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strawberrystepmom · 10 months

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malevolent enterprise ch. 8

ceo au series. gojo x f!reader are endgame. reader is a lawyer and lets gojo treat her to a drink and a little discussion about their past and future, this is a direct follow up to ch. 5. cw: drinking, adults being stupid and coy for no reason. wc 1.9k.

divider thanks to @/cafekitsune | masterlist

To say that bars and clubs are far from your usual scene feels like an understatement. The thrumming music and packed bodies make you feel claustrophobic yet you arrive at one of said clubs, walking on the outskirts of the dance floor and up the stairs toward the private section where you know Gojo awaits.

You debated bailing on him after his invitation for a drink but after several tense conversations with Sukuna throughout the day regarding his lack of legal claim to any part of the company he formerly worked for, you need one badly. His company won’t hurt either even if he is a little brash and obnoxious, maybe it’s just the balm you need to soothe the frustration of working for a tyrant.

The stairs are surprisingly steep and you wonder how women in sky high heels manage to do this every evening, your own stilettos making the arches of your feet ache with each step. You wore them all day and didn’t bother changing out of your work clothes before arriving, your combination of wide leg pants and a form-fitting silk tank top good enough under low light. It’s not like you’re here to impress anyone.

At least that’s what you kept telling yourself while reapplying lipstick in the car on the way over.

Smacking said ruby red lips together, you finally make it to the landing of the stairs and head toward the roped off section, offering a polite smile in return to each curious glance from the Gojo entourage. You recognize a few faces as people the two of you went to college with despite them being a couple years ahead of you. They’re most likely employed by the white haired man paying for their tab, his bad sense of boundaries one of the biggest complaints from anyone who is wise enough to leave and find a job elsewhere.

“There she is!” Satoru’s voice rings through the area and the leggy brunette hanging off of him wrinkles her nose watching you approach. He gently shoves her off of him and pats the cushion on his opposite side, beaming up at you. Even under pulsing club lighting, he’s dazzling. Supernaturally handsome, the purple tones of the lights above shining through his starlight colored hair, reflecting into his eyes and somehow making them even more blue than you remembered them being three seconds ago.

Miss Big Tough Lawyer suddenly isn’t so tough when the man she has wanted for a decade looks at her like that, now is she?

As badly as you want to snip at him for having a woman on his arm, you let the argument die. You came out to have a good time and he’s very clearly choosing you in front of his inner circle, a feeling as heady as it is unfamiliar. This is why you ran from him in the first place - fear of being his last choice.

“I figured I could make an appearance.”

None of your internal nerves appear to be affecting you outwardly and you slide onto the couch next to him, crossing your legs primly and accepting a glass of champagne when the bottle girl hands it to you. You start to dig in your pocket for cash to tip with but Satoru holds a bill out in her direction and she accepts it with a smile. The message is that he wants privacy and she knows that, tucking out of the section easily while the rest of the guests slowly disperse when they notice Gojo’s attention is raptly pointed elsewhere.

“I’m glad that you did, I was starting to get bored.”

Rolling your eyes, you settle into the cushioned back of the couch and his arm naturally wraps around your shoulders and pulls you closer to him, your thigh touching his. Your heart pounds so hard against your chest you fear he can hear your bones rattle but if he does, he pays it no mind.

“How can you possibly get bored with all of these people around all the time? Especially with how badly they all want your attention.”

A cursory glance around this part of the club helps you spot several whispering bundles of women, glancing up at you and then between themselves. Sure, you don’t have supermodel glossy hair or legs that are as tall as the building you work in every day but you’re well aware of your own charms and what you bring to the table.

“They just want attention, it doesn’t matter who it’s from. They’ve already posted all of this in their stories or whatever so they’ll be looking for something more interesting to end the night anyway.”

His tone is light but his words feel heavy and you tip your head to the side curiously, smiling when his glance fully settles on you. It’s hard not to feel like the only two people in the world when he’s around, it’s part of the reason you’ve always been so drawn to him. Everything else ceases to exist and it’s just you and him and those pesky little feelings that are making your sweaty palm stick to the cool glass of your champagne flute.

“You mean to tell me you aren’t the most interesting thing here right now? Could it be that you’re becoming humble in your old age?” He chuckles and drums his fingers against your shoulder and upper arm, your heart beating in time with each tap, tap, tap. “I mean, I’m interesting enough for you so I can’t be all that old and boring now, right?”

Giggling, you shake your head. It’s not like he’s ancient, he’s two years your senior but the playful ribbing makes you feel like you can actually keep up with him. He’s the most intelligent man you’ve ever met even if he pretends he isn’t and makes bad decisions to get people off of his trail. There is depth like that of the ocean beneath the fluttering blue eyes he flashes to get his way and you want to dive in.

“I wouldn’t come to a place like this unless it promised good company so you’re right about that.”

Sipping from your champagne, you relax your shoulders and let the bubbly alcohol lighten your natural intensity.

“I saw your ex out without you a lot so I assumed you just avoided this scene completely.”

“Yeah, it was always more his thing than mine and he has all these friends he’d take out and it was too much for me. You know me, a lightweight that likes to be in bed by ten if possible.”

