#falliam drabbles

[misssophiachase]

I saw that you were going to do Liam and Fallon drabbles but you might not be anymore. I saw the spoilers for this week and am disappointed they won't be together but it would be nice to read something where they do get together to make me feel better if you can.

Well…..it’s been a rollercoaster and so sorry for the delay. But happy to try and make you feel better about what’s transpired. I’m going to fast forward in time because that’s EXACTLY what Fallon and Liam need right now. That upcoming Paris episode is playing on my mind too. 

La Vie en Rose

Hilton Hotel Paris, France - 9pm

“When we embarked on this journey, Sam, I assumed you knew what we were coming to find?” Fallon Carrington hated disorganisation above all else and it was obvious now her brother-in-law had no concrete plans upon their arrival in Paris. 

“I knew Stephen was in Paris,” he argued, gesturing to the impressive view from their penthouse at the Hilton.

“You realise it’s a pretty big place, right?” She shot back, gesturing to the same view. “I could swing a baguette around and still not find my brother.”

“Cute,” Sam growled. “My emotions took over alright? I thought my husband was in Paraguay helping the poor and needy but turns out he’s been living it up in the city of love without yours truly. Not going to lie, it hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” she offered, a rare apology from the queen of Atlanta herself. “But I’m sure there’s a really good explanation for all of this, Sam.”

“Yeah, he obviously prefers complex carbohydrates to me,” he murmured, slinking onto the nearby sofa. She wasn’t one to offer much sympathy but seeing her brother-in-law in such a poor state she needed to intervene. 

“Take a bath,” she smiled comfortingly. “Trust me, you won’t regret it. Then order some room service and we can pick up this whole woeful task in the morning.”

“Fine, but if you dare visit the Champs-Élysées without me to shop, I will kill you. You know, even if we are family.”

“Isn’t that sweet,” Fallon drawled, closing their connecting room doors and consulting her notes. Stephen thought he was smart but being his sister she knew way too much about him. 

Changing into her best and cutest winter ensemble, Fallon took to the streets determined to find out what the hell he was up to and slap him for messing with them both. 

She barely acknowledged her surroundings along the Seine as she stalked towards her brightly lit destination. As children they would always imagine being at the top of the Eiffel Tower years later at midnight on one particular date. 

That date just happened to fall today. It all seemed too convenient.

Fallon knew if she thought too much about its meaning she wouldn’t make it. But it was for Stephen after all and nothing else mattered. When Sam had traced him here, everything seemed to fall in place.

The elevator flew upwards, her stomach dropped briefly but Fallon was too concentrated to really falter.  She stepped out inhaling the cold air sharply hoping her brother would be there and ready to explain himself. She pulled her coat around her body to ward off the chill as she made her way towards the railing. 

“Fallon.” His voice was extremely familiar and she couldn’t miss the way his low growl messed with her resolve.

“Liam?” She squeaked, not expecting him to be there. Her heart began to race, their last meeting in Idaho hadn’t at all gone to plan. “I was actually looking for…”

“Stephen,” he offered, his expression softening slightly. Given their last altercation it was unexpected he’d be so caring. “That’s why I’m here.”

She suddenly felt stupid for caring too much but when he mentioned Stephen it seemed to jolt her into reality. That’s why she was here not for the guy she loved who rejected her so harshly.

“Is Stephen okay?”

“He’s okay,” Liam offered, his eyes warming. “He actually asked me to come here to see you. But there’s something we need to talk about first.”

“No. I don’t just go with strangers…”

“We were married Fallon, how quickly you forget.” She couldn’t miss the mixture of sarcasm and hurt in his tone.

“I don’t care,” she huffed. “What the hell is going on? And if this adventure is going to take us further afield to say the Champs-Élysées, Sam might have something to say.”

“Fallon…”

“He said he’d kill me if I went there without him, okay?”

“Why am I surprised,” Liam drawled. “But are you that scared to be alone with me?” He murmured, his breath tickling her left ear teasingly. 

