet

Across the Universe - (2/?) - saintgenevieve

Allura takes a deep breath. “Pidge…what is a soulmate?”

“What?”

“Shiro told Keith I was his ‘soulmate,’ but I don’t really understand what that word means.”

Mature, Pining, serious pining and angst, Allura’s relationship with the paladins, friendship, love confessions, true love, grieving, some Klance

Loving the Alien - (3/?) - hatandgoggles

The story takes place in 1954, in a town in New Mexico. Roughly seven years after a mysterious object crashed into the nearby desert, a woman Shiro met that night returns to his diner when he needs it the most. Or will she only drag him into an adventure he never asked for?

AU - 1950s

Let Go Darling - (1/?) - evelyn_hayes

Allura blinks. She's suddenly outside, the pale moon shining down on her and the old house behind her. There's a man gripping her hand. Tall and shrouded in a peculiar jacket. His hood shadows his face, but she makes out a scar across his nose and a patch of white hair dangling from the front of his head. She searches his face and sees-

Black eyes.

Witch!Allura, Hunter!Allura, Demon!Shiro, alchemy, magic, crossover, feat. the IMPALA BABY, but in white, guadian demon, self-harm, road trips, true names, vassal and liege, angst, klance fluff, Shiro has PTSD, protective Shiro, implied/referenced abuse/torture, businessman Lotor

There is Love in Your Body (But You Can’t Get it Out) - (1/1) - @andtheblueberrymuffin

In the end, it doesn’t matter how exactly Shiro falls in love with Allura. He just does and it’s… Not a problem, exactly, but a consideration that lurks in the back of his thoughts. He doesn’t plan to do anything about it. They’re in the middle of a war. This isn’t the time for love. And even if it was, he is what he is and she is…. Beyond him.

Or: The one where mistakes were made and Shiro has to crash a wedding that shouldn't be happening in the first place.

Angst with happy ending, feelings, wedding crashing, emotional trauma is the real villain here

Duties of Heart - (1/1) - anglmukhii

They were both Jedi, but she was also a Queen. There were worlds of differences between them, yet they can only find peace and solace in each other. But between an Order that forbids it and her position that demands that if she marry, it must be for the good of her people: is there truly any hope for them?

AU - Star Wars Setting, break up, making up, angst, fluff, one fight scene, Jedi Shiro, Allura’s a Jedi too but she’s a queen as well, mentions of Keith, Shallura Secret Santa 2017

The Lost Kingdom (1/?) - littlewinterwonderland

"…in a single day and night of misfortune, the kingdom of Altea, perhaps the greatest civilization on earth, disappeared into the depths of the sea. It left behind only mystery, gloom and a boy with a heart made for the unknown"

Atlantis AU, Shiro is a nerd

Day to Day - (7/7) One-shot Collection - TKipani

Seven days when Shiro and Allura were a little more than paladin and princess. Series of drabbles/oneshots for Shallura Week 2016. These drabbles are sequential and connected.

Shallura Week 2016, sequential, the whole gang makes an appearance, drabbles and oneshots, connections, vague Klance if you squint

Lose It - (1/1) - viiisenya

Shiro is a decent enough hitman sometimes doubling as a thief, when the occasion (and payout) called for it. The last person he thinks would call for his services is influential businessman Alfor Altea of Voltron Inc., and what Shiro thought would be an easy job turned out to be a little more complicated thanks to one company heiress. He's usually the one that does the stealing but he didn't think he'd be the victim of a theft himself.

Hitman/thief AU, implied Klance, one-shot

We Were Young Once (We Are Young Again) - (1/1) - @andtheblueberrymuffin

They win.

In the aftermath, Shiro can’t quite wrap his mind around it. The war consumed every thought he had and every bit of his energy for so long that its sudden absence leaves behind a gaping hole. He expects to wake up, to find that Zarkon and Haggar are still out there and that the victory was just some cruel trick executed by his mind.

Or: The one where Shiro and Allura learn how to live outside of the war that's defined their lives for so long.

Slow burn, mutual pining, domestic fluff, post-war, recovery, some angst, arguing, emotional glowing

Throughout the Ages - (11/11) - MinnieTheMoocherDA

Shallura modern au where they've known each other since kindergarten. A collection of various one-shots depicting events in their lives as they grow up.

AU - Modern Setting, AU - High School, Keith and Shiro are adopted brothers, Allura and Lance are cousins

Fluff

Snooze Button - @alteanrituals (thesoulsikeep)

Mornings are the worst, especially after a battle.