He does know this about you and it’s what he finds so irresistible. You don’t have the need to climb that other people in your circles possess - you’re more than content to work and go home and mind your business. You are honest and up front about who you are, better or worse. It’s fascinating to a man whose life is so surface level, steeped in glamor and sex appeal on the outside but empty on the inside.

“Is that why you ended it with him?”

Shrugging, you gnaw your lower lip and carefully choose your words before speaking. There are a lot of reasons you ended your relationship with Japan’s seventeenth most eligible bachelor and if you’re honest the biggest one is boredom but that’s hardly something kind enough to say aloud. Especially to the man you’re so thrilled by in comparison to your former long term partner.

“No, I just…” you start and stop and he ceases his finger drumming, still swallowing you whole with this gaze. “I knew he wasn’t the man I’d be happy with forever. Our relationship was comfortable but I want and need more than that.”

It feels absolutely ludicrous to be opening up to Gojo in this way but he’s listening more intently than he ever has and as soon as you get the words off of your chest, you feel lighter. This is the closure you think you’ve been searching for, saying aloud what you were afraid to acknowledge for five years - Shigeo bored you to tears. Nice and patient and kind are all admirable traits but they aren’t everything.

“So you’re looking for Mr. Right and not just a man for right now?”

You snort and shake your head, sipping demurely from the glass of champagne between your fingers. If you sat down and really asked yourself what you’re looking for, the answer would probably be something unbelievably sappy and romantic you do not have the time or want to entertain. Satoru has read between the lines enough for one evening and you don’t have the desire to give him any additional fodder to poke at you with, so you change the subject with a raised brow.

“I think the only person not looking for the right one is you.”

“Well that’s because I’ve already met her, obviously.”

He shrugs and raises a brow to mirror your own. He swipes the champagne flute from between your fingers and drinks the rest of the contents in it in one gulp, smacking his lips together. This is what you want. Someone bold and ridiculous and…Satoru.

You want Satoru and you have for so long it has become a craving. You’ve never been one to indulge yourself too easily, though, so you lean back and away from him, putting yourself just out of reach enough to keep him longing.

“I’m guessing she’s over there in the corner?” You tilt your head in the direction of the woman who was hanging on his shoulder when you arrived, a bored scowl on her face while she idly scrolls on her phone. He chuckles and pushes his glasses up his nose, leaning forward and closing the little distance between the two of you. He knows you’re trying to assemble a wall between the two of you but he has always been good at breaking those down.

“Nah, she’s a lot closer to me than that.”

Your head swims and wrongly you assume it’s from the champagne you only had a swig or two of. You’re intoxicated on something far more potent than booze and the pink color of his lips looks more enticing the longer he speaks but he has a lot to prove before you’re willing to admit everything you’re feeling. Giving in now would just spell disaster and all at once you realize that the upper hand is yours.

“I have to get home some time tonight so I’m gonna head out. Sukuna needs me at 10.”

Rising, you leave on a good note rather than letting him lure you with more bubbly and the promise of a good night. You think of the one time the two of you have had sex often and thoroughly and the memories will surely be enough to carry you through tonight if you need them. The real thing can stay in his spot, on this couch, in this club.

Satoru sighs and it weakens your resolve momentarily.

“Can we do this again?” He asks, dazed and you collect your phone and belongings. “Maybe.” He pouts at your noncommittal answer and tries to pull you down into his lap. As badly as you want to sit and make yourself comfortable for a while, you have to go. You can’t let him win this round, not when your heart is what is at stake.

“I like you.” Gojo whispers in your ear, his almost comically large body serving him well, leaning his chin on your shoulder while you stand beside him. He stays seated and you raise your eyebrows down at him, shaking your head.

“Prove it, Satoru.”

He nods and gently pats your ass, giving you permission to walk away. You slap at his hands and he grins, winking at you when you toss him a glare from over your shoulder.

“Alright but remember that you asked for it.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #malevolent enterprise #kendall writes

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snowbellewells · 1 year

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"Carolina Moon" update {Chapter Two}

Hello Friends! Here we are at last with the next chapter of my @cssns23 fic!! I sincerely never meant to keep everyone waiting so long; real life got really hectic there for a bit, and I had to focus on the job that pays the bills in the few hours that were left over! Anyway, I hope that you'll forgive me and enjoy this update. If it's any sort of consolation, it nearly doubles the length of the story so far...

Also, this story is now moving into M-rated territory. After talking with a few fandom friends and readers, this seems like the way to go to be on the safe side and let everyone know what they're reading upfront. I don't know that I find my love scenes half as spicy as others I've read, but there is one for sure in this chapter, and it will not be the last before all is said and done. I hope that doesn't turn anyone away from reading, but I would rather someone know before starting than be bothered by it after the fact.

