Connor coming home to a surprise birthday party thrown by Ollie w/ the help of the Keating Four. :D
(Note: changed it a bit cause I think surprise parties in your own house are too obvious.)
Michaela is the worst liar. At this point it breaks his heart a bit, since they’re in much too deep with this and she’s probably doomed to get a perfect score on the bar exam and all for nothing, because Michaela can’t like - what kind of lawyer is she going to be?
“Can you let up please? You don’t need me to help you build anything. I can’t fucking build anything from IKEA I don’t know where you got that idea.”
“I don’t need your spacial reasoning I just need another person to help me put the bookcase together that’s all. I’m single and it’s depressing enough without failing to put furniture together.”
“Can we do it tomorrow, please,” he whines even as he pulls up to her house. What else could he do after she’d jumped into his passenger seat but drive her home? “I just want to get home to my boyfriend and lasagna probably and then birthday sex and that’s all I want. I don’t want to build your stupid bookcase.”
Once their parked she snatches the keys from the ignition and grins. “Come on up!”
He practically chases her up the stairs and he’s out of breath by the third floor, she’s already opened her apartment and left the door ajar for him like the brat that she is.
He practically flings himself into the apartment, but when he does he’s met not by some half built IKEA disaster and Micheala’s annoying face, but instead by Oliver’s gigantic smile and a small crowd of people screaming surprise! at him.
He huffs out a laugh and looks at Oliver, who has already wrapped an arm around his waist.
“Surprise,” he whispers in his ear.
“What is this?”
“This? Um me and the only four other people you ever talk to, three of their dates and your sister. Happy birthday,” he says with a smile as the others around him high five each other on a job well done and start attacking the food.
“You’re crazy,” he tells Oliver quietly, “you’re nuts.”
“You deserve this,” Oliver answers.
He takes a deep breath and then kisses him, slow and sweet and a little bit dirty until Asher starts whooping in the background. Connor pulls away and rolls his eyes. “Happy birthday to me.”
A/N: Happy (belated) Birthday, sheriffswan! Adri, you are precious – fiercely loyal and loving and kind, and we all are so, so lucky to have you <3 Thank you for your friendship, sweet pea :)) XO
I want to tell you so
Before the sun goes dark
How to hold my heart
Cause I don’t want to let go
Let go, let go of you
Her chest aches, breath caught in her lungs as her heart beats out an unsteady staccato rhythm. She doesn’t know how the hell she got here, how the hell they got here, she just knows that this is her life now, and she is terrified.
She swallows back the lump of emotion — raw, overwhelming, frightening — lodged in her throat and let’s out a ragged breath as she rests her forehead against the cool glass of her bedroom window. Jesus. She can’t do this. It’s too much. She has no idea how she ever thought that she could do this, but she can’t.
His voice is a sleepy murmur in the moonlight, rough and tinged around the edges with concern — it makes her stomach clench and her eyes close and God, she can’t. The silence stretches on and she knows he’s studying her, worrying about her, but it’s not until she hears the blankets rustle as he pushes them away that she glances back over at him. He pauses when their eyes meet, brow creasing as he frowns, and her fingers itch to soothe the lines away. She curses internally at the thought while she crosses her arms defensively around herself.
“I’m okay,” she tells him.
He moves to the edge of the bed, sliding his legs over as he keeps his gaze on hers. “C’mere,” he gestures at her with his hand, beckons her to close the distance between them. He scratches behind his ear then sighs when she stubbornly stays put. “Love, please?”
Her heart skips a beat at the simple request and she hesitates for only a second more before padding back over to him. (She is weak, so, so weak where he is concerned.) He reaches out and fingers at the hem of her sleep shirt (his black shirt he wears beneath his waistcoat) and tips his face up to hers, eyes huge and deeply blue and far too knowing for his (and her) own good, as she steps between his legs. His hair is mussed, sticking up every which way and damn it, he looks so adorable she gives in to the desire to tangle her hands there.
“Go back to sleep, Killian,” she tells him, tugging just a little.
He leans forward to press his lips to her heart (and shit does it ache), before looking back up at her. “Come back to bed, Emma.”
“Brazuca Community is having a birthday, I used this photo brother for the tattoo saying blessed. May this day be very special and may our friendship lasts forever. May God bless yours and your family’s journey.#brazucasforever #brazucaB-day🎉🍾🎊🎁🎂 #goodcrazyinthahouse😎 #goodvibealways✌”