#imagine the luxury of having ships with over 100 fics to their name

[seriouslyhooked]

Feels Like This (Part 3)

Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1 Here, Part 2 Here. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! So thank you so much first and foremost for the love you guys have shown this fic. I have been so excited to write this and have been waiting ages to share it all with you. This is the kind of fluff and cuteness I personally need in my life right now, and I know a lot of you probably feel the same. Strap in for my usual dose of CS feels, and yes, for those of you asking, this is the moment CS will meet. Hope you all enjoy and thank you all so much for reading!

“And you’re sure you’ve got everything?” Emma asked, looking at Henry and knowing that he was ready to head into camp. They’d been over this numerous times, and at this point they were already out of the house and in front of the hall where campers congregated every morning. Still, Emma couldn’t help trying to soak up the moment with her kid just a little bit longer, and if that meant running through their list once more, so be it. “You have your lunch?”

“They give us lunch there, Mom.”

“Oh right,” she said, still shocked at how much was provided seeing as this program was free through the University. The children of all faculty and students were allowed to come, and it completely eradicated a need for her to find alternative childcare. Back in the States they had nothing like this built in anywhere. Getting Henry to camp previously either took a funding miracle, an insane amount of luck, or extra shifts at a second job. Usually he stayed with Mrs. H and Emma tried desperately to make it up to their neighbor. But now community sponsored help was becoming a given way of life, and every kid in Montenarro, no matter their background, seemed to have at least one path to a bright and happy summer.

“You’ve got your bag? How about water?”

“Yes and yes. We ran through this already, remember? I told you everything I had while you made breakfast.”

Emma smiled, knowing he was right, as crazy as it sounded. It was wild to her that on a weekday she would have the time, the patience, and the extra bit of cash to afford the spread they ate together today.  They had eggs, fruit, bacon, oatmeal and there were fresh pastries if they wanted. It was like their special holiday brunch, which happened on Christmas or on one of their birthdays, but they’d had this or something similar every day for nearly two weeks. It might seem over the top, but between the later starting hours here in Montenarro, her reduced work schedule with a generous stipend, and the fairer prices at the markets, Emma finally felt like she could give her son what he deserved. For years they’d chowed down on discount cereal, and now, in an attempt to enjoy themselves and resemble their new neighbors, they were taking a slower, and far and away more luxurious approach.

“I remember, kid. So I’ll be back here at four, and if I’m a little late -,”

“I just hang out a while longer, I know,” Henry said, looking to the doorway. A grin appeared at his face as he spotted one of his new friends. The other young boy waved in their direction and Henry waved back, causing Emma’s heart to melt. Her son not only had friends here, he was thriving. He was so happy, and seeing him this way made her happy too. “You don’t have to rush, Mom. I know your work ends early now, but maybe you could do something just for yourself.”

“Are you trying to tell me you’d rather stay later?” Emma asked, and Henry looked embarrassed for a moment before nodding.

“Not too much later, but Michael and Talia stay until five, and we’ve got this cool game going that we made up yesterday. It’s kind of hard to explain. But I can come home at four still. It’s okay, I’ll just -,”

“No, no, Henry, I am thrilled that you’re having a good time. I’ll be here at five.”

“Cool! Thanks, Mom!” Henry exclaimed, giving her a quick hug before heading for the door. “See you at five!”

She watched him get in safely, and the director of the camp who she’d met last week wished her a fond hello as she checked in Henry. Her greeting was pleasant and polite, and Emma knew if she had time the woman would talk her ear off about what it was like to be from America or the upcoming summer festivals. As it was though, Emma had to get going. She wasn’t late for work or anything, but she was eager to get there. Her work at the JR foundation was shaping up to be amazing. She was learning a lot, but she already felt like one of the team. Everyone who was there appreciated her, not just for working and helping out, but for her ideas. They were so responsive to suggestions, and always willing to try out any new concepts Emma had only really read about in books.

Their director, Marco, wasn’t like a normal boss. He didn’t hover or micromanage or come across as inaccessible. In fact, despite all the other calls on his time, Marco was with them all helping the kids and participating in their activities as much as he could. That leadership was so amazing in a space like this, and from everything Emma had experienced, the precedent he set was entirely reflective of the culture at large. Every person at the institute was determined to do right by these kids, and the children, despite the sad circumstances surrounding most of their lives, were doing so well and seemed so happy despite it all.