**As always, thank you SO MUCH to @eastwesthomeisbest for this beautiful cover art to go along with the story, and to @xarandomdreamx for her thoughtful beta reading comments, suggestions, and encouragement.**

Can be read from the beginning HERE on Tumblr or HERE on AO3

Summary: Emma Swan has returned to the town she grew up in, and the past that has haunted her no matter where she has run. She seeks answers and peace at last. Despite the years that have passed, some things haven't changed very much in Storybrooke, South Carolina, and one of those things is Killian Jones. He never forgot the gangly girl with the world on her shoulders and pain in her eyes, but will he finally be able to slip past her defenses and help her find the answers she seeks?

Chapter Two: Secrets Beneath the Surface

By the time Killian got back home to the family home that afternoon, he could already hear their housekeeper Johanna scolding Ruby from the kitchen, as soon as he crossed the threshold. “Well, what else was you expectin’ Miss Sassy Britches, sashayin’ all over town the way you do? Didja think that would make you a lot of friends ‘mongst the other young ladies?”

Killian kicked off his shoes in the mud room, well aware that the older woman who had practically raised he and Ruby - more so than either of their parents had done - would turn on him next if he tracked up her clean floors. Making his way quietly along the well-worn path to the kitchen at the back of the house, he could practically hear his sister huff and sputter indignantly at Johanna’s rebuke and picture all too well the way she’d roll her eyes and pout, before grumpily going to Johanna’s side and taking up whatever chore the woman had no doubt bid her to help with before their little spat had begun.

It was a rhythm as old as Killian could remember, since almost the first afternoon Johanna Bishop had appeared in their kitchen - cooking, cleaning, puttering and tending to all the essential but seemingly unworthy, household chores his mother simply couldn’t be bothered with. If - as the Jones children had grown - those chores also came to include bandaging scraped knees, soothing hurt feelings, listening to whispered wishes, and cuddling and correcting where needed, well, that had fallen naturally under her purview as well. Even more so when the three children had become just two.

Stopping in the open doorway, Killian leaned against the jamb for a moment, trying to keep his chuckling to himself as he watched his tall, leggy sibling with brilliant red streaks running through her dark hair frowning in deep concentration next to the short, rather round Johanna, trying diligently to match the rosy-cheeked, twinkling-eyed matron’s deft and graceful speed at coring and slicing apples, and failing miserably. He must have made some involuntary noise, however, because both women looked up at him in surprise.

Johanna’s bright eyes smiled at him as her cheeks crinkled with the welcoming grin he could always look forward to, no matter how long he had been gone, whenever he returned. Ruby stuck her tongue out at him when he smirked at her efforts, arching an eyebrow as if to question what in the world she was trying to do.

“Oh? Think you can do better, do you?” she challenged, flipping a discarded peel his way, before Johanna hushed her, not about to have food flying on her watch, just before Mrs. Jones’ formal dinner was expected in the dining room; as formally as it had been expected every night for years.

They all quieted for a moment at that remembrance, none of them necessarily wanting to summon the lady of the house any sooner than necessary - though that feeling went unspoken. Johanna’s nimble fingers flew over her task, the knife flashing with ease, and Killian noticed that Ruby’s movements gained confidence as well the longer she worked at it.

Giving a bit of a playful bow in flirtatious chivalry, he greeted them with, “How can I help, Miss Johanna?” and his most charming grin.

“Oh Sugar,” she demurred, “you don’t need to do nothin’ but pull up a chair and tell me ‘bout your day. Things are almost ready in here.”

Pausing to put a hand on her hip, Ruby mock glared at him, before turning to the older woman in challenge. “And why are you always nagging me, and then turning around and acting just sweet as sugar to Killian? I suppose he’s your favorite now, too?”

Ruby’s question was largely put-on sass, that melted into an unconvinced, “Uh huh, sure,” when Johanna blithely assured her that “Sweetness is as sweetness does.” All the same, Killian could see the doubt underneath her churlishness, and the longing in his sister’s expression, not wanting this one person she depended on, no matter how much they snipe at each other, to dismiss her as everyone else did. Honestly, Killian thought to himself with a guilty pang, he had written her off and disregarded her many times himself over the years. He hadn’t done it to be cruel, more out of his own survival instincts and desire to avoid conflict. Where he had withdrawn into his own thoughts, focused on achieving goals, meeting the standards set for him, making up for what had been lost, even if he ran himself ragged in the attempt, Ruby had instead completely cut herself free from all boundaries and expectations, going wild, or at least appearing so to the untrained eye. The moment she had gotten the chance, she’d fled Storybrooke on the back of her boyfriend’s Harley - eloping and not returning to Storybrooke until she had seen her fill of everywhere else. She played at nonchalance - as if nothing bothered her or could even penetrate the perfectly painted-on armor their mother had taught her to apply so well long ago.

She hadn’t really been back home that long, but Killian found himself wanting to get to know Ruby all over again, to bridge the gap that had grown between them over the years while they each attempted to weather the hurt and neglect in their own ways. The simplest method for doing that seemed to be in joining the easy banter between Ruby and Johanna, so he waggled both eyebrows at her, both in playful challenge and as an annoyance to his ‘little’ sister, then he circled the island easily to pull Johanna into a side-hug and plant a smacking kiss on the older woman’s cheek before nettling Ruby with, “Hear that? I’m sweetness itself. Maybe you should try a little sweetness sometimes and see how far it gets you.”