“Yes,” she mumbled, knowing exactly what effect he had on her. 

“Why?”

“Because you apparently despise me and funnily enough I’d prefer to spend my time with people who care about me, like Stephen. So start talking about why you’re here, Ridley.”

“I don’t hate you, I never did, love.”

“Not my question,” she growled, pulling away. The last thing she needed was any feelings resurfacing.

“Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“Just to annoy you, figured you’d have worked that out by now.”

“But if we’re being honest about everything might need to pick up Sam given our journey traverses the Champs-Élysées.”

“Just so you know, spending time together means nothing to me, I’m just here for Stephen and Sam’s shopping addiction.” She lied, hoping it sounded convincing.

“Me too, love.”  He lied, thinking exactly the same thing. 

“Finally something we agree on,” she scoffed. 

[laineyswilson]

“That fiancée of yours must be really lucky/happy”

He watches her carefully from across the room as she leans against the bar waiting for her drink as she makes small talk with the bartender, her smile brighter than any sun or moon could ever shine. He could count on his hands the amount of times Fallon’s let herself drink enough to the point of letting loose; she liked to be in control, always, and she had a way of never letting it get to the point where she wasn’t in control of her own thoughts or actions.

He sees the champagne flute slide across the bar top to her as she lets it slip between her two fingers and rest against the palm of her hand, her eyes gleaming in the soft yellow lighting as she makes her way back to him in her little black dress and stark white heels. He can see in her glossy eyes that she’s had enough to drink to the point that she’s feeling really good about everything and is definitely a little buzzed, more so than she usually is.

It makes his heart swell a little that she’s feeling happy and relaxed enough right now to let herself do this, that she’s not stressed and anxious enough to be worrying about the hundreds of other things going on in their lives, that she just wants to have a good time. 

She shimmies her way up to him, glass of bubbling champagne being carefully balanced in her left hand; he can feel her breath against him when she whispers, albeit slurs her words against his ear, “You’re pretty hot. Can I take you home?”

He can only grin in her direction because for one, they are home, but he doesn’t feel the need to correct her on that just yet. And two, he can actually smell the alcohol she’s consumed on her breath, which makes him wonder if she’s snuck a few extra glasses of champagne in when he wasn’t paying attention.

How many glasses has she had now exactly? 

“Sorry, no can do,” he says as she leans in against him, her frame pushing against him for support, unable to stand up completely on her own accord. She instinctively curls herself around him, head resting against his shoulder, tucking it into the warm crevice of his neck as he winds his arm around her back to hold her firmly against her waist. “I’ve got a fiancée.”

“What?” The absolute defeat that comes out of her surprises him, the whiny tone she seems to take on makes him wonder - she’s either doing a hell of a good job at flirting with him, or she really has had way too much to drink. “That fiancée of yours must be really lucky.”

God, how much did she drink?

“You’d have to ask her that.”

“Well, where is she?”

She tilts the flute up against her slips, letting the carbonation flow right into her, finishing off what he thought was glass number four, but is now wondering if it’s more like glass number six. Her glass is empty in no time again, when a waiter comes around their corner offering her another one, and she happily places her hand against the filled glass on the man’s tray, but Liam knows he has to step in at this point. 

Or else he was going to have a hell of a hungover Fallon on his hands tomorrow morning.

“Alright, that’s enough for you,” he says, grabbing the flute from her and placing it right back against the black tray. The waiter gets the hint and takes off in a new direction, finding new people to hand a beverage to. 

“What? Why?”

“You’re done for the night.”

“No! I’m fine,” she rebuttals, her right hand holding tight against his shoulder, barely able to balance herself on her two feet. “Just one more, please.”

His hand slides down her opposite arm, tangling his fingers with hers muttering, “Let’s get you up to bed.”

He tugs her along and she goes without a complaint, just lets him pull her up the staircase as she leans against his upper arm on the way to her bedroom. 