It was only a few city blocks from Henry’s camp to the center, but Emma let herself linger in the walk. She moved more slowly, matching the pace of the people around her, who never seemed to rush, and instead just enjoyed each day as it came. People were always smiling and laughing, and even the fighting was good natured. The streets were bustling but not full. They were cleaned regularly, maintaining the gorgeous cobblestone walks and the beautiful vintage architecture. It was warm here – a quintessential coastal retreat in the Mediterranean that she’d only ever imagined in her dreams or seen on travel TV. Everything considered, it was the opposite of New York, and despite having lived in the city she and Henry called home for more than ten years, Emma had to admit she didn’t miss it… at least not as much as she thought she would.

Don’t get too attached, Emma. This is temporary. Enjoy it while you can, but your real life is nothing like this.

The voice in her head was negative, but had a point, and Emma had no choice but to heed the advice. She would enjoy every bit of this she could, but she couldn’t get too comfortable, otherwise she’d miss this when they left. Even thinking of the heartbreak that may come if Henry continued to love it here so much left her reeling, but Emma carried on, pushing down that worry as she made her way past the institute’s front gates. It was important that she be in the right headspace when walking through these doors. The kids deserved her at 100%, and that was what she planned to be for them. Shaking off the worry from moments ago she moved inside, and as soon as she arrived, she was greeted by the sound of children running and laughing.

Some people might look at this place right now, apparently filled to the brim with kids who were wired and excitable now that it was officially summer and the school term was over, and think that this was chaos, but Emma knew better by now. Every child here ranging in age from six months to sixteen was attended to and accounted for. They had a large brood of kids, with sixty-seven at last count, and this was the biggest home under the JR foundation, though there were half a dozen more around the small country. Many children who were here would eventually be adopted, or would merge into part of a nationally funded fostering program, known for being one of the best systems in the world. In their last two years of school, older children went to special homes or foster placements designed just for them, to give them the attention and time they needed (instead of leaving them to the wayside for the sake of younger, needier children), and to prepare them for life outside of the system. Emma would eventually shadow a center that worked with those young adults, but for now, she was enjoying the hustle and bustle of the general group.

“Look, Char, it’s Emma!” one young boy named Thomas proclaimed to his little sister Charlotte from across the room, and in seconds every child had turned and was excitedly greeting her. Some of them came right up to hug her or give her a high five, but at the very least they all nodded in her direction and chirped out a fond hello.

“Good morning everyone,” Emma said, noticing the bags along the doorway and how the older kids were dressed in a uniform of navy colored shorts and florescent green shirts. “Did I miss something?” Emma asked aloud, not really to anyone in particular, but an answer came from one of the institute’s most trusted sources.

“Flora is taking the older children to the seaside today for a science lesson.”

The woman who filled Emma in was named Elsa, and despite the humidity in the air and the exuberance of the children all around them, she was totally put together and looked completely unstressed. Her hair was tied back in her usual braid, and her turquoise colored summer dress flowed in a way that looked poised for a summer catalogue. Elsa was effortless in an enviable way, but she was so kind and eager to be of help that Emma couldn’t begin to muster jealousy. In a short time Emma had begun to consider Elsa a friend, but though the two of them were roughly the same age, Emma was still a student and Elsa was a fully-fledged child psychologist who lived at the institute full time. She, and her sister Anna, who also worked at the institute, but as an activity’s coordinator, were two peas in a pod, but they’d done everything they could to include Emma and help her get her bearings in this new world.

“Lessons? In the summer?” Emma asked, not surprised that the institute was providing supplementary schooling year-round. She’d seen as much since starting here, but she was more taken aback at how excited these kids looked. Every child aged ten and older was gathered down here, no doubt waiting to fill the two institute vans out back. Still, how fun could a science lesson be?

“We use the term lessons lightly. For the rest of the morning the children will explore the tide pools at the national endowment’s shoreline about an hour north. There are some very unique ecosystems there, and so there is a whole lot to learn. But Flora will have them break for lunch and Anna takes over in the afternoon.”

“What’s she got in store for them?” Emma asked and Elsa shook her head.

“Well I can’t exactly say, as I’ve been sworn to secrecy.” Her smile grew at how silly that sounded, and she looked over her shoulder to check for Anna, but gave a little more when she saw that the coast was clear. “Let’s just say it’s going to be a jam-packed day that will go out with a blaze of glory.”

The emphasis Elsa used on the word ‘blaze’ made Emma think that there would likely be a beachside bonfire included, but before she could get confirmation, things started moving quickly. The older kids were summoned to the shuttles to go out for their day, and Emma meanwhile saw the clock and realized it was time for her to report to Marco’s office to get her assignment for the day. Moving through the playroom and the sunroom, which had the younger children and the babies respectively, she finally found her way and after knocking she walked into the brightly lit hub of all things here at the institute.