Johanna’s softly weathered cheeks crinkled with well-worn laugh lines, even as she rolled her eyes and shooed him away - but not before he snatched a sugar and cinnamon-dusted slice of apple from the pie crust she was crimping, causing Ruby’s eyes to narrow at him further in playful indignation. “You just hush now with all that, Killian Jones,” their housekeeper scolded. “Your sister has more than enough sweetness to share when she takes the notion - you just don’t give her any more reasons to be sour.” And though the woman who had been with their family for as long as Killian could remember, imbuing their kitchen with a warmth and comfort that the rest of the pristine, stately old home notably lacked, was warning him with her words, she also winked at him slyly - letting him know that she was glad he’d joined their fun, and that she was still nettling Ruby a bit herself.

Shaking out her mane of dark hair with a dramatic flounce, and planting her red-lacquer nailed hands on her hips, Ruby fixed them both with a fiery look. “Just the two of you know, plenty of people find me a delight to be around. Maybe I should take myself off somewhere I’m appreciated.” Turning on her heel with all the precision and purpose of a high fashion runway model rather than the demure Southern debutante their mother had hoped for, she stalked toward the doorway which led from the kitchen back into the hall, only to turn around before she left with a retort on her tongue when Johanna called after her.

“You tell that nice Dr. Hunter hello for me, Ruby Jean. You should bring him round here for a nice, home cooked meal sometime. That sweet young man needs a little meat on his bones.”

“But - I didn’t - why do you think- ?” Ruby spluttered indignantly, never finishing any of the attempted comebacks and finally just snapping her mouth closed and shaking her head with vigorous agitation.

Killian would have been laughing at her plight if he hadn’t been so wide-eyed and flummoxed himself by their housekeeper’s words. Oh, he’d known alright that his best friend since grade school had been nursing a painfully awkward silent crush on his remaining sibling, pretty much since puberty. What he’d never realized or noticed as Ruby had chewed up and spit out a first husband and teased and strung along countless other men since, was that maybe she was aware of Graham’s feelings - possibly even returned them.

“And you,” she turned from squinting at Johanna as if sizing her up to point an accusing finger at Killian, “don’t just think you can come in here and take over the one room in this place where I can actually breathe, just because you’re the family’s perfect prince and entitled to whatever you want.”

Killian jerked back at the sharp edge to her voice until he looked for a moment at the tensed pain of her features behind the dangerously flashing brown eyes. She was hurting - aching, in fact - at the idea that her one ally in her own home might also turn to the heir, her big brother, as well.

He had always known she snapped and hissed partly out of pain; he felt it too. They all did. He missed Rose awfully - more than he would have ever imagined - but to have shared the womb with her? To have been joined with her from birth and then suddenly find her gone? He couldn’t imagine that. And maybe he hadn’t really wanted to see just how much turmoil hid beneath his sister’s vexing habit of picking fights and pretending he drove her crazy, or how much loneliness was painted over with her vivacious bombshell facade. At any rate, he didn’t pick an angle and fight back at her as he normally would have, instead he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, giving a slight dip of the chin and a tentative smile. “Aye, Ru… Well do I know you and Johanna are the undisputed queens of this domain. I only wanted to join you for a moment.”

She huffed as if not knowing quite what to make of his earnest admission, then with a shrug of her shoulders and one more toss of her head, she merely replied, “Whatever you say,” and was gone. But he hadn’t missed that small half smile tilting up one corner of her mouth, or the spark of hope in her eyes. Maybe they weren’t as far removed from each other as he had feared.

Johanna turned and tilted her head up to look at him knowingly before patting him on the cheek and affirming, “You’re a good boy, Killian. You always have been. And you’ve grown into a fine man. Just don’t you give up on that sassy sister of yours, you hear? She needs us more than she’d like to own. Much like Miss Emma, I’ll wager.”

Killian smiled at the older woman warmly before nodding in agreement and scoffing lightly at her uncanny prediction, knowing she had him there and he couldn’t even argue. “You’ve always seen a lot more than we realize, haven’t you?”

She was the one to wink knowingly at him this time. “You’d better believe it,” she retorted. “That’s part of my charm.”

Chuckling and shaking his head, Killian wasn’t about to challenge her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Not half an hour later, at Hunter Veterinary Clinic on the outskirts of town, Graham was closing up for the evening when he heard the bell on the door jangle, signaling someone’s arrival. He was puttering around in the back, making sure that the surgery was cleaned and sterilized for the following morning, and that the mother golden retriever and her unexpected litter of mixed breed pups he’d delivered in a tense, last minute c-section that afternoon were settled in the kennel area for the night, and he had been certain they (he and the dogs) were the only ones still there. He knew that Grace, his summer assistant while she was home from college, was normally careful to be sure the sign was off and the door closed and locked when she left, but maybe she’d forgotten something.