Fluff, cuddling and snuggling, lazy mornings, established Shiro/Allura

Have a Magical Day - nayanroo ( @teslatricity)

The universe is mostly at peace again, and so it's time for its defenders to take a vacation. What better place to do that than Disney World?

Disney World & DisneyLand, established Shallura, minor background Klance, background Hunay, Allura doesn’t want any Mickey ears, she wants the right Mickey ears, and to kiss her boyfriend as much as possible

Compatible - thir13enth ( @ahumanintraining)

"I wonder what marks you would have, if you were Altean."

Fluff, exploration of a headcanon, beautiful beautiful fluff and cute humor

De-Stress - TKipani

Politics and battles are difficult, but Allura finds ways to de-stress. And Shiro is happy to help.

One-shot, battle sequences, fighting sequences, the couple that kicks ass together stays together, takes place sometime within season 4, ignores clone theory

Ice Deck - @ebonynightwriter

The Paladins awake to a chill in the Castleship – and a very different training deck.

Fun/Humor, ice skating, ship repairs, friendship, one-shot, canon universe, Shallura Month 2017

Just You and Me (Or Thank the Stars the Kids Aren’t Home) - thir13enth ( @ahumanintraining)

Domestic fluff, actual parents Shiro and Allura, ft. starrycove’s shallura children!

A Matter of Time - nayanroo ( @teslatricity)

The war's over, and the universe is starting to rebuild. As Allura leads the charge in forming new alliances, looking to the future, Shiro considers the kind of future he wants for them. But being a paladin means that your plans tend to go awry and your timing is never the greatest...

Shiro’s parents, engagement, Shiro is a bit of a disaster, he loves her so much y’all

“Shallura Fanfiction” - @clairelutra

Mutual pining/feelings, humor

Something Sparkly - @pensversusswords

“I’d love something sparkly,” Allura says.

Shiro is powerless when it comes to giving Allura what she wants.

First kiss, getting together, fluff, misunderstandings, Altean traditions

Contagion - @andtheblueberrymuffin

Based on my week, have some Shallura + paladins fluff wherein all the earthlings come down with the space flu and are not great patients.

Learn By Heart - @braincoins

It's Allura's first semester teaching, and she's prepared for anything ...except Takashi Shirogane.

Modern AU, Shallura Secret Santa 2017, College/University AU, hot for teacher, pining, fluff

Autumn Wishes - @juniperallura

For prompt "hold my hand/shooting star"

Shiro & Allura spend a day at the farm

Fluff, fluff without plot, Earth AU, Modern AU, fall vibes

Shiro and Allura Both Can’t Sleep - mckinlily

It is a generally held assumption that Shiro and Allura, both being unable to sleep, met up in the quiet of the night, and over the course pouring out their hearts to each other, fell in love. And while it is true neither Shiro nor Allura is very good at sleeping and they have met up at god-forsaken hours in the Castle, the heart-wrenching conversations are more a fiction than reality. This is due to the fact that—despite all attempts to appear otherwise—Shiro and Allura are actually both very young adults and just as susceptible terrible 2am ideas as anyone.

They do fall in love though. But it goes like this:

OR How Shiro and Allura got a lifetime ban from Hunk's kitchen and other fun stories.

Caught in the Act - @andtheblueberrymuffin

Established relationship, fic prompt, stuck in the elevator

Once Upon a December - RukiaG ( @rukia-g)

One-shots for Shallura Holiday Month. Some may be AU, some post-canon.

Shallura Holiday Month 2017, AU - bodyguard, Protect AU, AU - modern setting, AU - fairy tale, post-canon

Lost in Your Light - Cyan ( @vehicroids)

It hadn't been long at all since they found the blue lion, since they were all forced into an unknown part of the universe. Shiro struggled to sleep, thinking on it all. Thankfully, he wouldn't be alone that night.

Tooth-rotting fluff, fluff, traveling, post-canon, post-series, mutual pining, secret santa

Snow Angels - @bosstoaster (ChaoticReactions)

Advent Challenge, warm and fuzzy feelings, snow angels

Peace - @plumeriafairy14

Many decades in the future after team Voltron defeated the evil plagues of the Galra Empire, Allura sits in the palace gazebo with her husband, Shiro. They go through the photo albums they have collected over the years and Allura savors the intimate moment as the former Black Paladin holds her in his embrace while narrating the memory of each photograph.

Allura basks in his love and takes what she can; her time is running out, after all.

Future fic, Illness, bittersweet ending, Shiro and Allura as emperor and empress, minor Klance, reminiscing

The Aftermath - Rosey_Vasilia

After a particularly rough attempt to rescue a planet from Galra occupation, Shiro decides to try and help Allura stop blaming herself.

