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let-it-raines · 5 years

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Betting on the Bullseye (24/30)

Summary:Emma Swan loses a drunken bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush - if you can call him that - to be her date to her office’s annual fundraising gala for Boston’s Children Shelter. Killian Jones is that celebrity. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost all because of the ridiculousness of the situation.

What she doesn’t expect is for him to say yes.What she truly doesn’t expect is to actually like the man.

Rating: Mature

A/N: You guys are continuously awesome, and I appreciate you!

As an FYI, I have this story completely written now, down to the last word, so if anyone was worrying about that, you don’t have to! But mostly I wanted to let you guys know that I’m going to be out of town for a week, so there won’t be any updates next week (but maybe an extra one this week)💕

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tag list: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @artistic-writer @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @galaxyzxstark @lifeinahole27 @andiirivera @ultimiflos @hollyethecurious @thejollyroger-writer @superchocovian @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @notoriouscs

“Happy birthday,” Killian hums against her neck, kissing the sensitive skin and rubbing his chin into her. She claims that it doesn’t tickle her, but it always does. He hopes it’ll work to wake her up since nothing else will today. “Your alarm has been going off for fifteen minutes.”

“Hmm,” she mumbles, twisting to the side and burying her face in his bare shoulder, ignoring the sound of her alarm like she has been while he’s listened to it wondering just how long she’s going to sleep through it. He swears sometimes it’s like she’s dead to the world. Other times she’s woken up by a whisper of a touch. There’s no in between for her. “That doesn’t sound real.”

“It is, darling,” he promises, nudging her stomach with his knee until she flips back onto her pillow, opening one eye while she stares up at him. He knows that he’s got a smirk on his face, that she probably finds him to be obnoxious, but he’s been awake for longer than her. He’s not nearly as annoyed by life as she is. Then again, the only work he has to do today is finish up packing Emma’s things to take to the new place this weekend. He can fall back asleep as soon as she leaves for work and not have to get dressed until they go out for her birthday tonight.

“Can you go to work for me? I would love you for the rest of my life.”

“While that’s a promising offer, I’m just not sure that it’s worth it.”

“Hey,” she protests, opening up her other eye as her lips part, her teeth showing the slightest bit before she presses them together again.

“Just speaking the truth.” He leans over in the bed and quickly slants his lips over hers, waiting for her to open up to him until he can make it a little deeper, leisurely exploring her mouth and waking her up as he gets lost in the kiss and the way that Emma’s nose is buried in his cheek, her hand softly gripping in his hair. God, he loves when she messes with his hair. “You need to get up and get ready.”

“I can stay in bed for thirty more minutes if I don’t shower.”

“Yeah, but you won’t want to shower after work and before we go to dinner, so you should shower now to get it over with.”

She rolls her eyes at him, but when he kisses the tip of her nose, he can see her smile despite the still dimmed lighting in the room. “I don’t like that you’re reasonable.” “You do. I promise. Now go get ready, Swan.”

She mumbles and groans, but eventually she gets out of bed and turns the damn alarm off before she heads into her bathroom to shower. He’s a bit of an arse, so he doesn’t bother getting out of bed even though he should likely fix her breakfast since it’s her birthday and she hasn’t been too happy about turning twenty-nine. Knowing her, though, she won’t want to eat anything but a yogurt with how late she’s running, so he’ll make her food some other day. It’s the least he can do if he’s going to be up anyways.

He’s only been staying with Emma for a week and a half, and they’re still in her old apartment until the furniture they’ve bought gets moved to their place. It’s got a new mattress and bedframe like they both wanted and a couch, but everything else is still shipping or they haven’t found what they wanted yet. It was a pretty quick turnaround on buying the apartment in Seaport, so they weren’t exactly expecting to be able move in so quickly. He was expecting to have at least a few more weeks, but after they closed on the place, he called Robin and Will to help him pack up his clothes and a few personal items from home. It’s a bit of a disconnect walking into a place he’s lived for years and seeing it furnished only to turn a corner and realize that the books on his shelves are missing along with some of the photo frames he had on the side table in his study. He was going to leave them, but he wanted some personal mementos.

His clothes were easy enough to pack, especially since he only packed his winter things for the next few months, but that odd feeling of emptiness washed over him when he noticed that only his shorts and some swim trunks remained. That emptiness went away when he was hanging his things and a few of Emma’s in their closet, one that they get to share, and those awful Christmas sweaters they both own were hanging side by side, green tassel sticking out against all of the black and navy clothes that he owns. He’d never get rid of them, though. They mean too much to the both of them, so they’ll stay hanging in the closet.

God, it’s both weird and wonderful that they’re getting to share everything in a home together.

The wonder is most definitely going to fade once they get into an argument over the dishes or making the bed every day, but he doesn’t care in the slightest.

Maybe he’ll go buy those barstools Emma saw when they went shopping on Sunday. She’d really liked those, but they weren’t sure if the stools were the right size. He checked, and they are. That’d likely be a nice surprise, especially if he gave them to her today.

Barstools for his girlfriend’s birthday present. It’s what every woman wants.

Or a necklace with a pearl pendant hanging at the end of the chain because gifts are difficult and Emma never wants anything. He’d seen her look at the necklace, though, and she’d run her fingers over her collarbone for awhile after she saw it. It’s simple and beautiful, and he thinks Emma will like wearing it most days just so that she has something to fidget with. She’s always doing that with her earrings or bracelet, so a necklace should be nice, right?

A necklace and some barstools. And this hot chocolate basket that he’s been putting together, her swan mug hidden away in it. For someone who claims that it’s her favorite mug, she sure as hell doesn’t notice when it’s missing for weeks on end.

Yeah, those should be fine things to give her before tonight.

He donated some money to her work and to a few of her favorite charities, but he’s not going to tell her about them. He thought about it, but it doesn’t quite seem right. They’re in her honor and will help out a lot of people who need the help, and that’s all that matters to him.

He hears the water shut off in the bathroom, and he takes that as his cue to get finally get out of bed, throwing the covers off of his legs and slowly moving off of the old mattress so he can get some sweatpants out the suitcase he’s living out of, pulling them on and up over his hips so he won’t freeze while moving out to the kitchen. He may not make her breakfast, but he can at least make her some coffee so she won’t be cranky at work.

Coffee would also be really nice for him. Emma’s alarm went off for far too long, and he can feel the slightest pounding against his temple.

“Do you think it would be too obvious if I called in sick to work?” Emma ponders as she walks into the room a few minutes later, a towel still wrapped around her head but her lashes coated in mascara and face powdered so that her freckles have faded. “I mean, they know it’s my birthday, but people get sick on their birthdays. It’s just a day.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, the liquid still a little too hot from his lack of creamer, and shrugs his shoulders while Emma grabs a mug out of the cabinet and starts making her cup.

“You could, but if you don’t go to work, your other option is to stay here with me and pack up your belongings.”

“I mean, packing is very sexy. I could stay and we could forget about packing for you to give me all of your love and attention since it is my birthday after all.”

“For someone who has been dreading this day, which you literally just said is only a day on the calendar, you’re really milking it.”

“I am indeed,” she smiles, holding up the carton of milk she just got out of the fridge. Emma Swan, a woman who doesn’t like to let bad jokes pass by her. “I just don’t want to go to work. I’m working with Kathryn all day and blegh.”

“Did you just say the word blegh instead of making the sound?”

“Yep.”

“Weird.” “Debatable.”

“I’m sorry you have to work with Kathryn, but hopefully she won’t be that bad today. And I feel like you’re going to have a good day today, signing your new contract and all that, you badass of a woman.” He takes a step toward her and leans down to brush a kiss across her temple, knowing the toothpaste on her tongue won’t mix well with the coffee. He loves her and is proud of her for negotiating a raise that she deserves for her time there and for all the good work she’s done this year, but her really is not a fan of toothpaste mixed with coffee. “And when all is said and done today, I promise I’ll give you all of my love and attention.”

“That’s all I ask.”

When Emma leaves for work, he takes a quick shower and gets dressed to go to Gold and Williams to pick up some of the furniture they saw the other day. He’ll pack later. He’d honestly just feel better if he went ahead and got the furniture now, mixing in with the morning crowd on the train as he makes his way to the south end. He’s still got some work to go on navigating Boston, but he’s figuring things out. It’d help if he had a car here, but he doesn’t want to buy another one when he has a perfectly good car back in California. Then again, it’s either leave it there or take a road trip across the country every time he travels.

That would be ridiculous. The miles and time alone.

Maybe he’ll get Emma to take a road trip with him when she has off for Thanksgiving since they’re spending it with his family so that they can spend Christmas with Emma’s. Or maybe he’ll simply become a master of taking the train.

