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#i can not tell you how excited i got when i saw ‘highlands’ like I fully expected it just to be based in general Scotland or like central
infernalodie · 2 years
Note
could you do a maddy x m reader x lexi. like maddy is in love with reader but. BUT reader is in a long run relationship with lexi? and the two of them are in love (reader & lexi). just angst all around 😈
also just a side note: make reader really tall 🧑‍🦯
Forewarning, I added a lot to this, but kept what you asked key throughout the story. Hope you don’t mind and like it!
𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || 𝐋𝐞𝐱𝐢 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐳
“𝘐 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵, 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥'𝘷𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥'𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 '𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘋𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘞𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥”
Inspo: Ruel - too many feelings Lauv - Paris In The Rain Moses Sumney - Doomed Jacob Banks - Peace of Mind
Pairing(s): Lexi Howard x Male!reader x Maddy Perez
Summary: Maddy could never find it in herself to tell how she felt to anyone she liked. When she saw you, she had been ready to risk it all to have you. But she had so much and lost it all. Forced to watch you love one of her best friends.
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(gifs used are not mine)
Warnings: angst and just straight up heartbreak
Words 3100
In East Highland, there was always the rare occasion that the school set up a trip to go snowboarding and skiing at the nearest public lodge and mountain near the suburban city. The rarity of such an event happening was so damn low, people forgot it even existed after a few years of not having it. Not like that was surprising as half the kids from East Highland had never experienced the blistering cold of winters like other across the world.
But the ski trip had been announced early in the year. Giving the school enough time to prepare and give more people more time to figure out if they wanted to go. There wasn’t much an influx at the start of the year, but as the months went on and got closer to winter, people started saying they were going. So, it was safe to say, a large group of kids would be attending this trip.
“Are you going on the ski trip?” Kat asked Maddy who turned to her with utter shock.
“Bitch, do I look like I am built for that shit?” She asked incredulously. “Summer is where I thrive. Me busting my ass going down a mountain isn’t helping anyone in the slightest.
“Well, Y/n is going to be going with Lexi,” Kat stated, sending Maddy a knowing look. “As well as Rue, Jules, Elliot, Bb, and me. You might as well come.”
“So, I’ll be left here alone with Cassie and Nate?”
“Um, yup.”
It may have been disturbing to say that the mere mention of you going was enough for her to do it. Endure all the bullshit of cold weather and likely falling on her ass and sliding all the way down the mountain. If it meant to spend more time with you, seeing your smile and hearing your beautiful voice, she would deal with it.
And she did give her money to office and carried on through the few days leading to the trip. Maddy didn’t admit it to any of her friends, but her excitement was growing with each day. Primarily because of the fact that when she was dating Nate, he never considered the idea of going. So, she never went. But she got to hear how much fun it was from her friends and other students. Especially you whenever the both of you hung out.
When the day came for you guys to be leaving to the Lodge, you were talking to Lexi and the rest of the girls, except Elliot who was late as per usual. “Okay, but I sit with Kat,” Bb announced, taking a rip off her vape before handing it over to you.
“Okay, then Elliot and me can sit together.” Jules shrugged.
“Yeah, if he shows up.” You snickered as Lexi elbowed your side subtly.
“Then I’m stealing your girlfriend, Y/n,” Rue smiled, reaching over and pulling Lexi into her arms. “You don’t deserve her either way.”
You raised your hands in surrender, laughing slightly. “That’s fine,” you reassured. “I can sit with some random kid. Better than my arm falling asleep halfway through the ride.”
Lexi gasped, attempting to kick your shin but Rue managed to pull her back as the others laughed in amusement. “We’ll get him,” Rue reassured. “It’ll be when he least expects it. Like, when he’s sleeping or something.”
The group fell into laughs, waiting patiently in the crowd of other kids. Some time in the process of waiting, Elliot had showed up panting. Leaning into your side as you wrapped an arm around his shoulder and patted his arm, allowing him to steal a cigarette off you and move to lean against your back as he smoked. Your tall stature being a wall that protected him from the wind.
And as the group talked, Elliot frowned at someone. “Is that Maddy?”
That earned everyone’s attention, wondering if the boy was still tired and seeing shit. But surprisingly enough, there was Maddy Perez. Looking tired as shit and not at all excited at the moment. For good reason as she hated winter and was slightly anxious to go on this school trip.
“It looks like you got your seating partner, Y/n,” Rue commented, sticking her tongue out at you as she held Lexi closer.
You turned to Maddy who stood beside you, looking up at your hulking height. “Well, it seems we sit together, miss Perez,” you teased as the girl rolled her eyes, happy that the blush on her cheeks hid the true feelings your words gave her.
“When do we leave?” Maddy mused, leaning into your side and closing her eyes. Letting out an exasperated sigh as Lexi checked her watch.
“We should be leaving in like a minute or two,” she shrugged. “Or at least getting loaded up onto the buses.”
And she was right. All the students began to file onto the buses at the orders of the teachers accompanying the students. Seats were filled with you against the window and Maddy seated beside you. Immediately pulling out her to fill in the space in time between waiting and then leaving. But she had to be honest, being around you made her nervous.
But when she least expected it, her phone was snatched from her hand. Turning to find you stuffing it into your jacket pocket with a smug grin on your lips. “Y/n, give me back my phone right now or we’re throwing hands.”
“I’d like to see you try, Perez,” you teased. “You should be asking me questions on what to expect. What are the best spots to snowboard down and all that stuff.”
“It sounds like you just want my attention,” Maddy bit back. “Or want to hear my beautiful voice grace your ears.”
You let out a laugh of amusement. “You are very perceptive, Maddy,” you humored. “You got me. Yes, I want to hear your voice.”
She felt fireworks erupt in her stomach as she nibbled on her bottom lip. Maddy hated how easily you had her wrapped around your finger. Since the moment you two met, you had her enraptured by you completely. And she was paying the price for it now.
For a majority of the ride, the both of you talked and you answered any questions for Maddy that she may have had. Soothing her worries and promising her that it would be fun and money well spent. She believed you. With those soft words of comfort, she couldn’t help but believe and trust you. She always has.
Then for the last quarter you stayed awake, listening to music while Maddy slept with her head resting on your shoulder. Resting your own head against her as you tried to get some shut eye for the last hour or so of the trip. But your attention had shifted to your phone chiming and causing you break out into a smile, glancing behind you to find Lexi smiling cheerfully at you.
Maddy could already sense that the both of you were being all lovey dovey and texting one another. Again, she felt some form of resentment towards Lexi for getting you. After all, you were the captain of the basketball team. She should’ve gotten you, not Lexi. But she couldn’t hold it against her friend. Maddy was happy for her, but she would always have a tinge of jealousy in her bones every time she saw the two of you in the hallways.
That was all she could think about until you guys arrived at the ski lodge she and the rest of the students would be staying for the night. There was already other busses outside kicking kids off to go have fun for the day. And the moment Maddy stepped off, she felt a weird sense of excitement rush through her.
Despite the cold winter wind that howled past her, she was able to see the mountain that people were skiing and snowboarding down. The chatter around her being tuned out with the sound of laughter and cheers coming from the kids speeding down the mountain. It left her wondering if this would be as good as you made it out to be.
Entering the lodge, she was greeted by not only the warmth, but the expansive lobby that had deer head hung up on the walls and antlers crossed over on other boards. It was whole different type of atmosphere that she wasn’t used to seeing. Especially having grown up in Highland. Nothing was ever this extravagant.
“Maddy, come on.” Kat grabbed her hand before she could fully take everything in. Following her to the front desk where you gathered all the cards and grinned as you turned to the small crowd of kids from your guys’ school.
“Alright, kids!” You announced, hopping up onto a nearby chair. “Since the teachers are busy getting their stuff off the busses and we would be getting specific rooms. So, for all the couples and best friends, go fucking crazy!”
You tossed the multiple key cards into the air with everyone spiraling into chaos. Maddy was about to keenly grab one, but she watched as you quickly hopped down from the chair and walked towards Lexi. Grabbing her suitcase and showcasing the key card you had kept in your pocket. She painfully watched the two of you kiss before quietly making your exit.
She could watch from a distance, picking apart each small action your provided to Lexi. An arm to wrap around her softly, a body for her to lean against, and a pair of lips to announce the love you had for her. Maddy wished she was Lexi at this point.
And in her self-sorrow, she walked with Kat to their room and got all settled in. But it wasn’t soon after that Rue and Jules had ended up banging against their door and yelling at them to get ready because everyone was heading out. And after getting her gear and the training procedures she had to endure, Maddy was finally able to get on Chairlift and slowly make her ascent to the peak of the mountain.
But she sat in the corner of that lift with her eyes fixated on you Lexi in the one ahead of her. Lips pursing together as she watched the beautiful sight of you two laughing and kissing. Had this been what you two did every time this ski trip came around? Was this even a good idea coming when all she would feel is this familiar ache in her heart?
“You should tell him,” Jules spoke up, seeming to be the only one able to notice the obvious feelings Maddy held for you. “It’s better to get it off your chest than stay silent and just watch him.”
Maddy bowed her head, shaking it slightly. “And get denied?” She asked, letting out a cold laugh. “I would rather sit here in my sorrows than face that.”
It felt almost criminal to Maddy that you owned half of her mind the way you did. Buying up land each and every second you could, and you didn’t even realize it. Every exit sign given was ignored. Each thought of hers that you miseled yourself into being greeted like beautiful melody. She wondered if there would be a time when she would be free of you. Able to go through her days without needing the sight of your eyes or having to hear your voice. But then again, would that be what she wanted in the end?
Jules sighed, a thick grey cloud bellowing from her nose. “Well, you won’t know unless you tell him.”
Maddy didn’t respond because she, truthfully, didn’t know how to respond. All she could do was continue to scare and wish upon stars. Even when she was getting prepared to go down the mountain, all she thought about was you. It sucked, considering she was more focused on what the instructor had trained her and not your beautiful smile and lovely eyes.
And when she finally started going down, it was at a far slower pace than everyone else who sped past her. Legs wobbly and fighting keep near together so she didn’t end up doing the splits and sliding down the rest of the mountain.
She’d only made it half way down when you suddenly appeared beside her, snowboard angled diagonally to stop yourself from proceeding down any further. “Maddy!” You called. “Having some trouble?”
Unable to contain the humorless laugh, Maddy shook her head. “That’s a nice way of putting it.”
With soft chuckle, you slid in front of her before jumping to turn around towards her. Holding out your hands that she instantly took, unable to hide the warm blush on her cheeks, hoping that the cold breeze would be convincing enough to hide the fact that you had some sort of effect on her.
“Ok, I just want you to know that I won’t be going down any further until you get this, all right?” You mused. “If anyone deserves this vacation, it’s you.”
That was something the both of you could agree on. But Maddy let your words of affection and care sink into her mind, intermingle with the dopamine slithering its way through her figure. Goosebumps standing to attention with a cold shiver running down her spine, causing her legs to slightly shake. Just the cold weather. That was all it was, just cold weather.
And you did stick true to your promise, teaching her and accompanying her down the mountain with her hands in yours. Although there was gloves dividing your skins, she could already imagine what your touch may feel like on hers, how it could send tidal waves of euphoria through her. You made her laugh and forget the distress she had been in minutes before, and as if she had been possessed, her inability to ski suddenly disappeared with her riding beside you down the mountain. Feeling her heart clench at the praise she received from you in return, flipping her stomach upside with butterflies ruthlessly tugging at the strings of her heart.
But when she made it to the bottom, where kids were already loading up to go again, she wanted to speak and talk to you longer. Knowing that after this, conversation would likely become void with your eyes and ear being given to Lexi. All she wanted was a little more time with you, something to hold her over before tomorrow when you two could likely share a seat together.
But, as if someone summoned you from the pearly gates in the puffy clouds, you were gone and meeting Lexi at the chairlift. Sharing a momentary kiss before hopping on and heading back up to the peak of the mountain. If Maddy was being honest, she didn’t know how long she stood there for, as she heard yells from people telling her to get out of the way. It took her a while, but she did eventually move and start making her way back to the lodge, returning her gear and locking herself in her bedroom.
When was she allowed to feel fulfilled with her life? When could she be allowed to be happy and have you or someone like you? The guy that gave her 10 minutes of his time to help teach her how to ski. A guy who was willing to help stoke the flames of consternation that built in her stomach from her waking moment that morning.
She didn’t deserve this type of misery of one-sided love. It’d always been her not showing interest, not the other way around, and now seeing and feeling this pain, she felt bad for every guy that had been nothing but lovely towards her. She wouldn’t wish this pain on her worst enemy, and that said something considering her worst enemy was Nate Jacobs, who she wouldn’t mind drowning in a pool of acid.
Eventually, her mood matched the sky void of any stars. The moon barely able to peak out from the clouds as she sat inside a hot tub, fiddling with her nails in an attempt to provide a substitute from you.
“Hey.” Your voice was like a stab to the heart Maddy couldn’t protect herself from. Glancing up at you, she held your eyes, trying to fall too deep into that smile of yours before she looked back down at her nails.
You frowned, chuckling slightly. “So, we’re playing the cold shoulder game?” Still there was no answer to be given to you.
It felt like an hour before you had moved up the steps to the edge of the hot tub where you seated yourself. Legs half way into the water with Maddy sitting opposite of you. Had this been any other time, she may have been a bit more keen on you joining her. Hell, she would’ve been fine if Lexi came with you. But now she wanted nothing more than to be freed by you. Allowed to live her life with these feelings she held for you to be gone.
“I like you, Y/n.” Maddy looked up at you, not having even noticed the tears that feel from her eyes. “I fuckin’ love you. I’ve loved you since I met you and I don’t think that will ever change.”
The information didn’t seem to break the façade you had built for yourself. Only shifting slightly with your eyes watching her closely as she bit back a sob. One thing you hated more than disappointing Lexi, was this. Seeing Maddy on the brink of a deep and dark spiral. You’d seen it too many times to count on both your hands and it broke your heart.
“So please-” she cried. “Please, tell me you love me or if you don’t, ‘cause I don’t think I can deal with this any feeling anymore.”
Again, the most painful sound for a human to experience appeared. Silence. When nature begins to scream for mercy, when heartbreak is at it’s most vulnerable and naked level. And Maddy’s heart was screaming, fighting with thin strings to keep together and heal the small cracks that had begun to scar it’s surface. Your silence, your silent answer, the silent truth finally snapped those strings. Finally splitting her heart in half with no hope of repair.
So, as she hastily got out of the hot tub, water falling from her body as tears followed close in tow. Leaving you, a conflicted boy, unable to comprehend the fact that the girl that you cared deeply about, was broken over you.
357 notes · View notes
calumrose · 3 years
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thank you for your lovely words on my latest fic! it means a lot 💓💓 i spent hours staring at pictures of scotland for references and i’m jealous of the fact you experience it everyday on the daily 😩
Ahh of course, it was so gorgeous and I loved it so it deserved to be praised! Honestly when I was reading it and you mentioned the Highlands I got so excited because I’ve never seen a fic mention the Highlands of Scotland ever! I could visualise the area so vividly, and tbh I kind of matched it up to a viewpoint not too far from where I live and it just made it, personally for me, come so much more alive 🥺 I could be biased in saying this but the Highlands are absolutely gorgeous, especially if you know where to go! But thank you for sharing such a beautiful fic that also made me feel a little bit like 🥰 because it was based in the place I call ‘home’ 🥺🥰
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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 3 years
Text
The Last Chthonian
Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader
Part 1
Author’s Note: Had this idea living in my head rent free so hopefully I don’t butcher it.
Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.
Warnings: language
Part 1 , Part 2
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“So, where are we going again?” Bucky asked Sam, confusion written on his face as he leaned back in the front passenger seat of the car.
“You’ll find out. We’ll be there soon.” Sam answered, his eyes glued to the road and hands gripping the wheel.
“But we’ve been driving in the middle of nowhere for an hour now.” Bucky fussed while staring at the never ending green grass that passed by, clearly irritated with Sam’s lack of details.
“I too would like to know where we are going.” Zemo spoke up only to add to Sam’s annoyance.
“YOU don’t get to ask questions.” Sam glared at Zemo through the rear view mirror before staring back at the road. He was starting to get fed up with their questions and lack of patience.
The three men had been driving with their windows down for what felt like hours through the Scottish countryside, watching the green highlands pass by. Though they admired the beauty of the landscape, they were extremely anxious to stretch their legs and get to their unknown destination. Not to mention, they were starting to get a little hungry as well.
“Are we there yet?” Bucky broke the silence after some time.
“We get there when we get there.” Sam snapped, his knuckles turning white from gripping the wheel a bit too hard. He was really looking forward to getting out of the car and away from those two.
After a short while they neared a small seaside village. The place was not that busy, save for the few locals and fishermen going about the cloudy day.
Sam drove on a little further before finally reaching a quaint stone cottage that sat on a hill at the edge of town, overlooking the ocean. He pulled up next to the 60s convertible cream colored Volkswagen Beetle that had a surfboard tied on the roof, parked next to the cottage. Sam took the keys out of the ignition and stepped out, stretching his legs as the others followed suit.
Sam smiled to himself as he walked up the path leading to the front door and glanced upon the flower garden and the decorations out front. He knew for sure this was your place. The other two quietly followed behind while looking around the residence, from the neatly kept garden and the vines that crawled along the house, to the fishing equipment hung up on the side, down to the handmade birdhouses and the wind chimes and sun-catchers that clinked melodically against the ocean breeze, including the collection of garden gnomes. The place reminded the men something straight out of Jane Austen’s novels, not that they’d like to admit they knew such a thing.
Sam stopped at the front door before turning to the others with a pointed finger. “Now whatever you do, don’t stare.”
“Wait what?” Bucky scrunched his nose.
“Just don’t.”
Sam paused for a moment, thinking of how to explain this situation to you before tapping on the wooden door. No answer. Sam could feel Bucky glaring at the back of his head, ready to scold him about how this was a big waste of time. So he knocked again, this time calling out if any one was home.
Before Bucky could open his mouth there was rustling coming from inside and the sound of someone knocking into furniture before a faint “ow” and “fuck” of a woman’s voice made Bucky and Zemo glance questioningly at each other. Where the hell did Sam lead them to?
The locks on the door were fumbled with before opening up to reveal your head poking out from behind.
“Sam?” You breathed out. You were slightly out of breath and your hair was disheveled with strands falling out of your bun at the front from under your silk scarf. The sleeves of your button up blouse were rolled up at your elbows, revealing your dirt covered arms. You were working on your vegetable garden in the back before you were interrupted by your unexpected visitors.
Bucky stood behind Sam and couldn’t help but widen his eyes when he saw you. He only met you a few times during the threat of Thanos and before, but the interactions he had with you were very brief. All he knew was that you were a good friend of the Avengers, especially Thor, Clint, Nat, Wanda, Tony and Steve and now apparently Sam. But after Thanos was defeated you disappeared and nothing was heard of you since.
Zemo glanced out from behind Bucky and tried to remain hidden behind the super soldier once he recognized your face. You weren’t exactly an Avenger and you weren’t on Earth when he tore the Avengers apart, you were helping Thor at the time and little to everyone’s knowledge, you were also defending your planet against an inside threat. But you had heard of him through your friends, and though you hadn’t met him, Zemo knew you would strangle him once you spotted him.
“Hey y/n.” Sam smiled at you, calling you by your alias name. He knew who you were through Steve, but even then, he didn’t know everything about you and about the recent events that took place in your home planet that still devastated you.
“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked with a mixture of surprise and annoyance, wiping your hands on your apron. There was a reason you chose to live all the way out here, and though you gave Sam your new address, you didn’t expect him to bring company.
“I came to see how you were doing?”
“Bullshit.” You scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. “If you wanted to check up on me you wouldn’t have brought someone.”
Sam opened his mouth to speak but decided against it, refused to meet your stern eyes and looking down at the ground instead with his hands in his pockets. He often forgot how well you were able to read people, almost as if you were telepathic. Little to his knowing, you were in fact a telepath but decided against telling him. You’ve known people who became uncomfortable when finding that detail about you and noticed how they tried to avoid you, constantly guarding their thoughts when around. If only they knew you never bothered to do such a thing because you respected their privacy and because you’ve seen things in people’s heads you wished to forget. You’ve only ever used your telepathy when it was absolutely necessary. Straightening up, you finally took a better look at the other man behind him and instantly recognized him as Bucky.
“Barnes?”
“Hi y/n.” Bucky smiled shyly at you as he looked into your eyes. And that’s when he noticed for the first time that your eyes were different from when he last saw you. Your irises were now a shade of purples and blues with flecks of gold that spread out, a reflection of the stars and the universe. So that’s what Sam meant when he said to not stare. But could you have just been wearing contacts? Bucky’s stare was cut short as Sam noticed, glaring at him and clearing his throat before elbowing him in the stomach.
Suddenly, there came the sound of a little girls squeals coming from inside your home, startling the men except for Sam. And before they knew it, a small girl in overalls who looked to be of 6 years of age sprinted through your legs and out the door. “Uncle Sam!”
“Oof! Athena wait!” You gasped against the impact as you tried to reach for her.
“Hey hey little Athena!” Sam smiled as he picked the excited girl up into his arms before setting her on his hip. “How’s my favorite little warrior?”
“I’m helping Mommy with the garden! See!” She squealed in delight before showing off her dirty hands.
“I can see that.” Sam chuckled. “Looks like you’ve been working hard.”
“God, I’m so sorry Sam. She’s covered in dirt.” You tried to apologize with an embarrassed face.
“Hey no worries.” Sam smiled at you. “Some dirt is not gonna kill me.”
“Mommy who’s this?” Athena questioned as she looked at the man next to Sam.
You looked at Bucky and gave him a look that questioned what name he would prefer, to which he nodded and mouthed Bucky to you.
“That’s Bucky sweetie.”
“Hi Bucky! I’m Athena!” She stuck her tiny hand out to for him to shake, a big grin plastered on her face from meeting new people.
“It’s very nice to meet you Athena.” Bucky smiled as he gently shook her hand, making her giggle.
The scene made you smile to yourself as you pushed a strand of your hair behind your ears. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that Sam and Bucky decided to pay a visit.
“Mommy who’s the man in the back?”
The man in the back? You looked to Sam and James with a raised brow before craning your neck to see who the third guest could be, only to tense up and clutch the door frame, forcing yourself to not go over there right now and throw him off a cliff.
“What the hell is he doing here?” You glared daggers at Zemo as he watched you with caution, before you turned to Sam.
“I can explain.” Sam tightened his jaw as he saw your expression.
“Athena, sweetie.” You turned to your daughter with a gentle smile. “I want you to go up to your room and clean up okay?”
“Okay mommy.” Athena looked back at you with a worried look as Sam set her down.
You caressed her head as she walked in, watching her go up the stairs and waiting for the sound of her bedroom door to close and her shower to turn on before shutting the front door behind you.
“Are you out of your goddamn minds?” You glared at the two, trying to not yell, your fists balling up in anger. “What in the three hells is going on?”
“Look y/n. He might be of some use.” Sam tried to explain.
“So you broke him out of prison?!”
“Well technically he got himself out.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. He was starting to think that this wasn’t such a good idea and felt guilty for coming here.
“Oh? So what? He magically decides to join your little boy band? The Wakandans are after his ass in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Look I get it. Working with Zemo sounds like a terrible idea and you have every right to be upset. We just need a place to lay low for now. Just...hear us out.” Sam responded with a pleading look.
You stood there with a hand on your hip, squeezing your eyes shut while you pinched the bridge of your nose, not even caring that you still had dirt on your hands.
“Please y/n.” Bucky spoke up, making you look up at him. “Sam wouldn’t come here if he didn’t know what he was doing.”
You looked between the two, rubbing your chin in contemplation as you thought everything over. Bucky was right. Sam would never try to purposely put you in harm’s way.
“Fine.” You breathed out. “You can stay for the night. But you are going to tell me everything. Every last detail.”
“I promise.” Sam looked to you as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.
“Well come on then. Get in.” You nodded your head towards the door as you opened it, letting Bucky and Sam in before putting yourself in front of Zemo and blocking him with a threatening look while speaking in a cold tone. “I swear to the gods, if you so much as try anything, I will bury you alive in my backyard and use you as fertilizer to grow fungi.”
“Y/n what the fuck.” You heard Sam utter from inside.
Zemo gave you a bewildered look and decided to keep quiet as you stepped aside to let him in, watching him closely as he went in. You stuck your head outside again, looking around for any bystanders and making sure the men were preoccupied before muttering something in Ancient Greek, waving your hand around and moving your fingers in specific gestures as a clear glass like film covered the area around your home for protection. You did another once over before going back in and closing the front door, readying yourself for the conversation you would have with Sam and Bucky.
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please-buckme · 3 years
Text
A Broken Heart.
Lee Bodecker x fem!reader
Chapter 2
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Chapter warnings: 18+ mentions of death, mentions of sex, cursing, Lee being an ass, angst, meninist behaviors
Chapter summary: You move back home after three years to find your heart still in shambles.
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Chapter 1 // Chapter 3
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3 Years Later
After moving a whole county away, Highland Ohio to be exact, you stayed for quite some time. Your aunt was amazing and the sweetest woman you’d ever known, and living with her was a breeze. She’d even gotten you a job at the auto shop her recently deceased husband left to her, which you loved. Life was good, for a while. You never had a reason to come home until your momma got sick.
For the past year you watched as your momma slowly faded away until the last week of April when she finally passed in her sleep. You were devastated, of course, but not only because of her death. She didn’t have much to her name besides a couple thousand in the bank and the house you’d left so long ago, which she left all to you.
The house was old. White paneling a faint tint of brown, grey shutters that were almost all off their hinges and rust anywhere you looked. It was a fixer upper and there’s no way you could sell it in its current condition. So, you decided to move back to Knockemstiff, just for the time being.
In all honesty, you’d grown to hate that town. Nothing but bad memories and any good memories you’d had were tarnished completely. So, once the house was decent enough to sell, you were out of there and back to the life you’d created in Highland.
Your aunt and you drove together in her pick up truck back to the house after your momma passed. She helped you unload your stuff and take things to the necessary rooms.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I can make my famous pancakes. I know you love’em.” She grinned.
“As tempting as that sounds, I’m fine. Please, I insist you go now before it gets dark.” You pull your aunt into a hug, a tight hug.
“I’m gonna miss havin’ you around, kiddo.” She sighed, her breath fanning over your neck.
“It’s only for a few months. I’ll be back to annoying you in no time, oldie.”
“Hey, I’m not old.” She laughed and pointed her finger at you sternly but still in a lighthearted way.
“And I’m not a kid.”
She laughed a little more then sighed, “Well, I guess I’ll head out. Call me if you need anything and don’t forget to go down to Billy’s tomorrow. He’s excited to bring you in.”
You smiled, “How could I forget? I need some sort of income to fix this craphole up.”
You walked your aunt to her car and waved her goodbye as she drove way. Your eyes welled up but you made sure not to cry in front of her or she’d never leave.
Once you went back in, you immediately got to work. Starting in the kitchen, you didn’t have much but a few coffee cups. The house was still occupied with your momma’s things and you were already dreading having to go through it all.
Things started to come together room by room as you worked most of the day away. You cleaned and rearranged things to your liking now that it was your house. It felt almost empowering to do what you want. You’d never lived alone so, in a way, this was an adventure as well.
You took your old room instead of the master, since that’s where your momma passed. It gave you goosebumps just thinking about and you knew you’d never get any sleep if you stayed in there. Your room wasn’t big but it was good enough for now and much better than sleeping in your momma’s death bed, hard pass.
You’d taken a seat on the couch with some tea you’d brewed up earlier that morning. This was the first time you sat down since arriving, and of course there’s a knock at the door.
“Whatever you’re selling, I promise you, I ain’t interested.” You shout, too exhausted to even attempt getting up.
The knocking continued, “Oh, for fucks sake.” You groaned under your breath and stood on your aching feet to tell them to fuck off in person. You opened the door, “did you not hear me the first time. I said-“
“Hi, Y/n” Lee greeted as he removed his hat.
You scoffed, “Can I help you with somethin’, Sheriff?”