“Ah, good morning, Emma,” Marco said with a big smile, waving her in and gesturing that she should take a seat beside one of the other workers at the institute, Marie. Marie was Marco’s second in command, and though she never used the phase herself, the children had taken to calling her Nana. She had a maternal way about her, and every child seemed to love her as they might a favorite grandmother. “You’re here just in time. I’ve been talking with Marie and we think that today would be a perfect opportunity to try one of your intervention measures.”

“Really?” Emma asked, surprised, but excited at the thought. This would be the third that they had tried, and the last two had gone off without a hitch. “Which one?”

“The ‘Music Makes Me…’ one seems like a good choice. We have a few children who, to now, have been less responsive to our normal socializing measures. Their either shy or hurting, and we’re hoping to help them open up. Elsa’s our counselor on shift today and she’s eager to help oversee this. You’ll take the lead, but she’ll be there for any help you might need. We realize it’s a long-term project,” Marco said, looking down at a piece of paper to check his facts. “You wrote here three times a week for eight weeks. Is that right?”

“Yes, sir. Ideally. Positive identity work can start yielding results as soon as three weeks, but the Princeton Psychology Review did a study this winter that showed children’s habit forming reaches its peak effectiveness after the eight-week mark.”

“And this is one of the projects you modeled off of your own parenting experience, correct?” Marco asked as Emma nodded. Her throat grew tight at the genuine emotion behind this tactic, but this was a place with people she trusted not to judge her. As such, she shared what sparked the idea.

“When Henry first started school, he was one of the only kids that wasn’t in a two-parent household. Even the other single parents had some sort of family behind them, like grandparents, aunts and uncles, or other kids. I’m not exactly sure how long he struggled with being different in that way, he’s an independent kid and he kept his pain over that closed in, probably to spare me from being worried. But when his teachers gave me their assessment and told me what they thought was happening, I set something not dissimilar to this up. We tried painting and crafting to express his emotions, but the music seemed to help so much more.”

“It’s really remarkable, the way you’ve melded your experience with your son and your own past in with all of this cutting-edge research. It’s one of the many reasons we’re so thrilled you’re with us this year,” Marie said cheerfully and Emma warmed at the comment. Telling the story of her son’s pain at not having a father, however vague she had kept it, was hard, especially because Emma lay awake many nights wondering if he was missing something fundamental by not having a father. She wondered if it may hurt him in the long run. But she was reassured by the fact that she always did her best for Henry, and that her experience could help not just her son, but the children here who had no present parents at all.  

“Given that it’s rather late notice, do you think you can manage? We’ve got a window right now for a few hours. Elsa’s already selected the children who may need the intervention most. She kept it in the 5-8 age range as you suggested.”

Emma immediately assured them that she could pull this together, as the concept was not hard. Basically what this practice/exercise included was playing music that was grounded in emotion. Some that were happy, some more subdued, some fast, and some slow, and encouraging kids to do what they wanted when they heard that. For Henry he’d always loved to run around and dance at the fast-paced songs. Then the slower ones were always more interesting. Sometimes he picked up a favorite toy, drew a picture on the supplies she left out, or created his own little imaginary game. All the while, however, Emma’s job was to engage, support, and ask questions.

The questions always started mildly. What’s your favorite color today? (she’d learned early not to box her son into ultimate favorites). If you could have any snack in the world what would you choose? What animal makes the funniest sound? Then the questions would evolve. Her son, like many kids, was a vivid dreamer and Emma often asked about those night time visions. Sometimes they meant nothing but sometimes they told her a lot. She wanted to include that with these kids, but also include more focused questions to them about how they felt here at the institute, what they felt like when they told people from the outside about living here, and what they dreamed of for the future. She’d always ended each session with Henry in two parts. The first was to ask Henry what his biggest wish was for someone else, and the second was to ask his biggest wish for himself. Kids at his age were filled with wishes and wants, but Emma knew from personal experience, that that may already be flickering away in kids without parents. She’d been seven years old when her hope truly started to fade away, and she believed if she’d had these kind of positive affirmations and people who were working to see her happy and well situated, her relationship with the world and herself would have been much easier.

In the end, Marco, Marie, and Elsa decided that there were five best candidates for today’s intervention. Stella and Timothy were a biological brother and sister who had been at the institute for about a year. They were eight and six, and both of them were doing pretty well despite their parents losing custody of them from continued problems with substance abuse. They were likely moving into a fostering situation by the end of the summer, but they had been here a bit longer than normal because they were bonded together and making that accommodation took patience and the right placement. According to Elsa, Stella’s teachers a few times had mentioned her shyness, especially when people brought up her home life. Malek was a seven-year-old boy from a similar situation, though his father was in the process of getting clean for his son. The institute was always cautious for replacement with parents who struggled, but if his father could demonstrate stability and stay clean a full year, the legal system would grant him custody again. Malek, understandably, had mixed feelings about going back, and Emma wanted to try and help him with those through this process. Carlos, meanwhile, was a rambunctious six-year-old who had been given up at birth. He was shaped by his status as an orphan, and had a few close adoption calls that ultimately fell through. Luckily, though, a new family with sincere interest and the means to take care of him was stepping up, and they had exactly eight weeks before the system would process their filing for adoption, a perfect amount of time to help Carlos with some of these image issues before he settled into his new home.