Or he could ship his car across the country. That’s a thing.

It takes a few minutes in the store for him to find the barstools, telling the man who’s helping him, Eric, that he wants four of them before he wanders throughout the rest of the store, looking at the chairs for the living room they’d both liked the other day. It’s odd shopping without Emma, but then again, she did most of their apartment viewing by herself so a chair seems like a much smaller thing. They can always return it if it doesn’t fit, but he likes the blue velvet and gold accented frames that surround them to go with the light gray of their couch. By the time he’s left the store he has put in orders for the barstools, arm chairs, lamps for their bedside tables, and a loveseat to sit at the foot of their bed all to be shipped to their apartment. He knows that Emma liked the loveseat because he distinctly remembers her sitting down on it and tracing her finger over the teal material and talking about how good it would look with the blue and green accents on the pillows on their bed.

He’s never thought this much about interior decorating, but Emma is having such a blast starting with a clean slate that he’s enjoying it. He likes watching everything come together too.

The rest of his morning is spent packing up Emma’s apartment, sectioning off her clothes and tying them up in bags so they’ll be easier to unpack. All of her dishes but a few they’ll need over the next few days go into boxes, wrapped in bubble wrap, and he makes note of the appliances she’s missing. He’ll ship some of his things from home here. He won’t need a fully stocked kitchen some place he’s not living full time, and there’s no need to buy more plates when he and Emma eat out off of paper plates most of the time anyways.

Maybe they need a few more plates for when they have guests. He’s thinking about flying out Liam, Elsa, and Aiden for Christmas and having them stay over so that they can meet everyone. Of course, he’ll have to fly in Anna and Kris as well. He could offer to fly in Anna and Elsa’s parents, but they’re apparently visiting after the holiday.

It’s something to think about, though.

When he tackles her shelves, that’s an animal in and off itself. She’s got everything marked for keep or donate since nothing in her apartment can stay here, and honestly, he’s a little confused by some of the markings. There are several rocks that don’t look like anything, but Emma has them marked to keep so he packs them away. He assumes Leo has given them to her, but he’s honestly got no idea.

The music on his phone stops playing as it rings, and he reaches to the side and slides his finger across the screen, tapping the speaker so he doesn’t have to pick it up.

“Hey, Will.”

“Why the bloody hell do you have me watering these plants if you don’t even live here anymore? Can’t I just let them die?”

“Nice to hear from you too,” he scoffs, wrapping up a picture frame. “And yes, you have to water them until I get them moved to Liam’s or Rob’s. Or yours. I think you’re rather fond of the plants, mate.”

“I don’t like your bloody plants.”

“It’s okay to like the plants. They’d make your apartment look less like a bachelor lives there.”

“A bachelor does live there.”

“Seriously, take the plants with you.”

“If I take the plants with me, then you won’t pay me to water them.”

“Technically I also pay you to dust, but you never do that.”

“I’m not your maid. I’m your friend.”

“Who likes the money I pay you out of the goodness of my heart for helping me with my house.”

“You’re the most generous man in all of Hollywood,” Will chuckles as the distinctive sound of the ceiling fan in Killian’s study spins. It’s got this thing where it clicks if it spins too quickly. He needs to fix that. “What are you doing today? You got plans? Rob, Rol, and I are going to watch the Kings play later. You want to join us from afar?”

“What time?”

“Six our time.”

He clicks his tongue as he wraps another frame that’s filled with a picture of Emma holding both Leo and Brody the day after Brody was born. God, that had been such an awful day for him, but Emma looks so besotted with those boys that it doesn’t even matter. It worked out for them anyways. They worked it out.

“I can’t,” he admits, feeling the smallest tinge of guilt, but this is how things are going to be sometimes. Not all of the time, but still. He’ll have to take the three of them to a match sometime soon. Maybe he’ll buy them passes for Christmas. “It’s Emma’s birthday, so we’re going out. I’ll try another time though, okay?”

“Aye, that’s fine. It’s not like it’s going to be a good one anyways. Tell your lady I said happy birthday.”

“I will. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. Are you not working at the bar tonight?”

“No, I’ve got today off. Oi, man, I’ve got to tell you about this guy who came in last night.”

He and Will keep talking until Killian’s finished packing up the bookshelves, everything sorted into different boxes and bags and stacked up next to the door as Will regales him with stories of the bar and Roland’s attempt at ice skating for the first time last week. Robin’s also apparently been dating one of the moms of one of Roland’s classmates. He leaves for a little bit of time and suddenly everyone is getting their lives together. He absolutely cannot wait to annoy Rob about this the next time they talk. The man would rather die than talk about his dating life, so he kind of wonders how exactly Will knew about Robin’s new woman. He never explained. Eventually Will has to go, and Killian’s left spending the rest of the day doing as much packing as he can, only stopping to eat a late lunch and drink another cup of coffee.

“How is it so cold outside?” Emma asks as she pulls off her jacket and takes her beanie off, shaking her hair out and closing the front door behind her. “Seriously, it’s freezing out there. Have you been outside today? Probably not. You’ve probably been packing this entire time. Sorry I couldn’t call at lunch. I missed it to read over my contract one more time. Your girl has officially got herself a pay raise.”

“Congrats, love,” he laughs, taping up a box and then putting his tape down so that he can walk over to the kitchen where Emma’s puttering around in the cabinets. They’re mostly empty now, but she’s probably trying to find a glass. “Do you feel less stressed?”

“Exponentially.”

“Good.” He presses a kiss to her cheek before reaching above her and getting a glass out of the cabinet to hand to her. “I actually went and got some furniture for us this morning, some of the stuff we looked at on Sunday, and it’s being delivered to the apartment. And then I was packing up some things we hadn’t gotten yet. I was about to go work in your hallway closet.”

“I can do that,” she blurts, her cheeks flushing, and he quirks his brow as the gears start turning in his mind over why she wouldn’t want him messing with the closet.

“You’re hiding something.”

“I am not.”

“You’re a horrible liar, remember?”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

“So what do you have hidden in the closet? I’ve been in there before, so I know that it’s not dead bodies or anything.”

“Gross.”

He shrugs. “I’m just saying. I’m also going to go look.”

He sidesteps out of Emma’s way, the curiosity too much, but he also knows that if Emma really doesn’t want him to look, she’ll tell him to stop. And he will. Whatever she’s hiding isn’t bad or untrustworthy. He simply doesn’t know what it is.

“Killian,” she chuckles, grabbing onto the back of his shirt and tugging him back so that he turns around and backs himself up against the wall to look down at Emma. Her eyes have widened, and her lips are somewhere between a smile and a quiver. He simply can’t tell. “Please don’t look in the closet.”

“I won’t if you really don’t want me to. I just wonder how you didn’t think of me looking in there while you were gone today.”

“I forgot.”

“You forgot about your deep, dark secret?”

“It’s not a deep, dark secret. It’s a surprise for you.”

“For little old me on your birthday?”

“Oh my gosh,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes and leaning forward to pat his chest. “You’re so cocky, but yes, for you. It was – I was – do you just want it now?”

He does, but he can be patient.

“You can save it. Today is about you anyways.”

Emma groans, actually groans, and it’s a bit of a mixture between frustration and pleasure. He’s got no clue what’s going on right now. Absolutely none.

“It’s not a big deal,” she starts, stepping to the side and sliding open the closet door, the old folds of it crunching the slightest bit. “Like, it’s really not a big deal. I was going to put them up at the new apartment and let you, you know, just notice when you noticed.” She bends down and picks up a small box, and when she hands it to him, he can see Liam’s address on the return label. What the hell? “Just open it or whatever.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, looking up at her and noticing the way she’s fidgeting, her feet never staying in place. “Swan, unless there’s something super freaky in here that my brother has sent you, and I’m not sure where the limitations lie, I promise that there’s no need to be nervous.”

It takes a bit of work to open the package. Liam really doubles down on masking tape and he’s working with just his nails, but eventually he gets into it, the cardboard folds moving open and revealing a few envelopes that are full of pictures…of him. They’re of him. There’s one of him as a child with his mum, a blue popsicle melted all over him. There’s another of he and Liam at his graduation, another of them when they’d just moved into the apartment in California, and several others that he’s seen before but not in a long time. These are from the books that Liam keeps, that he’s made sure to save even when they were in the system and could barely have belongings. These are his childhood, the fond memories of his childhood, and despite how much he’s always loved them, for a long time it was difficult for him to look at some of them, especially the ones with his mother.

“Did you,” he starts, putting the pictures back in the box, “did you ask Liam for family photos so you could put them up in the apartment to surprise me?”