Lee stood there, fiddling with the bill of his hat. His belly had gotten a little bigger and his cheeks had gotten a little chubbier, but you couldn’t help the hitch in your throat when his wedding ring caught your eye. Just a basic silver band, nothing special. But it still left a hollow pit in your stomach.
“I-“ he cleared his suddenly dry throat. “I heard you was back in town. Thought I’d come see for ma self if the rumors were true.”
“Welp, here I am. You can go now.”
“Y/n, I-“
“No, Lee, please. I’ve had a long day and I honestly don’t feel like talking to you right now. No, I take that back. I don’t feel like talking to you at all.”
“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think, doll.” He grins.
“Goodbye, Sheriff.” You shut the door only to hear him holler at you from the other side.
“Still can’t say my name, huh, Doll? Boy, I really did a number on you, didn’t I?” Your heart sank at his words. It seemed your pain was a joke to him this whole time. You’d always pictured him crying alone like you were but clearly that was never the case. Y’all’s relationship didn’t seem one sided until you were the only one hurt by the fall out.
“Welcome home, Y/n.” He said before you heard his boots click against the porch as he left.
You took a deep breath as you backed away from the door. Tears rimmed your eyes and you scoffed aloud to yourself. After three years you still weren’t over him and you knew that. You didn’t know, however, that he’d still have such a hold on you. And by the way he reacted to how sensitive you were towards the situation still didn’t help the ever growing void that ran through your entire loveless body. The only man you ever loved looked at you as if you were a quick fuck and a punchline.
A tear burned against your cheek and you were quick to wipe it away. You swore to yourself that you’d never cry over that man again and you won’t, instead you decided it was time for a much needed bath.
The bath was scolding hot, just how you liked it, and you opened up a bottle of wine as a sort of reward for the work you’d done today. Once the water got cold and the wine ran out, you brushed your hand and teeth and went to bed.
//
The sun beamed down against your skin as you walked to the local auto shop where your aunt had set you up with another job. You were always good with numbers and they desperately needed someone on the books. Your job would be to look at their spending over the last few months and figure out some sort of budget. You did that for your aunt at her shop, so this didn’t worry you at all.
“Hi, you must be Billy.” You greet the owner, “I’m
y/n, Peggy’s niece.”
“Oh, yes. I’m glad you finally made it down.” He beamed, shaking your hand, “How long will you be here for?”
“I’m not sure, actually. Just until I get my house fixed up enough to sell.” You say, retracting your hand from his sweaty one.
“Ah, well as luck would have it, our secretary just quit on us last week, so there’s a position you’ll adjust to right fine.”
You scoffed, “Wait a minute. Did you say secretary?”
“Yeah. You need to get your hearing checked, Honey?” He grinned. What is it with the men in this town?!
“No, I heard you just fine. My problem is that I was supposed to be your Budget Holder, not a damn secretary.” Your face was turning a touch of pink as you became increasingly annoyed.
“That’s a man's job, sweetie. We don’t you blown a fuse tryin’ ta add up all them numbers, now do we?”
“You can’t be serious.” You say flatly.
“Look, it’s the only position we got. Take it or leave it.”
Everything in you wanted to March out of that shop and never go back again. A secretary's position is nothing to frown upon, but to only be offered it because you’re a woman was despicable. Sadly, you needed this job and it would only be for a few months. So, when you told him you’d take the job you swallowed every ounce of respect you had for yourself. Knockemstiff was truly the worst town in America.
“Sounds great. We’ll see you tomorrow for training. There’s no dress code but there are a few things you’ll need to know before starting. I’ll fill you in once we start your training tomorrow.” He shook your hand again, completely ignoring the furious grimace on your face.
“Great. See you tomorrow.” You mumbled, walking away so you didn’t ‘accidentally’ hit your new boss.
//
Before heading home you decided to stop and grab some things for the house. Being sick, your momma didn’t eat much besides soup, and there was an over abundance of vanilla flavored Ovaltine cans littering the kitchen counters, which you hated.
The second the doors opened, all eyes were on you. You even heard a faint gasp coming from the woman at the register. A smirk crept upon your face. These people's lives were so boring that they still aren’t over your breakup that happened so long ago. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a cart and headed down the produce aisle.
Once you grabbed the vegetables you’d need for a stew, you headed towards the baking aisle. You need the ingredients for an upside down pineapple cake your momma used to make for you as a kid. Your aunt was coming into town on Saturday to lend a hand and celebrate her birthday. You told her to go have fun, but she insisted on spending her special day with you.
As you searched for the baking soda, you heard your name.
“Did you see Y/n’s back in town?” A lady with a high pitched voice whispered.
“I did. I just saw her. Poor thing. She’s probably still caught up on the sheriff. Prolly wish it was her that was on his arm instead of Laura-Jean.”
You rolled your eyes.
“I know it. Wouldn’t you, though? He’s so handsome.” The lady with the high patched voice giggled.
“Oh, hush! Don’t say things like that.” The other lady joined the high pitched one in whispered giggles. “Oh my goodness, here he comes.” She cleared her throat, “Afternoon, Sheriff.”
“Evenin’,Ladies. Y’all behavin’ yourselves?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.
They both giggled and in unison said, “Yes, Sheriff.”
“Oh give me a break.” You grimaced to yourself.
“Heard Y/n’s back in town.” The high pitched one spoke up. Your face burned. Why would they bring you up to him so bluntly like that? Everyone in this town was so unbelievably nosy.
“I- I heard. Actually just went to see her yesterday.” He said, clearing his throat.
“Uh-oh, the misses didn’t like that, I’m sure.” They giggled.
“Oh, no. She didn’t mind. I was just droppin’ by to give her my condolences about her momma dyin’. Then, she slammed the door in my face. I guess she’s still pretty upset with me.” He was pouting, trying to get some sort of sympathy. If you rolled your eyes any harder you thought they’d pop out of your head.
“Oh, you poor thing. Is there anything we can-“
Suddenly the baking soda slipped from your hand and scattered all other the floor in a puff of dust. “Shit, shit, shit.” You whispered to yourself.
“What was that?” One of the ladies asked.
“Excuse me, ladies.” Lee said. You could hear his boots clacking against the floor on there way over to you.
Shit.
You desperately wanted to run away but leaving this mess for someone to clean up wasn’t right, not even with the predicament you found yourself in. “Well, well, well,” Lee mocked as he rounded the corner. “Only here for less than a day and you’re already causin’ trouble.”
“Stay out of this, Bodecker.” You huff, trying to scoop the baking soda back into the card box it spilled from.
“Was you eavesdroppin’, girl?” He asked, kicking the soul of your shoe.
You scoffed, “Oh, please. I could give two shits what you say about me, Bodecker.”
He leaned in close, hovering over your left side. You heard him chuckle which startled you. He was so close. You could feel the familiar heat radiating from his body and smell that familiar cologne. His lips came down close to your ear. He licked them and then whispered, “If ya weren’t eavesdroppin’, how’d ya know I was talkin’ bout you, hm?”
Your eyes shuttered closed as he spoke, feeling his hot breath against your cheek. His deep southern drawl always made you weak. It took you back to those times in the back of the cruiser. He whispered such dirty praises in your ear when you would ride his cock. Those dirty words that could make you cum in seconds.
“You still with me, doll?” You felt him tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.
You flitched and stood up, “I- don’t touch me and stop calling me doll, alright? I really don’t have time for your games today, sheriff, and I’m not even really sure what you’re playin’ at in the first place.”
He smirked, running a thumb across his lip, “Darlin, I think the only thing I ever played was you..”
“I-“ your breath hitched in the back of your throat, “I have to go.” You turned to walk away, leaving the mess you’d made and your cart behind. Your eyes welled up with tears again. You didn’t know the man that stood in front of you. Lee was nothing but good to you when you dated and now he’s the most hateful man you’d ever met. The man you loved had disappeared and there’s nothing you could do to bring him back, no matter how bad you wanted to. A tear stained your cheek as you sped through the aisle. You could hear Lee hollering for you to stop but you wouldn’t this time.
All the heartbreak and sorrow that you’d left behind was creeping its way back in. The sooner you sold the house and got the hell out of there, the better.
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Dividers by: @firefly-in-darkness
Taglist: @haydens-moles , @c00lkidvibes , @tcc-gizmachine , @buckysm3talarm , @gogolucky13 , @cryptidcasanova , @heavenlyseb , @writersbuck , @teddy-bearbaby , @bbmommy0902 , @sweetllamaparadise , @thereblogcrusader , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @frostbytebaby , @jessyballet , @emotionallyandphysicallydone , @sarge-barnes-sir , @generalbagelcookieslime , @lady-loki-ren , @dime-piece-xo , @greeneyedblondie44
(Dm me to be added to taglist)
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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years
Text
Want nobody else
Request: Hi can I request a Draco Malfoy x Gryffindor reader where they’re dating in secret & Draco decided to spend the holiday at Hogwarts instead of going back to the manor because he wants to spend more time with the reader but surprise surprise Narcissa decided to drop in to his dorm just to find them cuddling in front of the fireplace or something. She’s scared of course but Narcissa turns out to be very kind & welcoming and the three of them spend the day together and even invited her to come to the Malfoy Manor anytime she’d like Thank you! - @queenofmankind
A/N: I loved this request bc I am a sucker for secret relationships, like that is my shit. I’ll not lie, these last couple of days I have been really doubting my writing ability, but nevertheless, I hope I have done your request justice. It’s really fluffy bc I love fluffy Draco so much omg. Enjoy! (Title is from Liam Payne - Midnight)
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (Gryffindor)
Warnings: one swear word
Word count: 2.1k
Being pulled into a supply cupboard was not how you wanted to start your morning, but it happened, nonetheless.
You’re about to start shouting when a familiar voice whispers, “Lumos.”
The tip of his wand starts to glow with a pale light, and you’re greeted to the sight of your boyfriend smiling down at you.
“Draco! You can’t just go about pulling me into supply cupboards.”
“Why not?” He asks, crowding you against the wall. He’s so close to you that his breath fans over your face.
“What if we get caught? What if someone sees us?”
Draco shrugs, leaning in to kiss you but his lips land on your cheek when you move your head at the last minute.
“We both agreed we would keep this a secret. That means you can’t pull me into supply cupboards between classes.”
“I know, but would you believe me if I say I did it because I missed you?”
“I would, but only because I missed you too.” You reply, fisting a hand in the front of his robes to pull him in for a kiss.
He hums into the kiss, pressing you even further into the wall. Your arms wrap around his neck; one hand making its way into his hair, pulling lightly drawing a groan from his mouth. He responds by biting your bottom lip.
“The bell is going ring any minute.” You whisper against his lips.
Draco nods in acknowledgement but kisses you again and continues to do so until the aforementioned bell rings.
You pull away from him with a peck to his lips. You smooth down your robes and hair to make it look as if you haven’t been making out with the Slytherin Prince between classes.
His hand grabs yours as he tugs you in to kiss you again, “I’ve got to go,” You say, pecking his lips one more time, silently loving how he chases your lips for another, “I’ve got Divination and those stairs are killer. I’ll see you later?”
“Definitely. I’ll meet you in the astronomy tower after dinner.”
You blow him a kiss which he catches with a laugh before rushing to Divination. Professor Trelawney had a thing for making latecomers make the first prediction of the lesson.
-----
The closer it got to the holidays, the slower the school day became. In every lesson, you zoned out, finding it hard to keep your attention on the topic of the class. Instead, daydreaming of a certain blonde-haired Slytherin.
Being in a relationship with Draco was the last thing you expected to happen to you. A member of Gryffindor and raised a muggle, you didn’t think for one moment that Draco would look in your direction.
A friendship blossomed between the two of you after being assigned a paired essay in History of Magic on Gellert Grindelwald’s threat to the International Statute of Secrecy. Draco was apprehensive at first; his walls securely built around him. However, as time went on and progress on the essay was good, those walls steadily came down and he started to have feelings for you. He just didn’t know you felt the same way.
You couldn’t help but feel sad as you finished writing the final sentence of the essay. Your time with Draco was up and things were to return to how they were before.
He didn’t want that; you didn’t want that.
Whilst waiting for the ink to dry, Draco took it upon himself to confess that he didn’t want this to end. His happiest time of the week were the hours he spent with you, but he would understand if you didn’t feel the same way. Draco never got a chance to finish his sentence – you had pulled him in for a clumsy but sweet kiss. It was after you had pulled away that you both agreed to keep the relationship secret for fear of the reaction from his parents and your house.
A ball of paper hitting the back of your head breaks you from your reverie. Turning to see who threw it, you smile as you see Draco staring intensely at his textbook.
Unscrewing the wad of paper you read his recognisable scrawl: ‘What are you thinking about?’
You don’t take the time to think of a reply, simply writing: ‘You, like always.’ It’s worth it when you see the blush on his face as he reads your reply.
---------
The astronomy tower had always been a favourite of Draco’s. Somewhere he could come, think and not be disturbed. If you ever had trouble finding him through the school, your first port of call would always be the astronomy tower. In the early weeks of your relationship, it became your go-to meet up spot.
Climbing the stairs to the top of the tower was always worth it when you saw him waiting for you; the breath stolen from your lungs when his eyes landed upon you and he smiled.
Tonight was no different; the butterflies in your stomach had turned into a full-blow riot, but you knew they would settle the moment your eyes landed on Draco.
He’s already waiting; leaning against the railing, looking out across the view. The astronomy tower held the perfect vista of Black Lake and the Scottish Highlands behind it. You sometimes questioned how you went to school in such a wonderful place.
Draco turns at the sound of your footsteps, a smile already making its way across his face. He holds a hand out to you and you are quick to fold your hand into his, tangling your fingers together as you do so. He brings your joined hands up to his lips, dropping a small kiss to the back of your hand before letting them fall between the two of you.
“I liked your note, by the way.”
You laugh, “I could tell. That was some blush.”
He grins at you, savouring the sound of your laughter, “I like the fact that you always think of me.”
You hum, “I like it too, but I’m going to have to pay some attention to my work, I think it’s getting jealous.”
Draco pulls you into his side; his arm now wrapping around your shoulder. He presses not one, but two kisses into your hair before saying, “I’m staying at Hogwarts over the holidays.”
“You are?” You ask, your eyes wide, excitement starting to build.
He nods, confirming, “My parents want to go travelling for those two weeks, so I said I’d stay at Hogwarts instead.”
“They didn’t question it?”
“My mother wanted me to go with them, but my father wasn’t bothered. Besides, it means I get to stay here with you which is exactly why I told them no.”
Your body warms with those words, as if they take root in your heart.
“You don’t mind, do you?”
“No!” You shout, wincing as you realise just how loud your voice is. Draco has a shit-eating grin across his face. “What I mean to say is, I don’t mind at all. I get to have you all to myself for two weeks.”
“Yes, you do.” Draco murmurs before pulling you in for a kiss; effectively ending all forms of conversation for now.
------
The first week of the holidays, it is decided quickly that you were to stay in Draco’s room since his dorm mates had all gone home for the holiday.
Waking up to Draco is a whole new experience, and you can’t help but love every minute of it. His blonde haired messed up, his voice gravelly with sleep. Your mind flashes to ten, fifteen years from now – hearing that voice whispering sweet nothings to you in the morning.
You shift in his bed, moving the covers from your body when Draco’s arm clamps itself around your waist, pinning you to the bed.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“Oh?”
“Nope, you’re staying in bed with me all day.” He says, rolling on top of you, bracing himself with his elbows. He runs his nose along the expanse of your neck before placing light, butterfly kisses across your jaw – teasing you, driving you to the brink of insanity.
Your legs wrap themselves around him, a hand tugging at his t-shirt as he finally presses his lips to yours.
You don’t leave the bed that day.
------
After that morning, Draco has a hard time keeping his hands off you. Pulling you into empty classrooms or rarely visited stacks in the library. You’ve had to apologise to Madame Pince more times that you’d like to admit – but seeing this side of Draco, unafraid of what people think of him, it’s addicting. You’ve cornered him in the Slytherin common room just as much.
-----
The second week of the holiday starts blissfully; you wake wrapped around Draco each morning and you can’t help but want this for the rest of your life. To be able to wake up to him for the rest of your life, you would count it as a life well lived.
Sitting on one of the many couches dotted about the Slytherin common room, you read a muggle book you brought from home. It tells the story of a huntress taken away by a faerie in payment for the death of the faerie’s sentries – the huntress soon starts to fall for her captor, and she promises to break the curse on his land. It keeps you enthralled as Draco reads the muggle classic Frankenstein after you introduced it to him some months ago.
The fire is roaring, Draco’s hand doodles aimless patterns on the top of your thigh from where your legs are thrown across his. You catch his hand every time it travels higher up your thigh; not missing the smirk on his face as you do so.
Neither of you think to look up from your respective books as the door to the common room opens. Neither of you think to look up until a delicate cough breaks your bubble.
“Mother,” Draco greets, standing up from the couch, pulling you up with him. His arm automatically going to your waist, as if it belonged there.
“Draco, who is this?” Narcissa asks, not taking her eyes off you.
Draco’s arm remains tight around your waist, “This is my girlfriend, (Y/N).”
Her next question is directed at you, “How long have you been seeing my son?”
“Almost six months now.” You answer, keeping your voice steady. This was not how you envisioned finally meeting his parents.
“Do you love him?”
“Yes, I think I do.” You answer honestly. Draco’s hand squeezing your waist tightly.
Narcissa smiles, her eyes now on Draco’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist. She smooths out an invisible crease in her dress before saying, “Then that’s all that matters.”
“You don’t care that I’m a Gryffindor?” You ask, the words flying out of your mouth before you can stop them.
“I care if Draco is happy and by the looks of it, he is. Your house doesn’t matter to me. Now I came here to see my son, and I’ve met his girlfriend as well. I say we take a walk into Hogsmeade and get some lunch – how does that sound?”
“Of course, mother.” Draco states, “I’ll grab our coats.” He kisses your cheek before rushing to his dormitory.
-------
Lunch with Narcissa went brilliantly, if you could say so yourself. She declined Draco’s offer of walking back to Hogwarts with the two of you; deciding to apparate from Hogsmeade instead. She kissed your cheek before she left and extended an invitation to visit Malfoy Manor whenever you wanted – she wanted to get to know the girl who her son had fallen in love with.
Walking back to Hogwarts, yours and Draco’s hands swing between you. If this was bliss, you didn’t want to know anything else. If this was being in love, then you didn’t want to be proved wrong. All you wanted was the boy walking next to you – for the rest of your life, if possible.
“(Y/N)?” Draco asks, coming to a stop in the middle of the path.
You hum, “Yes, Draco?”
“What would you say to us going public? Not hiding anymore?”
You open your mouth to answer, but Draco speaks over you. “I’m tired of having to pretend that I don’t want you, that I don’t love you. Because I do, I love you, a lot. I don’t think we have anything to be afraid of now, my mother knows, and everything will be okay.” He wraps his arms around you, “I don’t want to hide anymore.”
You throw your arms around his neck, tugging him down for a long, unhurried kiss. His hands tighten on you whilst yours find purchase in his hair. It’s a long time before you pull away from the other; completely unaware of how many people have hurried past you.
Your hand strokes his cheek as you whisper, “I love you too. Let’s not hide anymore.”
****
Draco taglist: @cheapglitter 
722 notes · View notes
ka-writes · 3 years
Text
——————
Notes: I had already started on the second chapter before I posted the first one, so don’t expect updates every day... I also had to do a lot of googling for this chapter.
——————
Chapter 1 in case you missed it:
——————
Inspired by:
Humans are Space Velociraptors
By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain
Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships
By: mmmajora
Home Again, Home Again
By: teeth_eater
All works can be found on Ao3
——————
Warnings: Cussing, needles, character conflicts, intentional poisoning, poisoning, Jaws reference
——————
“Humans are [and text here]”
Chapter 2: What is this, an interview?
Tommy was now restrained to a chair six feet away from the weird scientist alien. He had a dark brown lab coat with a fuzzy yellow sweater underneath, matched with black pants and black leather boots. His gold rimmed Harry Potter glasses slipped down his nose bridge a bit before he pushed it up and shuffled through papers. He wore a red beanie with a big whiff of his curly chocolate hair. His skin was a weird translucent grayish color with blue speckles decorating it. He had deep brown eyes with an odd electric blue circle outlining the pupil.
His tongue licked his finger as he turned the page. This was a habit that most of the weird teachers and counselors did. It always annoyed Tommy. This time fear was also mixed into that annoyance. His saliva was tinted blue and he had sharp teeth which immediately reminded him of a shark.
“You have shark teeth.” Tommy stated absentmindedly. Clearly, this caught the scientist alien off guard.
“I have what?” The alien asked, confused.
“Shark teeth.. ya know like the weird fish creatures that eat people.” Tommy started rambling causing the shark-alien to become even more confused and slightly alarmed. “I mean I think they eat people. That’s what the shark movie showed… what was its name, Jaws I think? I dunno, my foster mom freaked out in the middle of it and we went home. That lady was weird.. She made us wear itchy clothes and take weird photos before she sent me back to the group home.”
“What?..” The shark-alien asked. Tommy jumped a bit. He forgot he was rambling to a stranger. Alien stranger at that.
“Doesn’t matter.. What's the first question bitch-boy?” Tommy liked the way the alien jumped at the randomly timed insults.
“Er- right.. First off, what’s your name?” The shark-alien asked after collecting himself.
“Tommy Innit. Yours bitch-boy?” Tommy replied.
“Wilbur Soot. Stop calling me bitch-boy!” Wilbur huffed.
“Next question, bitch-boy!” Tommy emphasized the name, getting an even angrier expression in return. Wilbur’s weird blue circle flashed red for a second which caught Tommy off guard.
Wilbur took a shaky breath before asking the next question. “How old are you?”
“Old enough! I am a big man!” Tommy stated. Yet another thing that pissed him off.
“Age?” Wilbur asked, clearly irritated.
“18.” Wilbur raised a brow, “14.” Tommy huffed. His age should only be his business not some alien-bitch who didn’t even have his file.
“If you keep lying, I may have to get the truth serum from the back.” Wilbur half-heartedly threatened. Tommy, the big man that he is, did not get scared at that statement, only slightly unsettled which clearly showed on his face.
“Now, do you have a family?” Tommy tensed at the question. It was a touchy question and was not one that was asked often especially with his reputation.
“I am a big man. I don’t need a family to be great.” Tommy stated, happy with the answer. The alien-bitch shifted awkwardly.
“Right… What is your diet?”
“Umm.. I dunno, whatever I can find. I am allergic to nuts though..” Wilbur nodded in understanding and wrote things down in his notepad.
“What plants are poisonous to you?” Wilbur asked without looking up from his notes.
“Ermm, poison Ivy, poison oak… uh I think parts of rhubarb, and most wild berries. I am not sure other than that.” Wilbur nodded while adding bits to his notes.
“What was the place you lived like?” This time Wilbur glanced up to look at Tommy. This was again another touchy subject… How many times would this alien bitch get into the sad background?
“Shitty.” Tommy snapped. That was the only response the bitch was gonna get.
“Right.. Do you have music on Earth?”
Tommy scoffed, “Of course we have music, dumbass!”
“Can you tell me about the animals there?” Wilbur asked, almost hopeful.. which was weird. What was he hoping for?
“Erm I guess..” Tommy mumbled, trying to figure out where to start, “There’s a bunch of animals. Mainly on land. My favorite would be the cow.”
“What’s that?” Curiosity stained Wilbur’s face. This got Tommy excited; he was practically beaming as he started talking.
“Well they are these big ruminants that make milk and have horns. There are a bunch of types too like the highland cow, which obviously is the most poggers one. They are a Scottish breed with really long hair. I met one once, on a field trip his name was Henry.” Tommy rambled on for the next two and a half hours, jumping from topic to topic and explaining anything that wasn’t personal. He usually ended those paths with short insults.
——————
Wilbur hated to stop the kids' detailed story, but two and a half celestial hours had already passed, and Dream would be coming to check soon. Luckily, he had a couple new poisons that could pass off as a research development. He had even managed to send the distressed signal and no doubt Phil would already be there with the SBI craft ready to fly at any given moment.
“Alright Tommy.” His voice dropped to a serious tone causing the kid to stop his story of how he got poisoned by mushrooms on a camping trip. “You’re gonna have to trust me just for a bit. I am going to get you off the ship at the next stop but in the meantime I need you to tell me how allergic you’re to nuts.” The kid immediately tensed at the question.
“I am mainly allergic to tree nuts.. almonds being the worst. After a few minutes I can’t breathe properly and I usually pass out. The doctor said if I don’t get it treated within 15 minutes, death is most likely.” He took a moment to go through the information. The kid most likely has an anaphylaxis reaction to tree nuts. Meaning either he would have to know the exact time of landing and exactly where Phil was or he needed another poison that was less severe.
“Alright, here is what we’re gonna do. I have a chemical mixture that is similar to that of rattlesnake venom. I also have a chemical substance that numbs any pain you may feel. Side effects would include being very very tired and delirious over the next few days. Along with being knocked out for a good ten hours. To put it simply I am gonna fake poison you, in order to get you off the ship. It’s your choice if you’re willing to do it.” Wilbur paused to study the kid still restrained in front of him. It was odd how relaxed the kid seemed to be in a situation like this. He had no urge as far as Wilbur was aware, to fight against anything that happened. His complaints only being those that touched on personal matters. It was unsettling to say the least, and intrigued Wilbur. He really wanted to unravel the life the kid had lived before this and how he was actually dealing with the situation.
There was a long pause before the kid spoke, “I wouldn’t mind getting away from the weird smiley bitch.. plus you seem nice and to know what you’re doing so sure. Poison me bitch.” He said the last sentence with an enthusiasm Wilbur wasn’t expecting. He took a moment to rethink his plan, which was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Dream says you better have advanced in your stupid testing. Otherwise he’s gonna kick you off the ship at the next stop.” Stated the rather rude blazeling, Sapnap. The blazeling never liked Wilbur and made a point to argue against any advancements at meals. That led to Dream installing a new system of emails and Wilbur eating meals alone.
“Yea yea, it’s going!” He yelled through the metal door.
“Better be.” The blazeling snapped before making a non quiet track back to his quarters.
“Stupid blazeling.” Wilbur grumbled as he sorted through vials and picked up new needles and measured out the substances. “We are going to start with the anesthetic then move onto the poison.” He softly addressed Tommy.
Wilbur swiftly disinfected Tommy’s shoulder and gave the needle. He then gave the second needle. Immediately Tommy slumped over. Wilbur swiftly took off Tommy’s restraints and moved him on to the patient bed in the back corner of the room. After the transfer was done he clipped the body restraints around Tommy and waited for the alert signaling landing.
After about five minutes the light next to the door turned blue. He moved over to his seat and clipped on the safety belts. The light turned green and the ship shook momentarily before a thud could be felt. Quickly as Wilbur could, he emptied the needles into the waste bin and waited for his soon-to-be-ex-boss to arrive.
Dream stepped through the door and glanced around the room before heading to Wilbur for his report.
“Report.” The dreamon commanded.
“The subject's body would have gone through a painfully slow death and have multiple organ failures if I did not intervene. The chemical mixes used created a conflict in the patient’s body which resulted in the patient falling into exhaustion as they recovered.” He responded in a monotone tone. Dream looked over Tommy. He flinched back in disgust as Tommy grunted in his sleep.
“Is that all?” The dreamon questioned.
“No.” Wilbur swallowed down his panic, “This is the last testing I will be doing with this crew.” The dreamon scoffed.
“I am assuming you’re getting off at this planet?” Dream spit. Wilbur knew he absolutely hated when people left his crew as he saw it as a direct violation of his loyalty.
“Yes.” The phantom stated, keeping his even tone apparent. With that Dream stormed out cursing in Siestian. Somewhere in the mess of words he told Wilbur to get his things.
Without hesitation he grabbed his bag from his quarters, which was held in a small room that branches off the lab. He half sprinted down the short hallway and straight to the bed Tommy was on. He swiftly unrestrained the human and sat him up. He slipped on boots and gloves then tied a cloak around the kid. He pulled the hood up and carried him off of the closest exit. There were faint yells from Dream down the hallway and reassurances from the only two beings that put up with him. And with that Wilbur was off to find the only craft he had ever called home. The SBI ship.