Background Klance, literally Shallura being soft, short fluffy one-shot, a mission goes wrong so Shiro comforts Allura

Basorexia - 13Vivacious13

It was ridiculous. Completely, utterly, inexplicably ridiculous. No one should want to kiss the back of someone's neck as much as she wanted to right now.

Movie night, space family time, fluff, pining

In a Snap - KatherineKatie ( @kittykattykatherine)

AU - Modern Setting, First dates, wingman, Keith means so well, snapchat, texting, light angst, flower shops, carnivals, humor, comedy, fluff

The Day Of - thir13enth ( @ahumanintraining)

in which Shiro tries to propose, but Allura is too confused to figure it out.

Definitely fluffy, marriage proposal, AU, Shiro’s parents

Artist’s Block - befuddle

Allura's suffering from artist's block, and Shiro just wants to help.

Artist and model AU, Modern AU

Sparkles - Meli_writes (@meli-writes)

Shiro wants to get out of the castle for a bit. When Allura agrees to go out with him he decides to get her something sparkly.

Space Mall, sparkly things, date, kisses, space dad, space mom, human vocab lesson, fluffy, cute, silly

Flight - littlespacestars (the shameless self-promo)

“Dad, I’m going to fly Blue!” A little girl speeds into the hangar with her arms out at her sides, triumphantly making a beeline towards the lions.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Shiro lifts his daughter away from the blue lion and props her on his hip, holding up a finger. “Just so we’re clear. I said Uncle Lance could fly Blue with you in his lap. This isn’t like you and me in Black.”

Lance strolls up behind them and leans against Blue, grinning from ear to ear.

“With a safety belt,” Shiro enunciates. “Lance.”

Tooth-rotting fluff, overprotective Space Dad, actual space parents, Uncle Klance, star babies, Shallura babies

Birthday - littlespacestars (the shameless self promo)

“Uh, Allura?” He doesn’t move an inch, only side glances at her and then back at the plump mouse standing upright on its hind legs. “There’s a giant—”

“Oh, don’t be alarmed, Shiro!” Allura sets aside her watering can and quickly scoops the stout mouse into her hands. She strokes the top of its head and gives it a fond smile. “This is just Platt, no need to worry.”

“Platt,” he repeats, still a little dumbfounded. “Okay, so it’s normal for you to have a yellow and green mouse. Noted.”

AU, minor angst, hurt/comfort, Shiro is human, Allura is still an alien, Shiro wants to celebrate her birthday, fluff, Shiro’s a dork, space mice, Shiro likes Lord of the Rings, Allura’s been stranded on Earth for six years now

Angst

Try Your Best (And Don’t Succeed) - mckinlily

Grief/mourning, Shiro has PTSD, Allura is a mess, Shiro is a mess, everyone is a mess but they’re trying the best they can, angst with a hopeful ending, set in season 2, gen or pre-slash, Allura-centric

Things Will Turn Out Fine - distinctive_pineapples (@obscure-sentimentalist)

“Would you mind telling me a story?” he asks, brushing a hand against the back of his head as if embarrassed by the request. “Maybe an Altean folktale, or something about your family. I… I’d just like to have something to remember you by.”

And oh, does that make her want to weep.

Future fic, Shallurangst, inspired by another show, angst with a happy ending, hopeful ending

Past and Future - @ebonynightwriter

During a Rebel training mission, Shiro and Allura are cut off from the group, and stranded on an unknown planet. Pushing to reunite with their team, they move forward, unaware of the dangerous forces around them…

Drama, tension, fighting, space battles, PTSD, psychological drama, mind control, mind games, developing relationship, feelings, one-shot, canon universe, season 4, Shallura Month 2017

S5 Shallurangst Drabbles - wordswithdragons ( @shiroallura)

this is a series of shallurangst drabbles posted to my tumblr over at shiroallura. do not all follow the same timeline, although many of them do fit together, the bottom three each individual takes of different possibilities set after s5. enjoy and maybe have tissues if you're weepy like me

Protect AU: I Have a Princess (and she has me) - killashilla

After a royal Altean gala is violently interrupted, Princess Allura and her bodyguard Shiro wait out the chaos alone while testing the boundaries of their strict roles in each others lives.

Shallura Protect AU, AU - bodyguard, AU - Real World, angst with feels, pining, mutual pining, blood and injury, undressing, forbidden love

I Miss You - SirFangirl

The princess who lost everything managed to lose something once more.