“Yeah. I thought – I thought it would be a nice thing for you to have some of your home here. And, like, I figured it was a better thing than a picture of Queen Elizabeth or, like, a palm tree that would just die in this climate. I know it’s not a big thing but I – ”

“Emma,” he laughs, dropping the box to the ground and stepping forward to wrap his arm around her waist, holding onto her tightly as he pushes her up to the wall and quickly slants his lips over hers, feeling the softness of her mouth as she gasps into his own. He knows that he’s surprised her, that she didn’t expect such a fierce moment over what she very obviously thinks is a big deal but won’t admit, but the truth of the matter is that it is a big deal. They’re flush against each other and into the wall, and when his tongue moves against hers, she cants her hips up to his as he matches her rocks, the two of them moving together.

He knows that they’re both sentimental, that they both hold onto things from their childhood, that they hold onto the happy moments, but he also knows that they’re often only sentimental about it late at night when maybe exhaustion has gotten to them. Sometimes it’s when they’re walking on the beach by his house, Emma wrapped up in a sweater that reaches her thighs as she tells him about the first time she made a friend who she got to stay around for more than a few months before she was moved to another house in the state. It’s a sometimes thing, not an always, but it means the absolute world to him that Emma would do this.

She hasn’t moved the mountains, but he would never ask or expect her to.

He’d go to the end of the world for her, and he knows that she’d do the same.

Emma’s hands move over his shoulders, and it’s what snaps him into attention before he moves his lips from hers and trails them along her jaw, burying his face in her neck and breathing her in as his heart pounds against his ribcage.

“So you like them?”

He nods into her neck before he pulls back, looking into the gleam of her eyes before he leans forward and kisses her noise, his breath still catching up to him as he rests his forehead against hers. “I love them. Why were you so nervous?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice is a bit high, the smallest bit broken, and he groans a bit knowing that it’s all because of him, that their hips are still pushed together with Emma pinned to the wall. “I wanted to do something big for you to make Boston your home a bit more easily, but I couldn’t think of anything. And I don’t know. I figured you wouldn’t pack up all of the pictures you have at home so that you would still have them when you’re there. It was the least I could do, and I wasn’t going to make a big deal about them, but then you were going into the closet and yeah.”

“I did pack some of them,” he chuckles, leaning back and flashing her a grin so that she’ll stop biting her lip. He’s just now noticing that his hand has traveled up her shirt, and he wonders when he started tracing her spine. “Not all of them but a few, but I don’t – I hadn’t gone into those pictures for years. It’s so hard to see Mum’s face sometimes, but this is good. I appreciate it. Really. I don’t need you to do big gestures. I don’t – Emma I’m happy to be here. I can’t say it enough. I’m happy to be here and to be with you.”

“Yeah,” she nods, moving her hands back up his arms to his shoulders before her hands cup his face, soft pads caressing him as he leans his cheek into her so that he can kiss her wrist, “I’m happy too. We should probably stop making out in my hallway and get ready for dinner.” She pats his face as her lips curl into a smile that makes her eyes crinkle. “You need time to fix up that face.”

“My face looks fine.”

“Obviously you already packed up all of the mirrors in this place.”

It doesn’t take long for the two of them to get ready even though he needs to take a shower, and after he gives Emma her gifts, clasping the ends of her necklace together over the back of her neck, they make their way outside so they can drive to dinner. Emma has work in the morning, so neither of them are really planning on drinking too much or staying out late.

“So this place is really called the Barking Crab?” he asks as they walk from the parking deck to the restaurant, moving through the surprisingly crowded streets even with the chill in the air. Emma had put on a short black dress earlier, had checked the weather, and then quickly changed into black jeans and a sweater so that she wouldn’t freeze. As much as he appreciated the dress, he appreciates Emma not dying of hypothermia more.

“Yep. It’s good and fun, right on the water obviously. You’ll like it because as much as I know that you like the occasional stuffy restaurant, how can you pass up eating greasy food out of baskets?”

“You can’t,” he scoffs, reaching down to wrap his hand over her palm while they walk. “And it’s seafood, so how can it get better?”

“If it were a cheeseburger.”

“I’m sure they have those here, but considering you picked the place, Swan, I don’t think you can complain.”

“We already talked about this. It’s my birthday. I can do whatever I want.”

“That’s not how that works.”

“It definitely is.”

“So if you committed murder, you think you could get away with it by saying it happened on your birthday?”

“You took that from zero to one hundred real quick.”

“I was making a point.”

“One I’m choosing to ignore.” Her steps hurry then, heels clicking against the pavement, and he has to quicken his step to keep up. “I see Mary Margaret at a table.”

“She got one outside? It’s freezing.”

“They have heaters.”

“Still.”

“You’ll be fine,” Emma laughs, squeezing his hand tightly before releasing him and running up to meet her friends, wrapping Mary Margaret in a tight embrace, the two of them rocking from side to side.

She’s already moved onto David by the time that he gets there, so he bends down and presses a kiss against Mary Margaret’s cheek, asking her how she is and about the kids before he’s hugging David and doing the same to him. He’s just about to settle down when Ruby and Dorothy show up, so it’s another mess of hugs and too much conversation all happening at once. He’s only met Dorothy in a professional capacity, but he feels as if he knows her a bit from Emma and Ruby talking about her. She’s great, if not a bit shy, but that’s honestly not an option with Emma and her friends.

Okay, so it’s not an option with Ruby, but he doubts Dorothy would be here if she didn’t fancy Ruby.

Eventually the all sit down around the table Mary Margaret got for them, Emma sliding into the chair next to him and opening up the menu to read through all of the cocktails out loud.

“You’d like the Dark and Stormy, babe,” she tells him, pointing to the rum on the menu, “or maybe the Tea Party since, you know, you’re a Brit in Boston.”

“So damn funny,” he scoffs, tapping his fingers against her thigh from where his hand has been resting.

“I’ve never even thought about that before,” David laughs, closing his menu. “You may also like the Bloody Mary.”

“You’re all regular comedians.”

“Aw, he’s kind of crabby,” Ruby sighs, her lips curling up into a smile. “So obviously the Crabby Margarita will also work for you.”

“I believe a margarita would be better for Mary Margaret.”

“Oh I’m not drinking tonight, but I appreciate the pun,” she sighs sweetly, obviously not going to get in on teasing him about his heritage. “Besides, tonight is about Emma and being one year away from thirty, flirty, and thriving. We should totally be making fun of her.”

“What kind of alcohol puns can you make about Emma, though?” Dorothy asks.

“Not really any,” Ruby admits, shrugging her shoulders before taking a sip of her water. “Though, usually when we’re making fun of Emma, we talk about the great tequila incident of 2012.”

“No.”

“Wait,” he laughs, twisting his head to look at Emma and the absolute look of horror that is covering every inch of her skin, “what is this now? I’ve never heard of it, and I really feel like I should know about something that’s called the great tequila incident of 2012.”

“Babe, you really don’t want to know.”

“I really do,” he promises, excitement running through him as he looks between David, Mary Margaret, and Ruby to see which of them is going to break and tell this story.

“So Emma and I were living in this awful apartment,” Mary Margaret begins, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear only for it to fall back from not being long enough, “and we have absolutely no money. I’m a teacher fresh out of getting my Masters and Emma’s just gotten hired as an assistant PR director after that shitty receptionist job she’d had, so we, literally, never go out to do anything because we don’t have money. Ever.”

“Until your homegirl got hired at the same place as Emma,” Ruby adds, excitedly moving her shoulders up and down while Emma’s leg taps underneath his hand.

“Yeah, so we went out to celebrate Ruby getting a new job because she’d spent so damn long in school, and your girlfriend who is about ready to bolt right now, has a few too many drinks. She’s always been a bit of a lightweight.”

“That’s rich coming from you, honey.”

Mary Margaret rolls her eyes at her husband before looking back at him. “That’s not the point. You’re just mad because you weren’t there that night. Anyways, we’re at a bar and Emma has had too much tequila, so when Ruby suggests that it’s time to go home, Emma just refuses. I mean, absolutely refuses because that awful song Call Me Maybe is on, and she insisted that she had to go around quoting it to every man in the bar before she gave them her number.”

“Please tell me you didn’t, Swan.”

“I did,” she groans, leaning into his shoulder and burying her face in his jacket. “I had to change my number because I kept getting calls asking to talk to the hot blonde that gave away her number and then proceeded to ask every single person if they’d be willing to go on a Segway tour with them by saying ‘we could see Boston, and then I could show you my place.’”