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Chapter 2- End
Words~ 1774
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End Notes: ‘‘twas to lazy to reread... sorry for minor mistakes. Also suggestions are always appreciated!! Please reblog...
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Chapter 3:
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Wilbur:
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mymelodyheart · 3 years
Text
All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 9 ~The Christmas Spirits~
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Previously in Christmas Eve Rush
Her hand flew to her chest, and her eyes almost popped out at the realisation. "Good Lord. You're in love with her, aren't ye? It's all over your face. Oh my God!"
"Please? We dinnae have a lot of time," he whispered, almost close to tears. "Ye're the only one who can get through to Claire."
A few heartbeats passed as he held his breath. 
"Fine! Let's do this!" Suddenly spurred by excitement into action, she quickly grabbed a piece of paper and pen and handed it to him. "Write down your number, and I'll update you after I've called Claire."
"Ye will?"
"Yes, yes ..." she muttered. "Come on, chop-chop!" She clapped her hands at him.
Elated with the turn of event, he didn't waste any more time and rapidly scribbled his number and pushed the piece of paper back to her. "Thank ye. I owe ye big time." When an afterthought came to him, he shoved his hand into his pocket, took out a spare key to his cottage and placed it on the table. It was meant to be for Claire. "Another favour, I have a dog and kitten in the house and ..."
"I got it." She grinned and made a shooing motion. "Now go!"
If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.
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Claire sat at the airport's cafe, every sound of someone's laughter and the sight of happy couples holding hands, driving a knife into her chest. She still had a few hours to go before its time to go through security. With a heavy heart, she miserably flipped the pages of a glossy magazine, unseeing its pages' articles and pictures. It had taken every iota of her resolve and will power to leave Broch Mordha, and now Annalise had made her book a later flight because her friend was on the way and wanted to talk. Damn her for making this more difficult! In truth, she wanted to know what Jamie had told her friend and wondered what he would have said if she'd confronted him instead of running away. Now that she was finally out of his life was he even thinking about her? Staying in Broch Mordha would have most probably increased the likelihood of her believing his excuses and running back into his arms. She just couldn't handle the emotional fallout.
"I beg your pardon, is this seat taken?" a soft feminine voice asked.
Claire briefly glanced up, offered a weak smile and motioned for the woman to sit. She wasn't in the state nor mood for small talks so she put her head down and pretended to read, hoping the woman would take a hint.
Restless, she glanced again at her phone to check the time. Annalise should be here soon. Is she planning to fly with me? I hope not! She noticed the cafe was beginning to get busy with people waiting for love ones to arrive or the check-in counter to open. Tomorrow at this time, she'd be home. The thought of spending Christmas in London in the cramped apartment made her doubly miserable. She loved the open spaces of the Highlands and quaint villages. Although the weather could be quite grim, the landscape's natural beauty and loads of fresh air more than made up for it. With its tranquil settings, it was an ideal place to start her writing career. She'd put it on hold for far too long, working for a publishing company that gave her very little satisfaction and yesterday she'd even fantasised of moving to Broch Mordha and making it a reality to be closer to Jamie. How could I have been so stupid?
"Highlands in December is romantic, isn't it?" The woman sharing her table smiled pleasantly. "I love this place. There's something magical about it, don't you agree?"
Ah, another English woman to fall for the Highland charm! She was about to give some generic answer about the Highlands' ancient history lending the romance a hint of mysticism when the harsh truth chose that moment to free itself. "Kind of deceiving though, isn't it? I got caught up in that so-called magic, but some wanker decided to exploit it and use my heart to make fertiliser. I've only known him for a couple of days, but I can't stand being in this place anymore without thinking about him and his stupid, stupid handsome face. And the way he looked at me." She blew a breath and blinked back the tears. "I guess I was just plain naive and a bloody dimwit for thinking smooth talkers only existed in big cities like London. I tell you what, they're rife everywhere and you can never be too careful."
If the woman had been surprised by Claire's outburst, it didn't show. "Now, now, I'm quite sure there is a perfect explanation. Lovely and sweet as you look, I see the wisdom that belies your age in your eyes. You don't seem like a person to be taken by someone's smooth line at all."
She let out an almost deranged laugh. "Well, obviously, I am. I took one look at a beautiful face, and all logic went south. So there," Claire huffed.
The other woman looked away and sipped her tea. She was much older than Claire thought - in her forties maybe or could be fifties, but it was hard to tell. She had a dark, sleek modern bob hairstyle that contradicted the mumsy grey slacks, woollen jumper and lack of makeup and accessories. Her face was kind though, and there was a serenity in her demeanour she found comforting and familiar.
Claire regretted her oversharing and decided to shut her mouth and continued reading.
"I met my husband many years ago here. Not far from where we are now. A place called Broch Mordha."
Claire's head shot up. "Oh! Is your husband Scottish?"
"No, he's English. We met one summer while watching a Highland game. He lived in Broch Mordha while doing some research for work, and I was on holiday. We fell in love and eventually married. And every year from thereon we celebrated our anniversary here. It's a very special place for us."
"That's very sweet," Claire remarked, trying not to think of Jamie and what could have been for them if he hadn't been a knobhead.
The woman let out a soft laugh and daintily wiped her mouth with a napkin. "Sweet isn't the description I would have used to describe the circumstance of how we met; nevertheless, it turned out my darling husband is my soul mate and marrying him had been the best decision I've ever made in my life."
"Good for you ..." Claire whispered, subtly glancing once more at the time on her phone. She hoped Annalise would be here soon because the last thing she needed right now was to hear someone else's happily forever after. But in the end, curiosity got the better of her. "So what made you change your mind about him?"
The woman sighed and took out her book. "My husband was an insensitive clod, and when he eventually saw the error of his ways and asked for forgiveness, I gave him a second chance. Forgiving him didn't change the past, and I realised in the end, if I hadn't forgiven him, my actions would have robbed me of the best years of my life. And of course, a beautiful daughter who turned out to be everything I've ever hoped for and much more." She smiled and then turned her attention to reading. Obviously, oversharing was now over.
"I see ..." Claire muttered. Well, what had she expected? A magical solution? She almost laughed out loud. No such thing!
It was too late for her and Jamie anyway. She was on her way to London, and he'd probably moved on now that she was gone. It was definitely better this way. Out of sight, out of mind.
**********
He switched off the ignition of his car and texted Annalise to inform her he'd arrived at his destination. She'd messaged him earlier letting him know Claire would be at D'Lish cafe. Scanning his vicinity, Jamie drew in a lungful of air. He'd only been in Inverness Airport's parking lot a few minutes, and already his nerves were on tenterhooks. From the congested traffic and beeping cars to stressed people madly rushing about, Jamie realised how far from his world he'd strayed, and the distance was only under an hour's drive. 
He hadn't even stepped out of his car, and already he was counting the minutes till he was back within the peaceful haven of Broch Mordha. But he'd made up his mind. He wasn't going back without Claire and had taken his passport with him just in case he would have to follow her all the way to London. How he was going to manage that with his unpredictable episodes, he had no idea. He hoped he would be able to keep his panic attacks at bay long enough until he found her and convinced her to come back home.
"I'll walk in with you," Harry said quietly out of the blue as if he'd sense his trepidation. "My flight isn't till later, and my wife is probably enjoying her cuppa tea somewhere."
The tightness in his body relaxed, and Jamie nodded gratefully. Harry seemed to always understand his situation, popping out of the blue at the strangest times. Jamie had never questioned it and put it down to simply Harry being unusually perceptive and a good friend.
They quietly walked side by side towards the airport and when they entered the building, moving bodies and a sea of faces swarmed his vision. The racket and clamour of people going about their business surrounded him, and Christmas crowds trying to make it home before Christmas jostled too close, their cacophony of voices chattering excitedly. 
Jamie swallowed the mounting panic and fixed his thoughts on Claire, breathing deeply in through his nose and with a heaving chest, letting it all out with a whoosh. His eyes darted and saw people smiling and nodding animatedly, laughter and children's squeals infiltrating his consciousness, their sound accompanied by an air of anticipation that told him it was a season of joy. 
Jamie managed to put a grim smile on his face and concentrated on getting one foot in front of the other, apologising now and again whenever he accidentally bumped into someone, almost stumbling like an intoxicated man. Although aware of Harry's presence, perspiration coated his skin, and he could feel a bead of sweat running down his temple. The usually comfortable soft fabric of his sweatshirt chaffed and squeezed him like a clamp almost suffocating him. The chaotic din typical of an airport during the holiday season came in a huge rush of waves, at first faint, then building to a deafening sound that roared in his ears, shattering his foundation and foothold. 
Oh, God, please, not now. Jamie knew it was happening. Attempting not to panic, he began to employ a technique that more often than not worked. He tried listening to his mother's singing in his head, the one that stuck most in his mind and brought him comfort when he'd been amidst a conflict in a war zone, a song that sang him to sleep when he was a wee bairn.
He stopped a few metres away from the cafe where Claire was supposed to be waiting and took a moment to draw in oxygen, clinging to his mother's singing in his head. Goodnight, you moonlight ladies. Rockabye, sweet baby, James. Deep greens and blues are the colours I choose. Won't you let me go down in my dreams? And rockabye, sweet baby, James. 
He dimly recognised where he was, busy eateries, cafes and shops lined a wide area, a focal point for those waiting for love ones to arrive or passengers before heading to security that led to the departure area. Someone's child screamed nearby, and the sound of suitcases dragging on its wheels seemed to rumble and reverberate on the ground. Christmas light decorations that normally shimmered unobtrusively and gave a soft glow suddenly seemed to flash all around him, and the Christmas songs playing in the background became disembodied sounds. Jamie froze, gripped in the throes of a colossal panic attack that forced him to sink halfway to his knees.
Everything seemed to fade in and out, but it was Harry's voice he eventually clung to, his mother's singing hushing into the recesses of his head. The Englishman repeated his name and grabbed hold of his elbow, preventing him from collapsing to the floor and leading him firmly away from the moving crowd. Jamie pitched himself against the giant column and fought the crippling dread chipping away at his sanity. 
He glanced around frantically, but Harry's hand grabbed his face and forced him to look straight into amber eyes. 
"Breathe, Jamie. Everything is going to be alright. Just keep breathing." 
"H-Harry ...I n-need to ..."
"It's alright. I know. I'm not going anywhere. Just breath."
Jamie unzipped his jacket and fought for air, sucking in a lungful. And then, again and again, gasping and coughing as he doubled over, bracing his hands on his knees. Harry's strong hand massaged his back in a circular motion, the older man's presence calm and controlled, breathing with him, encouraging to gradually take in more air. 
It took a while to normalise his breathing, his heart to calm down and the cold sweat to evaporate. As he regained more control, though wobbly at first, he straightened up. Gathering his bearings, he ignored the odd looks from passersby, by now already used to it.
Harry gave him a reassuring smile. "Feeling much better?" 
Jamie managed a nod as the initial feeling of shame and embarrassment took over the panic attack. Why am I even here? Claire deserved so much better than this and all his fucking issues. On top of it all, he'd managed to make her feel cheap when he was nothing but just half a man. There was no way she'd go back to Broch Mordha with him.
"Oh no, you don't. I know that look in your eyes. You've made it this far, old sport," Harry whispered fiercely, straightening his jacket. "Don't you even think of going back home without trying!" 
Jamie blinked, confused. What the fuck? What does Harry know? But there was no time to ask questions, as he caught a glimpse of Claire past Harry's shoulder. She was in the cafe in the motion of getting up, her head bowed down while speaking on the phone. 
Last night, he'd held Claire in his arms and now, the reality of the moment hit him hard as he saw her hand gripped the suitcase next to her, reminding him she's waiting to board a plane. He could hardly think over the furious pounding in his chest as a combination of relief at seeing her and fear of rejection surged through him. He barely registered himself, moving towards the cafe when Harry put a hand on his arm. He turned to meet his friend's eyes. "You're on your own now. For now. Remember to breathe."
Jamie swallowed hard and nodded.
"Now go and hurry."
**********
Claire panicked, her eyes darting around the cafe. Annalise had just called and confessed Jamie was on his way to talk to her. Her friend had insisted on giving Jamie a chance to explain and that he'd made a mistake. 
But Claire couldn't do this. She didn't have this sort of experience nor the emotional strength to handle this kind of situation. All she knew and was aware of was how much Jamie had hurt her with his words. 
She quickly stood up, said goodbye to the woman sat on her table, grabbed her bags and made her way out of the cafe. She kept her head down and tried not to look around in case Jamie spotted her. She began to walk faster, weaving through crowds of travellers as she wheeled her suitcase, images of Jamie encroaching her thoughts. A new voice was trying to make itself heard, telling her maybe she ought to listen to what Jamie had to say. But what was there to say? She'd seen what he wrote with her own eyes, and there was no explaining himself out of it.
She was just getting into the queue for the security check when a shout cut through the hubbub surrounding her. 
"Sassenach!"
She stiffened, and her hand went slack around the suitcase's handle, sending its bulk toppling to the floor. It took a few heartbeats for her to turn around and face Jamie, afraid her resolve would collapse if she looked at him. When she finally saw him, he stood a few yards away, suspended in a sea of bustling chaos. Perspiration beaded his forehead, his face pale and eyes a little wild as they searched hers, snagging on the way she snatched her suitcase to an upright position and pulled it closer to her side. As always, ever since she first laid eyes on him, his unusual male beauty made her chest ache. A head taller than most, he looked out of place in the busy surroundings, his blue eyes penetrating through everything in their wake to reanimate her heart.
She waited for something to happen, but he just continued to stare at her, his body swaying a little. He looked like he was about to faint. Worry, combined with fear prickled her skin when she recalled his accounts of his PTSD condition. She'd made it this far, and now she was torn between going over to him and making her way to the security.
"What are you doing here?" she said a little harshly.
"Dinnae go in that plane.”
"It's too late for that."
Anguish fogged his handsome features. "I need ye to hear me out, Sassenach. Please."
Claire shook her head. "What is there to say, Jamie? That text you wrote, told me everything already."
"Please let me explain ..."
"I already know what you're going to say, Jamie. You're going to say you didn't mean to write that text. It's classic and cliche at the same time and utter bullshit." Claire's shoulders sagged, and she swallowed hard. "No, I'm sorry, I can't ..." 
She started to step into the queue, but stopped, her heart caught in her throat when a passerby in a rush accidentally bumped into him, and he almost vaulted over. She saw how much it took out of him just to remain upright. She made a move to come to his aide, but he stopped her with a motion of his hand, telling her he would say his piece without any help. Squeezing his eyes shut, he took several deep breaths, discomfort, and distress in this busy environment evident on his face. 
"You don't look well, Jamie. You should go home," she said, glancing around, aware of people looking at him.
"Damn it, Sassenach," he wheezed. "I'm gonnae make ye listen even if it kills me."
A stabbing pain went through her heart. "I can't do this, Jamie. I'm going."
"No!" He took another unsteady step forward. When Claire stayed put, relief washed over his face. "What I wrote to my sister about you was wrong ..."
Rage replaced the hurt she was feeling. "You made it sound I was just a notch on the bedpost," she snapped, angrily.
Jamie winced as a woman nearby gasped and glared at him, but they both ignored her. "No, Sassenach. You were never that ..."
"Your words winter fling said it all. What else could it mean?"
"Sometimes, what I think and what I feel doesn't translate into words ..."
"Or you don't think at all," she interrupted, tipping her head back to keep the tears from falling.
His head dropped. "No, I didnae think. What I said was inexcusable, and no explanation or apologies would take any of the hurt I caused ye back."
"It was a horrid thing to say about someone!"
His face flickered with regret and self-loathing. "It was, and I'm an arsehole for it."
"They why? Why Jamie? Is that how you talk about your conquests?"
His face paled even more. "No! You're not that at all. What we had was special, and I've never felt like this about someone before."
"You could have fooled me ..."
He took a careful step forward as if afraid she would bolt. "Sassenach, I said what I said not because that was what I thought about you and that's the truth. Partly, I text those words to get my sister off my case. She was badgering me for getting involved with ye because she was worried about me falling for someone from the city due to my condition. Another part of the reason I wrote that had to do with my fear of getting emotionally attached. I thought by labelling what we had as temporary, it would be easier to let ye go when the time comes. It was wrong ...so wrong. I wish I hadnae said it."
Claire could barely see him through the blur of tears. The awful pain she'd had in her heart all morning waned a little. She forced her feet to move, but the emotion in his voice kept her rooted in place. 
"Christ, everything happened so fast between us. And I was rushing ahead before I could comprehend what was happening. When ye told me ye live in London, I was convinced that nothing could come out of this ...us ...whatever this is we have ....because I wouldnae ken how to live in yer world and it wouldnae be right to ask ye to give up yers. When I asked ye to extend yer stay, my intention was to make as many memories with ye because I needed to face the truth of my limitations. I was determined not to be that someone who held ye back and made ye regret what ye could've done. I said to mysel' whatever time ye could give me, I'd be grateful. Yet, here I am, begging ye not to get on that plane."
She wanted to go to him, take him in her arms and forget what had happened, but she needed more. She needed to know that this thing between them was more than just a handy itinerary with chemistry tossed into the mix. For her, it had always been more, but he's a man, and maybe it's just all about sex for him.
"Sorry, Jamie." Bracing her shoulders, she pulled her suitcase behind her and joined the line for security check-up.
"Wait!"
She and every person within hearing distance in the queue turned around to look at him.
This time, Jamie didn't flinch and looked at her straight in the eyes with unwavering intensity. "I cannae let ye go without giving it my best shot. I've used my condition as an excuse for far too long, yet not once did ye ever look at me as someone damaged. I dinnae want my condition to stop me anymore from going after what I want. I swear to God, ye havenae seen persistence yet, Sassenach. Ye have nae idea what it looks like until ye've seen it on me. I've fought for my life in a war zone before, and I'm doing it again now. If ye get on that bloody plane, be rest assured I will be on the next flight behind yours. I will show up in every God damned place ye go to until ye give me the time of day. And I willnae stop until I get it through yer pretty head how much ye mean to me. And if ye come back to me, I promise ye, I'm gonnae work my arse off to prove to ye every day how special ye are. Even if it means moving to London to be closer to ye. All I'm asking for is a second chance."
Looking at him, she knew he meant every word, and there was an intensity about him, that told her he would go through with his threat of following her to London. A lump stuck in Claire's throat, so huge she could barely speak. Her face crumpled, and she let the unshed tears she'd held all morning flow. Unable to stand a moment longer without feeling his arms around her, she let go of her grip on her suitcase and began to make a move towards him. Jamie fell back a few steps, both hands flying to rest on top of his head, relief and disbelief visible in every line of his body. She covered the distance separating them in three steps and flung herself into strong arms that circled around her without hesitation. Applause, cheers and whistles from passengers who had witnessed the scene erupted around them, making them both laugh through tears. 
"Jesus Christ, Jamie," she stammered with a hiccup. "You really know how to cause a scene and really make it count." 
A hand tunnelled through her hair, gripping her neck so he could angle her head and kiss her. "I'm so sorry, Sassenach. Oh, God, I'm so sorry," he muttered against her lips. "I was an idiot. I thought I wasnae gonnae make it." 
A shudder passed through her. "I almost got on a plane and spent Christmas on my own." 
Jamie fell back into the nearest seat, taking Claire with him. Obviously spent from all the emotions. "Dinnae remind me ...ever again, please. But just so ye know, I have my passport with me. I was ready to come after ye. Today." 
Claire clung to him tighter. "It's Christmas, and we're together. Let's just focus on that." 
"Christ, I thought I knew fear." His breath shook and fanned her skin. "That was the scariest situation I've been in." 
She let out a sigh, inhaling his scent from the crook of his neck. How had she thought for one second that running away would have been a better option? She thought of the woman she spoke to earlier in the cafe and smiled. 
Jamie shook her a little. "Ye're going to think this is mad, but I dinnae want to take another second for granted, so I'm just going to say it, so ye ken once and for all." 
"Say what?" she whispered. Jamie tilted her face up for a slow, deep kiss, then stood, lifting her in his arms. 
"I'm in love with ye, Sassenach. I ken it's too soon, but I want it out there just in case something happens and I dinnae get another chance to say it, or I do something stupid like making ye cry. Life's too short for over-analysing things and keeping something like that to myself." 
She smiled through fresh tears. "I'm in love with you too, Jamie. And next time you say something stupid, I'm just going to get into a fight with you about it, instead of running away."
Jamie's laughter rumbled in his chest before his face turned serious. "Merry Christmas, Sassenach. May it be our first of many more to come."
Claire reached out and clasped his face with her hands and laid a soft kiss on his lips. Her heart broke open, and for the first time, all the pieces clicked together in a perfect puzzle, and everything made perfect sense. Because she'd learned early on you needed to take the bad with the good and embrace it all. Despite Jamie's condition and fear of uncertainty, she'd taken a gamble and trusted her guts, and by giving him a second chance, they'd ended up with the best thing of all. 
Love at Christmas. 
She knew it wasn't going to be smooth sailing forever. There were going to be long talks of how they ought to proceed with their relationship, compromises to be made, and probably many teething problems during their phase of getting to know each other. But as long they both keep their hearts open, they should have a fighting chance.
"Merry Christmas to you too," she whispered, her voice raspy with emotion. 
"Shall we go home?" he murmured, smiling.
"Yes, let's go home."
Hand in hand they left the airport and headed back to Broch Mordha to celebrate Christmas.
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 Dear Readers,
Firstly, thank you for your best wishes and feedback from the previous chapter. This latest update was supposed to be published on Christmas day. Unfortunately, because I was so overly ambitious about the storyline, I was unable to deliver. I didn't want to rush it after having gone through the story in my head many times.  Rushing it probably would have made me miss many of the elements I wanted to put in this story.
Anyway, I had a lovely quiet Christmas. With everything that's happening globally, it was more of a time for reflection for us instead of celebration. I am just grateful that my love ones are safe and healthy and hope you're own dearests are as well. As for this story's direction, I don't know how many chapters there are to go, but I can safely say there is another one after this. I will try to publish before New Year, and if I am unable to do so, I wish you all a New Year full of exciting possibilities, good health and lots of love. Keep the good vibes rolling and take care. X
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crimsonfluidessence · 3 years
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Prompt 9: Friable
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7:45 in the morning.
Each and every day, Esredes' alarm went off. He was not one with long startup lag- within a minute, he was always up and shutting his alarm off, dragging himself to the bathroom.
Brush your teeth, comb your hair back into those peculiar spikes, splash some water on your face- yes, perfect. And next came the closet, where Esredes mostly changed into the same repetition of outfits each day- all this time, and still he had not bothered to add much new.
Too much attention.
All this took ten minutes at most, and then he was downstairs. A quick breakfast came and went with a dose of orange juice, and he was putting on Heilyn's coat made for him like he did every morning, followed by the trusty messenger bag and sword. Long past were moments like the sheer embarrassment of shutting down on his floor or at his desk entirely- there was no time for suck weakness anymore.
The brisk and cold air of Foundation greeted Esredes as always, and he set out on the usual route to the Pillars. It was nice and quiet on his street, then it soon passed into the main streets of Foundation. Here and there on the way to work, there were sometimes eyes, stares in his direction, some which he noticed and some which he did not- but today he passed them by before his mind could begin to wander.
Ferrant's office space was always a safe escape from the outside world when he arrived- all of the man's office staff was friendly, Heilyn was the raggy-haired piece of shit he always was, and he could greet everyone and get to his office to write papers in peace. But today, Ferrant had a House of Lords person for him to go and talk to on his behalf, so Esredes didn't get to settle in to his office just yet, instead going back out the Pillars and right into another Lords' office.
"Good morning," Esredes said in his usual polite political work voice as he pushed his way into the office. Every time he went to another Lords' office, it hit him just how humble Ferrant was- and how not humble his former noble self was.
The older Elezen man looked up from his desk at Esredes with a calm indifference. "Good morning," he repeated back. "You're Durand's messenger, correct?"
"Correct," Esredes said, coming in and taking a seat, smoothing out the papers in his hands on the desk. "Lord Ferrant sends his regards he is too busy to see you in person as of now, but expect a letter within the next couple weeks for a request for a lunch appointment. Now, here is the papers he requested of you to look over," Esredes turned them around on the desk and slid them forward to the man, then set his hands clasped in his lap as he watched the man read it over with a careful, scrunched up look on his face.
It took him a long moment before he finally spoke. "...I see." He started with. "And tell me, is Lord Ferrant aware of the greater implications a proposal like this would have on the city?"
"It depends on what you mean by that," Esredes said. "But I like to believe he does know, yes. No proposal of his is without careful consideration, after all."
"The way I see it, it's exactly proposals like this which threaten the stability of the public." He put the papers down, shut his eyes, and let out a long sigh. "Is Lord Ferrant not aware how dangerous it is already for our knights most holy to deal with the remnants of Nidhogg's horde? The system in place is perfectly fine for dealing with the heretics who defected to that monster."
"It's not exactly about that," Esredes said. "It's about those who were kidnapped and forced into his ranks, you see, when he writes prisoner of-"
"The Temple Knights are already at risk of being mauled and turned by the knights who get to them." The Lord said. "You cannot ask them to change their procedures without putting countless lives at risk." He smiled at Esredes. "Send Lord Ferrant my regards, but I am not interested in more of this proposal of his. Now, what else does he have to speak of?"
Esredes forced a smile back. "Very well," he said as he took the papers back into his hands. "Then I believe we can cut right to the next proposal on the House floor..."
When he exited that building and went back out into the streets, Esredes let out a sigh and looked over the papers in his hands. Heilyn and himself had been working on that one for so many weeks now, and this was the fifth test subject it had failed without any room for further conversation. How many more rewrites did they need to make this worth any consideration?
Lunch hour was already approaching, and so Esredes decided to make his way down towards the Crozier. He was near enough that he could pick something up and bring it back to the office, and then he'd have just enough time to report the results and get his work in order before his hour break for a client coming in. It was already getting crowded, however, so Esredes opted to pick a stall with a decent line just to save time instead of his usual go tos. The merchant was selling little meat pies that overwhelmed Esredes' nostrils even from this distance back, and it was rare Esredes wasn't in the mood for them. "Hi," he said with a smile when it was his turn in line, taking the gil out from his pouch. "Two, please." He set it on the counter and slid it over.
The Hyur man gave him a peculiar stare as he did so, and Esredes had to keep his smile from faltering. "Sorry, I think it's best you look elsewhere. Stock's limited, and my usual customers show up around now."
Esredes blinked a couple times, staring back at the man before glancing down at his gil and slowly taking it back in his hand. How the hell did this random merchant even know? "Very well, my apologies for the inconvenience." Esredes replied, and off he did as he did best and disappeared into the crowd.
He ended up with a smoked Dodo sandwich instead, carrying it in a box in his hand as he made his way out of the Crozier and back towards the office. Yet as he passed by one tall and light individual on the street, he did a double take and stopped, looking back with a faint smile of recognition. "Good afternoon, Squire of the Axe." He called to the young man, recognizing one of the individuals from the Fourth Temple Knight Company he sort of tolerated, sort of didn't. While others had revealed his real name to him, he still felt the man would scorn him if he tried using it yet. "Hope you're having a decent one. Take care."
Gerivien turned around and stared at Esredes with a look Esredes recognized well out of the man by now- that of burning, unfiltered hatred. It couldn't decide consistently if it wanted to be there or soften on any given interaction, and his mouth twitched downwards.
"Mind yer fuckin' business." Gerivien said, and turned on and kept right on walking with that.
"Until another time!" Esredes called his way with a smirk before moving on. Ah, Gerivien was a hot and cold one- some days he got that, other days the man revealed his soft side he denied existing and something more interesting happened- but today he didn't have time for an interesting moment, so take his opportunity to annoy the Squire it was.