It’s not until after they’ve got their pajamas on and are relaxed against her expensive white sheets, her head resting against his chest comfortably, arm lazily placed across his chest and holding onto his hand tightly. He takes to rubbing small circles against her back, trying to do anything and everything he can to stop the room from spinning like he knows it is for her right now (he already made her take a pain killer for the headache she’s bound to have in the morning), and he’s pretty sure he feels her eyes start to close against him, certain she’s well on her way to slumber when she speaks up again. 

“Liam?”

He loved these moments with her; he loved all moments with her really, but he loved how different she was when it was just the two of them; that she trusted him enough to let him see the real her, that she let him see what was underneath her hard exterior. Her dreams and her feelings and her fears; it wasn’t something he took lightly and it wasn’t something he ever would.

He presses his lips against her forehead in a lingering kiss, “Hmm?”

“Your fiancée is really lucky,” she says softly. “And she’s really happy, too.”

[misssophiachase]

Well, it has been a while! Work has finally calmed down and I need a creative outlet. Anyone have any klaroline/falliam prompts to clear the cobwebs?

[misssophiachase]

Prompt! 3x14 au ish. Caroline gets wasted at the ball and they bond over having being tortured by their fathers

Love this! If only it had happened… For Klaroline Rewind

Drunk in Love

9 February 2024, New Orleans LA

“Happy 5th Anniversary!” They toasted, clinking champagne glasses around the expansive dining table in the courtyard of the compound. 

“I still can’t believe Mr ‘I’m Never Getting Married’ actually did it,” Rebekah teased, winking at her husband Enzo. 

“I still can’t believe she said yes,” Kol joked, earning a dirty look from his older brother. 

“She is the cat’s mother, Kol,” Elijah corrected as per usual. 

“You know what I can’t believe?” The brunette by his side asked. “That we’re all sitting around the same table, it seems like only yesterday you were trying to kill me, Klaus.” 

“If it weren’t for Elijah, I probably would have by now, Katherine.”

“You know what I can believe?” Bonnie murmured, putting her glass down and regarding them, including her husband, seriously. “This topic of conversation at the dinner table.”

“Well, Klaus is just lucky that I agreed to marry him,” Caroline shared, “it was touch-and-go there for a bit.” 

“Oh please,” he drawled. “You fell in love with me the night of the Mikaelson ball.”

“No, I merely realised just what a lightweight you were in the drinking department.”

“Says the girl who thought she was imagining things and insisted on getting married on that particular date, just saying.”

9 February 2012 - Mystic Falls VA

“Woah, either I’ve had too many champagnes or there is an actual horse over there,” Caroline said, opening and closing her eyes a few times to double-check. 

It seemed as if the Mikaelson mansion, in all of its grandeur, had the whole town within its walls. The sound of clinking glasses and lively chatter could still be heard from outside in the front garden. 

Caroline needed a break from boring holes into Rebekah Mikaelson with her eyes and watching the constant merry-go-round of Elena Gilbert and which of the Salvatore brothers she would eventually pick.  

“Of all creatures here tonight, why in the world would it be so unusual to see a horse?”

“I know you come from the horse and buggy era but these days a car is your best and fastest bet to get places.”

“How economical and entirely unromantic of you, love,” he drawled, drinking her in as she took a seat on the white garden furniture next to him, noticing a bottle of champagne and two accompanying glasses on the table. It was as if he was expecting her.

“You are not pulling that whole romantic crap on me, Mikaelson,” before he could interject she continued. “Just because I wore the dress you got me doesn’t mean you’re romantic, it just means I had no time to shop.”

“I believe we covered this already during our waltz but the reason behind wearing the bracelet still remains a mystery.”

“I needed something to match the gown, you know the one I had to wear because there was no time…”

“To shop, yeah I get it,” he interrupted and by his tone, she could tell he didn’t believe her. Truth be told, she didn’t even believe herself. “It must be exhausting.”

“What must be exhausting?” 

“Always putting up a front,” he sighed. “It is alright just to say you like it, I won’t propose to you or anything.”