The final child in Emma’s care today, however, was Cecilia, or as the other children called her, ‘CeeCee.’ Cecelia was a newcomer to the institute, and at just barely five years old, she was the youngest in Emma’s group today. She was quiet and withdrawn, but given her background that was all to be expected. At such a young age Cecelia had already been through so much. When she was two her parents had tragically passed in a car accident, and she’d moved in with her grandmother. Her grandmother was loving and did everything she could for her, but she was in poor health, and was now in need of care herself. Emma wasn’t here on the day that Cecelia came to the foundation, but Elsa had mentioned it with tears in her eyes a few days prior.

“I’ve seen so much heartbreak in this job, but watching that little girl realize she was being left behind… It was awful. She cried so quietly and for so long. It took us weeks to get her to say anything at all.”

Even now Cecelia was always quiet. She’d blended in a bit more with the other children, but she wasn’t particularly bonded to any of them. She had grown to be more trusting of the adults, but not in a really promising way. With Emma she’d always been sweet and well-tempered, but Emma hoped that this process might help her, and might get her to a place where she could be better socialized and cared for.  The next few hours proved to be even more promising than Emma dared to hope. All five children not only had fun, but made good steps towards progress. They all confided a little bit in Emma and Elsa, and they all responded well to the method. When Emma asked them if they’d like to do this again in a few days, all five of them were thrilled, and little Cecelia, who was normally so shy, was the biggest shock of all. Over the course of the few hours she’d opened up so much to Emma, and by the end of the session she was holding Emma’s hand tightly, intent on going with her through her day. Emma was so happy to see this little girl doing so much better, and she had to admit she was invested in this child, perhaps more than any other she’d met so far at the institute.

“Do you think it’s all right?” Emma asked, motioning downwards, but not saying everything aloud. The last thing she wanted was for Cecelia to not feel wanted when she’d made such tremendous progress, but she was worried about what might happen if she grew too attached.

“This happens sometimes. Kids have a sense for safe spaces. She was already responding really well to you before,” Elsa said, crouching down and waving at Cecelia, sharing a soft compliment for the toy rabbit she was carrying with her today, which made the little girl smile and chirp out a gentle ‘Thank You.’ Even that little show of gratitude and the genuine smile was an improvement, and Emma felt a burst of pride seeing this young girl come out of her shell. “We’ll keep an eye on it, but I think it’s best to see where it goes. She’s showing no signs of dependency, and hopefully you’ll be the perfect gateway for her to let the rest of us in.”

Emma hoped that Elsa was right, and as everyone in the center gathered for lunch, Cecelia stayed close by. Emma did her best to stay attentive to all of the kids who choose to eat with her today, but she also wanted to lead this lost little girl towards others who may be her friends. She was making good progress with another five-year-old named Ava, who was eager to be friendlier with Cecelia, when Marie approached, appearing frazzled and a little shaken.

“Is everything all right?” Emma asked, careful to keep her words calm and her tone even so as not to scare the kids. Her instincts were that something bad must be happening, but Marie shook her head, quickly dispelling her of that notion.

“Everything is wonderful, dear. We just have an unexpected visitor – actually I guess visitor is the wrong word. He’ll be staying on here for a while to work with us all. It’s a bit unexpected, but I dare say it’ll prove a delight in the end, for us and for the children.”

“Who is it that’s coming?” Emma asked, and Marie looked poised to blurt something out, but then caught herself and weighed her words carefully.

“One of the members of the family who run the foundation.”

Emma now began to understand the sudden rise in stress. Whatever JR stood for, and whichever family it was that could afford to spend so much on these resources, they must be both terribly rich and powerful. Being so new here, Emma didn’t know any background about the endowment, but she hoped that whoever was coming would be a help and not a hindrance. Surely they’d come here and see how much good work was being accomplished. She hated to think they’d be coming to make cuts or roll back funding.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Emma asked and Marie shook her head.

“Oh no dear. You’re doing a wonderful job. This isn’t an assessment of any kind. I believe it’s a genuine act of charity. You see he’s been in the military, and now he’s come home. His family’s no doubt pushing him towards some kind of occupation, and he’s chosen this as his pursuit.”