Esredes had lunch alone in his office to make up for the extended length of time that Lord had spent talking about his thoughts on the latest House proposal, munching away on the dodo sandwich while finishing up a paper. Then as 12:55 approached, he stood up and moved to the kitchen, pouring a glass of water and then navigating to the Blue Room instead, setting it down on the side table and opening a drawer to take out his binder and fake pair of glasses, slipping the glasses on and settling into his chair. The 1:00 slot was a vague name of 'Red' simply written down on the sheet, and Esredes wasn't sure who this person was at all, but a new client was always kind of exciting nonetheless. He settled in, put a bright smile on his face for the client's entry- and in came a face he did not in fact, not recognize.
Ivarault Vairemont.
He had never spoken to the man personally, but he knew him well, or so he thought- because the man had started a fight most times he saw him, including one with a dear friend of his, and he knew for a fact this man literally wanted to kill him. He was that sort of ex-Dragoon, the kind who wanted his eliminated and nothing more.
Esredes' bright smile dropped in an instant. His free hand went to his pocket, the one that kept the airborne, powder based sleeping agent in a little vial just in case. "What... what are you doing here."
Suddenly, Esredes realized just how much he took Pyralis' mediocre presence for granted.
Though the man had relatively behaved himself for a change, Esredes left that session feeling drained nonetheless. Back to work it was, until the hour of 5:00 hit.
There he was to switch out of his civilian mode and back into what lurked beneath the surface. He left work, went home, changed into his armor he wore into battles as a harrier, and slipped on his helmet as he departed for the Central Highlands. He had a meeting with an interested party about the ways of Iceheart's people, and he meant to represent his people well.
At least, that's what he planned to do. Instead, his tale of Iceheart's struggles, mixed with those of his own and that of the movement all together, was met with an angry response from the masked individual.
"And was it heroic when you allowed the wyverns into the city?" The lady said. "When you slaughtered those people merely delivering goods to their destination?"
Esredes could do nothing but blink. "No." He said. "It wasn't. I never tried to imply it was."
"There is nothing heroic about your people, as you so call them." The lady continued on, taking a step closer to him. "You are no better than the knights you keep bringing up. You spilled blood to summon a primal, and what did it accomplish? Nothing."
"It accomplished the end of the goddamn war!" Esredes retorted back, taking a step forward and curling up his fists. "If she hadn't stopped that Garlean ship, the Archbishop would have plunged the land into chaos. You and all of those pathetic Warriors owe her for your continued peaceful existence, but no, you can't even be bothered to acknowledge that much!"
The lady narrowed her eyes at him with a look of pure disgust. "You will never be anything but a monster," she said, and then she began to walk away.
Well, that was the second time this year one of these people pretending to hear the other side had turned sour when they heard exactly that. Lovely. Esredes let out a sigh and waited for her to be far enough away, then transformed and flew away.
He found himself at a bar later on in the night, 8:30. It had been a day, and he needed to grab a bottle or two before he went home. Content was he to mind his own business, but soon himself approached by a man, a specific type of man he knew the second he put his eyes on. They always had some kind of shit eating grin on their face and were only there to take an unwanted and creepy interest in you.
"What are you so down about?" The man asked about three lines into the conversation.
"I'm Ishgardian."
The man chuckled to that. "That you might, but it's no reason to have such a stick up your arse, yes? Why don't you loosen up a little and maybe you wouldn't seem so down?"
Esredes wanted to sigh all the way down into Witchdrop and then some. "I think I know what I'm doing, thank you. Please feel free to bother someone more interesting."
"Whatever you say, asshole." The man remarked, and as he turned to leave he pushed Esredes right in the abdomen with one hand, causing him to stumble back against the table and spill part of his drink onto his face. A few people in the bar laughed at the sight.
Without a word, Esredes turned and left the bar in a hurry.
When he collapsed into bed that night at 1:34 AM, he felt like he weighed a thousand pounds, yet he stretched his arms out on the bed and shut his eyes, releasing a long breath.
You did it, he told himself. You made it through the day. Another one down, gods know many left.
A lot of emotions swirled up within him, but what went up must come down. Esredes shoved them all back down to the bottom, and stared at the ceiling in complete apathy until he fell asleep.
He was stronger than the world. Other people could break and fracture, but he would remain here, just as he was.
There was no time today for being delicate and picking himself up. Tomorrow, maybe, but for now he was off to dreamland.
-- @heartofthefury / @thecalmnessandthestorms Ferrant/Heilyn
Lori for Gerivien Arius for Ivarault @1emon-vii for Pyralis
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lol okay so I dashed off most of this the day of and then kept not posting it because I kept thinking I needed to add stuff, but then I ended up adding more stuff mostly in reblogs instead (should all be under the “my meta” tag if anyone’s curious) and now episode 2 is technically coming out tomorrow night in my time zone so obviously I need to just post this. bullet points of disconnected thoughts, some of which are probably at least slightly outdated by now but whatever, here you go
seems very possible Mobius left the tape with him on purpose because he figured Loki wouldn’t be able to resist looking at it
would have to check the timing but I’m pretty sure he started looking terrified as soon as Thanos came onscreen without really knowing the context (aside from the very basic outline of “it’s been several years and he reconciled with Thor”), which at least underscores that they weren’t buddies--Loki knew something awful was about to happen the second Thanos showed up sadly this is not true, the clip he sees first is him trying to stab Thanos, so...yeah it stands to reason that he’d know it was about to end badly no matter what
other people have mentioned this but I love that we got to see Loki just like...existing?? like I know he’s never been the protagonist before and seeing him as the protagonist has always been one of the things that’s excited me most about the show, but now that it’s here I’m just kind of struck by how HE’S THE PROTAGONIST so we’re getting all these emotions and little gestures and moments when he’s alone that we only got in tiny, sadly easy-to-overlook snatches before (and it also occurred to me that I don’t think we’ve ever seen Loki eat anything, which is something else that might change)
also his projection is fascinating, and so is the fact that he explicitly turned it around on himself, which seems relevant to all the theories about a lot of his other statements (”freedom is life’s great lie,” most of what he said to Natasha, etc.) being things that were drummed into him on Sanctuary rather than stuff he just came up with on his own, so that seems to cover a lot of the stuff he says in Avengers and here
on the other hand it seems unlikely we’re ever going to get confirmation that Bad Stuff happened to him on Sanctuary aside from what we already saw in Avengers, which is frustrating, although to be fair I also wasn’t expecting to see Loki crying about his family in the first episode (and the most I’m really hoping for, still, is that nothing will explicitly contradict the idea, so...we’re good on that thus far, I guess)
so the first half of the episode was...ehhh, I don’t know, but the second half was amazing. I know some people didn’t like that part either, but I felt like...okay, I don’t love him being humiliated so I would’ve preferred different framing for some of this BUT a lot of casual viewers still see Loki as a cackling caricature without having picked up on any of the stuff that very clearly showed otherwise, and this show wants to treat Loki as a person, someone worthy of audience sympathy, so they kind of had to go in hard and fast on that aspect to get everyone up to speed. like, yes, fans who’ve been paying attention know that Loki’s a person, that he’s wounded, that he doesn’t hurt people just because it’s fun for him, that he feels things very deeply, that he loves his family, but somehow the mainstream perception of him has missed like 85% of that, and the show’s just not going to have much impact unless it gets everybody on board with those very basic ideas. in terms of story structure it probably doesn’t make sense for this to be his lowest point, but starting from the bottom and eventually getting somewhere better is fairly standard, so at this point I can imagine tons of ways things could improve for him
yeah I do hate the whole Sacred Timeline thing, see also my posts about how much I loved that Endgame canonically (I thought) established multiple timelines where everything was fine, so yeah I’m pissed about that because it means those timelines were canonically pruned
like I don’t...hate it as a storytelling device? I just hate it for fandom reasons, and I’ve hated it in other fandoms when canon did something that seemed to open things up to all this incredible possibility and then went “actually no, we’re boxing it up again into this one specific Way That Things Happened” and for fanwork purposes it doesn’t matter all that much, I don’t think it’s actually that much harder to do AUs or go “okay well in this universe the TVA doesn’t exist, whatever” (in fact I wouldn’t be surprised if AO3 quickly develops a new canonical “not TVA compliant” tag for basically all Loki fic), but it is annoying that it’s now like “canonically, every AU is Not Allowed”, and if that ends up sticking as the status quo with the TVA considered good guys or at least a necessary evil then yeah, I’m going to be annoyed
HOWEVER
I don’t think that’s inevitable for a variety of reasons
this whole show is going to deal with multiverse shenanigans and so will Dr. Strange 2, so it seems completely possible that the end result could be a status quo of “there’s a multiverse actually and that’s fine” (...although yes, I’ll be doubly annoyed if the end result of this show is a restored multiverse of some kind and the end result of Dr. Strange 2 is condensing it back down to a single timeline)
the multiverse is a long-running comics tradition, which still seems to be the case even after...whatever event it was that collided a bunch of them and tried for a Highlander thing, look I wasn’t really following it and I know some characters ended up in other universes from where they started but I’m pretty sure we still have a multiverse of some kind
almost all the recent Loki-centric comics have focused on questions of fate and agency
Agent of Asgard in particular was about Loki eventually going “fuck you I won’t do what you tell me” and forging a new path (and, okay, it does seem like runs other than AoA have been the most influential here but again we’ve only seen one episode)
Loki, specifically, is an agent of chaos and change, like that’s his whole thing going way back to mythology, because sometimes stagnancy is death and chaos is healthy, and of course myth!Loki (and earlier versions of comics!Loki) is always responsible for triggering Ragnarok, which isn’t just the end of the world but is also a natural, crucial part of a cycle of renewal, and yes the MCU already did Ragnarok but that doesn’t at all mean they can’t play more with those ideas
Tom Hiddleston has brought up this specific point several times in recent interviews, that sometimes chaos is the one thing that's really needed
also, on Jimmy Kimmel the day of the episode, he kind of...planted a seed about the TVA maybe not being uncomplicated good guys because seriously what gives them the right to make these decisions for literally everyone
so at the very least I think it’s completely possible that things aren’t quite what they seem, and that for instance we’re supposed to discover that Mobius is consciously manipulating him to turn him into the type of tool the TVA wants him to be
also “the timeline wants to break free” shows up on a lot of merch, which does seem to indicate a free will vs. predestination theme
I’m not at all familiar with comics!TVA, although I understand they’re considered villains (although to be fair, so were the Skrulls, and at least thus far that’s been inverted for the MCU), but their whole thing reminded me of a few other entities in a way that could be relevant:
the tape running out was like the Norns cutting the thread of somebody’s life
Those Who Sit Above In Shadow in AoA (and also maybe whatever was below the God Quarry in Infinity Wars although I’m less familiar with that)
the gods in Cabin In The Woods, who were also kind of audience proxies in that they really just cared about the sacrifice being entertaining, which kinda seems like the only logical reason for the Timekeepers to prefer any given series of events over another
my personal hope for the series: the Timekeepers are ultimately the Big Bad and the rogue Loki variant is ultimately right in trying to wipe out the TVA (because sure I realize it’s maybe dumb of me but I still don’t want any Loki to be completely a bad guy!!); the major named TVA characters realize they’re the baddies actually and team up with a whole army of Lokis to take them down and GIVE US BACK OUR MULTIVERSE
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All Kinds of Love
As promised, some romantic misery with the King of Claymore Country. 
Pairing: Drew McIntyre x reader
Word count: 2,829
Content warnings: Angst, very mild sexual content
Yes, it is the weirdest feeling seeing Wrestlemania reach its crescendo with nary a fan in sight, but you wouldn’t miss this for the world. There he is, clutching the World Championship he so richly deserves, reaching out to the camera, telling the fans that this is their moment. You’re prouder of him and happier for him than you could ever be for yourself, your heart bursting and tears prickling at your eyes as you watch the man you love with everything your heart and soul can muster, fulfill his dream. Drew McIntyre, the love of your life, stands tall- well there’s not really any other way he could stand, you joke inside your brain- and looks like a kind of superhero, even posing for a camera in front of an empty arena. 
When the cameras shut down, he makes his way backstage and you’re the first one there to greet him, beaming up at him with shining eyes and you can see that he knows how close you are to crying, and he looks more than a little choked up himself. He wraps one massive arm around you and pulls you close, pressing a firm kiss to the crown of your head. 
“I could never have done this without you,” he whispers, squeezing you tight to his body. 
You know he means it. He’s said it for years and not once have you ever doubted his sincerity. He releases you and you force a smile, bathing in the tenderness of his expression as he looks into your eyes. Then he makes his way further backstage and you see his wife rush into his arms, embracing him with a passion he returns, their lips meeting before they’ve even exchanged a word. You shouldn’t stare but you can’t help it. You never can. The love between them is almost a physical presence in the room, a physical presence that pushes you off to the side where no one can see you, least of all Drew. 
It’s not that he doesn’t care for you. It’s not that he doesn’t love you, in his way. It’s just not the way that you love him; never has been and never will be. 
The two of you arrived in WWE around the same time, both young and dizzy with excitement, trying to adjust to America having grown up in Europe. You’d heard of him before then but the first time you saw him was your first day in WWE and pretty much from that moment, you were a goner. At first, of course, it was just lust. He was tall, dark and unbelievably handsome with those piercing blue-grey eyes like the Scottish sky over the highlands. He was with someone but you couldn’t help yourself, you made sure you got in his field of vision and befriended him and soon the two of you were joined at the hip- metaphorically. 
Even when he married his girl, you weren’t too worried. You could see that it wasn’t going to last and you remained the most important woman in his life, even if he wouldn’t admit it. You were the one he could relate to and although his passion for the other woman made you feel sick to your stomach, you knew you could wait it out. The relationship came to a pretty ugly end but you were there to buoy his spirits and remind him that he could do better. You were better, although you weren’t so gauche as to say so to his face. 
It wasn’t exactly a secret that you were in love with him but the two of you never discussed it. In your most optimistic moments, you liked to think that he was trying to deal with his complex emotions toward you; he told you regularly that he’d never been so close to a woman, that his friends had always been his lads, which was great but which meant that he’d never shared himself with anyone the way he did with you. When you were feeling low, you knew that he didn’t want to talk about your feelings for him because he didn’t return them. He didn’t love you that way. 
The two of you were “released”- fired- from WWE on the same day. It hurt and being without a job was frightening but it wasn’t the end of the world for you. The women’s division was a dead end at that time and you knew you could do better somewhere else. For him, though, it was like his life became a black hole. The WWE had always been his goal; he’d been dubbed “The Chosen One” for Christ’s sake. How had he managed to go from that to something disposable? What was he going to work for now that he’d reached the Promised Land and failed? He was adrift in dark space, unmoored and directionless, barely able to process what was happening and unable to envision any kind of future. 
“It’s not as bad as you think,” you soothed him, stroking his hair as he rested his head on your shoulder. “We’ll go back home. Yeah, the pay will be shit for a while but we’ll be conquering heroes returning from battle.”
And you were right, but it barely registered with him because he still felt so hopeless. He put in the effort. He got better and stronger and fed off the crowds that adored him but none of it got through to his heart. All those months when you first returned to the UK, the light in his eyes had gone out and it broke your heart like nothing you’d ever experienced before. 
You tended to him, did what you could to patch his invisible wounds with tenderness and encouragement and he tried his best to seem happy. He wasn’t happy, or anything close to happy, but he wanted to be. He wanted to be better for you. 
“I love you for what you’ve done for me,” he’d tell you. Not “I love you”, never that. It was always a qualified love. It still gave you something to hope for. 
Nevertheless, you could see he was stumbling. He was fading before your eyes even as he seemed to be rebuilding himself. The sense of failure, the humiliation at being sent home with his proverbial tail between his legs gnawed away at everything that made him feel human. You were trying to pull him out of the pit but it seemed like gravity was working against you. You couldn’t hold on forever and the idea of losing him terrified you. 
One day, you arrived at his flat with an armful of groceries, determined to get something healthy into him and make him interact with another human being for a couple of hours. You let yourself in and immediately the silence surrounded you, thick and chilling as fog. You left the groceries on the counter and headed to the bedroom, terrified of what you might find there. 
What you found was Drew sprawled on his back, shirtless and still, his eyes closed. You hoped he was only sleeping as you crept softly towards him and felt weak with relief when you saw his massive chest rising and falling. 
“Hi you,” he whispered without opening his eyes, his breath lightly tinged with whiskey. 
“Hi yourself, big man.”
You crawled onto the bed, stretching out next to him and resting your fingers on his bicep. It was the sort of gentle touch you gave him all the time, something to remind him that he was human and that he was immensely loveable, even if he couldn’t truly feel it at that moment. He hummed a little in appreciation, like he usually did to let you know that it was some comfort. 
Then his arm curled around you, pulling you onto him as he gave a tiny, pained smile. 
“You’re an angel,” he murmured. “I’d be done without you.”
His rested one hand on the base of your back and ruffled his fingers through your hair with the other. You thanked the universe that he wasn’t looking at you, so that he couldn’t see the wide-eyed look of fear on your face. The two of you had always been affectionate but you knew instinctively that this was something different and you knew that it was dangerous. Your body tensed but he kept holding on for a long time before he spoke again. 
“Kiss me,” he croaked, barely loud enough for you to understand. 
Eager to please him as ever, you pushed your own emotional safety to the back of your mind and leaned down to touch your lips to his. That’s all it was, a chaste touch and then you pulled back, trembling. Right away, his grip on you tightened and pulled you back down, pressing your mouth to his ever so softly, gradually pressing his tongue between your lips while he held you firmly in place. You’d fantasized hundreds of times of the dam between you breaking, of the two of you allowing yourselves to be carried away on a tsunami of passion. This was nothing like those fantasies but it was somehow more intimidating because Drew needing you was something very different than Drew wanting you. If he needed you, you had some sort of power over him but because you were so desperately in love, you were paradoxically powerless. 
His hands ran down your body and found the hem of your shirt, which he lifted and removed in one smooth motion before rolling the two of you over and kissing you more fervently, his hips slowly moving against yours. 
Finally, he opened his eyes, and for the first time in months, they were a little brighter, there was a little spark that had been missing, a spark that you had put there. 
“Take these off,” he said softly, fingers tugging at the waistband of your leggings. “Let me see you.”
And though you were nervous as hell, you stripped yourself down and opened yourself up to him, arching your back to offer yourself so that he could take whatever he needed. 
It still makes you blush to think about how you spent the next months giving him everything he asked from you, not because his desires were troubling or even strange. You enjoyed all of it, reveling in the attention he lavished on you and feeling a lascivious thrill every time he wanted to try something new. What had always caused you a certain sense of shame was that you never once thought about whether you were going to enjoy any of the things he wanted: you wanted to do anything you thought might make him happy and a good portion of your own enjoyment came from seeing that you were making him happy. 
The two of you were never a “couple”. He was clear that he couldn’t handle that and that he wanted to keep things open. The two of you could see other people, which meant that he occasionally went on dates as he tried to prepare himself to reenter the romantic world and you took on lovers from time to time as a sort of project that you could present to him, to show him that you could pretend you weren’t madly in love with him, if that was what he wanted. 
Then all at once, the crash. He invited you over and cooked you dinner. The two of you chatted and laughed as you always did and it wasn’t awkward that he didn’t try to make love to you because you’d always had nights when you were just friends and those were equally wonderful in their way. Nevertheless, you sat the whole night with a knot in your gut because you knew something was different, you felt the monster rising from the depths. 
So it wasn’t entirely surprising when he pulled back from embracing you as you were leaving and said, “I’ve met someone. I think she’s someone special and I’d like you to meet her.”
His cheeks were flushed with excitement, his eyes glittering like you’d never seen but deep inside them, you saw the guilt. He wanted so much for you to like this new girl. He wanted you to be happy for him. But he knew what it would do to you and that made him feel awful. 
Still, to make him happy, you’d agreed to the dinner. You’d met this new woman, elegant and beautiful and obviously worried about impressing you because you were the best friend, the gatekeeper to his heart. The three of you conversed and drank wine and the two of them held hands and talked about what they’d been up to, things you’d had no part in, part of their special story that was already well underway. The whole night you felt stupid because it seemed like there was a fire alarm inside your ears, drowning out the conversation at times, so that you found yourself asking them to repeat themselves. 
The night crawled by until you felt like you’d spent enough time that you could leave without seeming suspicious. Drew walked you to the door and stepped into the hallway. 
“So what do you think?” he asked. 
You wanted to answer but there was suddenly nothing of you left to answer him. You were an assemblage of scraps dispersed in the wind. You weren’t hurt and you weren’t jealous, at least not in that moment. You were nothing. 
“I… I don’t think I can’t do this,” you answered at length, your voice cracking. 
Immediately, you saw the guilt collapse on him. 
“I’m sorry. I just don’t feel that way about you.”
“I know.”
“I would never do anything to deliberately hurt you. I love you.”
“I know.”
He did love you. He still does love you. He just didn’t love you the way that you needed. He didn’t love you the way you loved him.
You went home that night and cried yourself to sleep. You woke up the next morning crying. You let yourself go, let your life fall to hell, part of you always hoping that Drew would come to your rescue the way you’d come to his. You tried to be bitter about the fact that he wouldn’t do so but it was a false equivalency: when you’d saved him, the problems he had were about everything but you; you needed saving because of him alone. 
Your friends came around with worried expressions painted on their faces but none of them could motivate you to do anything. Everything was heavy, your body was heavy, your feelings were heavy, too heavy for you to move from under their weight. Eventually, one of the men you’d taken to bed in order to show Drew that you were fine with keeping things open between you moved into your second bedroom and set to work taking care of you. On those infrequent, glorious occasions when you met up with Drew for coffee or dinner, he cautioned you to be careful with the man’s feelings. But your roommate wasn’t sick in love with you. He just cared. He cared the way you should have cared for Drew, a way that would have protected you. But you had been done for long before that fateful first kiss. 
You’d stayed as close to Drew as you could handle, even attending his wedding for as long as you could stand being there. And wouldn’t you know it, the two of you found your way back to WWE together, your professional redemption complete. That was the extent of your happy ending. 
You watch as he cups his wife’s face- Kaitlyn, you remind yourself, she a fucking person with a name- and kisses her again and again. 
“We did it, my love,” he tells her, probably unaware that you can hear him, or unaware that you’re there at all. 
You have to sit down because you know your legs aren’t going to bear your weight and for a few moments you think you’re actually going to throw up. You put your head in your hands as the tears flood out of you- you’ve schooled yourself to cry silently because you still come apart every time he accidentally rips your heart out. 
A large body sits down next to you and you feel that instinctive electric charge of hope that it’s Drew, even though you know immediately that it’s Sheamus, always the big brother to the two of you, one who’s always known what you felt for Drew even though you’ve never said a word. He wraps a thick arm around you and squeezes your shoulder. 
At length, you’re able to speak through your sobbing, clawing together the only few words you can think of. “Why doesn’t he love me?”
Sheamus pulls you close and presses his head down on yours. He doesn’t answer because he can’t. There is no answer. This is just the way things happen. It never seems to get any easier. 
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wouldpollyapprove · 4 years
Text
Still Love You
Request: can you do an john x reader based on the song Austin by Blake Shelton
Requested by @magnificentzombiebasement
John Shelby x Reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: violence, language
A/N: I highly recommend listening to the song before or during reading. After this I only have 11 one-shot requests. YES!!! Requests for gif imagines, headcanons, and preferences are still open.
Masterlist
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Y/n rolled her eyes, violently tapping her foot against the hardwood floor. It was in need of dusting, collecting dirt from the four children that ran liked animals through the house. She lifted her gaze from the floor to the man that stood across from her.
“I can’t do that to Tommy,” John shook his head, hands wrapped around the chair in front of him, keeping him balanced. “Not to the family, Y/n.”
“It’s not safe, though. Not for you or me or your fucking kids!” Y/n hissed in a vain attempt to win him over. “If you won’t do it for me please do it for them.
The plea did nothing but soften his eyes, not his heart. 
His hands released the chair and he began to pace. John couldn’t understand why Y/n would ever want him to leave his family. They meant everything to him. Come hell or high water, he would always stand by their side. Nothing shaking his answer, he gave the short answer, no.
Tears pooled in her eyes, she shifted her weight and folded her arms over her chest. “Fine, be a fucking idiot, let your brother get you killed! But I won’t let that man be the death of me!” 
Y/n swiftly retreated from the kitchen and out of the house. There was no turning back now. The idea of leaving Birmingham, finding a nice home in the country, had been ever-present in her mind. Y/n never told John or anyone for that matter, but Birmingham had become a nightmare to her after she was held at gunpoint for so much as knowing the Shelbys. The man ran off when a group of kids accidentally kicked a ball into the alley. Since that incident, more then ever she wanted to escape the life that Tommy had set up for those around him. 
She couldn’t force the decision on John, but she thought it sounded lovely. Away from danger, they could marry and raise his children in open fields of grass, maybe along a riverbank. That was a dream that made her smile. Obviously it didn’t make him do the same. 
Knowing she could no longer live with the life the Shelbys’ had given her, she went to find greener grass.
*~~~*
John had spent weeks searching the city for his girlfriend. He’d called and received no answer. Every time the phone rang and rang and rang. He went to her house, no one answered the door. When he broke in it was apparent that she’d packed her bags and left. All that she’d left was furniture covered in dust. 
“Fuck,” the man muttered, mentally kicking himself for letting her leave that day. He waltzed into the kitchen, feeling sorry for himself. Everything there was left untouched, just like he remembered.
But there was something new. A note neatly laid on the table.
He picked it up, reading it over. 
“I’m sorry to leave like this, you don’t deserve it, but I don’t deserve this life you want. At least not right now. I just need some time to think. I love you, John, I do, but I must see more than the filth of Birmingham for a while. You were supposed to do it with me but your family always comes first. For that, I love you. But they are not my family and therefore I have no reason to stay.”
A sigh escaped his chapped lips. If he’d listened, if he’d been a little more open, she wouldn’t have left. John didn’t blame her for running, he’d thought about it more than once. His family made his life hell but he wouldn’t know what to do without them.
He was happy she’d left, though. 
Y/n had probably found her way back home, to Plymouth. She talked about it all the time. The fresh saltwater that sprayed the city’s banks and the fishing boats that lined the harbor. There wasn’t a thing about her home that she never mentioned. It wouldn’t surprise the man if she was there now, having a picnic with her family along the beach. 
If he hadn’t been an idiot maybe he could have been sitting next to her, his children playing in the water.
*~~*~~*
Taking a deep breath, Y/n picked up the phone. 
Life had been a dream for her, the year after she left Birmingham. First, she went home to see her family. A week in Plymouth helped wash off the grim that the Peaky Blinders had left on her. From there she spent some time in London, visiting her brother and going for walks at the zoo. She then took a train up to Glasgow, where she decided to write a book. It had always been a dream of her’s but she’d never had time until then. It was a fun activity, something she did while watching cows in the Highlands or sailing to an island off the coast of Wales.
Y/n had the time of her life in the year, but it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Her heart hurt from the man she’d left behind. She thought that a month, a few months, hell a fucking year, would allow her to forget about the man she used to love. But her love for the man never faded and was always at the forefront of her mind. 
She placed the phone against her ear, the operator asked her for the number she wanted to call. Did she really want to do this? It became clear that she did when with no hesitation, she told the woman the number.
The phone rang, causing her nerves to make her eyebrow twitch. To calm herself, Y/n played with the phone cord. She instantly dropped it when a voice floated through the phone.
“Yeah.” It was Finn, John’s youngest brother.
Y/n smiled, he had always been one of his favorite siblings. “Um, -” she bit her lip. “It’s Y/n…”
The boy was clearly excited to hear from her again, telling her all about everything that happened since she caught a train home. Finn rambled about Tommy’s horses, the reopening of the Garrison, and even the car that John had bought. “You won’t believe what we’ve got now, Y/n. You’d love it,” he confessed before telling her what she wanted to know. “John’s not here, though. I’d tell him you called, but he gets angry anytime someone mentions your name. Says he never wants to talk to you again.” Her face fell, feeling defeated. “But he saws the opposite when he’s drunk, says he loves you.”
A shaky breath parted her lips. It was a mistake to call.
“Well, it was good to talk to you Finn. I miss you, I really do. Can you do me a favor?” she asked, hoping he still liked her enough to do so. 