“Well, with you who knows?”

“In all my time roaming this earth I’ve never been married and have no desire to start now, sweetheart.” 

“Someone break your heart?” Caroline had no intention of ever getting into a deep and meaningful with the evil hybrid that terrorised her friends and basically scared her boyfriend away but here she was doing just that. 

He paused momentarily. It was an excruciatingly long wait as he popped the cork and poured the golden liquid into the champagne flutes. Caroline didn’t think she could care more about what he was going to say next. She was fairly certain she needed to analyse that but she’d do that later in the privacy of her bedroom.

“I’m going to need more of this if we’re going to continue down this route,” he murmured, lifting the glass to those sinful, crimson lips and taking a long sip. Caroline wasn’t sure what she’d gotten herself into and decided to blame the alcohol. She took a big gulp herself. What were a few more glasses anyway? “It wasn’t a woman per se.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t have assumed,” she babbled, not expecting that.

“I’m not gay, love,” he smirked, those dimples she knew all too well making an appearance. “I just wanted to clear that up because you seemed a little upset at the prospect.”

“Enough with the ego, Mikaelson,” she shot back. “So?”

“It was my father,” he shared. “He was such a tyrant, took every opportunity to berate me and my siblings and bully my mother. I could never imagine getting married because of what I had witnessed. It just stuck with me I suppose.”

“It was safer not to,” Caroline offered as he nodded in agreement. “I never understood why my parents got married in the first place, they were so different. And I honestly felt like I was more of a burden to my father, he missed everything that was important to me. I was the lead in the school play and he apparently had a work emergency and couldn’t make it, I’ll never forget how painful it was to see that empty seat next to my mother in the audience.”

“Well, my father killed my favourite horse, severed its neck.”

“Wow. Are you really trying to make this an emotional scar off? Because even though no animals were harmed in my family my father was still an ass.” 

“I was merely stating a fact,” he argued. “But just so you know, love, I would have never missed your performance.”

“I was so good too.”

“I’m sure you were,” he concurred. “My father never thought I was good enough, I never understood it until I found out my true paternity.”

“He was missing out,” she uttered. “Now who’s the most powerful creature on earth?”

“Oh, so you’re admitting I am, huh?” Caroline had no intention of stroking that overbearing ego but again decided to blame it on the champagne.

“I’m going through a mourning period and you are plying me with alcohol,” she insisted. “I’ll never forget the look in my father’s eyes when he realised I was a vampire.”

“One of the strongest vampires I’ve ever known, and there have been many,” he grinned. “He was the one missing out on seeing just what a force of nature you are. But I know you loved him and I truly am sorry to hear about his passing, Caroline,” he reiterated. 

“I think we need more alcohol,” she motioned towards the bottle, thinking just how wonderful Klaus ‘the terrible’ Mikaelson could be and it frightened the hell out of her. 

“Indeed we do, love.” 

A/N The term an ‘emotional scar-off’ came from my fave Dynasty couple Falliam, which seemed fitting for Klaroline and this drabble. 

[laineyswilson]

Are uuuu postiiing anyyy falliam ficsss 2dayyyy?

As of right now, no?

My brain has decided it wants to have about twelve different fic ideas spinning around at once, so I’ve been kINDA working on a full-length one-shot the past few days instead of those drabbles?

Couldn’t get Fallon or Liam to speak to me a week ago and now they won’t shut up. 

[laineyswilson]

PLEASE make a whole fan fic about fallon getting pregnant with liam's baby !!!! you are soooo good at writing falliam ugh my heart

Alright only answering this one now because it totally would have to be a full length fic, not a drabble. I’ll keep this at the back of my mind and see if anything comes of it. 

It’s possible with all the upcoming rumors I may have already plotted in my head how the show could make it Liam’s. 

[laineyswilson]

Do u have any new falliam fics coming up soon?

Drabbles? Yes! Nothing full-length though, if you were referring to something like that.