The laughter starts in his stomach, but it makes its way up his entire body, his core and his shoulders shaking as it bubbles up and out of his mouth, nothing containing it as Emma keeps her face buried in his shoulder despite the fact that he must be moving her. It’s not the most embarrassing thing in the world. Not really, but he’s imagining Emma singing the song and propositioning all of those people while Ruby and Mary Margaret were likely curled up in balls laughing at her.

“Why a Segway tour, Swan?” he laughs, squeezing her thigh. “What about that would lead you to taking these guys back to your place?”

“I don’t know. I was drunk. I obviously wasn’t thinking.”

“So now Emma isn’t supposed to drink tequila, and if she does, she either has to sing the entirety of Call Me Maybe or pay for all of us to go on a Segway tour of Boston.”

“Emma, love,” he soothes, moving his hand from her thigh and wrapping it around her shoulder so that he can rub it up and down her arm as she obviously replays the night in her mind, “I’m going to need you to stop drinking too much in front of Ruby and Mary Margaret because it seems to get you into all kinds of predicaments.”

“But that’s how she met you,” Ruby points out, and he smiles at the thought. “I’m still waiting for my boat, by the way. I want it to be called The Love Boat. I’ve said it before, but I obviously need to say it again. I think red will be a good color for it, not tacky at all.”

“You’re not getting a boat,” Emma groans, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. “Also, are we ever going to order? Because it’s my birthday, and I want to eat.”

They do eventually order, and soon the table is full of ridiculous cocktails and water glasses as well as crab, lobster rolls, shrimp, and more seafood than six people will need. But they manage to eat most of it between laughing and sharing more embarrassing stories about Emma. He’s got several up his sleeve, but he’d rather listen to the tales of when all of them were in university together (apparently David came along a bit later, but he knows the stories well enough) and just starting out. Emma is so comfortable with her friends, comfortable with letting them tease her and share things from a time when she likely wasn’t sure of trusting people too much, and he’s not sure if he’s ever been more thankful for three of the people sitting across from him.

They were the ones who Emma opened her heart up to and who didn’t let her down for the first time in her life, and he’s exponentially glad that she has them.

“I’m going to run to the restroom,” Emma mutters after she takes another sip of her water before placing it on the table.

“I’ll join you,” Mary Margaret adds only for Ruby and Dorothy to say the same thing. “And you two cannot make a joke about women traveling in packs to the bathroom when the two of you do stuff like that all of the time.”

“Wasn’t going to, honey,” David sighs, smiling up at his wife. Mary Margaret simply smiles back before she’s walking away, trailing after everyone else as they disappear into the restaurant and out of sight. “So do you feel like you’ve officially been initiated into a Boston man? You’re eating seafood by the harbor when it’s freezing outside. All you need is to be wearing a Sox cap.”

“Well, I did leave my hat and my jersey at home. I knew I was forgetting something when we left the apartment. But yeah,” he shrugs, fingering at the condensation on his glass, “it feels good to be here. It’s definitely not California, but I’m happy. I can’t wait to get into the new place, though. I’m tripping over boxes every two seconds.”

“You never know how much stuff you have until you move, and Emma’s a packrat so that’s got to be awful.”

“It’s not that bad,” he admits, twisting his head and looking out at the water past all of the people who are crowding the streets. “We’ve gone through everything and either donated it, trashed it, or packed it. I don’t think either of us really expected to be able to move so quickly.”

“But when has anything in your relationship ever gone as normal?”

He clicks his tongue, not really sure how to answer that. “Eh, depends on what you’re saying is normal. I think we do what works for us. We haven’t been together for years or anything, but we’ve been together for awhile. And besides two or three days, once we were in, we were all in.”

David’s eyes slant for a moment, the blue turning into slits, and his lips flatten out into a straight line while he looks at Killian. He briefly sees David tilt his head to the side, something almost unnoticeable, but then he’s widening his eyes again as his features relax. He was just being studied, and he’s honestly not sure why.

“You’re going to propose.”

If he were holding his drink instead of thumbing at the water on it while it rests on the table, he’d drop it. He’d drop it and then likely freeze for the chill that’s blowing over the restaurant, the temperatures continuing to fall the longer they stay out here. He can feel the heat as it moves across his face, red flames tickling his skin, and he knows that it’s not from the nip of the air or the warmth of the heater that’s just behind their table.

“Possibly,” he concedes, his eyes glancing over to where Emma had disappeared into the restaurant. As much as he’d like to talk about his thoughts and his plans and the rings that he’s been looking at when he can, he knows that they don’t have a lot of time. “How the hell do you know that?”

“You’re not as suave and mysterious as you think.” He raises a brow, and waits for David to continue. “You love her. You love her in the way that I love Mary Margaret, and while you two are different, it’s still the same.”

“Aye,” he smiles, eyes only straying from David to look to make sure no one is returning to the table, “I do. I love her, and I want to marry her. I know that now isn’t the time, that things are crazy with the move, but I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Killian, that’s incredible,” he laughs, his own face covered in lines while he reaches down to break off a piece of bread. “Emma is like a younger sister to me, and I love her. I just want her to be happy. And you’ve grown on me too, so I guess I want that for you.”

He winks, knowing that he’s got a smirk curling up on his lips. “I tend to have that effect on people.”

Emma comes back to the table first, her hair now pulled up in a ponytail, and sits back down in her chair, her hand landing on his knee and squeezing while Mary Margaret follows closely behind her.

“Where are Ruby and Dorothy?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Emma mumbles.

“They’re asking the chef if she’d be willing to make Emma a small birthday cake,” Mary Margaret explains as she rolls her eyes a bit at Emma. “Emma’s embarrassed because she doesn’t want the entire restaurant looking at her as they sing.”

“I’m not embarrassed. I would have been fine if Killian and I had just stopped for milkshakes on the way home.”

“Nonsense, Swan, you’ve got to have your birthday cake.”

Ruby and Dorothy come back to the table with the promise that Emma is going to have a birthday cake brought out to her in a few minutes. Sure enough their waitress comes to the table with a serving dish full of cake, Emma’s name written in sauce on the white of the plate, and everyone sings to her while he watches her attempt not to blush. It doesn’t work, but she tries.

And later that night after Emma has fallen asleep claiming too much cake and seafood, he scrolls through his phone at the pictures from tonight. There’s several of he and Emma, even more of shots he had to take for she and her friends, but as he does, he never uploads a photo of her face online, not since the night they met at the charity gala. Who he’s dating isn’t a secret, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to control what he puts out there on the rare occasions that he does post things online so that Robin doesn’t get onto him about not being social media savvy enough.

So it’s that thought that has him posting a photo of Emma as everyone sings to her. Her hands are covering her face, the loose strands of her ponytail doing the rest of the work, but he can still see the slightest bit of her smile under the glow of the candle light and the bulb lights the restaurant had up.

KillianJonesOfficial: Happy birthday, my love.

He wants to say more, but he thinks he’d rather keep those thoughts to he and Emma. She’s the only one who really needs to hear them.

#betting on the bullseye #cs fic #CS fanfic #cs ff

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leigh-kelly · 5 years

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And Don’t It Feel Good?

Some 80s AU.

Brittany is really excited about her and Santana’s anniversary. She knows that Santana has been planning this big dinner thing and she won’t take that away from her but she wants to do something for Santana too, she wants to show her how much she means to her and even if she’ll never have the kind of money that Santana does to spend on fancy gifts, Brittany has been putting a little money aside every week so she can buy something for the love of her life.

Because she doesn’t want to go shopping alone, Brittany calls Artie. He’s usually home during the day and he agrees to go look at gifts for Santana with her. Brittany is surprisingly nervous about it, knowing that she has to be really careful about what she buys Santana and she’s glad she has a second set of eyes to help her figure out what the best thing to get is.

“So you’re buying jewelry?” Artie asks, popping a wheelie in his wheelchair.

“Yeah, but nothing gaudy. She likes simple and classy stuff and it can’t be anything with hearts or something.”

“Is it hard being with someone in the closet?”

“Sometimes.” Brittany shrugs. “But she’s like, sort of out, you know? Just not to her family or at work, or like, in not gay spaces. It’s just different for people like her than it is for people like us. You’re a film maker, I’m a dancer, we’re pretty much supposed to be a bunch of queers.”

“I guess. So nothing that looks like it was bought by another woman?”

“Exactly. I was thinking maybe like, a chain that has my birthstone on it. Then everybody else can just think that she likes the color but she can know that she gets to keep me close to her heart.”

“You never struck me as a romantic.” Artie laughs. “And yet here you are.”