“Yeah, what is it?”
“Can you not mention to anyone that I called?”
The young man agreed and once they said their goodbyes, Y/n hung up the phone. Sliding to the floor, her knees came up to her chest. John still loved her. God, what a bitch she was for leaving. The grief she had put him through by walking out that door. How could she have done that to a man that had already lost so much? Tears fell from her eye, dampening the material of her skirt that rested on her knees. 
She stayed like that for hours, dehydrating herself with each tear. What kind of love made a man love a woman no matter the distance? That question rattled her brain for the next three days before it forced her to call again.
Finn wasn’t the one to pick up the phone this time, Polly was.
Her breath hitched in her throat, now she felt like she was in trouble. If Polly were standing in front of her at that moment, in her kitchen in Hunstanton, she would be scolding her. Telling Y/n that she should have let her help. But instead, she ran like a coward. 
“Hello?” the woman asked.
Y/n closed her eyes, “Hi Polly,” she greeted.
Polly hummed, a smile evident on her face. “Y/n,” she breathed. “What a lovely surprise! How have you been?”
Her voice was full of nothing but cheer, making Y/n smile. “I’ve been good, how about you?”
“About as good as can be expected when it comes to dealing with Shelby men,” she huffed, clearly irritated with one or more of her nephews. “I assume you’re looking for John, don’t know why you’d call otherwise.”
A laugh was her response before she confirmed Polly’s suspicions. 
The woman sighed. “He’d not here, I’m afraid. John’s been busy lately. He took the kids to a baseball game on Friday. They needed to get out of the house, it hasn’t been as calm without you,” she confessed. “He left for London this morning with Tommy and Arthur, I’m watching his heathens until he returns tomorrow.”
Y/n nodded, not sure if she had the strength to call a third time and not have him answer. “I’m glad he’s been staying busy.”
“Why don’t you leave your number and I will make sure he calls you back?”
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea. I don’t want him to be forced to talk to me.”
Polly laughed and told the girl what a fool she was. “Darling, that boy is head over heels in love with you. He loves you, he’s never stopped loving you. So, leave me your number because he needs you, Y/n. Don’t let him fool himself for thinking otherwise.”
Reluctantly, Y/n gave her her house number. Polly assured her that John would be calling her the next day.
The next day, Y/n could barely force herself out of bed. The air was chilly, her robe wrapped tightly around her as she made her way to the kitchen. She put on a pot of tea and sat at the kitchen table, a bowl of porridge and a scone sat uneaten in front of her for hours. Y/n tried to sip at her tea, but did nothing but let it get cold. Instead, she leaned against the back of her chair, staring out the window. 
A knock at the door forced her into reality. 
She pushed herself out of the chair with a sigh and shuffled to the door. At least the phone hadn’t rung. She was sure that if it had, she would have jumped out of her skin. She wasn’t ready to talk to John, but would she ever be? The door was pulled open, her face going pale at who stood behind it.
“John,” she breathed.”
His eyes lite up, lips turning up in a shy smile. “Polly told me you called.”
There was nothing she could say, not as she embraced him, burying her face in his chest. Oh, how she had missed his scent, the feel of his body against her’s. Before she knew it, sobs racked her body, tears wetting the man’s suit. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she cried. “I shouldn’t have left b-but I thought- I thought…”
John rubbed her back, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay, love. It’s okay now. I’m here and you’re here.”
Y/n pushed herself off him, using the back of her hand to wipe away her tears. “It’s not! I left you and you never stopped loving me.” More tears poured from her eyes. “It was stupid, so stupid! I love you and I should have stayed.” She could barely keep herself upright, John wrapped his arms around her to keep her from collapsing to the floor.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay now. We’ll figure it out. Things won’t be normal, but they won’t be hell.”
*~~*~~*
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bee-kathony · 4 years
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Blue Christmas | Jamie & Claire one shot 
a/n: Merry Christmas! I wrote this a few weeks ago, so I thought I’d finally post it. Comes in at a whopping 13,154 words so you’ll need to brew a cup of hot chocolate and settle in for this one! Now... this will probably be my last fic for awhile, possibly ever, we��ll see how I feel after everything has settled. I hope you enjoy and Merry Christmas! xx and thank you @julesbeauchamp for the moodboard! 
December 23rd, 2019
Oxford, England
The wine glass in her hand was becoming dangerously low. Dangerous, because without the warm liquid filling Claire’s belly, she’d remember just exactly why she was drinking alone.
Christmas was a time of celebration and joy. A time for families to come together, laugh and exchange presents. Everyone would gather around the fireplace and tell stories or watch a classic Christmas film.
Claire was celebrating in her own way two days before Christmas. Her divorce had been finalized this morning, which was a good thing, but not exactly something that would lift the spirits.
Her ex-husband, Frank Randall had been a kind man, emphasis on had. They’d been married a short five years, and during that time, Frank hadn’t been faithful — at all. When Claire found out about one woman, it led to another and another… and another. Frank seemed to have a string of women lined up all around the city. It made Claire feel like a fool for trusting him and believing that he truly loved her.
So, with her divorce final, Claire was celebrating Christmas alone for the first time in her life. The first several years of her life she barely remembered, and until she had married Frank, she had spent every Christmas with her aunt and uncle in London.
Uncle Lamb insisted she come and join them this year, but the thought of having to pretend she was okay was mind-numbing. Being around her family would be nice, but seeing all the cheer and jovial faces wasn’t something she could handle.
A quiet meow came from her left, and Claire looked over to see her cat Adso licking his feet. Well, she wasn’t quite alone, at least she had her cat.
“I’m becoming a crazy cat lady at the ripe age of twenty-seven,” Claire said wistfully, petting Adso on the head, making him purr gently. “Just you and me now.”
There wasn’t even a Christmas movie that Claire could watch because they usually all ended with two people falling in love, and love was not something Claire wanted to think about. It killed her to know that Frank was probably screwing some blonde university bimbo right now, while she sat alone in the dark, not a decoration in sight.
Thankfully, she had the next two weeks off to wallow in self-pity. Claire worked at the local library, where she was able to read to her heart’s content. Her best friend Geillis also worked with her, although she didn’t read all that much, which always made Claire laugh. Why take a position at a library if one didn’t like to read?
Gathering enough energy to get off the sofa, Claire set her now empty glass down in search of a new bottle. If she had to spend this Christmas alone, she certainly wouldn’t be spending it sober.
As Claire grabbed a new bottle, she passed by the fridge, which was still littered with the odd bits and pictures of her and Frank’s life. A yellow post-it note caught her attention. It read, “I’ll be out late, eat without me!”
She yanked it off, crumpling it into a small paper ball before tossing it in the trash can. “You bastard,” she said to the post-it and to Frank.
Sooner or later, she would need to get rid of all his things. The process had begun two months ago when she’d found out about his affairs. Claire had gathered up as many clothes of his that she could carry in her two arms and tossed them out the second-story window, much to Frank’s complaints.
Laughing at this memory, Claire grabbed a packet of biscuits before plopping back down on the sofa.
“Another glass for the woman who’s destined to be alone,” Claire said to herself, watching the dark liquid fill her cup.
Just as she picked it up, a loud knock came from the door, making her spill it all over her pajama pants. “Shit!” Claire stood up quickly, checking to see if any had got on her couch, and thankfully (or not so thankfully) it had all landed on her.
Another knock came from the door, “Open up!”
“Geillis?” Claire raced to the door, patting at her pants. “What on earth are you doing here?”
Her friend held up a bottle of wine and a box of pizza. “Solidarity? I wasn’t going to let you spend tonight alone. I canna be wi’ ye on Christmas, so I thought tonight would suffice.”
“Get in here,” Claire grinned, hugging her friend as she passed. “I should make you buy me a new pair of pajama bottoms! Spilled half my glass of wine all over them when you knocked.”
Geillis looked her over, wincing as she saw the dark red stain. “Och, Christ, Claire. I’m verra sorry about that.”
“You should be,” Claire crossed her arms as she leaned on the counter, the smell of the pizza making her mouth water. “But you brought sustenance so all is forgiven!”
“Go make yourself at home, I’ll just go change out of these,” Claire rolled her eyes, laughing as she went to her room. It should’ve been hard to be in the bedroom that Frank and she had shared, but he was barely home towards the end. The reason for that was clear now. They had moved into this house only two years ago after Frank accepted the teaching position at Oxford. Most of the memories Claire had made here, had been on her own.
Returning with a freshly washed pair of fuzzy bottoms, Claire sat down next to Geillis who was already on her second slice.
“So ye really didna decorate for Christmas, huh?”
It was true. The room was dark with the lack of twinkling lights and not a bauble in sight. “I didn’t feel like decorating just for myself. Not this year at least.”
“I get it,” Geillis nodded. “But I wish ye wouldn’t spend the whole holidays wallowing in self-pity. Ye should put on a fancy dress and go get yerself laid,” she winked. “Now, that will lift yer spirits, ye ken?”
“I ken,” Claire smirked. “But I don’t think anyone would want to get with this sorry lump of coal.”
“Excuse me?” Geillis nearly spit out her wine. “If yer a lump of coal, then what am I?!”
“Oh, you’re gold darling, absolute gold,” Claire laughed. “I appreciate the encouragement, but I’d rather not wake up in a strange bed with a strange man.”
“But that’s often the best kind,” Geillis nudged her in the side. “Well, if ye willna go get laid, please dinna stay here in this miserable depressing house. Go see yer uncle or go take a trip somewhere. Ye’ve earned it, Beauchamp.”
That hit her like a gut punch. Beauchamp. Her maiden name. “Guess I’ll have to get used to saying that again. A trip you say?” She sipped her wine. “But it’s two days before Christmas, where on earth could I go that would have availability?”
“Try Scotland, my homeland,” Geillis grinned and ran her finger gently down Adso’s back. “Tis just a quick hop on a plane, gets ye out of England at least.”
“I’ve never been to Scotland,” Claire said. “Do I just find a bed and breakfast in some quaint village?”
“Aye,” Geillis nodded and then whipped out her phone. “Or ye can search for a cute holiday spot in Scotland. Let’s say the highlands somewhere.”
As Claire let Geillis search for a place for her to go, she looked around at her house. While she could wallow, the idea of sitting in the dark wasn’t exactly appealing. She had the next two weeks off, and she might as well try and enjoy herself a bit. After all, she should be celebrating the fact that she’s no longer married to Frank who took every opportunity to cheat on her.
“How long do ye want to stay?” Geillis asked.
“Umm, I don’t know. Maybe four days? Five? I’ll have to find somewhere for Adso to stay,” Claire smiled as her cat purred beneath her hand.
“Oh, I’ll watch the wee cheetie,” Geillis mumbled. “So, in the highlands… with availability.”
“Oh and make sure it’s not some romantic getaway destination,” Claire added.
“Lassie,” Geillis laughed. “It’s Scotland. The whole damn country is a romantic destination! But dinna fash, I’ll find ye a good spot.”
“While you do that, I’m going to turn on the fireplace,” Claire said as she stood up. She flicked a switch that turned on the gas and immediate heat came to life. Claire stood in front of the fireplace, trying to get warm.
There was something rather exciting about traveling to a country she’d never been before. Claire fancied herself as a bit of a gypsy — her home was wherever she was. And Scotland was a place she’d always wanted to visit, it seemed like now was as good a time as any.
“Oh, I think I found it,” Geillis stood up from the sofa to show her the phone. “Tis called Fraser’s Ridge. A collection of cabins of all sizes up in the Highlands.”
“Fraser’s Ridge,” Claire repeated and began to flick through the pictures. The cabins looked very cozy and inviting. “They have availability?”
“That’s what their website says,” Geillis said. “Want me to book it? It’ll be my Christmas present to ye… since I may have forgotten to buy ye a gift,” she winced.
“You don’t have to do that, Geillis!”
“I do! Ye need to take time for yerself,” Geillis slid her arm around Claire’s waist, squeezing tight. “Ye’ve had a rough year, and now ye can go up to a cute wee cabin and relax.”
Claire looked through the pictures again, noting how charming they looked. “It says here that each cabin was hand-built by the owner and his father.”
“Oooh, the crafty type,” Geillis winked. “Ye should make sure ye get a good look at the owner then. If he’s good wi’ his hands…” she made a lewd hand motion.
“Geillis Duncan!” Claire laughed, nudging her friend in the ribs. “There will be nothing of the sort. I bet he’s in his 60’s, overweight and balding.”
“Are ye picky then?”
Claire shot her friend a look, then laughed and moved back to the sofa. “Fine, if you want to book it, then go for it. It’ll be better than me and Adso rotting away like Miss Havisham while I sit in my wedding dress.”
“Ye should give that away or somethin’,” Geillis said as she typed Claire’s details into her phone to book the holiday. “I mean, I ken it’s full of memories and such, but surely those have all been tainted.”
“I guess you’re right,” Claire sighed, leaning her head back on the sofa. “I could give it to charity. Or you. Would you like a used wedding dress, Geillis?”
“Not a chance,” Geillis smirked. “Okay, I’ve put yer name as Claire Beauchamp. It’s five days, and you leave tomorrow.”
“Christmas Eve,” Claire ran her hand through her curls. “Guess I’d better pack!”
“Will ye promise me ye’ll bring somethin’ sexy to wear? Just in case the owner turns out to be a mysterious highland hunk?”
“God, you’re insufferable,” Claire chuckled and tossed a pillow at her friend who narrowly dodged it. “For you, I’ll pack it, but it will get no use.”
“We’ll see,” Geillis smirked, forwarding Claire the confirmation email.
++++++
After Geillis went home that night, Claire went into her closet and packed a travel bag full of everything she thought she’d need. The owner said he would have a car come and pick her up at the airport, and then to get some groceries if she needed them. Besides that, she wouldn’t even need to leave the cabin. Cozy sweaters and loungewear were all that she intended to wear, but she did pack a sexy silky pajama set she had yet to wear just so when Geillis asked her about it later, she could say she brought it.
She felt nuts to be boarding a plane on Christmas Eve, but she wasn’t alone. The airport was packed with other holiday travelers flying all over the world. Claire loved to people watch — coming up with stories for people.
There was a little girl Claire had been watching for the last several minutes while she waited for the plane to take off. She sat two rows in front of Claire and kept popping her head over the seat to look back at her.
“Hi,” Claire waved. The little girl ducked back down with a shy smile before popping her head up again. This pattern went on several times before the girl’s mother told her to sit still.
The flight was a short one, but Claire always got motion sickness on flights or in cars and so she took a Dramamine to help ease the nausea she was already feeling. She was also slightly nervous to be going to a place she’d never been on her own. Every vacation in the past had been with Frank, so now she was venturing out, and so far things were going well.
Nearly two hours later, Claire woke up to the sound of the pilot telling them that they would be landing shortly. Her head felt foggy, and she stretched in her seat the best she could.
“Couldn’t have sprung for first-class, Geillis?” Claire chuckled to herself.
She only had a carry-on duffel and a large purse that held her laptop and a few books for the trip.
The email said that one of their employees would be picking her up and would have her name on a sign. So it wasn’t a surprise whenever she walked out of the gate to find a tall bearded man, holding a sign that read, “C. Beauchamp.”
“Hi,” Claire smiled at the man. “Are you from Fraser’s Ridge?”
“Aye,” he nodded. “I’m Murtagh FitzGibbons. I take it ye are C. Beauchamp?”
“That’s me. I don’t have to wait for a bag so I’m ready when you are,” Claire said.
The man made a Scottish sound in the back of his throat and then took her duffel. A slight panic crept in as she followed this stranger out to the car. She was a woman traveling alone on one of the busiest holidays. This would be the time that she could be taken advantage of, perhaps taken to some remote place and murdered.
“Christ, Beauchamp,” she shook that murderous thought out of her head and told herself everything would be fine.
“Do ye need to stop at the grocer’s for any food for yer stay?” Murtagh asked as he started the car.
“Um, yes please, if there’s one on the way,” she replied.
“Aye, there is. The Ridge is about an hour away from here, so best get comfortable,” Murtagh smiled at her as he turned on her seat heater. Fraser’s Ridge did have five-star reviews, and so far, she knew why.
Murtagh drove her to the grocery store where she picked up snacks and food she could easily prepare. Wine of course, and a bottle of whisky… two bottles of whisky. The rest of the drive was silent, as Claire took in the beautiful Scottish landscape. The rolling green hills, covered in snow as they drove further north.
By the time they reached Fraser’s Ridge, the sun was beginning to go down, even though it was just the afternoon. The air was crisp and cold, making Claire shiver as she stepped out of the warm embrace of the heated car.
“The owner, Jamie, my godson, is out tonight and tomorrow to be wi’ his sister and her family. But, I’ll help ye check-in and then see ye safe to yer cabin. Jamie will probably stop by to welcome ye properly when he gets back,” Murtagh said as he picked up her bag again.
“You’re his godfather?” Claire asked. “Why aren’t you spending Christmas with them, if you don’t mind me asking?”
He grunted, “Och, well, I’m no’ much of a holiday man. And someone had to see to the place over the holidays. Jamie did it last year and I kent he wanted to spend time wi’ his sister, Jenny.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Claire smiled warmly. “I look forward to meeting this Jamie whenever he comes back. This place is absolutely beautiful.”
“Aye, lass,” Murtagh smiled as he walked up a trail towards a small building that must be their offices.
“There’s a wee book that tells ye a bit about the place,” Murtagh said as he wrote her name down. “It also has information about wifi, if that’s somethin’ yer interested in.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a gold key. “Cabin 2,” he handed it to her. “If ye’ll just follow me.”
They walked back outside, and it was beginning to snow lightly. On the way up here, Claire noticed that they really were in a remote part of the highlands. Although, it seemed most of the highlands was remote compared to the busy streets of Oxford or London.
“Are there other people here? Or is it just me being a complete and utter loser on Christmas?” Claire chuckled sadly.
“There are a few other folks,” Murtagh looked back at her. “A few families that like to spend the holidays up here. We have ten cabins in total, and this season only three are vacant.”
“Wow,” Claire was impressed. It was an ideal location, but most people stay at home with their family’s at Christmas time. “Well, it’s really lovely.”
Her cabin was just a short walk from the office, with its own trail that led to the door. Claire could tell that it was built with skill and precision. Everything looked so intentional and yet still had that rustic element that all cabins had. Murtagh walked up to the door, waiting for her to unlock it.
She turned the key, opening the door to a dark room. Murtagh flicked on the switch and Claire gasped.
“Pretty, ain’t it?” Murtagh smirked and then set her bag down. “Jamie insisted on decorating every cabin for Christmas. I told him ‘twas a bit much, but,” the man shrugged.
There were lights strung around the room, making it sparkle. A large tree stood in the corner, fully decorated, with cranberry and popcorn and every bauble to go with it. The fireplace had greenery on top, fit with knitted stockings. It wasn’t cheesy or tacky. Claire wasn’t trying to escape Christmas, just her depressing home she had shared with her ex-husband. This… this was perfect.
“Well, I’ll leave ye to it,” Murtagh said. “Our office number is listed in the book as well if ye need anythin’. Enjoy your stay, Miss Beauchamp.”
“Thank you,” Claire smiled as Murtagh shut the door, leaving her on her own. The first order of business was to get the fireplace going, and upon first inspection, it wasn’t a gas one like Claire’s.
There was wood already set up, as well as kindling and a box of matches on top of the mantle. “Here goes nothing,” Claire muttered as she struck the match. At first, nothing happened, but soon the kindling caught the flame and began to fan out to the logs.
“First try,” she clapped her hands together.
There was a small kitchen connected to the living room, stocked with all the appliances one could need. The master bedroom was spacious, with a cozy king-sized bed that Claire was very much looking forward to getting into later. A bathroom connected to the bedroom, with a shower and clawfoot tub.
“The pictures don’t do this place justice,” Claire sighed as she walked back into the living room which was warming up nicely. There was a ladder that led up to a small loft area with plush seating. A cute little reading nook for later.
Claire continued her curious look around as she opened up the back door. There was a fire pit outside, with logs set up around it for seating. She managed to get the inside fire lit but wasn’t counting on her skills with an outdoor pit.
Before she settled onto the comfy looking sofa, Claire took her bag into the room and unpacked it. Then she put her groceries away, grabbing a packet of crisps and a plaid before snuggling in for the night.
The remote was on the coffee table and when she turned it on, The Holiday was playing.
“I can’t turn this off, now can I?” She rolled her eyes but smiled as Jude Law’s character put on his glasses.
After the movie ended, and Claire had eaten her weight in crisps, she groggily made her way to the bedroom. Not bothering with pajamas, she flopped down onto the bed face first and within moments fell fast asleep.
++++++
On Christmas morning, Claire treated herself to a cup of coffee and store bought croissants. There were no presents under the tree to open, and no one would call. Maybe her uncle Lamb, but later once his own children had opened their gifts.
“Another day of movies and crisps,” Claire sighed as she took up the corner spot on the sofa.
Hours passed in that order. One movie would end, and another would begin. She had given up on trying to avoid cheesy Christmas movies, as that seemed to be the only thing playing on virtually every station.
Claire felt herself drifting off to sleep during Elf, but was startled when a loud knock came from the front door. “What the bloody hell,” she yawned and jumped off the sofa. Grabbing the plaid, she wrapped it around her body as she shuffled to the door.
A very tall, very large, red headed man stood on the front porch. He had an axe in one hand, and a bag in the other.
“Um, are you going to murder me?” Claire glanced at the axe.
The man followed her gaze and burst into a laugh. “Oh, Christ! It does look like that. No, God no. I came to see if ye needed any wood cut for the place.”
“Perhaps,” Claire said, eyeing the man. She had to admit that he was very attractive, and his accent had that deep burr of someone who had lived in the highlands all his life, the r’s rolling off his tongue.
“Yer probably wonderin’ who this strange man is on yer front steps,” the man said as he took off his gloves and stuck out his hand. “I’m Jamie Fraser. Of Fraser’s Ridge.”
“Ah,” Claire smiled and shook his hand. “That makes a lot of sense,” she laughed. “I’m Claire Beauchamp. I just got in last night. Your godfather, Murtagh, was it? He said that you wouldn’t be around today.”
Jamie put his gloves back on his large hands. “Well, I wasna supposed to be, but then my sister Jenny’s daughter Maggie got sick after the festivities and so I was freed. Thought I’d just come back to check on everyone and to wish them a Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Claire grinned. “I must say, this place is wonderful. Did you really build every one?”
“Aye,” Jamie’s cheeks blushed. “With my Da before he passed a few years back. We ran this place together. It was a way to show the beauty of Scotland, and remind everyone to take time for themselves. What brought ye here?”
“Oh,” Claire paused, not sure how much of her personal life to disclose to a near stranger. “Just needed a break from my life back in England.”
“I kent ye were a Sassenach,” Jamie smiled warmly.
“Sassenach?”
“English person,” he replied. “More or less.”
There was still snow falling, and Claire began to shiver in the doorway. “Would you like to come in Mr. Fraser? It’s bloody freezing out there!”
“Och,” he shook his head. “I’ll just go and chop the wood for ye and bring it back. I wouldna want to impose on ye.”
“It wouldn’t be an imposition,” Claire said, and realized that she really wouldn’t mind spending more time with this man. He had a kindness to him, one that instantly drew her to him.
“I willna be long,” Jamie turned to leave. “And call me Jamie please, Sassenach.”
She waited until he had fully gone to shut the door. He would be back.
Racing to her bedroom, she tossed the plaid on the bed and began to root around in the drawers for something more suitable to wear. Of bloody course she had only brought oversized sweaters and lounge wear. “Didn’t think you’d be meeting a handsome Scot, now would you? Didn’t listen to Geillis,” she mumbled.
Pulling out a green sweater, Claire thought it was the most presentable option and replaced it with the old t-shirt she had been wearing. She only felt a little foolish to be primping herself for his return. Licking her fingers, she tried to assemble the bird’s nest called her curly hair into order.
She was not certain how long it would take him to chop down fresh wood. An image of the man Jamie holding the axe in his hands, droplets of sweat on his brow as he struck down with force on the wood filled her mind. Claire let her eyes closed as she pictured how he would grunt with every strike, again and again. He was clearly well built, so his muscles would flex.
“Christ, Beauchamp,” she shook her head, looking back at herself in the mirror. “Would you get a bloody grip?!”
She knew she shouldn’t have changed her appearance for a man. There was nothing that would come of this, so why did she want to look good for him? After Frank, Claire thought it would take her a long time to be open to any kind of relationship, let alone whatever she was imagining with Fraser.
He said he was going to chop down wood for everyone that needed some, so it could take awhile. The sofa called to her, and Claire sat down, grabbing a book off the coffee table. Her ear was tuned to any slight sound outside, waiting for Jamie’s return.
It took several tries for Claire to focus on the pages before her. She must have read the same paragraph nearly ten times, as her mind was picturing running her fingers through Jamie’s red curls.
“My God woman,” Claire muttered, feeling herself growing flushed. “This is not a cheesy Christmas movie. You’re not going to get laid by the owner of the place who kindly brings you wood.”
If Geillis were here, she would tell Claire to be open and take risks. But Claire had exchanged a few words with the man, and while she assumed he didn’t have a wife or family of his own, there was no way of knowing he wasn’t promised to some other woman.
Soon, Claire’s attention was hooked by her book, and as the minutes turned into hours, she had nearly forgotten about Jamie coming back. One look out the window showed her that it was still snowing, nearly a blizzard too. It was also growing dark outside, and she knew enough to know that chopping wood in the dark was a recipe for disaster.
Her curiosity sparked, Claire rose from the sofa and went to find her boots. Her gut told her that she should at least check that he was okay, if she could even find him out there. Once her shoes were tied, Claire grabbed her coat off the hook near the door. The fresh cold air hit her face, making her gasp as it took her breath away.
The steps were icy as she descended slowly. Obviously, she should look in the woods behind the cabin first. What would she do if she couldn’t find him? Go to the offices, demanding to know where he was? She would look insane and probably desperate. However, he did say he would come back and it’d been nearly four hours.
As she turned the corner round the back of the house, a flash of red caught her eye and she made her way carefully over.
“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!”
She wouldn’t have to venture out into the icy woods after all. Jamie was lying in the snow, clearly stuck and unconscious. His axe lay nearby as did a pile of wood. He didn’t have any signs of bleeding, so he must have slipped on the ice and passed out.
Claire bent next to his body, her fingers instantly checking for his pulse at his neck. His skin was chilled, but she felt a steady thrum under her fingers, echoing her own. Jamie’s lips were a light shade of blue — he must have been out for hours. And all this time, she sat warm and inside, none the wiser.
“Jamie,” she rubbed her hand over his cheek. He didn’t stir. There was snow covering his body and she began to wipe it off. If he didn’t wake, she wasn’t sure she could lift him into the cabin to warm him up. “Jamie, please wake up!”
Rubbing her hands together for warmth, she then placed them on his cheeks to warm them up. She had no idea what else to do save strip naked and put her body next to his. Things hadn’t gotten to that point she thought sadly.
“Jamie,” she said again loudly. “Mr. Fraser, you’ve got to wake up.”
Finally, she saw a twitch near his lip, and soon his eyes slowly opened, snowflakes falling down his cheeks. “Sassenach?” He said with a dry voice.
“Oh thank God,” Claire sighed, leaning her head briefly on his chest. “You must have slipped on ice and passed out. I think you’ve been out here for hours, and the snow has really picked up.”
“Have I?” He blinked rapidly. “Aye, I can barely feel my fingers so I must have.”
“Do you think you can stand?” Claire asked, “I might be able to help get you inside.”
“Let me try,” his mouth quirked up into a smile. It seems even freezing temperatures couldn’t dampen his spirit. Jamie sat up stiffly, flexing his gloved fingers out in front of him. Rising to her feet, Claire offered him both her hands to pull him up. It took all the strength she had to lift him up. And when she did, he nearly toppled them both over again.
“Okay, let’s try walking,” Claire wrapped one arm around his waist to steady him. They took slow steps and thankfully they were very close to the cabin. The steps took a little bit longer, but with the promise of warmth inside, Jamie managed to make it.