Emma wanted to ask more, about if this mystery man had any experience with kids or why, even if he was so very rich, Marie displayed school-girlish enthusiasm at his coming, but the older woman moved on to handle something else. Instead Emma waved Elsa over and asked her if she knew the man who was coming.

“Of course I do, everyone knows him,” Elsa said, thoroughly adamant that this stranger was of some notoriety. Then her features softened and she took on a thoughtful expression. “Well I suppose we know of him. We’ve never met, you see. But it’s impossible not to know him.”

Emma nodded, but she was still somewhat surprised. To this point she hadn’t gathered a sense that the family who ran the endowment was exceedingly involved in the day to day of the center. But then again, Elsa had been here far longer than her, and so she probably needed to keep track of the important players who were their most generous donors. Emma could have remained hung up on the strangeness of it all, but instead her mind wandered to the few details she did know. He was a military man, newly home, and he was coming here to make a difference. She thought about that and what that meant, and she found that she already liked him, or at least his attitude. Serving in the armed forces meant a life of service – to come home from that and still want to help others was admirable, and she hoped it would provide a good role model for the children, no matter what his actual child life background might be.

From the window in the great hall where all of the children and staff took their meals, they could all see down the back drive where a second entrance to the center was located. At that moment three black SUVs began their ascent, and the children’s attention immediately perked up as they ran to the windows. Emma felt the growing anticipation at the new arrival, and she wondered why there would need to be three SUVs. It reminded her of the protective details that sometimes came in the city, when big time politicians made their way to city hall where she worked for some sort of meeting or photo op. But what would be the reason for such a display today? Why would anyone need one of those when coming to a children’s center? It was hard to grasp, but then she questioned her instinct. The men who exited from the vehicles weren’t in high profile suits. They were more casually dressed, just like any workers here at the center. She wasn’t able to see all of them, but soon enough there were voices in the hall. Marco and Marie greeted the newcomer, and Emma only caught a snippet of the conversation.

“We’re thrilled to have you here, Sir.”

“Killian, please.”

“Killian. Right, sorry. That may take getting used to.”

“Not a problem. We have time.”

Emma was caught up in the sound of the new voice. It was distant, but even from here she felt an impact at the gravel in the tone and the lilt of the accent. It washed over her, sparking a sizzling sensation that was foreign to her, and after weeks in this country she’d always found the accent pleasing, but never responded like this. She found herself wanting to know what this man looked like, to see what kind of appearance could go with a voice that enticing, but she was getting ahead of herself. What did it matter what he looked like? He was going to be a coworker, right? This was hardly the time or place to be interested in someone. Still her stomach swooped with the tell-tale flutter of butterflies and she shifted in her seat. The action, along with the new voice in the hall, sparked something in Cecelia to change from comfortable to tense. The young girl grabbed at Emma’s shirt, latching on for a sense of perceived safety. Emma’s heart reached out to this poor, sweet girl, and she took her hand gently, trying to assure her as swiftly as she could.

“It’s all right, honey. You’re safe here. I promise.”

“I don’t like strangers,” Cecelia said and Emma tried not to get misty eyed at the sense of uncertainty this little girl held so tight.

“I was a stranger once, wasn’t I?” Emma asked and Cecelia considered that before nodding. 

“But you’re nice to me. You read us stories and play us music. You’re my most favorite friend.”

“And you are my friend too, honey. So let’s wait and see what kind of person he is before we decide if we like him, okay? You never know – he could be your favorite too.”

Cecelia looked skeptical but ultimately agreed, and Emma was glad to have that sorted. She had been so focused on curtailing Cecelia’s worry that she forgot where they were. Now she noticed everyone else was standing, children and staff alike, so she helped Cecelia down from her seat and stood up herself. The sounds of people walking in played out around her, but Emma took a moment to make sure her young charge was settled before looking back up. She patted Cecelia’s hair and brushed her full brown curls from her face, with care. Only then did she look up. But when she did, she never could have expected what would happen. 

As her eyes took in the stranger, their gazes met, and she was struck by a sense of recognition and realization that she’d never felt before. Something clicked for her in that moment, in the first few seconds of their seeing each other, and her awareness grew stronger and stronger. So much bubbled up to the surface, emotions and feelings and desire and interest. It was like something was opened within her, and she felt drawn into this man and unable to resist. This stranger had blue eyes, intense but warm all at once, piercing in a way that they seemed like she knew them and they knew her. Instinctively she looked to the rest of him - Killian he said his name was - but it didn’t help her sense of disorientation. His face was remarkable, strong and sure. His hair was dark, and his figure was no doubt honed for the expectations of his years of military service. She felt herself taking him all in, and then caught herself and thought about what a scene she was making. This wasn’t appropriate. Oggling this man just because he was hot – okay more than hot, he was… god was it lame to say perfect – oh Christ she was doing it again. She needed to stop, but when she looked up at him, she caught him doing the same thing to her. It was incredible to feel his interest, and for a moment it was like the world stopped spinning so the two of them could find each other. 