“I’m in back!” he called out distractedly, still running over his mental checklist of closing chores to accomplish as he awaited an answer. “But we’re closed for the evening. Is this an emergenc– “

The door from the waiting room and lobby swung open while he was still speaking, only to reveal a vision that made him choke on the end of his words and nearly swallow his own tongue as well. Graham knew he had flushed all over almost instantaneously at the sight before him, a sweat that was part embarrassment and part lustful attraction breaking out across his skin. His eyes were wide as he shook his head in stunned disbelief, drinking in the temptation of Ruby Jones posing seductively where she leaned against the doorframe and watched him knowingly.

When several silent moments had ticked by, the heat and tension in the room between them only climbing higher, Ruby finally quirked a dark, artfully sculpted brow and smirked at him, those full red lips glistening in a lure so effective Graham could think of nothing but grabbing her, pulling her close, and capturing them with his own until his need was sated. And she knew it too - she always had. Pushing off from the wall and slinking toward him purposefully on blood red kitten heels, she began to unknot the belt of the trench coat cinched at her waist as she fairly purred her response. “Well, you see, Doctor Hunter, it is an emergency. I’m burning up with fever - one only you can break.”

By then, she stood directly in front of him, where he had backed up against the stainless steel surgical table and was clenching and releasing his hands into tight fists, straining mightily to keep himself from grabbing her and clutching much too tightly. Ruby Jones was nothing if not untamed; a wild bird that ventured close, playfully allowing the observer to think he could hold her. But he knew she would flit off and leave him behind again if he made the wrong move. Instead, Graham watched her intently, muscle working in his jaw as her graceful fingers danced across his chest and shoulders, tracing over muscle and skin, inflaming him with her touch as she went. Tilting her head to one side, Ruby shamelessly licked her lip before grinning broadly. “What’s the matter, Hunter? Cat got your tongue?” She snorted at her own little joke. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Bringing her hands to the lapels of the coat she wore, now loosened and unbelted, Ruby parted the fabric on either side and allowed the garment to fall to the floor at their feet. Pleased amusement flooded her veins at Graham’s bulging eyes and gaping mouth. Completely bare beneath the thin jacket, she’d felt a thrill running through her since leaving the house in search of him, and the power sizzling along her nerve endings, where she usually felt as though she were careening out of control, was genuinely intoxicating.

Poor Graham couldn’t seem to move and managed only to hoarsely croak out, “Ruby, w-what are you…? Someone could… could walk in here and see… This is a place of business! You can’t just…” He swallowed hard, and her eyes tracked the reflexive movement of his Adam’s apple with ravenous intent.

“Are you sure about that, Doc?” she teased seductively, clicking the ‘c’ with her tongue exaggeratedly, despite his eyes already being glued to her lips - and every other part of her on display before him. Voice low and throaty, cajoling him to take what he very clearly wanted - what she wanted too - she added, “I’m pretty sure I can actually. I’m standing right here waiting. What are you going to do about it?”

His handsome face reflected his inner conflict for several long moments, and Ruby fought not to hold her breath in worried anticipation. She didn’t care that much if he accepted her offer, she tried to tell herself, but deep down she was well aware of how much of a lie that was. Brow furrowed, Graham struggled to resist her manfully, but it was a lost battle even before he began. He had never been able to deny her; they both knew it, and today would not be any different. At last, with a growl of mingled frustration and lust, he lurched forward, his dexterous, long-fingered hands gripped her hips and pulled them into his own roughly before practically devouring her mouth with an almost maddened groan of arousal.

Sinking into his clutches, Ruby thrilled at his loss of control, all synapses firing and the blood boiling in her arteries as he finally gave her exactly what she wanted. Clinging to his bicep to stay upright as her knees went weak, Ruby plunged her other hand into his hair, mussing the honey-coloured curls he’d never outgrown between her fingers and pulling them tightly in response to his ardent desire and how he was further igniting her own.

Desperate by then, Graham was long past caring who might have seen her walk in past closing, what small town rumors might get started, whether or not Ruby was simply using him again to have a little fun and forget the past that nipped at her heels, and how he knew it would chip away another small piece of his soul when they finished and she wouldn’t stay in his arms. Whirling to push her back against the exam table in the center of the room, earning him an enthusiastic moan from deep in Ruby’s throat, even muffled by his own lips over hers. Sweeping a hand over the cool, hard surface with reckless abandon, Graham cleared it to easily lift her onto the tabletop and soon had her spread out on it, frantically working to strip out of his lab coat and remove his shirt, even as her grasping hands fumbled for the button and zipper of of his pants to free him to her touch.

Writhing against him, Ruby grinned up at him wolfishly, her cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling, every bit the goddess he’d never been able to deny a thing: the dessert from his sack lunch, the use of his first car, and every inch of his body and corner of his heart. She wrapped her long legs around his trim hips, demandingly pulling him closer still, before he thrust forward and finally sunk into her willing body, welcomed home once more.