“Och, Christ, I’m freezin’,” Jamie shivered as Claire shut the door behind them.
“Come and sit by the fire,” Claire led him over. “I’ll get you a blanket.”
She walked quickly to her bedroom to grab the plaid she’d tossed there earlier. When she came back to the living room, Jamie was standing in nothing but his trousers. His chest was gleaming, with a tuft of auburn curls, and Claire froze in her tracks as she stared at him.
“Um,” she said, her eyes greedily taking him in.
“I need to get out of these cold wet clothes,” Jamie blushed, bringing color back to his cheeks. “I’m sorry to appear so indecent before ye, but…”
She waved him away and moved closer, holding out the blanket. “No, it’s fine. You’re right, anyways. You can’t be sitting in those clothes.”
Jamie held the blanket in his hands gingerly, staring back at her. “Would ye perhaps look away for a bit just so I can get my trousers off? I swear I willna flash ye or anythin’,” he chuckled.”
“Oh, that’s fine!” Claire blurted, wondering if she meant it would be fine if he flashed her. Feeling heat creep up her chest, she turned and walked to the kitchen to heat up a cup of tea for him.
Jamie’s clothes made up a wet pile near the door, and he now sat by the fire, presumably naked.
“I’ll hang these up in the bathroom so they can dry out a bit,” Claire set his cup of steaming tea before him.
She now had a nearly naked Scotsman in her living room, clothed in a plaid with no dry clothes. What had she gotten herself into?
As Claire returned to him, she was pleased to see that his color was already returning, his skin no longer showing a startling sign of blue. “You really scared me out there,” she said as she sat down across from him on the carpeted floor.
“Who knows what would have become of me had ye not found me,” Jamie sipped the tea. “Were ye comin’ to find me or was there another reason ye were out in the blizzard?”
“I was worried,” Claire admitted freely. “It’d been nearly four hours and you hadn’t returned.”
“Tracking the time, eh?” He teased her, clearly loving to watch her squirm. “I’m glad ye did.”
“I suppose I’ll have to go back later and fetch the wood,” Claire pointed back outside. “I don’t want you to go outside until you’re fully warm and your lips are no longer blue!”
“Are they?” He touched them with his fingertips. “Christ, my balls are blue too,” he laughed.
Claire couldn’t help but laugh, and tried her hardest not to let her eyes wander down to that part of his anatomy. She had heard that old joke about how Scotsmen don’t wear anything under their kilts and she wondered…
“What’s yer story, Claire Beauchamp,” Jamie said a moment later, startling her out of her thoughts.
“My story?” Claire grabbed another plaid from the chair nearby, wrapping it around her shoulders. “I’m quite plain really, there isn’t much to say.”
“Och,” Jamie scoffed. “I dinna believe that. A beautiful English woman such as yerself is far from plain, and besides, everyone has got a story.”
“Then what’s your story, Jamie Fraser,” Claire asked, feeling completely at ease.
“Agh, that’s not fair! I asked ye first,” he laughed.
“I’ll tell you once you tell me yours,” she nudged his bare foot with her fuzzy sock clad one.
Jamie eyed her suspiciously, and Claire noticed for the first time how strikingly blue his eyes were. A stark contrast to her own dark amber ones. Everything about his was a stark contrast to her — his flaming red hair to her dull brown, his tanned skin to her pale, and his largeness to her smaller frame.
He set the cup of tea on the coffee table, careful not to let the plaid slip. “Well, ye ken about how I built this place wi’ my Da. I mentioned he passed a few years ago, and my Mam passed a few years before him.”
“I’m so sorry, Jamie,” Claire said.
“Tis hard sometimes,” he shrugged, giving her a warm smile. “Not always, as most days ye think of them randomly and wi’ a happy memory. Holidays are hard, especially this time of year for me.”
He began to tell her about his life. How he had lived in Scotland all his life, but gone to university in Paris, and earned his degree in business. He had one older sister, Jenny, who was married to his childhood best friend Ian and they had three children. As Jamie talked about his family and his childhood home, Lallybroch, Claire could picture it in her mind. His knack for telling stories was unmatched, and she figured that would be the Scottish-ness of him. Geillis was quite good at telling stories of her own.
“I’m a simple man, who only needs a few things,” Jamie continued. “I remember when we first found this land. I’ve always thought that I needed a mountain to live on, a space to call my own and this is it.”
“You live here on the property then?”
“Aye, just a five-minute drive down the road though,” he nodded, pulling the plaid tight around him. “My Da and I built that first to see if we could even build anythin’,” he laughed.
“But it was somethin’ special once we finally finished it. The first night there was everything I thought and more,” he said dreamily. “There’s somethin’ about building yer own house wi’ yer own two hands. It makes ye appreciate the walls around ye that keep ye warm and safe.”
“It’s amazing what you’ve created here, Jamie,” Claire reached out and placed her hand on his. “I’m sure if your father were here, he’d be proud of all the success.”
“I’d like to think so,” Jamie moved his fingers over hers, squeezing lightly. “Ye said that ye were plain,” he sniffed. “I feel my story is quite plain and boring.”
“It’s not,” Claire shook her head slowly. “It’s yours and that’s what matters.”
He cocked a brow at her, and she rolled her eyes playfully. “Alright, I get it. My story is important too. Although once I tell it to you, you’ll find it’s rather depressing.”
“Well, spit it out, Sassenach,” he rubbed his thumb over her fingers, still clinging on. “Dinna leave me in suspense.”
Claire took a deep breath, deciding that she would be truthful with him — after all, he had told her all about his life, it was the least she could do.
“For starters, I should tell you the real reason I’m here… alone, on Christmas,” Claire began. “I just recently got divorced, and quite frankly, I didn’t want to spend another second in my house that wasn’t decorated and that reminded me of my ex.”
“Who was daft enough to let a lass like ye go?” Jamie smirked, not making her feel pitiful like she usually did when she told people.
“Frank Randall,” Claire groaned. “That’s who. He cheated on me with nearly half the population of Oxford. I was the fool who found out five years into our marriage. I really thought he loved me, and that he was different, but I guess all men are the same deep down.”
Jamie cleared his throat at this, causing her to look up.
“Perhaps not all men,” she corrected. “But the Frank’s of the world are all cut of the same cloth. It’s a relief to not be married to him anymore, but I never thought I would be a divorced woman at the age of twenty-seven.”
“Frank Randall is an idiot,” Jamie said sternly. “He had a wonderful wife, and he clearly didna pay any attention to her. A wife is someone that should be cherished, kissed every day and respected.”
“Are you married?” Claire gulped as she asked. She had seen no ring on his finger, even now as he gripped her hand.
“No, no I havena been so lucky,” he smiled sadly. “But I watched how my parents were. I saw the love between them, the partnership they shared, and I ken that one day I want to have a love like theirs.”
Claire could see that he loved his parents very much, and was sad for him that he had lost them both. “I lost my parents when I was about five,” she said. “I don’t remember what their marriage was like, but my uncle whom I lived with told me they loved each other deeply.”
“There’s hope for ye yet, Sassenach,” Jamie grinned. “Ye’ll find a man who will treat ye as ye  deserve, I ken it.”
With stories exchanged, a hush fell upon the room. Claire’s hand was still held between Jamie’s fingers, and she had no intention of letting go. She looked out the window to see that the snow was still falling, adding to the already high pile of fluff.
“It looks like you may be here for the night,” Claire said and he followed her gaze to the window. “The roads are probably covered with the stuff, and you’re still shivering.”
Jamie’s teeth chattered, proving her right. “You should take the bedroom, you’ll be much warmer in a cozy bed than on the sofa. I don’t want to be held responsible for the owner of Fraser’s Ridge losing all his toes!”
“Nah, Claire,” he shook his head. “I canna take yer room. Ye paid for it, and I wouldna feel right puttin’ ye out. I’ll sleep by the fire if I must.”
“No,” Claire stood up and held out her hand to him. “You were passed out in the snow for hours, Jamie! You’re obviously still cold, and there’s a small fireplace in their too. You would know after all.”
He seemed to be weighing his options. While the sofa was comfortable, it was nothing compared to a pocket of warmth one found in a big bed. Jamie was a large man, and Claire bet that his feet would hang off the sofa.
“If you feel so guilty, then you can comp me the night for putting me out of the room,” Claire smirked, her hand still stretched out for him to take.
With a deep grunt, Jamie took her hand and stood up, keeping the plaid wrapped tightly over his body. Claire wanted to slip her hands inside to touch him but pulled her hand away as soon as he was stable.
“There’s also a hot water bottle under the bathroom sink,” Jamie sniffed. “Would ye mind fixin’ it up for me? It seems I still canna feel the tips of my wee fingers,” he wiggled them in front of her.
“Of course,” Claire grinned. “And I’ll bring you another cup of tea once you’re settled. Who knew I would be tucking a very large scot into bed on Christmas night?!”
“Certainly no’ me,” Jamie chuckled. He turned then to go to the bedroom, leaving Claire alone to fix up a fresh cuppa.
There was no way she could fall asleep tonight knowing that he was sleeping in her bed. As she waited for the water to boil, her thoughts turned to his long limbs under the sheets — his freckled arms reaching out to pull her close while she curled into his chest. Claire had never particularly been one for physical touch, but even now, her fingers missed his touch, and it was as if her body was longing to be next to his.
Claire went into the bedroom quietly, seeing that Jamie was already in bed, his eyes closed, but she knew he wasn’t asleep. She found the hot water bottle exactly where he said it’d be, and returned to the kitchen to fill it with the hot water. With that in hand, as well as the cup of tea, she went to him.
“Delivery from Santa’s elf,” Claire whispered, and his eyes popped open, a grin on his lips. “This ought to warm you up.”
Jamie took the tea from her, his hands curling around the cup. The covers were tucked under the bed and Claire pulled them up to tuck the hot water bottle at his feet, making sure it didn’t burn him. She had to admit that it looked awfully cozy in there, and she wanted to hop in next to him.
“Ye ken tis no’ that late,” Jamie said as he sipped. “There’s a TV in here as well, we could put on a Christmas movie?”
“You mean… get into the bed with you?”
He blinked, owl-like up at her. “Aye, yer no’ goin’ to sit on the floor while I have the whole bed to myself, Sassenach,” he gave a loud pat to the spot next to him. “We’re hardly strangers, since ye saved my life, ye ken.”
She probably should have hesitated far longer than she did, but with a shrug, Claire walked around to the other side and climbed in, still quite far away from him as it was a rather large bed. The remote was on her side, and she pressed the power button, bringing It’s a Wonderful Life to the screen.
“Och, this is one of my favorites,” Jamie grinned and wiggled deeper under the covers. Claire laughed at that, and he glanced over at her with a matching smirk. “I love the old black and white ones, don’t ye?”
“Oh yes,” Claire sighed happily, and pulled up the covers. “There’s something so nostalgic about them.”
Geillis would be happy to know that Claire did, in fact, have a man in her bed. It wasn’t exactly what she had in mind, but Geillis didn’t need to know all the details.
The two of them laughed at the funny parts, and were silent as George Bailey went along with Clarence the angel. The heat from the fireplace was comforting, and the bed was soft beneath her tired body. Claire’s eyes were fluttering shut, and while her brain knew she shouldn’t fall asleep next to him, the rest of her body didn’t seem to respond. Sleep washed over her, and she heard the distant ringing of bells as she fell into a deep sleep.
When she woke a little while later, she was surprised to find it was still dark outside. She must have drifted off for only a few hours. Claire was also surprised to feel a heavy weight — Jamie’s arm — wrapped around her stomach. As Claire’s senses came back to her, she realized that her body was curved with his, and his face was nuzzled into her neck.
There was no way she could get out of his embrace without waking him, and she knew he needed to sleep. No wonder she’d woken up, his body was radiating heat now and she was now covered in a thin layer of sweat. His breathing was deep and heavy, his arm tight around her, so she went limp and tried to relax herself into going back to sleep.
But her senses were on high alert now. Her imagination running wild as she felt with her mind his body against hers. With her knees bent, he had his legs pressed against hers. They were spooning. She was the little spoon of course. It was such an intimate position to be in with someone she’d only just met that day. Although, Claire had never slept like this with Frank. He was always on the other side of the bed, with only a kiss on the cheek before he fell fast asleep.
Perhaps, Claire had been craving someone’s touch all her life, and had never found it. Jamie lightly snored and the vibration ran throughout her body. Shifting to get more comfortable, Claire froze and gasped.
Her bottom was pressed snugly against his crotch, and there was no mistaking the hardness she now felt. Claire couldn’t suppress the laughter nor the arousal she felt. Any warm-blooded male would surely get turned on with a woman’s arse wedged between his thighs.
If it was anyone but Jamie, she would have been disgusted and jumped out of the bed. But she felt safe here in his arms, and the idea that she could turn him on even while he slept was erotic.
With that part of his anatomy reminding her just what she wanted to do to him, she gave up on sleep, and simply enjoyed being in his arms, as this would most likely not be a repeat occurrence.
“Sassenach,” he mumbled sleepily, startling her. Her body was now tight as a bowstring, waiting for him to realize what position they were in.
“Oh,” his arm around her stomach slipped away, allowing her to turn and face him.
“You know what they say about body heat,” she grinned, her face barely visible in the dim glow of the dying fire. “It’s the best way to get warm. Don’t worry about it, Jamie.”
“I dinna want ye to think I was takin’ advantage of ye,” he rubbed his hand over his eyes to better see her. “I must have drifted over to ye in my sleep w’out knowin’ it.”
“Jamie,” Claire laughed softly. “We’re still on your side of the bed. If anyone drifted, it was me.”
“I do feel much warmer now,” Jamie observed as he stretched his legs. “I can go out to the sofa now so ye can sleep.”
He made to move, flipping the covers back, and without thinking, Claire grabbed his arm to pull him back.
“I want you to stay,” she whispered, as her heart hammered in her chest.
Answering her plea, Jamie fell back into the bed and turned on his side to face her. He moved his hand to settle on her waist, waiting to see if it was okay. With a slight nod from her, Jamie pulled her closer until she fit against his chest. She looked up at him, meeting his blue eyes only inches from hers. There was no going back now.
“I dinna have any mistletoe,” Jamie said softly, his arms cradling her body.
“What?” Claire laughed, not expecting him to say that.
“Mistletoe,” he said again. “The wee green stuff ye hang over yer head at Christmas so ye can kiss someone.”
Claire buried her head against his chest, laughing. “I think we can manage without the mistletoe, don’t you think?”
“Aye,” one hand came to brush back the curls from her face. Their bodies were pressed so close that kissing didn’t even seem like an intimate idea.
They found each other in the dark. Jamie cupped her cheek reverently as he pressed his lips to hers. His jaw and neck were covered with scruff that itched pleasantly against her skin, and Claire wanted to purr like a kitten as he kissed her deeper.
Guiding her hands into his curly locks, she held on tight as she parted his lips with her tongue. The heat seeped from his body to hers, but a shiver went over her body as his hand snaked down to grip her arse, squeezing lightly.
“Mmmm,” she moaned, pressing her hips against his.
Claire was not entirely certain this wasn’t just a dream, and that she would wake up alone in bed. But for the moment, Jamie felt very real and his flesh under her hands seemed to yield to her touch.
They broke apart, only so that they could push the covers out of the way before coming back together. Jamie pulled Claire on top of him, his hands finding her hips and anchoring her against him. Sadly, she found out that he had not been naked the entire evening as her fingers skimmed the edge of his boxer briefs.
Her hips moved seductively, rolling against his groin. He was hard again, and with every snap of her hips a small sound left Jamie’s throat. His hands moved from her hips to her arse to push her closer. The kiss was so deep that she could hardly breathe.
“God, Sassenach,” Jamie sighed. “I’ve never wanted anyone so badly in all my life!”
Claire peppered kisses over his neck and chest, not wanting to part with the low lusty sounds he was making.
“Jesus, lass,” he muttered between breaths as he realized what she was doing. Claire shimmied down his body, leaving a trail of kisses in her wake. “Ye dinna have to…”
Looking up at him through long thick lashes, she smirked. “I appreciate the choice, but I’m willing, that is if you are?”
He cocked a brow at her, almost as a challenge. “As long as I can return the favor,” he said smugly.
Heat flashed over her body as he stared at her. She had to tear her gaze away from him to settle to the task before her. His body was sculpted to perfection. She ran her fingers over the grooves of his abs, swirling around the wiry hairs at his belly button. His breath hitched as her hands rested on the tops of his boxers.
Claire held his gaze as she pulled them slowly down his legs. His cock sprang free as the material was removed. Her belly quivered at the sight of his impressive thick length jutting upwards towards his stomach. Reflexively, Jamie’s legs widened and she slid down further to fit herself between them.
“Sassenach,” Jamie said with a hoarse voice. “I dinna feel that ‘tis fair that I’m the one naked and yer still covered up.”
“Oh,” Claire glanced down at herself. “I didn’t even realize.” She reached for the hem of her sweater, but two hands stopped her. Jamie pulled her to straddle him again. Now his hands crept up her sweater, his skin warm on her flesh. His fingers tickled her stomach before finally pulling up the material and tossing it over the side. She saw his tongue snake out and wet his lips as he looked at her breasts, covered only now by her black bra. With his skilled fingers, he unhooked it in seconds, tossing it to join the pile of growing clothes.
“May I?” His hands drummed a tattoo against her hips as he held her body over his.
“Yes, please,” Claire blushed and threaded one hand through his hair, following his movements as he leaned down and took one of her pink nipples into his mouth. His pull was insistent, and he began to suck, his cheeks hollowing. Claire’s head fell back as he pressed her against his mouth, sucking harder. A deep cry left her throat as he flicked his tongue back and forth over the sensitive nub.
“Aye, that’s it, Sassenach,” Jamie kissed the underside of her breast. “Make those wee noises for me!”
His mouth moved to the other breast, repeating the same process. His tongue was warm and he swirled the tip around her nipple, and they puffed up, now engorged and swollen from his lips. Before she could move back down his body, Jamie’s hands found her tights and began to pull them off as well as her panties.
“I wish I could see ye in the light,” Jamie said quietly as she pulled the material off her foot, letting it fall to the floor.
“No you don’t,” Claire snorted unflatteringly. “This is enough light so you don’t see all my bumps and squiggles.”
“Bumps and squiggles,” Jamie laughed adorably and pressed his lips against her stomach. “Claire, yer so beautiful. I feel I dinna deserve to be here wi’ ye, holdin’ ye in my arms.”
“You’re one to talk,” Claire ran her finger lightly down the slope of his straight nose. “It’s like making love to a god.”
“Tcha!” Jamie rubbed his hands slowly up and down her sides. She began to rock her hips against him, feeling his length grow between her thighs.
“I’ve never felt like this, Jamie,” Claire admitted. “With anyone.”
He picked up her hand and entwined their fingers, bringing their joint hands to rest over his heart. “Neither have I, Sassenach. I think ye are my Christmas wish come true.”
At that, she shyly buried her head against his neck, her body still gently rocking against his, the friction building. Her arms wrapped around his neck, as his arms settled on her hips. Claire gasped as the tip of his cock brushed against her clit.
She felt his hand move between their bodies as he took hold of himself. Jamie pumped his cock once before sliding it along her wet center. Claire shivered, biting down gently on the padded flesh of his shoulder. He was teasing her entrance with his cock, and just the tip entered her and she clutched his hair tightly.
Her body was shaking with the need to sink down on him, and she pulled back to look into his eyes. One hand came to rest on her lower back, his other still between their bodies. From just the tip, she knew that he was huge, and would fill her completely. Her stomach tightened in anticipation, and she couldn’t help but roll her hips, hearing the sound of the wetness their bodies made.
“I must take ye, Claire,” Jamie said as his grip tightened on her. “I must or I’ll die!”
Claire felt the same, as her heart pounded fast and hard in her chest. She wanted to explode, and as she sank down on his cock, she thought she just might. Their moans mingled together in the air as he filled her.
“Christ,” he whispered. The hand that had been holding his cock found her hand and he gripped it tightly as she began to rock her hips. Claire had never felt so close to someone, not just physically but emotionally. No one had ever looked her in the eyes as they bared their soul with her. There was nothing left unsaid as they gave over to one another.
Claire kept up the slow and steady rhythm of her hips, and overcome with emotions, she pressed her face into his neck, feeling tears spring to her eyes. Jamie held her close, his other hand rubbing slowly up and down her back. He thrust upwards, hitting a spot so deep inside of her, that Claire didn’t know such pleasure existed.
“Oh God,” she panted.
“Oh Claire,” Jamie breathed heavily.
She was close, and she began to grind down faster and harder, feeling his body begin to tremble. Quickly, she pulled back so that she could watch him fall apart. His length throbbed inside of her, and his mouth opened and closed, as the words failed to come out.
With a sharp snap of her hips, Claire felt her own orgasm coming, as she clenched around his cock. Jamie’s hands squeezed her hips, helping her ride him. His eyes flicked back and forth from her bouncing breasts to her face as she came.
Jamie cried out, “Claire!” before spilling inside of her, his body spasming. Tingles shot down her spine, and she held onto him for dear life. Carefully, Claire adjusted her position so she could wrap her legs around his waist and she clung to him, almost like a monkey.
His hands were soothing on her back, lightly stroking. He stayed rooted inside of her, reluctant to leave her body.
“I didn’t know it could be like that,” Claire said softly against his chest.
“I didna either,” Jamie echoed. “Perhaps it depends on who yer wi’.”
Claire chuckled, but sighed happily at this. Whatever it was between them… it wasn’t usual.
After time passed and they both were sated, Jamie shifted and then moved Claire to lay in his arms, her head comfortably against his chest as she looked up at him.
“When I first met ye, all those hours ago,” he snorted. “I felt a… a sort of draw to ye, Sassenach. Like I just had to be close to ye. To hear yer voice, touch yer skin. I thought I’d do anythin’ to be near to ye.”
“Really?” Claire ran her fingers lightly over his stubbled chin.
“Aye,” he smiled. “Twas the strangest thing. While I was out chopping the wood, I found myself thinking about ye, and I’d known ye all of five minutes!”
“I felt the same,” Claire smiled, pleased that she hadn’t been crazy. “I was waiting for you to come back with the wood. I even changed my clothes,” she laughed quietly. “When you didn’t come back, I grew impatient and that’s when I decided to look for you. I just knew I had to see you again.”
“I dinna wish my niece any ill tidings,” Jamie stroked her cheek. “But I’m verra glad that she got sick after lunch and I came back here. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here wi’ ye in my arms. Ye see, Claire, and this may sound hasty, but I talk to you as I talk to my own soul," he said, turning her face to him. He reached down and cupped her cheek, fingers light on her temple.
"And, Sassenach," he whispered, "your face is my heart.”
Claire closed her eyes as he kissed her, feeling like something opened up inside of her at his words.
“I certainly didn’t expect this,” she said. “I thought I would never be able to recover after my divorce. That my heart was used and not able to be loved again. But, with you, Jamie… I feel things I’ve never felt. A closeness to you, as if I could tell you anything and nothing would surprise or scare you.”
He pressed their lips together once again. “I feel as if our souls have belonged to each other far longer than our bodies have.”
“I don’t think I can part from you, Jamie,” Claire said sleepily, yawning.
“Shhh,” Jamie kissed her forehead and slid further into bed, pulling the covers around her. “Sleep, a nighean donn. When ye wake, I’ll be here.”
“Mmmm,” Claire nuzzled against him, and fell asleep to him muttering something in a language she recognized as Gaelic.
++++++
When Claire opened her eyes, she did wake in his arms. The sun filled the room, and she wasn’t shocked to see that the snow still fell outside. The fire had gone out long ago, but Jamie’s body heat kept her warm. In her sleep, she had shifted to lie curled against his body, and she placed a soft kiss to his neck, rousing him.
“Good morning, sleepy head,” she kissed his jaw.
“Yer insatiable,” Jamie groaned, all while keeping his eyes shut. His hands were locked around her back, and they slid down to rest over her arse.
“The same could be said about you,” she poked him playfully in the chest.
Before the morning could unfold like the previous night, however, a loud gurgle came from Claire’s stomach, making Jamie’s eyes pop open.
“I guess all that activity made me hungry,” she nipped at his bottom lip.
Jamie laughed and then rolled her body on top of his. “First we shall eat, and then I plan to devour ye,” he nibbled on her ear lobe, making her squirm.
Another loud gurgle sounded in the room and this time from Jamie.
A cold breeze drifted across her naked body as Jamie pushed off the covers. She rolled off his body and stood up, grabbing the plaid to wrap around her. Jamie opted for his boxers, tugging them on as he yawned.
They ventured out into the kitchen, sitting on two stools. Claire placed a bowl in front of Jamie and poured cereal into it.
“Tell me when to stop,” Claire said as she poured the milk.
“That’s good,” he smiled. “Breakfast of champions.”
“If I knew I would have company, I’d have bought proper breakfast,” Claire said as she sat down at the counter next to him.
“I dinna think this will be our last breakfast together,” Jamie’s foot nudged hers, making her grin sheepishly.
“No, I dare say it won’t.”
They ate quickly, impatient to return to each other’s arms. Food was necessary to continue making love, but Claire was shoveling the cereal down her throat as fast as she could, with only one strange look from Jamie.
“Dinna choke, Sassenach,” Jamie laughed as Claire wiped the milk from her lips. “I canna make love to ye if yer dead.”
“Sorry,” she blushed.
Jamie pushed his bowl aside, and grabbed her hand. “Dinna apologize, ’tis charming for some reason. But now that yer belly is full, I can have my way wi’ ye!”
He stood up, spinning her on the stool until she faced him. Jamie’s arms wrapped around her stomach and he lifted her into the air, plaid and all. She landed over his shoulder, and her bum was given a nice firm pat, making her giggle.
“You better not drop me, Fraser!”
“Not a chance,” he chuckled, bouncing his knees as if he was dropping her. Claire shrieked, but laughed, letting her arms dangle over his back. She slid her hands over his arse, giving it a firm squeeze.
“Enough of that,” he smirked, walking into the bathroom where he set her on her feet. His hands reached for the plaid around her shoulders and pushed it off of her. Claire returned the favor by removing his boxers, enjoying the sight of his erect cock on her way back up to kiss him.
“Just what are we doing in here?” She hooked both arms around his neck.
“I’ve fed ye,” Jamie kissed her nose, “and now I need to wash ye.”
“Do I stink?” Claire blushed, self conscious as she put her arms down.
“No,” he shook his head. “But ever since I set eyes on that curly wig of yers, I’ve wanted to get my hands into it. If that doesna sound too weird,” he bit his bottom lip.
“Oh,” she said. The shower was certainly big enough for the two of them, and she moved out of his grasp to turn on the hot water, watching as the room began to steam up.
Claire grabbed his fingers, pulling him into the shower after her. They stood under the water, letting it drench them. Once her hair was wet, Jamie grabbed the shampoo and drizzled a fair amount into the palms of his hands, lathering until suds formed.
Spinning until she faced the shower wall, Claire sighed as his hands massaged her scalp. He had large strong fingers — fingers that had explored her body the night before. Fingers that made Claire moan as she imagined them inside of her.
“Feel good?”
“Hmmm?”
Jamie laughed, still rubbing the shampoo into her hair. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Feeling like she was floating, Claire allowed Jamie to move her under the water to rinse out the shampoo. He then pushed her back against the wall, his mouth landing on her neck. The water poured down his back, cascading down his skin.
Claire’s eyes sprang open from her dreamy state as she felt his lips nibble on her breast briefly before moving south.
“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” Claire muttered as she looked down to find Jamie on his knees looking up at her. His hands settled on her waist, making sure that she didn’t fall down on top of him.
“I told ye I would devour ye, Sassenach,” he growled before licking slowly up her center. Claire’s legs buckled, but his hands squeezed her hips. The tip of his tongue flicked out against her clit before two of his fingers spread her lips. His tongue darted inside of her, and Claire’s head fell back against the wall.
Her hands found his head, holding on tight to his hair as he began to bop his head. Like a kitten lapping at milk, Jamie began to lick and suck her folds.