“She’s like, totally romantic and I want to try to do something awesome back. I couldn’t really afford to buy her anything nice until now, but since she refuses to let me pay a single bill, I was able to save a bunch of money to buy her a gift. So let’s do this.”

Brittany pushes Artie’s wheelchair into the jewelry store and she spends an hour looking over every single piece, even the ones way out of her price range. She finally goes back to her original idea and looks over the birthstones, picking out a ruby on a gold chain. Red totally suits Santana too, so it’s perfect and she has the cashier wrap it up for her. She’s a little nervous about whether or not Santana is going to like it, but Artie assures her that she will. Because Santana isn’t working late, Brittany declines Artie’s offer to come hang out with everyone and she goes home to hide the necklace in her drawer before Santana gets home.

Over the next few days, Brittany keeps checking the drawer to make sure that the necklace is still there, as if it was going to disappear, and each time she sees the wrapped box, she breathes a sigh of relief. On the morning of their anniversary, she’s the first one out of bed, wanting to bring Santana breakfast before she gets up for work. Because she’s a terrible cook, she turns on the coffee pot and runs around the corner to pick up Santana’s favorite omelet from the diner there. When she gets home, she slides it out of the styrofoam and onto a plate, then pours a cup of coffee for Santana before padding back into the bedroom.

“Brittany, what are you doing up?” Santana mumbles, rolling over in bed.

“I brought you breakfast.” She grins. “Don’t worry, I didn’t make it.”

“I’d still eat it if you made it.” Santana smiles, sitting up and leaning over to give Brittany a kiss. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

“If I would have had time I would have gone to the diner where I took you the first night we met...but then you would have been late for work and I don’t want to make you grumpy today.”

“Nothing can make me grumpy today. It’s been a year since you made my life so much better and I’m happy that we get to celebrate.”

“Duh, obviously me too.”

“I made reservations for tonight, I hope that’s okay.”

“Santana.” Brittany laughs, kissing her lips again. “I know you and I figured you would. I get out of work at five.”

“I know. I made the reservations for eight so you have time to come home and get ready.”

“You didn’t have to do any of this.”

“There are a lot of things I can’t give you, but I can give you this. Let me.”

“Okay. I will.”

After Santana eats her breakfast, Brittany goes back under the covers while she showers. She doesn’t have to be at work until eleven and considering she’s not the best morning person, she wants to go back to sleep. She does wake up again though when Santana kisses her goodbye and she promises that she’ll be ready by the time she gets home from work. Brittany sees that Santana is kind of giddy when she leaves and she thinks it’s the cutest thing.

When Brittany finally gets out of bed, she’s in a really good mood. She goes to work and she doesn’t even feel grumpy about teaching jazz aerobics to old people. She chats with Carl and Emma, she spends half of her lunch break in the studio practicing a dance she made up, she just feels good because it’s a really good day. By the time she leaves, she’s tired but she know she has an amazing night ahead of her so she gulps a hot coffee before she jumps on her bike and then she speeds home, wanting to be showered and ready before Santana walks in the door.

It turns out she has a lot of time and she relaxes in the shower, letting the hot water soothe her sore muscles from work. She gets out and she gels her hair before she pulls on a tight dress and takes a lot of time with her makeup. She’s just finishing up when Santana walks in the door and she grins when she sees her enter the bedroom. She looks really sexy in a pantsuit and Brittany sort of wishes they didn’t have dinner reservations so she could rip it off of her and throw her down on the bed. Sue her, her girlfriend is really sexy and she can’t control herself.

“What?” Santana asks, seeing the way Brittany looks at her.

“Do you know how hot you are? I mean, like, for reals, it’s taking everything in me to keep my hands off of you.”

“I’m just in work clothes...”

“Which you obviously look the hottest in. Are you wearing that to dinner? Because I might not be able to keep my hands off of you.”

“I’m changing.” Santana laughs. “I don’t want to feel like I’m at a work meeting.”

“Can we role play tonight that you’re the banker and I’m your client?”

“The last time we tried to role play I felt really weird...”

“Okay fine.” Brittany smiles and kisses Santana. “But I’m still going to rock your world when we get home.”

“I’m kind of counting on it.”

Santana changes and then they’re out on the curb hailing a cab to take them to the French restaurant where they had their late night date after Santana freaked out. Brittany is so glad that they’re in a good place and though she wishes she could hold Santana’s hand in the cab, she settles for the closeness to her and the idea that later on, she’ll have her all to herself where she can touch her everywhere and make her forget her own name. She loves when Santana’s mind goes blank and she loves that she can to that to her and when they get out of the cab outside the restaurant, Brittany feels a little flushed just thinking about later.

They’re led to the back of the restaurant where Santana requested a private table and Brittany smiles as she watches Santana tip the maitre’d. She thinks it’s really sexy that Santana is important and she loves watching her walk into a place with authority. They’re barely seated when a waiter brings them a bottle of champagne and then he steps back, giving them privacy with their glasses as their menus.

“I want to give a toast.” Santana murmurs, looking down into her glass. “To the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and to another fifty years with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Britt. I know I was weird at Mike and Artie’s wedding, but I never don’t want to be with you. I’ve found my person in you and I hope you’ll have me for that long.”

“I’m not going anywhere, babe. Seriously, I plan to grow old with you and travel the world with you when you finally get to retire.”

“You know it’ll be awhile, right?”

“Totally. But I’m going to be here for it. Imagine how much more relaxed you’ll be.”

“I’m sorry I’m so high strung all the time...”

“You don’t have to be sorry, that’s who I fell in love with. But I do want you to be able to not feel so anxious because it’s better for you.”

“I know.” Santana nods, then stops talking so they can both look at their menus. “Do you know what you want?”

“I think so, yeah. I’m just so excited thinking about giving you your present that I can hardly focus.”

“Brittany, you didn’t have—“

“I wanted to. You always buy me the best things and I might not have the kind of money that you do, but I saved to get you something special.”

The waiter comes back to the table and they order their food, Santana perfectly pronouncing the French even though she doesn’t speak it, and Brittany stumbling over the words but being clear enough so the waiter understands. When he leaves, Brittany takes the wrapped package out of her bag and Santana does the same from hers, sliding a long flat box across the table. Brittany grins at her and hands the gift she’s so excited about to Santana, who flushes.

“It’s a jewelry box.”

“I mean, yeah, but don’t do that thing you do where you try to guess gifts when the box is right in front of you.” Brittany laughs. “Open it.”

“Is that...” Santana unwraps the box and fingers the necklace inside. “My birthstone?”

“No, and it’s obscene that you don’t know that.” Brittany shakes her head. “It’s mine.”

“Brittany.”

“I knew getting you a heart or something would make Terry ask you questions at work, so I figured this could be a private little way of you having me with you.”

“I...” Santana tears up a little and takes the necklace out of the box, clasping it around her neck. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever given to me.”

“You really like it?”

“I love it so much. I wish I could kiss you right now to show you.”

“I’ll settle for this.” Brittany gives Santana’s hand a quick squeeze under the table. “Now me!”

Quickly, Brittany unwraps the package and finds the now familiar red Cartier box beneath the paper. She shakes her head at Santana, thinking it’s absurd that she spends so much money on her, and then opens the box. Inside is a chain with two joined rings on it and Brittany loses her breath. Considering the conversation they’d had the night of Artie and Mike’s wedding, it’s a lot to handle and she looks at Santana for an explanation.

“It’s not in place of an engagement ring.” Santana shakes her head. “I just wanted to let you know that I thought a lot about it and it’s a promise. I don’t know when I’ll be comfortable with the idea of a marriage that isn’t equal to everyone else’s, but someday I will be and you’re the only person I’ll ever want that with.”

“Jeeze.” Tears stream down Brittany’s face. “Okay.”

After putting her necklace on, it takes everything in Brittany not to dive across the table and kiss Santana. But she controls herself and their dinner comes shortly after. They eat in almost silence, both of them clearly reflecting on the year they’ve had together, and the finish the bottle of champagne before Santana orders another. When dessert is done and they’re both a little drunk, Santana makes to stand up and Brittany follows suit. They make their way out to the curb and Santana hails a cab, sliding in first so Brittany doesn’t have to.

The whole way home, Brittany notices that Santana fingers her necklace and she realizes that it’s the first time anyone has ever bought her a piece of jewelry. A shock of hair falls across her face, illuminated in the streetlights and Brittany longs to tuck it behind her ear. It feels like forever until they get home and Brittany can hardly wait to touch Santana. As soon as the door is closed behind them, Brittany pulls Santana to her and just holds her in an embrace. There’s no rush to have sex, there can be a moment of just being and Brittany breathes in the scent of Santana’s shampoo as she holds her close. A year ago, everything was brand new and now here they are, their whole life spread out before them.