Leaning over her as he moved, Graham captured her nipple between his teeth, his scruff abrading the sensitive skin around it as he did and stealing her breath when he bit down just at the edge of too much. He captured both her hands, twining their fingers together and pressing them to the steel surface on either side of her head. Setting the rhythm they both craved, feeling the rightness of what he had missed echoing through his body as they moved together, Graham forced himself to take the moment he had; enjoy it, love her enough so that she would feel it, despite refusing to see what they could have always, and not let himself think of what came after.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Killian had just left the kitchen, still contemplating his relationship with his sister and the things Johanna had told him, when he was brought up short by the regal, silent appearance of his mother, Cora Jones, the once-belle of Storybrooke, in the hall nearby, studying him with an icy assessment which made him feel distinctly like she had heard all they had said and could read his mind beside. Forcing himself not to startle or recoil physically like some teenager caught sneaking out past curfew (he had actually never been caught at that in his youth, though by the time he’d had a license and places to run, the dangers parents fear for their children at night had long since struck and the damage been done) Killian gave his mother a nod of respectful deference, smiling at her carefully and waited, knowing there must be something she intended to say.

Cora’s bearing was still poised and correct, standing straight enough to appear taller than her actual height, her chin tilted rather haughtily. Even in the comfort of her own home, before no one but her eldest child, her skirt and jacket ensemble was impeccably tailored and she had not a hair out of place, her makeup flawless. Her eyes had lost none of their shrewdness as she moved nearer to her golden years. And Killian couldn’t help wondering with a blend of bitter sadness if she would allow anything about them to be golden or fulfilling. His mother retained all of the clout and reputation she had held in her prime, but her sharp edges had only grown harder and more jagged with the loss of, first her favored child, and then her husband, to his own grief and poor choices.

He was right of course. A moment later Cora’s clear, measured voice reached his ears with unmistakable authority; as always, she meant what she said and expected to be obeyed. Though his mother had never been especially warm or effusive, Killian had always known she was pleased with him, proud that he was living up to the Jones family name as she saw fit. Things he really had no power or control over - his natural good looks, athleticism, intellect, and so on - were only to be expected, and so, when he excelled in school, made the papers and the Homecoming court, and earned a college scholarship, or when the other mothers in her social circle all enviously wanted their daughters to catch his eye, well then Killian was merely behaving as he ought and garnering just the sort of attention she had hoped he would. He had grown up following in his father’s footsteps, learning all he could about running their small shipping business and how to manage all that would one day be his.

Killian had never rebelled or railed against the expectations, the assumption that he would blindly follow along on the path laid out for him, until recently. He had made several changes to modernize and streamline the business - almost two years ago now - and things had been tense between he and his mother as a result. Cora did not welcome change in any arena, not unless it was on her orders, and though she deeply resented her husband’s gradual decline and eventual abandonment at his death, she did not see why Killian needed to upgrade what had always worked well for Brennan. She had gone as far as threatening to withdraw her shares from the operation until Killian’s changes had doubled - then tripled - their profits, word of mouth bringing in a steady stream of new clients and renewed raves from established ones at their company’s efficiency and success. There was no arguing with such hard evidence, and so Cora had grudgingly relented, but she had not forgotten.

However, even at a glance, Killian could see that the bone she meant to pick with him would not be resolved with patience and time. He gritted his teeth against offering a harsh warning for her to save her breath. He knew before she spoke a word what she wanted to discuss, but this time she would find him every bit as unyielding as she was herself.

Without further preamble, Cora leveled her accusation. “You’re renting that cabin on the marsh to her, aren’t you? Despite what she’s done, and knowing how it would displease me, you’ve let that Swan girl waltz right back into our lives and invited her to make herself at home. I simply cannot understand it, Killian.” Her words were clipped out distinctly, but as cold and pointed as chips of ice. “Do you not remember what associating with the likes of her cost your sister? Or are you looking for a reason to spite me? I hardly think I have done anything to merit such hurtful defiance.”

She waited, seeming to have all the time in the world for her son’s reply, but Killian was still tempted to stare back, challenging her silently, waiting to speak until he discovered whether the pristine veneer she presented to her family right along with the rest of the world would crack and show some human feeling underneath. In the end though, Killian couldn’t hold out forever; she was still his mother, and despite his frustration, the manners she had pressed into him from birth would not allow it. Not only that, but he knew what she had suffered, the pain and loss she had endured - just as he had. It might have made her brittle and untouchable, but he always had the hope somehow that things might thaw between them yet.

With a sigh, he released the answer on a low breath, still meeting her eyes to let her know both his resolve and that he was hardly ashamed of his choices. “You clearly already know that I am, Mother. Though you might not believe this, it was not a decision made to hurt anyone - least of all you. Emma Swan is moving back into town. She needed a place to stay, and ours was available to rent. Honestly, I was glad to have it, to do something to help her out after how horribly we treated her years ago.”

He meant every word, but, as he had expected, her eyes widened with indignance, her voice finally losing its polished control. “What we did to her?!” Cora Jones spluttered, clearly appalled and faintly trembling in her righteous anger. “It was she who took our sweet angel from us. If we had kept Rose away from her… If she hadn’t crept out to meet that vagabond child…. Rose would still be here!”

Killian had heard this argument many times, yet the unfairness of it never ceased to stoke his own temper. Fighting to remain calm, he tried to reason with his mother, to speak in a tone that still remained civil - tightly wound as it was and on the knife’s edge of tipping over. “You know as well as I do that Ms. Swan is not Rose’s killer. There was never any chance of that. She was thirteen years old, still a child just like Rose, and Rose was her only friend in the world. She was as devastated as we were.”