Find each other? Jesus, Emma, get a grip. The thought ran through her head as Marco began to address them all.

“Everyone, this is our newest friend here at the institute, Killian.”

“You’re big,” a boy named Seamus called out, unceremoniously and for a beat Marco and Marie looked concerned, but Killian only laughed.

“You should see my brother.”

“Is he coming too?” Marie asked, looking like she might actually be done in by the news.

“No, ma’am,” Killian said with a small smile and Marie let out a sigh of relief. What was that about?

“Why do you stand so straight?” another boy asked and Killian explained.

“I was in the royal navy.” This was met by a chorus of oohs and aahs, from the girls and boys alike.

“Are you a good person?” someone asked, and only after a moment did Emma realize it was Cecelia. She was shocked at the display of bravery from her little companion, but then that was compounded by Killian’s movement towards them. He split his looks between Cecelia and her, but when he approached he crouched down so as to be eye level with the little girl.

“What’s your name, little one?”

“Cecelia.”

“Cecelia. That’s a beautiful name,” he said honestly and Cecelia swayed side to side a bit with the compliment. “Now as for your question, I certainly try to be good.”

“But you’re a stranger,” Cecelia said, looking at him with a furrowed brow, as if this was some kind of simple math he should understand.

“For now I am. But not forever, I hope.”

“My Emma was a stranger too. She’s a good person. Are you like my Emma?”

Now Killian rose to full height and he addressed Emma as much as he did Cecelia. “I do like her.” Emma’s heart skipped and then she watched his face shift in embarrassment as he realized what he said. “I mean I hope I’m like her, lass. But only time will tell.”

“Miss Emma, does time talk?” Cecelia asked and Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing as her eyes caught Killian’s again.

“No, honey. It’s an expression. It means that with a little bit of time you will know if he’s a good person. You just have to be patient.”

The look Killian gave her in that moment was packed with so much. Gratitude, interest, and something more. There was a charge between them that she just couldn’t deny, and she could tell he felt it too. But before he could say anymore, Marco called everyone’s attention again.

“Anyone have any ideas as to how we should welcome Killian?” he asked and a chorus of answers came flooding in.

“I know! I know! We should show him our giving tree.”

“No! We should show him our playground!”

“I want to show him my pirate ship!”

“We should feed him the turnovers Cook makes. She hides them in a secret spot but I know where they are!”

“Well that all sounds brilliant, especially the turnovers. Why don’t we do all of it?” Killian asked, before looking to Marco who nodded readily. The kids looked excited, and were eager to go, but before things got too crazy, Killian looked back at Emma and grinned.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Emma.”

And with that, and with so much swag and sexiness it made her a little dizzy, this mysterious new man set off, throwing himself into the deep end with these kids, and showing them all that he could hold as own, just as surely as he could hold her attention.

Post-Note: So there we have it! I know, I know, you’re probably mad I kept their meeting so short and waited until the very end, but next chapter I am planning to include this first meeting from Killian’s POV. This story, as much as any of my stories can, has a bit of a slower build, because there are a lot of elements I really want to include, but I promise there’s plenty of fluff in store and a lot of cuteness that yet to come. Thank you all so much for reading, and I really hope you’ll leave a comment or a review. I’d love to see what you all think and what you’d like to see going forward in this new fic. Anyway, I will do my best to update soon (probably next weekend), but in the meantime I hope you’re all well, safe, and happy in this uncertain time!

[smolbeandrabbles]

The First Time - Orson Krennic x Reader (Rogue One)

GIF CREDIT: @esmesqualor

Author’s Note: First off. There has never been a more appropriate time to gift you Krennic.

@my-world-of-imagines If I’ve told you once, I’ve probably told you 100 times. But seen as it’s your fic that was responsible for me even having a crush on Krennic, it is only appropriate that I bring him out here for your writing challenge. And I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing This is part of @my-world-of-imagines 3K Follower Angst Challange! - Congrats on 3K! ❤ You deserve it! ❤ Phrase: Number 45,  “Wasn’t I worth a goodbye?”

Premise: When your planet aligns with the Empire and you join their ranks, you come face to face with a man you thought you’d never see again. And he owes you an apology... Disclaimer: Krennic, much as I wish he was, is not mine nor was he my idea.  ’Reader’ and her planet are mine. I made that up myself! Words: 2061

Warnings: Romantic Angst, because as always that’s the genre!