“Thank you for dinner.” Brittany murmurs.

“Thank you for you.” Santana whispers back. “Do you want wine or anything?”

“I’m totally a little drunk from the champagne. I mostly just want to take you to bed.”

Santana nods and Brittany releases her from the embrace. They go to the bedroom and Santana stands in front of the bed. They both know that Brittany is really into undressing her so she doesn’t make to take off her dress. Instead, she pulls back the comforter and waits until Brittany stands in front of her, slowly easing the zipper down her back and kissing her shoulder. Brittany is always so adventurous when it comes to sex, but she knows that Santana’s favorite is soft and intimate and she wants to give her that. She slides the dress down Santana’s body and she slides her hands up Santana’s back, playing with her bra clasp before actually unhooking it.

When she finally does expose Santana’s breasts, she kisses her on the lips first, the moves her mouth lower, peppering kisses down her neck, across her collar bone, over the tops of her breasts, before stopping to take a nipple into her mouth. Santana arches into Brittany as she does it and Brittany smiles against her skin, letting her hands begin to slide down Santana’s panty hose. Putting her hands back against the bed to hold herself up, Santana has the balance so that when Brittany removes her mouth from her nipple and goes to finish undressing her, she has the balance to lift one foot at a time off the ground.

Once Santana is undressed, Brittany lays her back on the bed and quickly gets her own clothes off before crawling over Santana. She loves how she looks splayed out on silk sheets and she kisses her deeply, drinking all of her in. Santana tucks Brittany’s hair behind her ears so that she can see her face and Brittany just beams down at her, reveling in her own happiness. They do nothing but kiss for a long time and Brittany winds her hair through Santana’s dark curls, trying to get as close to her as she possibly can.

“I got so lucky with you.” Santana whispers. “You’re one of a kind.”

“You deserve good things, babe, and we’re good together.”

With a smile, Brittany moves back down Santana’s body. She laves plenty of attention on her breasts because she knows that it’s a sensitive spot for Santana, but then she moves further down, kissing Santana’s still-red scar from end to end. Santana squirms a little while she does it and Brittany is aware that she’s self-conscious about it—it took her a while to show Brittany, after all—but she wants to show her how she loves every bit of her, even the parts that are imperfect. Once she’s done with the scar, she spreads Santana’s legs and settles beneath them, propping herself up on her elbows. She’s been with women before but there’s never been anything quite like going down on Santana. It’s the one time in Santana’s life where she gets to completely let loose and Brittany loves watching someone so careful and controlled let it all go.

“Britt.” Santana moans as Brittany wraps her lips around her clit.

“You’re amped.” Brittany lifts her head and grins. “You know it’s better if you let me take my time.”

Brittany works her mouth against Santana until she falls apart, feet scrabbling against the sheets, hands holding her head closer. She waits until Santana’s hands loosen in her hair before she positions herself so her sex rubs against Santana’s. They’ve only done this a few times, but while Santana was surprised about it the first time, she’s seemed to enjoy it subsequent times and Brittany loves getting off like this. Santana is hot and slippery when Brittany moves against her and the though that she’s like that only because of her makes Brittany more turned on than she can imagine.

After she feels Santana come again first, Brittany finally lets herself go. As spent as she is after she falls apart, she manages to untangle her limbs from Santana and gather her up in her arms. She loves post-sex Santana, how sleepy and cuddly and warm she is, how she rests her head on Brittany’s chest and plays with her fingers. She’s soft and relaxed and Brittany kisses the top of her head. A year ago, she couldn’t imagine that they would be here like this. She couldn’t imagine that Santana would let her in, would relax in her arms, would let herself feel safe. But she has, and it makes Brittany really happy.

“Did you really mean what you said at dinner?” Brittany asks, touching the side of Santana’s face.

“I did. After the last time we went out with Mike and Artie, I think I started to understand why they did it. Things are falling apart right now and they wanted to make that commitment to each other in spite of everything else.”

“That’s what I wanted you to see that day. I don’t need a proposal from you until you’re ready, but I just want you to understand why our love isn’t less than anyone else’s.”

“It’s just hard for me. Maybe you’re too young to remember it, but back in the early seventies, Life magazine had this whole thing about gays. My father tore it up when he caught me reading it and cancelled his subscription. Every association I had with my sexuality was a bad one until you came along. I spent years hiding in dark bars and having one night stands. The idea of...oral sex was something I couldn’t even imagine because it was way too much. Even if we were to get married, I’ll still have to hide at work and from my family. Sometimes I just think that none of this is fair to you.”

“I want you, no matter what.” Brittany promises. “All I care about is how you make me feel, and you make me feel better than I ever have in my life.”

“I’m glad, because that’s how you make me feel too.”

“What do you think it’ll be like for us in fifty years?”

“I don’t know, maybe we won’t be living in the city anymore. Maybe we buy a house on Fire Island or up in the Catskills when we retire and we walk in the woods or on the beach every day. We could sit out on our porch and have our coffee in the morning. I guess all that really matters to me is that you’re there with me in fifty years, we can figure out the rest of the details when we get there.”

“Having a house out of the city sounds good, but don’t you love it here?”

“I like it enough. I love this house.” Santana shrugs. “But we could probably keep it.”

“I like talking about the future with you. I guess before I met you, I never really thought about it, I was just living one day at a time.”

“My future feels so much better with you in it. Imagine just thinking you were going to grow old alone.”

“Babe, that makes me sad.”

“You don’t have to feel sad, it’s not that way anymore.”

Brittany has to just hold Santana tightly for a few minutes after that, not saying anything. She may not have thought about the future, but she always figured she’d be with someone. For Santana to think she would have been alone makes Brittany feel heartbroken and she plays with the chain around her neck, knowing that’s not the case anymore. Santana burrows into Brittany’s chest and she kisses the top of her head. Santana is on top everywhere in the real world, but the fact that she lets herself be vulnerable in the bedroom, lets Brittany hold her, makes Brittany feel so glad that she can be something for someone that’s given her so much.

“I wish tomorrow was Saturday.” Santana finally says. “I’d really like to sleep in.”

“By sleep in, do you mean eight o’clock?” Brittany laughs.

“Hey, it’s sleeping in for me.”

“Do you want to maybe take a ride upstate on my bike this weekend? I’m probably not going to have much longer to take it out this year and the leaves are changing so it could be totally cool.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’d like to just relax and not think about anything.”

“Is work okay?” Brittany asks.

“We don’t have to talk about work in bed.”

“If there’s something you want to talk about, I don’t care where we are.”

“It’s just been a lot of stress lately. Hudson won’t leave me alone and I think firing him will just make everyone act up worse. I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re the boss, they should respect you.”

“I’m a woman in a man’s world, a Hispanic woman at that. I’m never going to get the same respect as a man in my position.” Santana sighs.

“I think it’s kind of bullshit, you work harder than anyone.”

“Brittany, you know as well as I do that it isn’t always about how hard you work. There are workplace politics, I have to play the game and try not to ruffle any feathers. Honestly, I wouldn’t put it above Hudson to go to my higher ups if I fired him and who knows what he would say about me.”

“Are you scared about...you know?”

“I’m always scared about that. I know that standing up for Hummel put me out there but I couldn’t not do it. As far as they know, I’m single, I’m what they call a man-eater. There are tells there.”

“Babe.”

“I’m just saying he could blackmail me with his very little evidence and concealing something and lying are two very different things.”

“So you have to let him have control?”

“I have to do what it takes to keep me job. The life we live depends on it.”

“You know we could live in a tiny one bedroom apartment and I’d still love you, right? All of this is just...extra.”

“I know.” Santana nods, playing with Brittany’s hair. “But I worked really hard for all of this and I want to keep it.”

“I get that. I just want you to protect yourself too.”

“I think that’s what I’m doing, even if it feels like a shitty way of going about it.”

“I support you whatever you want to do, I just hate when you’re all stressed out.”

“I’m very relaxed right now.” She laughs a little. “You made sure of that.”

“And we’re going to have a majorly relaxing weekend.”

“Definitely. Let’s just get through tomorrow first.”

#brittana #80s au

44 notes · View notes

justanoutlawfic · 6 years

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Back To You: Chapt. 2

Story Summary: 5 years ago, Belle left Storybrooke and became a New York Times Bestselling Author. Now, she's returning to Storybrooke to try to convince her husband to finally give her the divorce she's been begging for. However, the longer she spends in town...the more she realizes...maybe that's not what she wants anymore.