Angst, spoilers for season five, Allura knows a fake Shiro when she sees one but won’t admit it, the white lion knows what’s up, Shiro misses his friends and doesn’t deserve to suffer like this

Home (It’s in Her Hands) - palladioaigis

She's the light at the end of the tunnel, his everything, his home, and his love for her transcends time and space.

[[ Written for the Shallura zine Stars Aligned, Issue Two: Onwards.]]

Shallura Zine, Shiro needs therapy or a hug dammit, reunion

Stay With Me - nachseon

It’s not fair. It never is.

Angst, heavy angst, emotional hurt/comfort, mutual pining

Checkmate - rainingWolf

Shallura, Klance, drama, angst, action, romance, remix, VLD Fanfiction Remix 2017

Kintsukuroi - 13Vivacious13

Shiro is still coming to terms with the past. Allura notices and tries to help the best she can.

Emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending sorta, mentions of non-consensual body modifications, nothing too serious happens, I promise, mostly just reflecting on the past, established Allura/Shiro

Only Human - @bosstoaster (ChaoticReactions)

Collection of whump fics, tumblr prompt, leaning against walls to hide needing support, injury, hurt/comfort

Kuron/Clone Theory

Exchanges - thir13enth ( @ahumanintraining)

no returns, no refunds.

Clone theory, some angst

The Return of the Real Shiro - Meli_writes ( @meli-writes)

The real Shiro returns to the castle and finds a man with HIS face pretending to be HIM.

In his search to find a paladin he runs into Allura and he's so relieved because that last he heard from her she was screaming in pain.

Now, he has to explain that he is the real Shiro not that phony walking around the castle.

Shallura hugs, the real Shiro, Shiro returns, from wherever

Gravity - @braincoins

He looked at the clone. Monster, he thought. You didn’t mean to be, didn’t even want to be, but that’s what you are. He couldn’t help thinking that perhaps he and this clone had more in common after all.

Shallura Month 2017, angst, emotional hurt/comfort

Clone - littlespacestars (shameless self-promo)

Kuron is aware he’s a clone. He tries deciding whether or not to come clean to Allura about it, or let it surface on its own.

Shallurangst, One-sided attraction, Kuron wishes he were the real Shiro, angst

Like Real People Do - (5/5) - @andtheblueberrymuffin (Part 1 of Like Real People Do)

“Shiro knows this is wrong. Everything is wrong. But they need him. Keith said so, and Shiro knows, he knows, that if they need him he has to help them. It’s what he would do. It’s what he does. (Everything is fine.)

Or: The one where something is very wrong with Shiro after his second escape from the Galra.”

Tragedy, Post-Season/Series 03, Speculation about Shiro post season 3, ‘Shiro’, Implied/Referenced mind control, mind control aftermath & recovery, clone Shiro, prepare your tissues and cry deeply

Survivor's Rites (3/3) - (Part 2 of Like Real People Do) - @andtheblueberrymuffin

The Paladins have suffered losses before, but nothing quite like the one they're dealing with now. It's difficult to find the time to grieve when dealing with betrayals and Lotor's continued attacks. None of them are well-equipped to move on, in any case.

Or: the sequel to 'Like Real People Do.' Now with more misery.

Past character death, grief/mourning, post season 3, lion swapping, angst

Heartlines (8/8) - (Part 3 of Like Real People Do) - @andtheblueberrymuffin

After months of searching, Shiro has finally found his way back to the Castle of Lions, but nothing is quite how he remembers it. Everyone looks at him like they're seeing a ghost, for one thing....

Or: the conclusion to the 'Like Real People Do' series, where the fallout from the Galra Empire's experiments with human cloning nearly destroys everything the team has worked so hard to build. Takes place directly after the end of 'Survivor's Rites.'

Angst, emotional hurt/comfort, normal hurt/comfort in later chapters, clones, lion swapping, trauma, grief/mourning, plot, slow build, post season 3, implied/referenced underage drinking, original character death(s), attempted sexual assault, DOES NOT GET FAR

NSFW

Unconventional Piloting Methods - Pixie_rings ( @materassassino)

Flying a giant robot lion while having sex isn't the best idea.

Unsafe flight practices, do not attempt at home, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, higher than the mile high club

Make You Feel Pure - sublimation ( @667-darkavenue)

“After all he’d been through, it couldn’t be clearer that universal forces had bent themselves backwards to pull him into the orbit of someone who cared for him, who trusted him, and who needed his care and trust just as much...”

Pool sex, breast play, outercourse, oral sex, praise kink, attention kink, praise kink, body worship, existential crisis midsex, stumbling upon all the embarrassing kinks you’re into midsex, sex with your girlfriend so good it opens your third eye, soft dom Allura

Playlist - befuddle

“If there’s anyone to blame for cockblocking, blame your shitty taste in music!”