Cora could not have appeared any more injured or insulted if he had drawn back his hand to strike her. “No one has suffered as we have,” she hissed, eyes flashing dangerously, “certainly not that little she-devil! How dare you even suggest it?” She took a seething step closer, appearing as taken by emotion as Killian had seen her through the smooth, proper mask in years. “You mark my words, Killian,” she continued distinctly, eyes boring into him like pinpricks through his skin, “you may have control of this family’s land, the business, all the executive decisions your father left to you as intended, but I do not condone you allowing that woman to live on our property. Not even for a second, do you hear me? There is something not right about her - always has been - and you will live to regret letting her back into our world. Rose must be rolling over in her grave at the very thought - “

Flinching away so abruptly that his mother’s words were cut off and they both stood, breathing harshly in the horrible silence, Killian finally shook his head sadly and broke eye contact. He turned to leave, at last seeing with regrettable finality that Cora Jones would never change her mind, not for anyone or anything, no matter how much time passed. At the door, he looked back at her, his eyes betraying the strange mix of pity and bitterness she had stirred up in him anew. “You’re the one who should feel regret. Rose was good and kind, the best of us all. It would break her heart to know you’ve spent all these years holding a grudge and nurturing hatred against the person she considered another sister. I am finally thinking about what Rose would have wanted. Then maybe we can all let her rest in peace.”

That final admonition voiced, Killian was out the door in the next instant, letting it slam behind him exactly as he had been reprimanded against all his life. Even as one part of him cringed, he also felt a thrill of petty satisfaction too, knowing it made Cora crazy for such noisy outward shows of temper and bad breeding to be on display. Hurrying down the wide front steps to his truck, Killian gripped his keys in hand tightly, not at all sure where he was going, only that any place seemed preferable at that moment.

His cell went off, just as he reached the driver’s side door. Fishing it out as he settled into his seat, Killian pulled the door closed behind him and answered to find Graham on the other end of the line. Too relieved to turn his energy to something - anything - else but the argument he had left behind, Killian didn’t dwell long on why Graham sounded out of breath, cagey, and awkward as he explained how he had planned to meet Emma at the end of the work day, take her to dinner, and then go with her out to the cabin and help her make sure she at least had enough unpacking done to settle in there for the night. It turned out something had come up, and would Killian mind going to meet Emma instead?

While a part of him wasn’t at all sure how fond Emma would be of the development, he couldn’t deny the way his insides leapt at the opportunity to see Emma Swan again and spend some more time with her. Especially if it kept him away from the lit powder keg his home had just become.

“Not sure how Emma’s going to feel about that,” Killian quipped to his buddy lightly, “but I’ll do it. I’m heading her way right now.”

Graham’s relieved thanks made Killian smile as they said goodbye, wondering vaguely what had his friend all tangled up in knots, but he couldn’t dwell on it long. What almost felt like happy anticipation was creeping up on him, and whatever else might be pressing on him, Killian was simply glad to have an excuse to be near Emma Swan.

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

Some three hours later, Killian’s arms and back ached from lifting heavy boxes and moving them around to various counters and display tables for unpacking, his cheeks ached from grinning and laughing like he hadn’t done in ages, and he knew his eyes must look a bit dazed, mesmerized in Emma’s presence as she breathed some sort of magic into the air around her and onto him, bringing the previously empty and nondescript space to life. She didn’t seem to keep much of the warmth and humor for herself, however, Killian noted painfully, but it was easily felt standing next to her, and his fingers itched to grasp her, to pull her in and hold her tight, give back to her some of the warmth he had felt since he’d walked into her new little shop - particularly welcome after the chill of his encounters with his own family just before he’d arrived.

Thankfully, Emma hadn’t seemed averse to his visit and offer of help, to be followed by dinner in his friend’s stead. She was possibly a little hesitant and uncertain of why he wanted to help out and spend time with her, but it did his conscience good to see that she seemed willing to at least see how the evening went.

After the initial bit of awkwardness upon his arrival, Killian had assured Emma that she should put him to work. Once she had done so, they’d had their hands full and the conversation had begun to flow between them. She was incredibly knowledgeable - not that Killian was surprised, she had always been smart and eager to learn, one of many things she and Rose had shared in common - but he’d never been able to hear her really speak unabashedly about something she loved. Not only did she have an engaging and eclectic collection of art and photography by several known artists, but she also had numerous pieces of her own photography available for purchase as well. When Emma began talking about how she had captured some of the shots, and what she hoped they conveyed, Killian simply couldn’t look away from her features that had come to life with enthusiasm, her eyes alight. It was enchanting; he could think of no other word for it. His lips curved upward irresistibly, without his really even noticing it until she paused, cocking her head curiously before asking, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Startling from the reverie he’d slipped into on the rise and fall of her words, Killian smiled back at her, shaking his head slowly in amazement. “Just marveling at you, honestly. You’re brilliant, Emma.”

“Hardly,” she retorted, making a dismissive noise and waving off his praise, though the pleased blush on her cheeks unmistakably belied her words.