Chapter Summary: A look back into the happy times of Sampson and Belle’s relationship. In the present, Neal visits his dad so they can have a talk.

Also on AO3

7 Years Ago

Belle stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her dress a final time. This wasn’t how she pictured her wedding as a little girl, there was supposed to be a big cake and the church her parents were married in. Sampson had already had the big wedding though, with Milah. He had said he’d be more than willing to do it again, but Belle could tell it wasn’t really what he wanted deep down. So, she had agreed to a simple backyard wedding at his place, with just her parents, his son, daughter-in-law and grandson present.

She allowed her mind to wander back to the first time she had ever met him. She had been living in Storybrooke for about half her life, yet had never ran into the mysterious lawyer/pawnshop owner. A little after her 19th birthday, she returned from college and her roommate, Emma, decided to introduce her to her future father-in-law. Sampson was handsome, older and she fell head over heels instantly.

Most of the town didn’t get what she saw in him, her father included. They missed the days when she dated Gaston Theroux, despite not knowing how unhappy she was in that relationship. Sampson made her smile, he respected her studies. She’d come home from Boston U every other weekend and he’d come visit her on the alternating ones. The proposal came the day she returned from her graduation and she couldn’t wait to become Mrs. Gold.

“Honey,” Colette stepped into the room and paused, taking in her daughter’s dress. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, Mama.” Belle turned to her and smiled. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. As long as this is really what you want.”

Belle had to hold back a sigh. She loved her mother more than life itself, but they had such different ideas about the future. Belle wanted to be an author, but felt she could do it in Storybrooke. Colette wanted her daughter to leave this small town and never look back. Getting married so young is what she had done and now she was miserable. Belle didn’t plan to be, though. Sampson Gold was not Moe French. They were going to be happy, they were going to build a life together.

“It is.” Belle took her hands. “I love Sampson and he loves me. You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

Colette let out a sigh. “Oh my darling Belle,” she whispered, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “Once you become a mother, you’ll learn that you always worry about your child.”

Moe walked in, interrupting the precious moment between mother and daughter. “Are you ready yet?”

“Yes, Dad.” Belle cleared her throat and walked over to him, taking his arm.

“Not too late to run.”

She rolled her eyes. While Colette worried about Belle’s safety, Moe just hated Sampson because he owned eighty percent of the properties in town, his flower shop included. “I’m not running.”

“I better go take my seat,” Colette said. “See you out there.”

She left the room and Moe reluctantly escorted his daughter down the stairs and into the backyard. She didn’t even see the other people there, just her groom. He was wearing a tux instead of a suit that day and looked just as dashing as ever. When Moe finally let her go, she took hold of his hands and stared into his eyes. This was her future, this was what she wanted. Sampson was supportive, he cared about her and her dreams. He wanted her to become a successful author. They’d be Storybrooke’s power couple.

She could hear their ordained friend, Archie, go through the vows, but she only listened hard enough to know when to say “I do.” She silently thanked him for leaving out the “If anyone has any objections” bit, not wanting to tempt fate with her parents.

“By the power invested in me by the state of Maine, I now pronounce you two husband and wife,” Archie said. “Sampson, you may kiss your bride.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he said with a bit of glee in his eye.

He leaned in, kissing her and Belle deepened it, throwing her arms around his neck. It was official, she was now and forever, Mrs. Gold.

Present Day

Emma made her way into the house, ruffling her son’s head as she walked past him. Henry was such a reading buff, it surprised her. She and Neal were more art than book people, but somehow the 10 year old could go through a dozen of them a week. She was proud of him, nonetheless, it was fun to brag to her friends that while most kids would be out causing trouble, her son could be found with his nose buried in a book. The first time she did that with Ruby, she realized she was becoming her own mother with her art…but strangely, she didn’t mind.

She entered the kitchen and pecked her husband on the lips. He grinned and handed her the cup of coffee in his hands. “What’d Dad say?”

“He’s got no problem watching the kid.”

“Awesome.”

“But um, Belle was there.”

Neal arched an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

Emma nodded. “She came to get him to sign the divorce papers…I thought they were already divorced. Didn’t you tell me that?”

“I told you that Belle sent them to him.”

“Neal.”

He sighed. “I knew what you’d say, you’d bug him to sign them.”

“Well, it’s what she wants.”

“I know, I know. And to be honest, if I were him and had messed up so badly with you…I’d be willing to give you whatever. He has his reasons, though.”

“And they are?”

“That, I don’t know. I used to think that he didn’t want to be the man with two divorces, but he squashed that. Deep down, he just loves her.”

Emma frowned. “I get that, I do. Why did they even split up anyway? I know your dad was having some problems, but she was willing to be by his side.”

“Sometimes there’s only so much that a person can put up with. We didn’t see how bad he got until the accident. Belle lived with him every day.” He let out another sigh. “I better go talk to him.”

Neal took Emma’s bug out and headed the 5 minutes down the road to his father’s. For so long, they were all each other had. Milah and Sampson divorced when Neal was 10 and his mother’s presence in his life was sporadic at best, especially after she got remarried to a navy captain. Which meant it was his father that supported him when Emma got pregnant when the two were only 19. He gave his blessing for their wedding and helped them with Henry, alongside Mary Margaret and David Swan.

Which meant that Neal had no problem stepping up and helping his own father after everything went wrong. Even before Belle left, he must’ve spent a week at their house after the tragedy, trying to keep everything together. Then when she was gone and his father got hurt, he moved in with Neal and Emma temporarily so they could help take care of him. Sampson would never be alone, not if Neal had anything to say about it.

Even if it sometimes was the opposite of what his father wanted.

Gold was doing some paperwork when Neal walked in. He didn’t even have to look up to know it was his son. “Emma told you.”

“I would’ve figured it out eventually.” He plopped down across from him. “So, did you sign them?”

“What do you think?”

“Papa.”

Gold looked up. “Neal.”

“This is what she wants,” he said gently. “Don’t you think you should give it to her? It’s been 5 years.”

“I can’t. I can’t just sign this and let it be over.”

Neal frowned. “I know you love her,” he whispered. “Sometimes, that’s just not enough.”

“If I could see a sign, that this is really what she wanted…if I could feel it in my bones…then I’d sign.”

“What’s that going to take? Don’t you want her to be happy?”

“Of course I do! That’s all I ever wanted!”

“Then maybe that requires letting her go.”

Gold looked down at his paperwork and blinked a couple of times. The truth was, he knew that Belle was happy. She had been happy before he screwed up and then when she left, she was happy again. And that hurt, because he knew there was no one else to blame but himself.

6 Years Ago

They lived in a state of married bliss for a year. They had sex with the doors open, in almost every room of the house. The two were like rabbits, barely able to keep their hands off one another. He took her on a honeymoon to Europe so she could see some of the best libraries and read amazing literature. Back home, they went on a date night at least once a week, it was newlywed bliss and he never wanted it to go away.

On their anniversary, he arrived home that night with a bottle of wine, a single red rose and a beautifully wrapped box. He found her waiting on him in the den, looking beautiful in her emerald green dress with some jewels on the neckline. She stood on her tiptoes, kissing him passionately for a moment. When she pulled away from him, she accepted the wine and set it down, before sniffing the rose and looking to find a vase to put it in.

“I made reservations at the Italian place,” she said as she filled the crystal vase with water. “I didn’t feel much like leaving town, I hope that’s okay.”

“Whatever you want, it’s your anniversary.”

“Our anniversary.” She turned to him and saw the wrapped package in his hands. “Is that for me?”

“Do I have another lovely, sexy wife it could belong to?”

Belle giggled and accepted it from him, opening it to find a leather jewelry box. Upon flipping it open, she discovered a beautiful diamond necklace, her eyes widening. “Oh, Sampson…”

“I think it goes perfectly with your dress.”

“I love it, but it’s…it’s too much.”

“Nothing could ever be enough for you.”

He held back her hair and clasped the necklace around her neck. She gave him another kiss before disappearing into the other room, only to return a moment later with three packages of her own. The first two included a silk tie set and a glass of his favorite whiskey. The last one, however, was the box he had put her engagement ring in. He cocked an eyebrow and flipped it open, finding a pacifier inside. Slowly, he tilted his head.

“Belle…”

“I found out this morning,” she whispered. “It…it happened.”

The two had been trying since their honeymoon to have a child. Yes, Gold had his son and he loved him, but he knew how badly Belle wanted to be a mother and there was no way he would deny her that. Besides, he had always wanted more children. Even if in this case, they’d be younger than his grandson. Still, nothing had seemed to work. Belle was getting nervous and had actually been making plans to talk to a specialist.

There was no need for that now.

“We’re going to have a baby,” he said, in awe.