Domestic AU where Shiro tries to get his groove on, and Allura just isn't having it.

Sex in public, car sex, fluff

Infomercials - befuddle

“We need it! We can’t keep replacing my bedframe at the crack of a new quintant to avoid suspicion. This will solve all our problems!”

Not graphic, suggestive content, humor, Shiro and Allura keep breaking the bedframe, this is the Shallura discord’s fault, the Shallura discord’s legacy, shitpost

Incandescent - CalicoTomcat

Shiro and Allura share an intimate evening and morning together, savoring a peaceful moment on the Castle of Lions.

Established relationship, oral sex, vaginal sex, genital piercing, fluffy and adorkable

Belong To You Alone - sublimation ( @667-darkavenue)

“Smile back, ask questions about him, go along with his suggestions. You’ve seen me do it.”

He thought it over. “Isn’t that… We have to leave in a day, with or without the army.”

“Oh, Shiro.” Allura smiled. “He’s not trying to ask for your hand, he just thinks you’re nice to look at. It’s harmless.”

“Well. I’ll give it a shot.”

When Shiro gave something a shot, he didn’t hold back.

Space politics, throwing Shiro under the bus as sexy leverage, blow jobs, frustration, jealousy, smut w/ plot, attention kink, praise kink, misunderstanding & miscommunication

Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts - Meli_writes ( @meli-writes)

Allura has always wondered what The Paladins meant when they shouted things like: "Fuck you!" or "Suck my dick!" in the middle of a fight against Zarkon's army. One night she asks Shiro what it all means and he tries his best to explain. ;)

Funny, sexy, dirty talk, dirty thoughts, angst, smut, embarrassed Shiro, flirty Allura, sexy Shiro

Alien Anatomy Altean - FeyduBois

Shiro and Allura's first time does not go as planned due to differences in biology.

Alien sex, alien biology, anal fingering, crack, smut

Une Petite Mort Thermique - pixie_rings ( @materassassino)

The one sexual taboo Altea had, and she is about to break it.

Anal sex, alien biology, kink meme

Just So I Can Feel Something - @smolsarcasticraspberry

Sometimes you can't sleep and the only thing that helps is fucking your co-worker in the break room cos you haven't been kissed in 10,000 years.

OR: that time after Crystal Venom when Shiro and Allura hooked up on the sofas and tried to act like it didn't mean anything.

"Allura took a sip of her tea, hoping the hot steam would hide her blush, and leaned over to put her mug down on the coffee table. Her body shifted with the movement, and her hand drew away from Shiro's. To her surprise, his fingers tightened around her own. As if he didn't want to let go.

She glanced down at his hand where it gripped hers, and then up at his face.

"Sorry," he said. "I just… I haven't been touched in a long time. It's nice.""

Smut, fluff, flut, porn with feelings, post Crystal Venom, canon compliant

Reunited - bittergoldilocks

Before Shiro disappeared they had been at the beginning of a tentative relationship which had amounted to stolen kisses, secret meetings, hushed affections, and one adventurous encounter in a supply closet. When “Shiro”- the clone- had “returned”, Allura thought it was over. Not only did the meetings stop, eventually even the kind words did too. She had been devastated. And Shiro seemed to somehow understand this now.

Reunion sex, praise kink, crying, slight angst, Real Shiro, love confessions

Relinquish - @braincoins

The Coalition's newest allies are annoying and picky and Allura's on the verge of losing her cool with them. Shiro steps in to give her a night away from responsibility and decision-making.

softdom!Shiro, oral sex, fingering, how to be sweet and loving while also fucking someone senseless, and also still be goofy dorks

She Still Pulls on Me - nayanroo ( @teslatricity)

some nights, shiro can't sleep. on those nights, allura sets aside her crown.

Mention of nightmares, throne sex, shallura exchange

To the New Morning - babyfairy ( @babyfairybaekhyun)

Morning showers are often Shiro’s favorite kind of showers.

PWP, smut, shower sex, fluff

Relaxing - head_and_heart

Shiro has an idea of how to help Allura relax after a long mission

Porn without plot, oral sex, vaginal fingering, sex, no excuse for this just smutty smut

Silk and Tongue - Meli_writes ( @meli-writes)

“I have something in mind that I think you’ll enjoy, want to try it?,” he asked her again. She was flushed and her pink body marks glowed a little brighter from her arousal.

“What did you have in mind because I kind of like it here,” she said while she rocked her hips to grind against him.