Even when you don't have me You can still be the one to hurt me It must feel good to know That I'm still holdin' on to letting go

That's why the past should be the past Far behind, back of mind, out of the way Let the memories burn and crash 'Cause sittin' here... Is just tearin' my heart back in half Like nothing's changed except the time that's passed...

You’d met him on Pravaxiya. A paradise beach planet you just so happened to have the luxury of living on. You knew at the time you were one of many. You’d heard Orson Krennic was partial to parties and kept a long string of lovers. But he never made you feel like you were one. It had been great while it lasted. One endless hot summer... He insisted on letting you in on all his secrets; even those it sounded like he wasn’t supposed to share. He was working on an architectural project here. You liked watching him draw. Every morning he would sit overlooking the crystal clear deep blue water and diamond white sand beaches drawing buildings.... It didn’t seem too good to last. Far from it, sometimes he told you that when he had to leave, he would take you with him. And you must have believed him. Because one day he was just gone. Up in the middle of the night and vanished. And it broke your heart, whether you’d known better or not. Now you faced endless nights in your bed alone. And although it was always summer here, you’d never known it to be colder. What hurt the most for you though was that you’d never had that one last conversation. He’d never told you he was leaving, and he’d never said goodbye. He left the buildings he’d created, though, as some twisted constant reminder. 

 **

 Eventually your planet had been swallowed up by this war too... and you’d joined the ranks of the Empire. And even though you’d always known Krennic would be somewhere you never thought you’d actually see him.  It wasn't that you forgot Krennic. You couldn't. That was impossible. It was that you just didn't ever expect to hear his name; being intelligence you expected him on far away covert missions. And who, in all honesty and in the midst of war, really cared so much about architecture? So, the first time you heard his name your heart skipped. And then you started noticing it. Because apparently, he was now fronting the Advanced Weapons Research division? And he was a Director. Director. That word resounded in your head. That meant he was big news. And there was no way you were ever going to see him again... Clearly, given his new found status you weren't ever worthy of a goodbye. He was way above all that now...  Until you were put on the same ship as him. And the only reason you even knew that was because people spread his name around like an excited whisper. And if they'd been so fortunate as to meet him, they displayed it like a badge of honour. That made your ego swell a little - met him!? You'd loved on that guy. These imperials had no idea. You had information on Orson Krennic that was likely to ruin his reputation... But then, you knew he already HAD that kind of reputation... You weren't even trying to avoid him, you just never saw him around... But you found that was disappointing to you. You couldn't understand why you wanted to see him. That idea was crazy to you. After what he'd done!!? And it wasn’t like you wanted to see him to slap him, or yell at him, or... You actually wanted to see him. To remember what it felt like to hold him close to you again. Y/N GET A GRIP!!!

It didn’t help that you had taken pieces of him with you. Covering the wall of the room you shared with fellow officers were several architectural drawings he had gifted you. You spent every off duty waking hour now staring at them and sinking further into this love-sick depressive state. Your roommate had quizzed you on them more than once. But although you yearned to be back in the place and time he drew them, you never wanted to talk about them; “They are really good! did you draw them?” “No...” “Oh. Who?” “He’s long gone now...”   ** Orson Krennic. Now director. May have moved on. But he’d never forgotten you. And he’d regretted leaving the way he did for the past few years. He always meant to go back, it was a promise he’d made himself, but never been able to keep because of this damned war... He’d been forced off that planet by the Empire. He liked what he was doing there - as well as his architectural work - the planet was known for its rich mining facilities. And he was exploiting that for all it was worth. The stones weren’t exactly Kyber, but until he managed to trace Galen again, he would work with what he had.

He hadn’t had the time to say goodbye though. They had called him to a meeting late in the evening and he’d thought that they’d finally made some kind of scientific breakthrough. No. They were just going to leave and it had to be now, no questions asked. Of course, he was furious and had many, many questions but... He had to act like that was fine. Because if anyone discovered you it wasn’t likely to be his career but your life on the line. He didn’t like that idea. He knew that no matter what he told intelligence they would never believe that he had told you nothing of the super weapon he was helping to construct. He’d hidden it mostly because he was scared of your reaction. But also, because he secretly felt a little in over his head with it. Dammit! He needed Galen Erso! He hated goodbyes; he didn’t often say them unless he wanted them to be so final. Which is why he hadn’t even asked if he could go back to you to say it. But he should have gone back to you to say something... 