“Oh God,” Claire sighed. Jamie lifted her right leg to rest over her shoulder and he adjusted the angle, now able to insert a finger inside of her. Her thighs involuntarily clenched around his head. Jamie chuckled against her skin, sending shivers over her body.
Glancing down, she could see that his cock was hard and throbbing. His other hand left her waist to take hold of himself, the thumb moving slowly up and down his cock. Watching his head move between her thighs as well as his hand pump himself made Claire’s orgasm come quickly, her body trembling under the water.
Jamie lapped up her juices, his mouth greedy for her taste. Peppering her thighs with kisses, he stood up, watching as she swayed slowly, her body still given over to pleasure.
“I could do that all day,” Jamie kissed her gently and she tasted herself on his lips.
“And I want you to,” Claire kissed him harder. “But not before I return the favor.”
Before he could say anything, she was already sliding down onto her knees. His cock was still hard, resting against his stomach. Finally able to see all of him in the light, Claire gasped. He was bloody huge and she was impressed that he managed to fit inside her so snugly the night before.
“Like what ye see, then?” He was watching her, grinning at her fascination with his member.
“I’m just trying to work out if you really are a god,” Claire said and kissed the tip of his cock, watching his thighs clench.
“Jesus,” Jamie grunted, placing one hand against the wall to steady himself. “Ye sure ken how to flatter a man.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Claire smirked, running one finger down his cock. Her thumb rubbed slowly over the head, pulling back the foreskin. Moisture dripped down and she moved her lips around the tip, tasting him.
Jamie’s buttocks clenched, and moans left his lips as Claire took more of him in. Her fingers were skating lightly down the backs of his thighs. She enjoyed the shivers that ran down his body at her touch. With one hand she cupped his heavy balls, squeezing them firmly as her other hand pumped his cock.
Her tongue snaked out, flicking quickly over the head. Jamie’s eyes were shut, but they opened, dark blue and he watched her take him in her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed, and as he hit the back of her throat, she gagged, but was too eager to please him to stop. Claire bopped her head, moaning as his hand found her hair, not pushing or forcing her, but just moving with her motions.
She felt his balls draw up close to his body, and looked up, seeing how he was breathing quickly. Claire pulled him out of her mouth, now only sucking on the tip of his cock. His head bent down to watch her again, and as she flattened her tongue against his shaft, he came in long hard spasms. She milked him, her eyes focused on his face as he spilled into her hand and she licked the head clean.
Claire stood up, her body gliding along his. She placed her hands under the water, washing his seed off.
“I could do that all day,” she smirked, returning his sentiment from moments before.
“I guess if ye bed a vixen,” Jamie leaned his forehead against hers. “Ye have to expect to get bit.”
Claire laughed as he kissed her. They finished showering with wandering hands. They simply couldn’t get enough of each other.
Not bothering with clothes, Jamie and Claire dried off and stumbled towards the living room. Claire laid down near the fireplace as Jamie lit it. The twinkling lights shined above them. Jamie rolled against her as he laid next to her.
“How much longer is yer stay?” He asked, sighing contentedly against her neck, his breath warm.
“Three days,” Claire said, her fingers brushing through his curls at the nape of his neck.
“Hmm, three days. Would ye really leave before New Year’s Eve?” Jamie smirked.
“Only if I had a good reason not to leave,” Claire looked at him.
“Do ye?”
Did she? Jamie was certainly not someone she expected to fall for, but she had. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since they met, but already her heart belonged to him. This Christmas would be one she would remember forever, always thinking back to the day she met the love of her life.
“Yes,” she kissed him. “I do. Is that a date?”
“Aye,” Jamie grinned. “I can show ye what a proper Hogmanay is like, Sassenach!”
“I thought this would be a blue Christmas, but the only thing that was blue was your frostbitten skin,” Claire laughed.
“And my balls,” he added, laughing.
“And those,” Claire snickered. “I’m glad you fell down in the snow.”
“So am I,” Jamie rolled his body on top of hers. “What were those lyrics again… I’ll have a blue Christmas without you. I’ll be so blue just thinkin’ about you…”
There on Fraser’s Ridge, two strangers met, and fell in love on Christmas Day. They laughed as they never had before, loved with a passion they didn’t know existed, and had a very very merry Christmas.
Five days later, after spending day and night in each other’s arms and getting to know everything there was to know about the other, Claire packed up her things and said goodbye to Fraser’s Ridge.
She wasn’t headed home just yet, however, as Jamie was eager to take her to his childhood home, Lallybroch, for a Hogmanay celebration.
“Is your sister going to be very shocked at my being there?” Claire asked as they drove. She’d called Geillis a couple of days ago to ask if she could keep watching Ados. Of course, Geillis had given her hundred questions to answer, but Claire told her she’d give her all the juicy details when she got back to Oxford in a few days.
“Probably,” Jamie chuckled, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on Claire’s thigh. “I havena brought a lass home, so she’ll want to interrogate me. The good thing,” he smiled over at her, “is that we’ll be arriving shortly before the rest of the guests do, so she willna have time to do that!”
“Ahhh,” Claire laughed. “All part of your master plan, I see. So that’s why we didn’t arrive there yesterday or the day before.”
Jamie squeezed her leg. “Tis no’ that I dinna want her to meet ye, but I still want to keep ye all to myself. Plus, I dinna want to subject ye to a million questions that she’ll ask ye. There’s no need to rush this.”
“My lad,” Claire sighed happily. “I think it’s a bit late for that.”
Jamie smiled in agreement, and they drove on. Lallybroch wasn’t too far away, and within the hour, they were pulling up to the large stone estate. Jamie was right, as there were other cars pulling up at the same time as them.
“This place is not at all what I imagined,” Claire said in awe as Jamie turned off the car.
“Tis quite charming,” Jamie smiled. “Lallybroch means lazy tower, ye ken? I suppose it does lean a bit.”
Claire tilted her head to the side, admiring the house. She left her bag in his car, they would come out later to get that to stay the night in Jamie’s old room. Sliding his fingers through hers, Jamie pulled her close and together they walked up to the house.
People were milling about inside, and the atmosphere was electric with the air of celebration. The room smelled of meats and pies and Claire’s stomach growled with the need to be filled.
“Jamie!” Came a loud voice from their left. A short, raven haired woman came running towards them and Jamie let go of Claire’s hand to embrace her. “Ye finally made it ye numptie.”
“Aye, sorry we’re late,” Jamie said, giving his sister a kiss on the cheek.
“We?” Jenny craned her neck to look behind Jamie at Claire. Her eyes went wide, and her brows shot up to her forehead. “Hello, there.”
“Janet,” Jamie eyed his sister as he wrapped an arm protectively around Claire’s waist. “This is Claire Beauchamp.”
Claire noted how he didn’t explain where or when they’d met, and she though it best to keep it that way for now. She offered Jenny her hand, and waited awkwardly before his sister wrapped her arms lovingly around Claire.
“I’ll yell at ye later for no’ tellin’ me ye were bringin’ a lass,” Jenny said to Jamie as she hugged Claire. “But I’m happy that ye did. ’Tis nice to meet ye Claire. Sadly I dinna have much time to talk wi’ ye, but we’ll have plenty of time for that tomorrow. Ye are stayin’ the night?” She directed this question at Jamie who nodded.
“Good,” Jenny squeezed Claire’s hand. “Ian is around here somewhere with the bairns. He’ll love to see ye.”
“Oh aye,” Jamie took Claire’s hand again, pulling her out of Jenny’s grasp. Jenny smirked at her brother before leaving them alone, off to fulfill her hostess duties.
“Well, that went better than expected,” Jamie sighed. “Ye must give a good first impression, Sassenach.”
“I’ve never been told I give a bad one,” Claire tapped his nose. “Now that that is out of the way, can we please get something to eat?”
“Aye,” Jamie grinned. “And to drink!”
They found the table of food easily, and filled their plates high with mountains of savories and sweets. While Claire carried their bounty, Jamie grabbed two full glasses of cider and they made their way outside into the chilly air to get away from the noise.
The sound of laughter and music could still be heard outside as they sat down on a wooden bench.
“This is lovely, Jamie,” Claire took a bite of a mince pie. “Thank you for bringing me.”
“I’m glad ye are enjoyin’ it,” Jamie grinned over his cup. “It’ll get rowdy as the night wages on. Swords dances and the like.”
“Sword dances?” Claire questioned.
“Aye,” gulped. “Ye place two swords crossed over the other, and ye dance atop them. Highlanders used to do these types of dances for celebration or before a battle to predict the outcome. It’s a tradition now.”
“Will you be partaking in these sword dances?”
Jamie’s cheeks turned bright red. “I do every year,” he took a bite of haggis. “But this year I’ll have ye to cheer me on.”
They kept eating until their stomachs were full, and while Claire wanted more of the delicious food, she felt ready to pop.
The music was drawing them back inside, but Claire took Jamie’s hand, rubbing her fingers lightly over his, not wanting to leave their peaceful cocoon.
“I didn’t expect to feel this way about someone I met only a week ago,” Claire said softly. “I came to Scotland to get away from my old life, and to make myself forget the pain.”
Jamie was silent, but his eyes were focused on her as she spoke.
“I came to escape my old life, but I found something new,” Claire grinned. “Something worth holding onto.”
One of his large hands came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing off a bit of snow on her skin. “Something worth holdin’ onto,” he repeated. “Yer worth getting frostbite for, Sassenach. Yer worth shiverin’ until I canna feel anythin’.”
Claire smiled, “I know that you live here, and I live back in England, but I hope this won’t be the end.”
“Nah,” he leaned in close, resting his forehead against hers. “’Tis no’ the end, Claire. I reckon… it’s just the beginning.”
Snow began to fall harder, forcing them to move inside. They danced hand in hand, sang loudly and rang in the new year with a kiss, sealing their fate forever.
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radramblog · 3 years
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Elder Dragon Highlander
 Commander is a format of Magic the Gathering that has become almost completely detached from its original premise. Much of what the format is is built upon the concept of Elder Dragon Highlander- 21 Commander damage is lethal because that’s 3 hits from an Elder Dragon, the slow grindy format built to accommodate the original 5’s heavy mana investment and limited effects.
But that was a long time ago, and the designers at WoTC have opted to attach the moniker of Elder Dragon to a number of additional cards. 21 total cards hold the name, 4 cycles of 5 apiece with one straggler at the back.
What is considered “elder” is largely to do with lore, I think, but due to its association with such iconic cards, it’s interesting to see how and what the label is attached to.
I’ll, uh….do cube something next week? I dunno. But this is the Elder Dragons.
 The original 5
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The first elder dragon cycle is kind of iconic of Magic in general. Released in Legends, they were the first tricoloured cards in the entire game, were I believe the biggest and most expensive cards of the time, and all represented characters from the comics that I think just about everyone forgets existed.
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They do not even remotely resemble modern design. Clunky is one thing, but the quintuplets are almost aberrant to what would be considered attractive Magic cards. A monstrous investment of mana in multiple colours that has a continuous upkeep of more mana, all for an arguably understatted flying creature with one extra ability. Chromium gets Rampage, a keyword that started in Legends, ended in Mirage, and doesn’t have reminder text despite being arguably confusing. Palladia-Mors gets Trample, making it arguably one of the best ones. Vaevictis Asmadi gets Firebreathing in all 3 of its colours, in case 8+3+3+3… wasn’t enough mana-shaped eggs in one basket for you. Arcades gets a bonus ability in toughness-breathing, to make up for it’s deliberately mediocre ability- the “oh cool I can use this with vigilance” eureka/fun brain moment quashed by its pointless limitation.
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And then, of course, there’s Nicol Bolas. Somehow one of the game’s most iconic characters, in an art rendition that makes a powerful villain look like a gentle draconic geriatric. (EDITORS NOTE: still Rad here but I just now noticed this mf has a fucking dragon nipple, wtf?) I suppose Bolas becoming so well known was inevitable, if only because it was the only one of the most popular cycles with an actually cool and powerful ability. There are currently 210 more Bolas decks than any other member of this cycle, and that difference also happens to be twice what the other four have combined.
Bolas is arguably the only one that stood the test of time, the only one to ever show up independently of the other 4. I suppose we’ll see if any of the rest do the same, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.
(Elder) Dragons of Tarkir
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The titular Dragons of Tarkir’s third set (Dragons of Tarkir) were a set I was excited to see as the cards were being spoiled. The lore of the plane was interesting, with Magic stepping into a plot with time travel and finally showing us what Ugin looked like after almost 10 years of curiosity. The dragons that would become the Clan leaders had appeared previously in Fate Reforged, and the editions that we’d see as Elders- 10,000 years older and in some cases even wiser- presented a powerful and exciting cycle. Unlike with the Legends dragons, I’m pretty sure all of these saw play somewhere.
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Ironically, though, I’m pretty sure these were deliberately tuned for Standard rather than the format named after their typeline. Even outside of Kolaghan’s line of text that….doesn’t do a whole lot in the format, Ojutai and Silumgar were pretty obviously built to be the finishers in the Esper Dragons deck that ran them, Atarka a clear top-end for Gruul Monsters (and, eventually, Eldrazi Ramp), and Dromoka a potential menace in Dromoka’s Command-backed Midrange lists. These cards are all quite powerful, but they’re built for a different kind of game.
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That’s I suppose the biggest issue with the Dragons of Dragons of Tarkir, they were underwhelming. The set as a whole was fairly middling, though I did truly enjoy the draft format. I’m pretty sure the most played card in the set is fucking Collected Company, one I kind of despise, followed with Kolaghan’s Command which is just a traumatic experience for me. And while 3 of these 5 are seeing more play than their past counterparts, including Dragonlord Ojutai being literally 10 times more commonly seen than Soul of Winter, that difference is largely a matter of power (or lack thereof), the Mythic Dragonlords being obviously stronger than their Rare originals. The rare ones are arguably more fun, though, and that’s what matters to me.
 Legends…2! (aka core set 2019)
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Part of the theme of Core Set 2019 was the story (read: retcon so the ending of War of the Spark makes more sense) of Bolas and Ugin in their youth, which meant that we got to get updated, modern designs of the original Elder Dragons (not Ugin tho lmao). And by Modern, I kind of mean postmodern, because we’re at the point where Commander cards start getting absurd All The Time.
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Each of the Elder Dragons of Core 2019 (copyright WoTC 2018) have the benefits of updated design practices with 24 extra years of experience, as well as not having to have a million words on them for silly reasons like extra mana sacrifice triggers. Even Palladia-Mors, probably the weakest of them (and still pretty threatening!), gets to have flavour text hinting at a potential return (which hasn’t happened yet).
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When you’re designing cards like these, though, it’s inevitable that some are going to be overshadowed by others. Baby Bolas, of course, was one of the flagship cards for the set, being a transforming Planeswalker with lots of abilities that wins the game in just the most classy way I’ve seen in a minute. And Arcades took a fun niche deck people liked and blew it wide open, making Defenders into one of the most disgusting Offensive decks in a minute.
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But then there’s Chromium, a fairly powerful Voltron/Control finisher but not one that leads you in any particular direction. Vaevictis does lead in fun directions, but would then be completely dwarfed by the absurdity that is Lord Windgrace the same year and Korvold the next one.
Outside of a few, this cycle feels like it got kind of lost in the shuffle, and I think that’s not really that much a reflection of the cards (except maybe Palladia, the Naya Problem rearing its ugly head again), and more the greater issue with Magic as a whole just shitting out cards constantly faster than most can catch up.
Welcome to Strixhaven School of Magecraft and Sideboardary
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Our final cycle is the new kids on the block, the Strixhaven dragons. I suppose one way to make the definitely not Hogwarts Houses (they’re colleges, Clearly) seem important is attach a giant Fuckoff Dragon next to them.
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A thing I like a lot about Strixhaven as a set is how it was introducing a new Thing for each of the enemy colour pairs to do- Golgari Lifegain, Boros Graveyard, Izzet Spells But Big Ones Instead Also Treasures?. The set came with loads and loads of cards supporting each of these themes, and having Commander 2021 alongside it and associated with it means they’re well supported by that as well. But, and this is the important part, the Elder Dragons aren’t as overshadowed because they too are doing something different, even if its rather slight in some cases, on their own- but each supporting or being supported by the Dragon in question.
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Beledros is a Big Mana Golgari commander (normally seen in Mono-Green or Gruul) whose huge life cost is assisted by the Lifegain cards Witherbloom got. Galazeth helps ramp into the giant spells associated with Prismari while also making the alternate discard into treasure option some of those spells have a lot better. Tanazir doubles the power of Quandrix’s Fractal tokens, and makes them even more huge when attacking due to then natively being 0/0s. And I don’t really know what the idea in Silverquill is other than “Politics”, but Shadrix looks fucking cool and probably plays really nicely. It’s just a really fucking solid cycle.
It’s not really possible to tell how these 5 are going to play out- Strixhaven is still the latest Standard Set to release at time of writing. But I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the most successful Elder Dragon cycle as a whole assuming you’re looking at, like, mean Decks.
And then there’s The Other One
As part of Modern Horizons 2, cards for a set of characters from alllll the way back from those Legends stories were created- a new Dakkon, a Geyadrone Dihada, and the Elder Dragon that showed up in their story- Piru.
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Piru is, obviously, a reference to the original cycle of Elder Dragons, but in a Wedge colour rather than a Shard. And with an extra keyword, which is something I missed, because it makes all the difference. I had written this card off, until I realised that Lifelink triggered from the death trigger, and when this thing dies it isn’t too hard to gain dozens of life points. That’s a lot and combined with clearing the board it’s not too hard to get virtually unkillable. I love leaning into the downside from the original dragons by adding a powerful death trigger like this.
Piru released very recently, and already has 112 decks to her name. I wouldn’t be surprised if that plateaus, but it’s still rather promising. 8 mana is a lot in non-green colours, but I like Piru, and I’d be happy to see her see lots and lots of play going forward.
While 2021 has so far had more Elder Dragons than any other year, they’ve been a very promising cadre with a lot of interesting ideas going on. With that said, I’m not sure that I want the trend to continue, because the more they make (the more Elders in general, really), the less special they get. But for now at least, it looks like we’re finally getting to a good place for Elder Dragons. Only took us 27 years.
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imnotwolverine · 4 years
Text
Field of dreams
Henry Cavill x OC Lisa - multi-chapter fic
Author’s note: The Scottish highlands, some bear tears and a whole lot of (outdoor) loving. 
Word count: 4.432
Disclaimer: fluff and smut
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This is part 19 of the Tea for Two series. 
Find the Masterlist here. 
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< Go back to part 18
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Tall wet grass blades licked my calves as my rain boots plowed through dewy fields, the tiny water drops sparkling in the light of a watery sun as it slowly rose over the steep Scottish hills.
It was about 7 am and the world around us was slowly waking up, its wild scenery conjuring itself up from the stormy dark of the night before. It had rained all night and the animals were glad to be out and about again. Birds chirped their morning song, supple wings carrying them with grace through the rain heavy skies, while a few big Scottish highlanders mooed at me and Kal.
Henry had left for an early start at work - I don’t know how that man could be such an early bird -, so it was just the two of us as we slowly trodded to the set that lay a few miles north of the cottage we resided in.
After months of jet setting through the hustle and bustle of large cities, it was almost unsettling to not have a single person around for miles.
What if something happened? What if I got hurt?
I pushed the thought aside as I was greeted by Kal’s wet nose pressing into my hand, his big paws quickly zooming past me as he continued to pee on every rock and tree he could find.
I smiled, taking a deep breath.
Scotland was every bit as beautiful as the pictures I had seen in magazines. It was raw, wild and fantastically beautiful. Like a painting, the landscape oozed “magic”. Lush greenery, with speckles of rock, yellowish moss and the occasional abandoned ruin that once had been the homestead of some civilisation long gone. The wind licked at our hairs, pulling it wildly back and fro as little misty drops of water kissed our faces. A remainder of the previous down pour.
Even the smell was something out of this world. It lay almost thick in your lungs, so fresh and earthy, the wet grass mixing deliciously with the muddy earth and the warm wool vest that was snuggly wrapped around me. It almost smelled like…home.
Home, in my case, being a rural area in the Netherlands, its outstretched flat landscape housing more cows and sheep than humans. My whole youth I had spent cycling and walking through similar green fields. Be it to go to school. Or the small supermarket. Or friends. Always there was this vast landscape enveloping me, making me feel ever so small and insignificant. It had been humbling, for sure, and even to this day it reminded me to humble as a human being.
And sure enough it had not only been the land, but also my mom.
As my rubber rain boots slushed through the grass I could almost hear her voice again..her never ending rambling as we walked the dog at an eerily early hour of the day. A moment we both cherished dearly. She, because she could talk without being nagged by her annoying colleagues or my grumpy dad. I, because I enjoyed listening to her while I slowly woke up from my dream-laden sleep, my jaw cracking open in large, relaxing yawns.  
And just like Kal did, our border collie would zip through the tall grass, chasing down small animals and doing his business before quickly rushing back to greet us with a happily lolling tongue.
I could also remember the last time we walked together, before I moved out to “the big city”. Her words still regularly swam through my mind in a moment of quiet.
‘Never forget I love you. Never forget I’ll be here for you. And most importantly: never forget to be there for yourself. Know it is okay to find things frightening. But don’t let it hold you back. Embrace it. Study it. Question it. And you will find it isn’t quite so scary at all. It is just..new!’
I had cried that day, for the first time in years. I had been scared, even though I sure as hell didn’t want to stay at home forever. I did want to grow up. I did want to live a life of my own. I did want to discover the world. It was just that the first step was particularly hard.
Now, some ten-ish years later, here I was. In the Scottish highlands. Walking the dog of the man I loved more than I thought possible. And I was discovering a new bit of the world every day. I was living my own life.
Sure, I was still scared at times. But that was okay.
Being scared was okay..come to think of it.
Just a week ago we sure had a scary moment. Or should I say new and exciting? As the days progressed the experience of a false alarm pregnancy was slowly turning from a shock into a new sense of wonder. Would I ever be a mom? Would I ever have a child of my own? To talk with him or her while our feet trampled through tall wet grass, a dog skirting our sides? Was that really such a scary idea?
Perhaps not.
It was just new.
Yes. New.  
My eyes picked up the glistening of something. I peered into the distance and realised it were aluminium roofs. The set! My heart thumped in excitement as I felt a slow smile creep up my cheeks. Moving further up the hill I got a better view of the small encampment of trailers, tents and trucks that were scattered amidst some old ruins. Just another mile or so and we could start another day of “something new”. Something new not being human babies, but a new season of the Witcher.  
All day I hadn’t seen or spoken to Henry. Which was slightly frustrating, sure, but I could quickly put those feelings aside as work had started to pick up pace. More trucks arrived, schedules needed to be adjusted to fit weather forecasts and set pieces needed saving from the never ending flurry of rain showers. This was what I liked most. Hands-on, hard work.
Before long the day was drawing to an end. It was 6pm and the crew had just finished packing and securing everything in containers, the night shift starting soon.
Also, at long last, I had managed to get a hold on Henry, who was just getting out of a costume fitting, his tumble of dark curly hair slightly dishevelled as he walked up to the car.
‘Hi there handsome.’ I smirked, leaning against the back of the SUV, my feet sunken away in an inch of mud. He came up to me and Kal and smiled a quiet smile before placing a kiss on my lips and scratching Kal behind the ears, his other hand rummaging through his pockets to look for the car keys. Not being able to find them at once, he furrowed his brow, cursing under his breath. The pent up frustration of more then just hard-to-find car keys was tangible in the air.
‘You okay dear?’ I asked carefully, my hand moving out to stroke his arm, but instead tentatively hovering mid air. His whole body was screaming “I’m not okay”.
He groaned and shook his head. ‘Just a bit of a bad day.’ He swallowed, finally finding the car keys and sighing softly.
‘Here, give me that. I’ll drive. YOU sit back and relax.’
‘No, no. It’s fine. I can drive.’ He muttered, his body language telling me otherwise. He was in fact not even making an attempt to walk towards the driver’s seat, instead opting to just stand there, looking a bit forlorn.
‘Look at me.’ I commanded, finally moving my hesitating hand to his arm, offering him a gentle rub. He looked up at me. Our first eye contact of that day. And for the first time ..ever, I saw something I don’t think I had ever seen before in his eyes. Tears. Unspent, hot, burning, tears.
Oh..
I felt my heart sink.
‘Let’s get into the car.’ He finally croaked, moving to the passenger side of the car as he offered me the keys.
He didn’t even put up a fight, like he usually would when I offered to help him out. It was really bad then, huh?
I clicked the car open and Henry climbed in without a word, Kal quick to follow suit. I looked at them as the door was pulled closed, my mind not fully registering what was happening until I felt my feet instinctively carry me to the driver’s seat, the mud slushing below my well-put-to-use rain boots.
As soon as I plopped down on the soft leather seat, I could see him unravel. The usual big presence that was Henry Cavill now melting down to a slumping mess of chocolate brown curls and shaking shoulders, his large frame hanging heavily into his seatbelt as he curled his fingers through little bits of Kal’s fur. Grasping on like the dog was his very life buoy. His breath hiccuped as the waterworks opened up, salty tears burning like acid over his beautifully square jawline.
What should I do?
I hesitated a moment before moving my hand to his shoulder, rubbing slow, big circles over the tense muscles, opting to not speak for the moment as heavy sobs echoed through the car. He probably just needed a moment to cry. Release whatever he was holding in. And I was glad he didn’t hold back, his bone wrecking sobs now filling the air with a certain heaviness.
It all came pouring out.
We sat there for a few minutes, his hands now moving to his face, covering his teary cheeks as he let out a few more shivery breaths. I was glad he had parked at the far end of the parking lot this morning, this spot offering us some privacy so none of the other set members could see us while they got into their own cars.
I moved my hand up through his curls, massaging his scalp in slow kneading movements, my other hand moving to Kal’s fur, Kal now quietly pushing his head into Henry’s lap. I truly believed that dogs could sense what their humans are feeling. And needing.
At this moment, Henry just needed us with him.
‘I’m sorry about that.’ Henry finally muttered, his voice slurred with emotion.
‘Don’t be.’ I said, my hand still moving slowly through his hair, the thick hair soft below my finger tips.
‘I just…’ Another sob came over him, his shoulders sinking down as he bent forward to rest on his elbows.
I moved my hand down to his back, rubbing more large circles over the warm plane of muscles that sat below his leather jacket and auburn woolen sweater. He shook his head slowly, his face contorted in sorrow, half hidden behind his large hands. My heart cried for him, my lips pulled into a tight line as I saw the love of my life torn to pieces by something unknown.
Had something bad happened? Did someone hurt him? Did someone die?
Slowly his sobs calmed again, his face remaining hidden behind his hands as he took a few deep breaths.
‘I’m here for you.’ I said gently.
‘I know.’ He said feebly, finally looking back up at me through tear drained hands. ‘Let’s go home.’ He pleaded softly. I nodded and revved the engine, the vehicle gently rolling back through the thick mud as I clicked on my seatbelt.
The road was zig zagging through the lush green hills, giving me a decent excuse to drive nice and slow, the car now quiet as Henry and Kal both stared out of the window. My eye moved from my two sweet men, to a lake that lay just behind one of the slopes. 
Without much of a second thought I decided to take the next exit from the main road, a slightly more bumpy country road taking us to a small parking lot that was placed just behind the hill that hid the beautiful vista of the lake.  
Henry looked up, slightly confused, his sorrowful blue eyes looking at me with question. ‘Let’s get some air.’ I said, removing my seatbelt and swinging open my door. The sun was slowly starting to come down from its high perch, the greenery kissed by its sinking rays. I moved to the front of the car, stretching out languidly and waiting for a very hesitant Henry to also climb out of the car.
He didn’t say a word as he moved next to me. Kal was left in the car.
‘It’s just ten minutes to the house.’ He said, his voice still cracking a bit. I nodded and shrugged. ‘I know. And we’ll get back home, trust me. I just think you would like to see this.’ I smiled gently and stretched out an arm, enveloping his hand in mine and tugging him towards the small path that curved up the grassy hill.
We slowly paced up the hill, our feet sinking away every meter or so in the slippery mud, until we reached the top. Our eyes met with a most magical sight. 