He smirked and brought his hands to rest on her hips. “I like you there too, but I was thinking you might like doing that against my mouth,” he said.

Allura’s hips stopped, but Shiro noticed her breath quicken in excitement.

Pure smut, silk robes, hungry licks, porn without plot, Allura tries something new, shameless smut

Galaxies Collide - @smolsarcasticraspberry

Shiro and Allura take a joyride in the Black Lion. IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

Mind Link AU, flut, smut, some plot, dom Shiro, not super dom, but like a lil bit, soft dom Shiro, they’re gonna bang in the Black lion okay, it was inevitable

Please support these lovely writers and give them some kudos and a comment! I actually discovered a lot of fics I haven’t gotten around to fully reading yet, so I need to go back and do the same! Thanks for the lovely fics, guys! <3

#shallura fic rec #shallura #fic recs #shiro #allura #takashi shirogane #princess allura #vld #voltron #I would put a READ MORE thing on this but when I do it screws up the text??#fml #idek guys #i'M SORRY

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cinewhore · 1 year

Text

The Heiress of Misfortune - chapter one

Pairing: blackfem!OC Josephine Wellington & Sherlock Holmes & John Watson

Rating: teen

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Josie has the honeymoon from hell. Sherlock gets his first case in months.

A/N: ..and we’re off! hope you all like this. Credit to the gif maker.

The blood rushing through Josie’s ears roared louder than the ocean that surrounded the cruise liner. She attempts to steady her breathing, clasping her shaking hands together. This isn’t how honeymoons are supposed to go. She was supposed to be laughing with her head thrown back, hand over her heart, tears in her eyes over something Theo whispers in her ear. Dodging his roaming hands during dinner when he slips it under the table. Sneaky frenzied kisses within the shadows of the corridors.

Theo.

Josie couldn’t stomach removing the pillow from over his face. The once crisp white sheet was now soaked in a crimson red and Josie didn’t know what to do. Should she check his pulse? No, that was stupid seeing as at least a quarter of his blood covered the bed and the floor. At least she should throw a blanket over his body as a sign of decency. If only she could get her feet to move.

Slowly stepping out of her boots, Josie tiptoes over to the bed, choking back bile that threatened to spill from her throat.

“I’m so sorry, Theo.” she sobs, carefully taking the discarded towel off the edge of their bed and placing it over his body.

The door to their suite suddenly opens, a maid bursting through with new linens in her hands. Josie remembers that earlier that morning she requested newer linens because Theo is a klutz who can barely hold his wine sometimes. She forgot that she told the young woman, Rita, that she and Theo would likely be out enjoying last minute activities so she could just come in and drop them off. Bad idea on Josie’s part.

The woman's screams echoed throughout the entire suite, clean sheets forgotten as they tumbled from her hands.

“Rita, please, get some help!” Josephine shouts.

The maid stumbles backward before darting down the hallway.

That was all Josie could remember. She could barely recount the rest of her trip, pulling into the harbor or the swarm of police that gathered her up and carried her off of the ship.

In just a span of a week, Josephine Wellington had become a bride and a widow.

. . . . . . . .

The holding cell wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t cold and damp. Josie pulls her cloak around her tighter, adjusting the hood to cover her face more securely.

It didn’t matter how many times Josie recounted the tale of what happened, Scotland Yard wouldn’t hear of such a thing. All they knew was that Josie was found in the room with Theo’s body, covered in his blood, and no one else saw a thing.

Josie looks down at her hand, the wedding ring still snug on her finger. It was the only thing that truly felt familiar during this particular time. She remembers how bashful Theo became as they strolled the park after a family dinner, her hand tucked in the crook of his elbow.

“Close your eyes” he whispered in her ear, halting their casual walk. Josie protests but with enough prodding, she acquiesces.

“Ok, now, turn around.”

She does as she’s told, face washed over in shock as she observes Theo on one knee. Her heart pounded, mouth gone dry. This can’t be happening.

“Theo Callahan whatever it is that you’re doing, I beg of you to get up.”

Theo smirks, readjusting his position. “You’ve managed to capture my heart, my spirits, my wallet.” It was true, Theo did not care about money. Whatever Josie wanted, all she had to do was ask.

“I can’t imagine the rest of my days without you by my side. I want to experience life with you forever. Josephine Alexandra Wellington, will you do me a great honor and marry me?”

Theo pulls a box out of his coat pocket, opening it up to reveal the most gorgeous diamond ring. The band was gold, engravings of my beloved inscribed on the inside. He waits expectantly.

“Theo, I-”

“Oi!”