He let out a frustrated sigh as he stared at the many stars the ship was idly passing by. Trouble was, everything about being with you on Pravaxiya was so perfect, and everything that had happened to him since then had been from bad to worse. It wasn’t working for him; he was trying to build something for himself too, and as long as the project was stalling that wasn’t happening either. Oh, and Tarkin was sure as hell making sure he knew that! He turned back to his desk. Usually bare aside from his tablet and the single architectural model he’d built as part of his final project during the Futures Program. Today it was also strewn with a few pieces of note paper. Whenever he thought of you, Krennic would start drawing. Because it was something you’d love to see him do. He sat and stared at each of his designs in turn, taking as long as possible over every single one. But they only made his heart ache... Each time he did this he knew... He’d created them for you. He wanted to build them for you... He wanted to take your hand and lead you through whatever city they would be placed in and stand you in front of them and beam and tell you they were all yours... How likely was that to happen now? He already knew, for what he had done, you probably never wanted to see him again… You probably hated him. He'd left to protect you and he couldn’t even tell you that. It wasn’t even about him and what he wanted to achieve. It was about you. It had always been about you.   **   The social gathering was small. You weren't even particularly that interested in going, but your shift mates and your roomie had dragged you along anyway. And you certainly hadn't expected high ranking officials to be there. In fact, you hadn't noticed any until it happened. Those eyes of his were unmistakable as he caught yours and you both froze. He looked just as flawless as you remember, from his neat greying hair, to the cut of his uniform and the long flowing white cape. Easily your favourite part. Neither of you had expected to see the other here, and for different reasons. Hell, he probably didn't even know you were now working for the Empire. And despite everything, despite the fact you knew you wanted his love over anything, despite the fact he held rank over you... You found yourself getting mad. Excusing yourself from your friends you stalked across the room. You weren't thinking, and you were going to get in trouble, but at this point you honestly didn't care if they kicked you out. He had to know. He saw you coming, because he couldn't take his eyes off you. Making him excuse himself from the conversation, and just when you thought he might head your way... He headed in the opposite direction. Oh no, he was NOT getting away from you that easy. He swept through the exit and you let out an angry sigh. No way in hell did Orson Krennic get to do this to you again. Director or not. "Don't you dare walk away from me!" You didn't know where you got the courage to yell it at him across the empty corridor. You also were surprised that he actually stopped. He turned, and at least he had the decency to look guilty "You don't get to do that to me! Not again!"  "Y/N... Let me explain..."  "Save it!" It grated with you how remarkably calm he was, you almost wanted a screaming match, you didn’t want him to look at you like it was all his fault even though it was. It upset you. “Wasn’t I worth a goodbye?” You’d hurt him, his face was too emotional for this job, but you’d really hurt him. “Yes...” He sighed and looked to the floor “Of course you were...” His eyes flicked back to yours “But I didn’t want to say something so final to someone I didn’t want to leave...”  “Then why did you?” “Because I had to.” You shook your head “That’s NOT an excuse!” “The Intelligence Bureau would have torn you apart. They would have taken you away from me. Do you understand that!? Saying Goodbye would have torn me apart... It would tear YOU apart.” He let the silence between you linger because you knew he was right “...I couldn’t do that to you. Not that...” He hesitated for just a second, and you thought you glimpsed a smile “...It implies I would never see you again. Which, by all means is clearly not true.” “So you’d have come back!?” There was too much hope in your voice. There was not enough in his. And it was killing him. He opened his mouth and hesitated again.  "I'm sorry. Y/N. I know why you followed me out here... I Know. But I cannot... I cannot give you what you want from me.” Your smile at the thought he might confess something suddenly turned to heartbreak "What. " You didn’t understand "Forgive me. But I cannot be the man you want me to be..." He backed away a few paces "And this should stay as the glorious summer affair that I will always remember it as.” By now you were in tears "Krennic... Why...!?" "I will not put you in that kind of danger. In that position..." He turned and his cape danced with the movement. How could he walk away from you again when he looked like this? He sighed, still turned away from you as he delivered his next blow, your sobs echoing off the corridor walls "It is unfair on you to keep you here. And it would not serve well for both of us to be in the same ship... I will see you transferred tomorrow." He paused "I did love you. Y/N... But I cannot allow myself to fall for you again now... I am sorry." And he walked. He didn't even glance back. He just walked away from you. Your tears blurred the bright white of his uniform and the black decor into one. You couldn't believe this is how he would leave it. After all this time he would leave you like this. Broken in the middle of a corridor of his own design? And once again, Orson Krennic had left you without a goodbye. 

...And that’s why Goodbye should mean Goodbye, The First Time...

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So... I just went full on ANGST at you. And honestly, he was gonna end up with you/her. He WAS. Until I made a snap judgement to take the ‘angst’ bit and just... Run a little too far. I’m sorry guys... I’m so sorry!!!

Just bookeded the lyrics so the title makes more sense! There! You’re welcome!