“No, truly… You’ve got a real gift.”

Emma shrugged noncommittally, but didn’t argue with him further, instead she merely studied the photograph on the countertop in front of her, matted but still in need of framing. A wry, wistful tone slipped into her voice as she spoke then, more quietly than she had before, “Well, that’s at least one instance when my added sight is a pleasant benefit.”

Killian’s eyes widened, his attention even more fully captured than it had been, curious as to what she might say next. Emma rarely - if ever - offered to comment on her visions and the things she knew because of them voluntarily. He bit his lip to keep from speaking, from verbally nudging her to continue. Instead he watched, waiting hopefully, breath held, for her to do so if she chose.

Looking up, Emma caught his eyes, but the soul-searching expression pierced right through his chest. “It’s as if the person or animal or place in front of the camera tells me the story it wants to share.” Shaking her head helplessly after that admission, she chuckled at herself before adding, “Yeah, I know that sounds completely crazy.”

“Not at all, Swan,” he breathes, the nickname sliding from his lips naturally and without thought, neither of them reacting to it - almost as if he had never called her anything else. “It’s just like I said… amazing.”

For several minutes, no more words were spoken, the quiet stretching comfortably between them as the shadows of evening lengthened outside the big front window. It was nearly seven-thirty, well past time for dinner, and they both laughed when his stomach rumbled loudly, breaking the spell between them. “What say you, Swan? Time to find some sustenance?”

Eyes glimmering with a mysterious sort of humor, she hedged, “Would you be willing to take a rain check? It’s been a packed couple of days, and I’m hoping to open in a couple more. I’m exhausted, and really just need to make it an early night.”

Considering her words for a moment, Killian studied her before acquiescing, hoping she wasn’t putting him off when it felt like they’d gotten so much closer over the course of the evening. “Fair enough,” he assented before playfully adding, “but I’ll hold you to that rain check. Unless you’re afraid of finding me even more irresistible after a few libations.” He waggled his heavy dark brows at her devilishly until Emma was laughing out loud at his antics.

Only a few minutes later they were ready to go, Emma locking the door of her shop behind them and Killian following her gallantly to her VW. Turning to look up at him where they stood facing each other on the sidewalk, Emma added, “I really would be glad to go to dinner another time, Killian. It’s been a nice evening, and - to be blunt - I could use a few friends. Just so we’re clear that’s all it is.”

Killian felt a tightening in his chest at her proclamation, disappointment clenching in his gut and alerting him that he had already allowed himself to want so much more. “You’ve already decided that, have you?” he responded, fighting to keep his voice light.

She held his gaze, expression mournful, knowing, and more than a little haunted. “It’s for the best really. Trust me on that. You don’t want to get too close to me. Eventually, I’m too much for anyone to deal with. It gets messy. I’m just sparing us both a lot of hurt in the long run.”

He hummed low in his throat, the deep vibration of the sound almost physically palpable to her as he leaned closer, gauging her reaction with a knowing glimmer in his eye. “You say that now, Swan. And that’s fine, I can be incredibly patient. But I see that there could be so much more between us.”

“Do you indeed?” she queried in an equally teasing measure, his response allowing her to drop the wary seriousness she had spoken with before and banter back with him in return, almost irresistibly.

“Have a gander for yourself if you doubt me,” he offered, holding her gaze, an open expression seeming to lay himself bare before her. “I am an open book to you… just as you are to me.”

Emma caught her breath, helpless but to stare back into his eyes as he asked. Guard down, walls lowered, there was a flash behind her eyes of bare limbs moving in unison, heavy pants of exertion, whispered endearments in a familiar timbre, and a shattered cry of completion in a voice sounding much like her own.

Blinking free and pulling away with a gasp, she knew what she’d seen, and flushed from the roots of her hair outward. “What was that?” she whispered, almost to herself, even as she knew exactly what she had witnessed. Never had she experienced such a glimpse of something so pleasurable it left her quivering with unquenched need.

“I think you know,” Killian replied with a roguish smirk, though his voice was gentle, almost hiding the slight hurt that swam in the crystal blue of his eyes at the distance she still tried to keep between them. “Possibly the dessert we could enjoy if you let a nice dinner for us progress to its natural conclusion?”

Nodding, she regained her equilibrium at last and reached out to pat him on the shoulder with a sort of playful camaraderie. “Hmm… well, maybe you’d better keep those thoughts to yourself for now,” she taunted. Still, as she settled into the driver’s seat and waved to him while backing away from the curb and pulling onto the street, Killian could see a deep and fragile longing behind her practical nonchalance. She wanted, just as he did; that closeness and heat and belonging, but she wouldn’t allow it for herself. She didn’t trust that anything good could last - and why would she, after all that she had survived already? Possibly she had waited so long to be loved, to feel wanted, that when it was placed before her, she denied what was being offered. While that might have worked for most, he wasn’t going to stay at a careful distance. Not when he could see the loneliness and yearning in her, as clearly as he could see it in his own mirror each morning. He would keep coming back, closer and closer each time, until maybe they could both find what they had been living without for so long.

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#cssns23 #cs au mc #cs ff #carolina moon #chapter two

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