Josie snaps out of her daydream, head turning toward the main gate of the jail yard. An office comes strolling towards her, shoulders pulled back. If his face matched his cocky attitude, Josie might’ve paid him more attention. He points a stubby finger at her.

“Alright, missy. Your bail has been posted, looks like you’re outta here.”

Josie sighs heavily, picking up her skirts and following the man over to the gates, ignoring the mocking and sneering looks from the men around her.

Josie feels a sense of hope filling her chest, excited at the prospect of seeing a familiar face. The budding smile drops as she’s escorted out, two men awaiting her. None of which were her father or uncles. She would’ve even accepted an associate of the family.

“Mr. Holmes, Doctor.” The man snorts, hocking before spitting in the grass nearby.

The two men nod at the officer before looking back at Josie. She balls her hands into fists, preparing for the worst outcome.

“Who are you?”

The mustached man smiles, the other one does not.

“Justice.”

. . . . . . . .

The carriage ride proved to be even less insightful than the initial meeting, Holmes and Watson sniping at each other constantly.

The carriage pulls to the right and Sherlock stares at Watson.

“Why are we not going home?”

“We are going home. We’re going to my home. Your place is a mess.”

Sherlock turns up his nose, lounging back in his seat like a petulant child. “Did the nanny tell you that?”

John cocks his head. “Mrs. Hudson is concerned about you, is all. You’ve barely left the flat in months.”

“Yes, well, there’s nothing of importance to me out here or on earth, entirely.”

“Such a drama queen.”

John turns to Josie. “My apologies, Mrs. Wellington. I’m John Watson and this here is my partner, Sherlock Holmes.”

Gears start to turn in Josie’s head. “Oh, I’ve heard of you before. You solved that Blackwood case. Nasty business that was, I heard.”

“Partners?” Sherlock grumbles.

This was off to a great start.

. . . . . . . .

John swings the door open to his house, wobbling over to the coat rack. “Honey, I’m home!”

The swishing of skirts and clicking of heels brings a wide smile to John and a raised eyebrow followed by a slight scowl from Sherlock.

A gorgeous woman appears, dressed in the finest gown Josie had ever seen. It didn’t resemble anything that she would normally procure from the market. Her brown skin glowed in the light, tight coils unbothered and free to move about as they please. Josie didn’t even realize her jaw had dropped a little until Sherlock pushed her mouth closed with his index finger.

The lady’s brown eyes narrow in amusement, taking in Josie’s unkemptness and Sherlock’s standoffish demeanor.

“John, what have I told you about bringing in strays?”

Her voice was strong and melodic, a strange twang present that Josie had never heard before.

John makes his way over to her, pulling her in by the waist and pecking her lips. “Come now, darling, don’t be so crass. May I introduce you to Josephine Wellington.” he gestures to Josie.

“I wasn’t referring to her, my love, I was referring to that.”

Sherlock turns his nose up, tossing his coat carelessly onto an arm chair and strolling over to Watson's wife. He circles around her like a shark, eyes taking in every inch.

“Witch.”

The woman’s face breaks out into a small smirk.

“Idiot.”

John sighs, giving Josie an apologetic look.

“Anya.”

Anya bursts into a fit of giggles, flashing her pearly whites. “I am only joking, mostly.” She focuses her gaze back on Josie, frowning a bit. “And what’s this? Does Sherlock have a new friend?”

Sherlock mimics her, snatching up a biscuit from a platter laid out on the coffee table. John shakes his head, sighing loudly.

“I’m spoken for, I’m afraid.” Josie says. “Or, I was.”

Anya is no dummy and can deduce that something was amiss. She thought it best to leave it be, this was John and Sherlock’s area and she made it a clear rule from the start that she would never get involved with their crime solving. Whatever was going on, she trusted that John would let her know if they were in any danger.

“Well, I can see that very important conversations need to be had. I’ll go get some tea.”

Anya leaves the room without another word, only sharing a knowing look with John in passing.

The trio retreats to the living room, Watson making himself at home in his favorite chair. Gladstone happily trots over and plops himself down by his owner’s feet.

Anya returns shortly with a tray of tea, setting coasters out among the coffee table. Josie tries not to peek at the loving couple, watching their quiet mannerisms and fleeting touches. Watson regards his wife highly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he looks on while she pours everyone a cup. His fingers drift by her elbows, gently grazing the fabrics of her dress. Josie adverts her eyes, picking at her own hands instead.

John notices that Anya sets the table for three and not four. “You’re not taking tea?”

Anya shakes her head. “I’m afraid not, darling, I’m swamped with orders. Morgan is still upstairs waiting for me to return.”