Belle nodded. “We’re going to have a baby.”

He swooped her into his arms, landing a kiss to her lips before resuming hugging her tightly. She hugged him tighter, tears of joy falling down both of their faces.

#rumbelle #rumbelle au #back to you verse #swanfire #swanfire au #papafire #papafire au

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hyenaswritings-blog · 7 years

Text

A drabble: Audey Jensen, Scream

Anonymous said:

could you do 24 with audrey? btw I love your imagines you’re really talented🙏

Awww thanks dear

24# : person A flirting with other people to make person B jealous.

Warnings: Drinking alcohol, things get also a bit heated, so I guess light smutt-ish, plus few curse words.

(If someone of you know me irl, PLEASE STOP READING. I can’t face anybody’s eyes if I know that you have red this…:DD)

I looked myself from the mirror, and tested yet another dress on. This one was black, with lace, and it looked sexy as it was skin-tight and shoved every curve from my body. I wasn’t sure of this one, so I took it off, and tried another one. This one was red, and a little more breathable I guess. Maybe this was the right one. I went to my jewelry box, and started looking for right necklace, when my hand’s found on particular one. It was golden, and had a golden and black pendant on it. I got it from Audrey when we started dating a few months ago. I used to wear it all the time, but not anymore. My thoughts went out to wander back to a scene, that happened exactly 2 days and 32 minutes ago. (Not that I was counting or anything..)

“I don’t know how to apologize enough, I just can’t be with you anymore”, Audrey said to me in empty classroom. I couldn’t believe it. “B-But what happened? Did I do something?”, I asked as tears started to itch in my eyes. “No, you were and are perfect. I know that this is a cliche, but it’s not you, it’s me”, she said, and looked also to be on the verge of tears. “No, that’s bullshit! I deserve to hear the truth!”, I shouted to her. I started to get frustrated. If I was gonna lose the only good thing in my life, she better have one hell of a good explanation. She didn’t say anything, just stood there. “Tell me the truth!”, I shouted and shook her shoulders. “O-Okay!”, she said, almost crying now. “It’s just.. I can’t be so selfish to danger your life, the killer knows that you are the most precious thing to me, and will come after you. I can’t allow that. Even if it means that I’d lose you”.

There was really nothing what I could say after that. So, I didn’t say anything, just walked away from there, tears now staining my cheeks. I did not agree with her decision, but I couldn’t force her to be together with me, if that was what she thinks. But this didn’t mean that I couldn’t make her think twice about her decision.

So, that was why I was looking for a dress. Brooke was throwing a party this evening, and I was going, and so was Audrey, for what I heard. A voice back of my head shouted that this was bad idea, and I should respect her decision. But then again, I was free to do whatever I please. It was not like we were together anymore, so why not?

After looking again in the mirror, I decided to change back to the black dress. I put my (Y/H/C) hair nicely, and golden earrings and necklace. I decided to go with my slender combat boots, I wasn’t big fan of high heels, and I felt comfortable with my combats.

One final glance to the mirror, checked that my makeup was fine, and then I left. I went in a same ride with Emma, as we lived so close to each others. “Wow, you look great”, Emma said as I went in the car. “Thanks, you too!”, I said smiling. I started to get nervous, I hadn’t seen Audrey since the break up. The car ride wasn’t long, and when we arrived, I had to take a minute before leaving the car, and walking inside of the big house. I tried to gather all my confidence, and calm my heart.

I get to walk two steps before Brooke came hugging me. “(Y/N), I wasn’t sure that you’ll come!”, she said loudly. She had been drinking, I could see. “Of course I came, silly. Free booze and beautiful people? Count me in”, I said laughing, without realizing that Audrey was standing behind me.

After I chatted with Brooke, I took a direction towards the table that held all kinds of alcohols.

I thought for a while, until I decided to go straight to the hard stuff, so I took some whiskey on a red solo cup. I didn’t want to get super drunk right now, maybe later. I took a sip from it, and walked outside, where everyone was dancing and swimming. I scanned through the people, and saw a beautiful girl with bottle blond hair, and super long legs. She was not my type at all, but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t like I was gonna date her or something.

I walked up to her. “Hey there!”, I said smiling. “Hey! You are one of Brooke’s friends right?”, she asked, almost shouting through the music. “Yeah, I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you”, I said to her. “Yeah, same. My name is Lola”, she said and smiled.

Audrey’s P.O.V

I looked from the corner, as (Y/N) walked straight to some leggy blond, not noticing me at all. They seemed to get along quite well, and every time (Y/N) smiled or laughed at something that girl said, I felt a sting at my heart, and I got more angry all the time. That led to drinking more. I tried to reason myself with the fact that I let her go myself, I didn’t have right to be jealous. She can date as many blonds with legs as long as Eiffel tower as she likes. But even tho, I felt like I would throw up, as (Y/N) touched the blonde’s hand and smiled.

reader’s P.O.V

We chatted for a good while, until Lola told that her ride was leaving. We said goodbyes, and she walked away. What now? I got more drink, as my cup started to get empty. I was standing next to the booze table, filling my cup, as some girl that I did not know came to there too. She was very pretty, with her brown curly hair and skin, it looked amazing with the golden shirt that she was wearing. “Hi! I saw you there on the yard, I just wanted to tell you that your clothes look amazing!”, she said out of the blue. I blushed. “Oh, thank you! Yours look gorgeous too!”, I said giggling. “My name is (Y/N)”, I said and offered my hand. “Amelia”, she said and squeezed my hand.

Audrey’s P.O.V

When the blond left, I started to go talk to (Y/N), but when I almost reached her, she went to get more booze. I followed her, but then she started to talk to another girl. I felt so frustrated. I knew that I should just stay away, but I couldn’t. I stood away, waiting for that girl to go away, so I could go to (Y/N). But their chat didn’t seem to have an end.

Reader’s P.O.V

Amelia was so funny! She constantly told jokes, and they were hilarious. “(Y/N), what do you think if we would go dancing?”, she asked then, and leaned closer. “I am not really a dancer..”, I hesitated. “Oh, that’s fine. I can teach you. So, what do you say?”, she asked, with rather seductive undertone. I didn’t even realize that we were now so close to each others. Just when I was about to answer to her, I heard a familiar voice next to me. And that voice sounded pretty angry.

“(Y/N), can we talk?”, Audrey asked, and she was tense. “Oh, I didn’t realize that..never mind. (Y/N), it was nice to meet”, Amelia said, and quickly walked away from the scene. “Thanks a lot”, I said with unimpressed tone to Audrey. I tried to play it cool, but on the inside I was a mess. One part of me was screaming because my plan had worked, somehow at least. Then one part of me was heartbroken, and seeing her did not really help. “What do you want to talk about then?”, I asked her. “What was that?”, she asked through gritted teeth. I played innocent. “What do you mean?”, I asked. “You know what I mean”, she said quietly. “Oh, you mean Amelia? We just met. She thought that my dress was nice, and asked me to dance. And you know that I am not really a good dancer, but she promised to teach me. And I mean, she is so beautiful, that I couldn’t resist. I was going to go, until you, you know, ruined it”, I told her. I knew that I was being mean, but I wanted her to hurt like she hurt me.

I didn’t get to say anything more, before Audrey grabbed my hand and dragged me to the first empty room. “What are you doi-”, I got to say before she pushed me to the wall, and kissed me passionately. I felt like my heart was gonna burst, I had missed this so much. I just loved possessive Audrey. I answered to the kiss with as much force as she, and tried to hold her head, but she captured my hands, and held them on top of my head, on the wall. She moved to kiss my jaw, and from there to my neck. She held my hands with one of her hands, and the other hand started to wander around my body. “A-Audrey, please”, I tried to say. “Say that you’re mine”, she growled. I wasn’t gonna say it. So she bit me, and I knew that it would leave a mark, not that I would mind. “Say it”, she said again, as her hand slipped inside of my panties. I couldn’t help it. “I’m yours”, I moaned, and arched my back

Suddenly she stopped, but still held my hands. She leaned close to me, and put her lips close to my ear. “You better remember that”, she whispered, then let go of my hands and left the room, just like that. I stood there for a minute, looking myself from the mirror that was on the opposite wall. My hair was messy, and lipstick was all over the place. I touched my lips, and then smiled in amazement. What the hell just happened?

(A/N) OHhMYGodd. I didn’t even know that I could write that kind of stuff. Jesus.

-Hyena

#drabble #audrey jensen #audrey jensen imagine #audrey jensen imagines #audrey jensen fanfic #audrey jensen x reader #audrey jensen fanfiction #audrey jensen scream

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