“If you mind my asking,” Josie starts. “What is it that you do?”

“She makes clown costumes.” Sherlock interjects. Anya ignores his jest.

“I’m a designer.” She stands to her full height, giving a small twirl. “I made this myself.”

“It’s absolutely stunning.” Josie comments. “I’ve never seen designs like this before. You should consider going shopping in France, they have wonderful gowns there.”

“It would be an honor.” Anya genuinely beams. She steals a kiss from Watson before setting off up the stairs.

Watson and Holmes share a look, to which John shakes his head. “Don’t.”

“I wasn’t.”

“But you wanted to.”

“Perhaps.”

Josie picks up her cup of tea, inhaling the aroma prior to taking a sip. “I don’t mean any offense, Mr. Holmes, but I don’t understand why my family hired you for this case.”

Sherlock’s face doesn’t change as Watson hands him a cup of tea that he doesn’t drink, setting it to the side instead.

“Oh, your family didn’t hire me. Your bloody, bludgeoned husband did.”

Josie’s tea cup rattles as she sets it down on the table, hand clutching at her throat. “I don’t understand…why would Theo do that?”

“That’s what we’re hoping to find out.” John answers confidently.

“We?” Sherlock looks to his friend. His only friend. “We ended when you married that sorceress who has likely put something in that tea which causes you to enter some sort of…zombie-like state.”

Sherlock quickly grasps his own tea, tossing the liquid out in a potted plant. Bringing the newly emptied cup to his nostrils, he sniffs it deeply. “I have yet to deduce what it is exactly as I can only smell the awful overpowering of chamomile.”

“You’re giving me a headache.” Was all that Watson replied. He returns his gaze to Joise who has gone stiff.

“I didn’t kill him, you must understand.” She whispers.

“I believe you.” Watson tells her softly. While Sherlock was excellent at reading people like a book, John had a better sense of gathering their emotional state, seeing them for who they really are. He could tell that Josephine was no cold blooded killer.

“The locket you are wearing, currently being concealed in your bosom, your dead husband did not give it to you.” Sherlock states. He gets up out of his chair, hands locked firmly behind his back as he begins to pace the floor.

“I am confused.” Josie says, eyes flickering to John for help. He merely shrugs.

“Theo came from a family of women who preferred gold over silver. The Callahan’s have a huge hand in the goldmine that is overtaking parts of California and any jewelry henceforth have come directly from the source, that explains the wedding ring on your finger but not the locket around your neck. Certain women, women who were bred to navigate the social hierarchy that is marriage-“ the word comes out strained. “Understand that love is stored on your ring finger but women who truly love are under the assumption that it is better held closer to the heart. So I say to you again, Ms. Wellington, the locket is not a gift from Theo.”

Josephine blinks rapidly, removing her idling hand from her neck and using it to smooth down her dress. A nervous tick. “Your assumption is correct, Mr. Holmes.”

“It is not an assumption if it is something I already knew.” The enigmatic detective mutters to no one in particular.

“It was gifted to you by another lover. Were you having an affair?” Sherlock tuts. “No, no. Don’t answer that. Of course you were. The only difference is that this was no other man, it was a woman.”

John grimaces.

Josephine clutches her hands together as if she were in prayer. “Please, you don’t understand-“

“You’re right, I don’t. Not yet, anyhow.”

“Holmes, I think we should give Ms. Wellington some space.” John tries to argue.

“Please, refer to me as Josie.”

John nods his head. Sherlock continues.

“It is distasteful for a woman of your caliber to be romantically involved with another of the same sex but it is nothing a common blackmail couldn’t handle…Theo doesn’t fit the mold. Why doesn’t the bloody bastard fit? Watson!”

John rolls his eyes and sighs, twisting his head over to look at Sherlock. “Why are you yelling, I’m right here!”

“What is the time?”

John checks his watch. “Half past nine, why?”

Sherlock does not answer him as he strolls out of the room and out of the front door, stepping promptly on just the thing he was looking for. He enters the room again, this time with a slight smile on his face.

“What is the matter with you?” John’s voice drips with annoyment at his friends' antics.

“This is why he doesn’t fit.”

Sherlock drops the daily paper down on the coffee table, it connects with a soft thud. Josie gives out a small cry, hastily setting down her teacup before running out of the room. John carefully picks up the paper, surveying the headline.

“WELLINGTON” SOCIALITE WHO MURDERED HUSBAND KNOWN CON ARTIST.”

#rdj sherlock holmes #rdj sherlock holmes & john Watson #John Watson #sherlock holmes 2009 #sherlock holmes #blackfem!oc #fic: the heiress of misfortune

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