In front of us lay the lake in all its desolate glory, the water reflecting the patchwork of colours that surrounded us. Baby blues, lush greens, bright pinks, various hues of yellow and brown, splashes of grey rock and the grey-ish blue sky up above.
I let another deep breath seep into my lungs as I smiled at the sight, softly squeezing Henry’s hand as I also heard his breath halt for a moment.
‘Wow.’ He said, his voice slightly more upbeat then before. I decided to not look at him, and instead released his hand so I could balance myself as I started walking down the slippery hill, moving closer towards the lake. Henry followed suit, his foot falls not far behind me.
‘I walked here this morning and thought you’d like to see it as well. It sure is true what they say..’ I turned around to look over my shoulder, seeing Henry struggle to keep his footing as he met my gaze. I smiled. ‘..it’s magical out here.’ His eyes remained locked on mine as a very small smile tugged at his lips, his ocean blues still blazing with emotions unsung. I turned back to continue my path, but was halted by Henry’s hand as it slipped around my upper arm.
I looked back up at him, his words already moving through the air.
‘My brother Charlie and his wife are expecting again.’
His words were uttered with a dry matter of factualness, but it was weird since this was the first thing he said to me after his outburst..Something told me there was some co-relation between the two.
I whisked up a kind smile and pushed the thought aside.
‘Congratulations. They must be overjoyed! That’s their..fourth kid then, right?’
His jaw clenched as a feeble smile appeared on his lips. ‘Yea.’
Our eyes remained trained on each other for another moment before he broke our gaze, looking back over my shoulder and taking in the beautiful vista.
‘I’m sorry for just now. Really. I don’t want to scare you..I just..’ He took in a deep breath as he closed the distance between us, his foot nearly slipping again in the mud. We both let out a little gasp, our small smiles now turning into large grins as our hands entangled to both find steady footing again. Henry chuckled softly as he settled for a steady spot, his hands moving up to cup my cheeks as his fingers brushed away a few strands of hair.
‘I just have a bit of a hard time with this news after that..thing..earlier this week.’ He looked down at our mud soaked feet, his thumbs drawing soft circles over my cool skin.
‘It’s been a lot on my mind as well.’ I agreed, moving my arms to encircle him, my head leaning against his chest while my eyes quietly peered over at the lake. ‘Pregnancy was just..not something I had ever really given much of a thought and the possibility of a slip kind of took me by surprise.’
I felt him move his head, his nose nuzzling my hair before planting a gentle kiss there. ‘I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I was just..so…’ He sighed. ‘Excited. Gosh, I’m so sorry for that. I knew there was only but a tiny chance and..even if it was so, you might have not wanted to keep it, or something could have happened..and…’ His voice hummed in my ear as I noticed two majestical swans coming over the hill, their large white wings elegantly curling so they could slip their large bodies into the shimmering water.
I stopped him mid-sentence.
‘If I had been pregnant I would have kept it.’ I said, my cheek still pressed against his chest. I could feel his thumbs still on my cheeks, his breath hiccuping as the words found their rightful meaning in his head. It took another long moment before he finally released his breath again, his hands moving down to tilt my head up.
I looked up into those big blues, his eyes pouring out all the love they could give. I wish I could capture this moment and put it in a frame. Forever to keep so I could be reminded of what it was like to be loved a man like Henry.
‘Why?’ He asked, a bit dumbfounded. I chuckled, and looked back at him lovingly.
‘Because, although it’s scary..it’s far less scary when I know I can do it with you. Besides..’ I smiled and shrugged. ‘..I bet you’ll be an awesome dad. Bad jokes and all.’ He grinned and tilted my head up further, his lips softly brushing over mine. ‘I’ll try my best.’ He said, a smile quickly growing on his lips.
‘I’m sorry for scaring you Henry. I know what I said was..difficult to hear. I mean. I know you really, really, really want to start a family, and then to say that I’m scared and..’ I rambled on but his lips quieted me, his tongue demanding entrance as he pulled me closer, kissing me with such passion I forgot how to even stand up straight, my knees becoming putty.
‘I can wait.’ He finally breathed in between kisses. ‘For babies that is. Not for you. I..’ He kissed me again. ‘..Need you. I need you always. I never loved a woman like I love you.’ He pushed his groin flush against me, his very evident rock-hard need now pressing into my belly as his tongue danced with mine, my lips widening as I gasped at the feeling. ‘Fuck.’ I breathed, my hands now pulling at his shirt to steady myself.
Come on knees, don’t give in on me now!
Henry noticed my struggle and just like in a movie, he pulled us down, our bodies sinking gently into the grassy hillside as his lips kept peppering me with his devotion. ‘I love you so, so much.’ He groaned, his voice thick with emotion once more. I let my head fall back into the soft grass mounds as his lips moved down to my jaw and my neck, his lips leaving a burning trail of tender skin, slightly reddened by his five o’clock shadow. 
The damp grass was slowly drenching my clothes, but I couldn’t care, the sensation of his heavy muscles pinning me down along with his musky scent mixing with the smell of crushed grass..it was all I needed.
Without much of a thought my fingers nimbly moved to unbuckle his belt, the metal clanging ringing like bells in the soft wind,  his hands in turn moving below my jacket to knead my lower back through the thin material of my summer dress.
‘Please.’ I begged, hastily tugging open his jeans.
‘Please what my love?’ Henry grinned, moving up ever so slightly so his dark eyes could peer into mine.
‘Want me to dirty talk huh?’ I quirked up an eyebrow, finding him smile at me in amusement.
‘Well.’ I licked my lips. ‘I want you to fill me up so good..our heartbeats become one. I want you to claim me…’ I pulled him down with a tug on his jacket. ‘I want to feel you inside me. Hard and pulsating and..’ I didn’t need to continue, his hands making light work of pushing aside my dress and panties, his erection springing free from his boxers.
‘Fuck baby.’ He growled, his velvety hardness pushing eagerly against my petals, his hips slowly..ever so slowly..forcing me to take him in. I let out a shivery breath as the sensation of the cold grass in combination with his hot flesh overflowed me. I didn’t even have control over my body anymore. As by second nature my legs wrapped around his hips while he pushed himself further and further into me, stretching my soft walls to accommodate his need.
My hands clawed at his back and our tongues darted in a sensual dance. A dance we had become well practised in now. Prodding, teasing, rolling, sucking.
My back arched up as he finally bottomed out inside me, his arms now moving to pull me up from the soft wet grass, our weight being shifted on his knees as he sat up. I no longer felt the cold dampness, but instead a wave of heat as his large arms encased me, pulling me as close as he could.
‘I am yours.’ I breathed, feeling Henry around me like a blanket of love. His hot breath against my cold cheeks as his lips bruised mine, his arms my bed and his cock my life force. I did not need another thing in the world right now, my eyes just lazily taking in our surroundings as he started to push inside me.
Low golden sun rays caressed his skin, making him as beautiful as a son of the gods, his chiseled jaw clenching in effort as his hips started to move at their own volition. It was like one of those great marble statues had been brought to life, no ink spared to paint him to be the most beautiful human being I knew. Strong, yet sweet, proud, yet humble, loyal, yet thorough. And did I mention well endowed? Yes. All of the above.
I leaned into his arms as I felt myself practically float, the grass blades that occasionally tickled my naked flesh the only reminder that I was in fact still earth bound. Henry’s delicious roars and moans filled the air as the sun set behind the hills, his hips jerking now in earnest.
I could feel a few drops hit my skin.
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Was that sweat?
Was he crying?
I finally came back to and looked up at Henry, his face contorted in ecstasy. No tears, that was for sure. I let out a low moan as our eyes met. Dark, smouldering, filled with want. Seeing those dark stormy eyes as he filled me up so deliciously made my insides coil up, my nerves shoot small sparks of electricity.
‘Gods.’ I gasped, giving in to the sensation as my body started to spasm, my legs locking even tighter around his hips as my eyelids became heavy with lust.
‘Come for me my angel. Let go.’ He said, his low voice now ringing somewhere in the back of my mind as hot fire emblazoned my groin, my hands feebly scratching at his shoulders as my hair kissed the grass that lay beneath us.  
Stars struck my every nerve and I lost all control of my body, my body spasming beneath Henry’s iron lock as my throat let out a lone cry.
Henry did not stop, his hips still pushing me further and further over the edge as I keened and pleaded. My orgasm slowly made way for a pleasant high, my body still moulding perfectly around Henry as he searched for his release.
I could feel more water drops hit my face. I looked up and noticed the threateningly dark sky that now drifted towards us.
It was about to rain. 
I reeled up my head and let the cool water drip on my heated skin, my cheeks so flush with need that the heavenly water was a welcome guest to our conjoinment.
The small drizzle became bigger drops.
Henry pulled me closer, ramming into me with a certain earnesty now.
I would be sore later.
Bigger drops became a pour, our clothes slowly becoming wet with not just our sweat, but also rain.
I let out a low moan as I started to feel him twitch inside me, his hands now clenching me so hard he’d surely leave some marks.
‘FUCK HENRY.’ I gasped, my whole body being shook by his punishing pounding.
So this was sex like with an emotional Henry. Fuck me.
The rain started to pour harder and harder as Henry’s thrusts became sloppy, his head flopping forward as he let out a low roar.
‘FUCK BABY. FUCK. I. Love. You. So. Much.’ He jerked as he spilled his life giving seed in my womb. Once more sealing our union, now for the world to see without the protection of stone bedroom walls.
I could visualise it. Our bodies half clothed, sprawled out on the tall wet grass. Completely soaked. 
Heavily panting he pulled me closer, shielding me somewhat from the rain as he rubbed slow lines over my back. I was drenched. Everything about me was drenched. In and out. Super wet.
I let out a soft giggle as our eyes finally met again.
‘I. Am. Wet.’ I sniffled, earning a chuckle from him in turn, his hair now forming a wet frame of delicious curls around his face.
I hope our kids will have his curls.  
We quickly hurdled ourselves back to the car, finding an enthusiastic, but also slightly confused Kal as he licked our salty, wet hands. I sat back behind the wheel as Henry gave Kal a big bear hug, his eyes quickly trailing back to me. We didn’t need to speak, the only sound in the car now being the rumbling of our empty stomachs.
I chuckled and Henry moved his hand over my growling belly, his eyebrows lifting in a teasing matter. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, quickly starting the car before I’d have to devour him in the literal sense of the word.
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Part 20 >
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dansnaturepictures · 3 years
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19/06/21-Arrival in and journey to Anglesey and Red Squirrels and more at Newborough Forest
Today was the day we have been waiting for, the much mentioned by me Anglesey holiday intended for this week last June postponed rightly due to the pandemic was finally able to happen. As we got everything packed up and and ready to go and on the way out to the car this morning at home I took in an assortment of varied and colourful flowers in one pot in the garden and a delicious looking rose bush as well as some Starlings and House Sparrows in the garden getting pictures of the flowers which I tweeted tonight on Dans_Pictures. The wi-fi at the cottage very luckily again seems all right for posting photos and these posts. I can’t guarantee that won’t change but I’m encouraged.
On the long journey it was great to take in some nice sky scenes especially at Keele service station, and the usual when travelling lovely raptors Red Kite and Buzzard beautifully in the air. I also liked seeing oxeye daisies and foxgloves taking over the verges nicely the former continuing that nicely from at home lately. Then we had the exciting moment when I personally crossed the border into Wales for the eighth time and the land then became more and hilly and mountainous and I knew I was back. Crossing the Menai strait over the impressive bridge and seeing a lovely statue into the Isle of Anglesey was just as exciting as crossing the border. I was happy with how much of the sea we could see on the journey in North Wales too with Puffin Island where we hope to go visible from the road so this was nice.
On Anglesey we wound our way through the sleepy red campion and herb-Robert clad lanes. When at our cottage foxgloves and possible kidneywort by a wall added nicely to these two flower species which were here as well. And at the cottage and driving around we were stunned to see the mountains of the beautiful Snowdonia including Snowdon itself so clearly. It looked astonishing and so beautiful. And it was as though we were right next to it rather than over the water what breathtaking view. I had expected this as we went to Snowdonia in 2016 on holiday and had a day trip to Anglesey for RSPB South Stack. But it was just so nice to be in the midst of it again. I very soon saw in lovely bright and sunny conditions that this welcoming and lovely cottage is one of the better ones we’ve stayed in for views around they really are so stunning I took the first picture in this photoset of this view. And it was also one of the better ones for wildlife as I saw Swallow on a wire around, Chaffinch and Buzzard being mobbed by crows really well. I took the second and third pictures in this photoset of daisy and other flowers and herb-Robert in the cottage. A special welcome and I am so excited for the week to come here.
We then found the perfect place for a first evening walk always such a memorable moment in any trip in the gorgeous and rich woodland of Newborough Forest one of the places on our list to come this holiday to try and see a Red Squirrel one of my favourite mammals and one we love seeing. It was so lovely to walk through this forest with the sun lowering in the sky. I took the fourth, fifth and sixth pictures in this photoset of this very beautiful forest tonight. It became a day of favourites for me as we saw Jay and Great Spotted Woodpecker two of my favourite birds well. I liked taking in these quintessential woodland species, and I also enjoyed finding a special Jay feather with its exciting bright blue edges. Also as we arrived and throughout the nice walk alongside beautiful Blackbird we heard a stunning Song Thrush singing it’s heart out one of my favourite bird songs as well as Blackbird so loudly the sound was extremely soothing and melodious. A great sound track to the walk.
Walking on towards a lovely pond here as well as a tiny frog, insects and more great red campion and herb-Robert and ivy and nice yellow flowering some broom in the beautiful tree scenes I was thrilled to see two Red Admirals exceptionally well in the air and still. It was great to see Little Grebe and Coot with adorable chicks among other birds on the lake. And we also noticed a big dragonfly flying delightfully over. Looking in the binoculars I made out the green and blue of a Southern Hawker one of my favourite dragonflies. My first year tick of the trip so soon and a crucial one to see going into the summer months so this did feel good.
The moment of the day came next though as me, my Mum and Missy reunited with my Mum’s partner who indicated he had seen Red Squirrels. We sat quietly with him for a bit and were amazed to notice a Red Squirrel sneak through the trees and come down to two lovely feeding boxes as my Mum had heard happens here. Two came down in the end and we spend a perfect few minutes watching these rare and warm coloured typical woodland mammals making out their charming features with one darker than the other I took the seventh and eighth pictures in this photoset of these. Sat in a nicely lit forest of sweet seasonal aromas with midges on the wing, watching one of the most beautiful and iconic species we have was an exceptional start to the holiday and exactly what we love having time away for. It felt like we had really made excellent use of this nice and dry evening to see one of the species we had so hoped for.
We missed these last year after seeing them three years running with the Highlands of Scotland in January 2018 sightings in the snow sandwiched between years with autumnal Brownsea Island visits. This ensured we have seen Red Squirrels in England, Scotland and Wales which I am very proud of. It makes it my second earliest sight of one ever in a year too. They can largely be a seasonal thing at Brownsea Island or although I’ve never seen them there Isle of Wight our local refuges for this species. Today it was entertaining seeing one Red Squirrel put itself into the box of nuts to feed and stay in there ages and all you could see for a few minutes was it’s bushy red tail! It really was an amazing few minutes enjoying this precious species. What a sensational start to the holiday! It was great to share our sighting of the squirrels with some fellow holidaymakers who had never seen one and they seemed to see them as we left which was great. Chaffinches were around here and nicely on the walk too.
Tonight at the lovely cottage I took the final two pictures in this photoset of a sky scene with the moon and clouds in and a moth in the cottage. I enjoyed some special sky scenes with some mist coming over the mountains too and some Blackbirds in the garden male and female tonight which was great. The day did truly start to belong to mammals though with views of Rabbits there seem to be a lot around here adding nicely to our Hare experience in Hampshire on the Stone Curlew trip on Tuesday. And magically tonight as has happened at a cottage we stayed in on our Northumberland holiday at Seahouses in 2019 we saw some bats I saw one beautifully drift over through the night’s sky tonight. A small one so I believe a pipistrelle. I’ve had a good year for bats. 
Wildlife Sightings Summary for journey, home and arrival: Two of my favourite birds the Red Kite and Buzzard, crow I couldn’t quite tell which, Herring Gull, Grey Heron nicely over a main road, House Sparrow, Blackbird, Starling, one of the regular Feral Pigeons at home, Swift, Swallow, Chaffinch, rabbit, the bat, a butterfly I couldn’t quite tell which and other insects.
Wildlife Sightings Summary for Newborough Forest: My first Southern Hawker and Red Squirrel of the year, two of my favourite birds the Great Spotted Woodpecker and Jay, one of my favourite butterflies the Red Admiral, Chaffinch, Robin well too, Blackbird, Woodpigeon, Mallard, Tufted Duck, Coot, Little Grebe, Common Blue Damselfly, frog, midges, other insects and I heard Song Thrush.
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killingkueen · 4 years
Text
Much More Than This
Hello, hello, hello @mrs-stiltskin! Can you believe it’s me again???
Prompt: cats, dogs, books, opposites attract
Summary: Mr. Gold tries not to pay much attention to the new librarian and her husband. He tries very, very hard. He almost succeeds.
Rated very E
A/N The First: There is some very mellow m/m as well as some m/f/m, so keep an open mind. It’s also the first slash I’ve ever written—today is the day I became a fanfic author.
2A2N: I have never met a Scottish person in my life 
Edited to add AO3 link
OOO
The sky was moody and grey. It hadn’t yet determined if that was because the sun hadn’t fully risen, or if it was a sign of rain. It didn’t matter to Mr. Gold, who parked his Cadillac behind his shop. He parked there everyday, after all. And every day he took his cane and his keys in hand, and opened his shop. Mr. Gold had a strict schedule, a strict routine. That was how he liked it.
At the back door, key out and ready to be slotted into the lock, Gold paused. There were boots sticking out of the bottom of his shop. Boots attached to two squirming legs, the toes digging into the ground for leverage. If he strained his ears, he could make out faint muttering, followed by a psspsspss.
Gold stared, baffled. The boots were old, but not shabby, and along the lines of what he’d seen the dock-workers wear. He didn’t think any of the men who worked there would have the nerve to—what, exactly? Was this a robbery? If it were, he’d give points for creativity.
Whatever he was doing, he was an unwelcome change to Gold’s routine. He had a shop to open. Gold lifted his cane, knocking the handle against the wood paneling of his shop, firm and loud. As he hoped, the man startled, a muffled thud accompanied with what was now cursing as his head hit the floor above him.
The man scrambled out, his limbs kicking up dirt as he backtracked.
Mr. Gold almost smiled. This was the most excitement he had seen in months.
“And just what do you think you’re doing underneath my shop, dearie?”
The man now stood on his knees. His eyes, widened in surprise, snapped to Gold’s face.
“Glasgo’!” he exclaimed. “Isnae this a shock! ”
Gold raised an eyebrow. Not many people in town much cared where he’d come from, and a good amount of them swore it was somewhere much warmer than Scotland. Glasgow was a dreary place full of nothing of value to him, and he couldn’t say he missed his homeland.
“From Scotland yourself?” Gold found himself asking.
“Aye, I grew up in the highlands in a wee toon near Inverness.” He brushed off the front of his jacket, dusty from crawling around in the dirt. “I thooght I was stuck wi' these Americans, ye ken.” His smile widened, thrilled at the chance meeting.
That still didn't give him the answer he wanted. “What are you doing under my shop?" he asked again. What was he doing in Storybrooke, for that matter? It was still too early in the season for tourists.
The man’s eyes were too wide for his face, and very expressive. They darted away, to the library across the street, and for just a moment he looked like a kid who’d been sent home with a note from the teacher. The library. Of course.
Gold had heard the new librarian arrived last week, having come all the way from—London, was it? The UK, at least. He remembered the name he’d read when he filed the contracts with the city council: Isabelle French. He had seen a second visa for the husband, though Gold couldn't recall reading the name. He would bet his current inventory he was looking at him.
“Mr. French,” Gold said, deciding he didn’t much care what the man’s name was. He relished the look of surprise that appeared on his face for the second time that morning. It made Gold feel more on balance, knowing things people didn’t expect him to. Much more regular, keeping the townsfolk on their toes.
“Och aye, that’s reit.” A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. He half shrugged. “That’s me, innit.” His shoulders straightened with—pride, was it?
The man was thin, and the baggy clothes he wore only made him look smaller. Even on his knees, Gold could tell he wouldn’t stand any taller than himself, and tall was certainly not a word he could claim. His hair was shaggy but not quite to the point of being unkempt, and he needed a shave.
He also needed to know how things worked around here.
“Mr. French,” he said again, digging his cane into the ground. It was quite easy to look down his nose at him, when the man was already so far below him. “Just what were you doing under my shop?”
“Ah,” French blinked. “I havenae adjusted tae bein' haur yit. Jet lag, I’spose.” At Gold’s unamused expression, he hastened to add, “Sae, I was oot walkin' thes morn when I saw a moggie athwart th' causey. Puir hin' was injured. When I tried tae approach it, it ran under yer shop an' noo won’t come it.”
Gold was viscerally aware he hadn’t set foot in Scotland in nearly thirty years.
“There is a cat under my shop,” he surmised.
“Aye.” He stared up at him, brown eyes wide and waiting.
“What?“ Gold asked impatiently.
“You sound almost American,” French said around a half-smile.
That’s where they were, isn’t it? He pursed his lips. “How are you going to get the cat out, then?”
“If I had something tae wrap her in, I could pull her out safely, I think.” His eyes trailed to Gold’s throat and he knew what he was going to ask the moment before he did. “Do you mind if I knick your scarf?”
Yes, I absolutely do, Gold thought. He pulled the scarf from his throat, the cold air biting at his neck and collar bone, now bare. It was soft and wide, perfect for the early spring, and long enough to wrap around his neck twice and still dangle nicely. It annoyed him, probably more than it should, that it technically was perfect to wrap a cat in.
He held it out to French wordlessly.
“Cheers,” French said, disappearing under the wooden base, leaving Gold to stare at the heel of his boots once again.
Cane in hand, Gold waited.
French spoke in a low, even voice. Gold couldn’t make out what he was saying but it sounded comforting. Hopefully the cat agreed. After a few silent moments, Gold heard a terrible yowling, like a broken siren.
Making much slower progress than before, French inched his way from under the shop, the yowling becoming louder and louder.
“I suppose the noise is a good sign,” Gold said, voice raised over the beastie.
“She’s got a pair of lungs on her,” French agreed. He was smothered in dirt again, the knees of his jeans particularly dark.
He eased himself to his knees, rearranging the bundle in his arms so he had a much firmer grip before he carefully moved to his feet. The cat was wrapped quite securely in the scarf, enough so that Gold could only see a small tuft of dark fur peak through. He took it as further good news that he couldn’t see any obvious wet spots seeping into the fabric. Mr. Gold didn’t like blood.
After a long moment, French coughed. “Where tae now then?” He was cradling the cat like it was a child, holding it firmly to his chest. His hand rubbed circles against it’s back, which did nothing to silence the shrieking.
“You’re not bringing that mongrel inside,” Gold said.
“You dinnae look like much of a veterinarian,” French fired back.
Gold narrowed his eyes. Yes, it would be a vet he’d want. “Marian Hood owns a clinic that’s across the street from the elementary school.” She was known to be quite an early riser herself; chances were she was already inside her building, getting ready for the day.
French looked at him expectantly.
Sighing, he said, “Go north a few blocks and then take a left at the movie theatre. Once you reach Marco’s Woodworking, take another left. You’ll find it eventually.”
“Right. Thanks for the help, Mr. Gold.”
With that, the man turned to leave. Gold looked to the sky. It seemed to be settling on rain, after all. Hm. Gold wasn’t going to offer him a ride; the man had just been rolling around in the dirt. Besides, he had a shop to open.
“Mr. French,” he called, just as the man reached the sidewalk. “It’s too long to walk.”
“Oh,” he said, frowning. “But I don’t have a—”
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Gold started to limp to his caddy. “Get in before I change my mind, Mr. French,” he said, opening the passenger side door with no small amount of sarcastic grandeur.
The ride was broken only by the pathetic wailing of the poor creature, and the quieting shushing of the man who held her.
Gold would open his shop as soon as he dropped them off. Then his routine would be back to normal, and he’d again be ignorant to the existence of Mr. and Mrs. French.
OOO
The sunshine was bright through the windows of the pawn shop. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky when Mr. Gold opened for the day. Only blue skies could be seen through his shop windows when he heard the bell signal someone had opened his door.
Gold didn’t look up from his ledger. An air of aloof casualness always worked best as a starting point. They were the ones encroaching on his day, after all.
“I’ll be with you in a moment,” he said, making a mark that he would erase later as the sound of heels clicked across his floor. He didn’t look up when the clicking stopped in front of him at the counter. After a pause, a plastic bag was set down on the glass.
Something to pawn, then. Shame. He was almost in the mood to argue about rent. Gold’s eyes flickered up. Standing before him was a woman he’d never seen before. She was quite pretty. At least her profile was; she was currently scanning the shelves of their various glassware and bits and bobs.
“Do you have many books here?” She turned in a slow circle to take it all in.
“No.”
The woman looked at him. “There’s antiques here, too, right? It’s not just a pawn shop?”
“Books aren’t really what most people think of when they think of antiques.”
“No, because then they’re usually called first editions.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, and nodded his head slightly, conceding her point. “All the same. My apologies.” His regular buyers weren’t interested in books, and certainly no one in town was either.
“I suppose I’m surrounded by enough books, as it is,” she said, sighing.
Gold had a feeling he knew who this newcomer was. He should leave it alone. He had enough work to keep him busy.
“If you’re interested, I can ask my contacts. I know a person or two in the rare books trade.” He knew exactly no one but they’d be easy enough to track down.
She smiled, delighted surprise brightening her eyes. He had been mistaken before, calling her pretty.
“That’s so kind of you to offer. I’ll let you know.”
Mrs. Isabelle French, new head librarian of the Storybrooke Library, was beautiful.
He nodded, not trusting anything he could say to her. She smiled again. It felt like a bullet straight to his chest.
“Yes, well.” Her hand went to the bag, almost forgotten on the counter. “I’m afraid I’m actually here about a different matter. You no doubt know who I am already, but all the same: hello. My name is Belle French, and it’s nice to meet you.” She opened the bag, taking out a familiar scarf.
“I know it’s rude to return something without having it cleaned, especially over a week later and especially with how my husband absconded with it in the first place, but it’s a very fine material? And hand dyed, which of course you would already know.” She bit her lip. The previous surprise on her face had long since evaporated, leaving nothing but worry.
The scarf had been a gift from his son from when the lad had taken a school trip to Europe. Neal had bought it from a boutique he probably shouldn't have been in, proud to present his papa with something that met his high standards. The silk was lovely and soft. It was his favorite; the final thing he reached for when he left the house on chilly days. His son had given it to him, after all, which made it irreplaceable.
“It’s just a scarf, Mrs. French.”
He shook the fabric, wanting to see the full extent of the damage. Near the center were two dark patches, clotting the silk. And there, at the end of one side, was two more.
“The thing is, the lady at the dry cleaners wasn’t sure if it could be saved. We’re on a strict budget until I get paid, and with the surprise expense of emergency vet bills,” she risked a slightly ironic smile, “I can’t justify paying for a service that might not even work.”
“I was the one who gave it to your husband,” he reminded her. “He didn’t snatch it from me. I was under the impression the cat wasn’t yours.”
“She wasn’t.” Shrugging, she said, “She at least hasn’t been chipped nor reported missing. Rum can’t bear the thought of leaving her at the pound, and so it would seem we have a new roommate. And honestly, if we were going to pay for the cost of fixing her up, we might as well take her in. Rum always said he was a dog person through and through, but he’s thrilled we have her now. Honestly it’s worth the bill to see him this happy.”
Mrs. French shook her head, blushing at her rambling. “My point was, if you took the scarf to the dry cleaners yourself, or just bought a replacement, we’ll pay you back for it as soon as my first paycheck comes in.”
“That won’t be for two months, at least.” Government jobs were notoriously finicky when it came to billing cycles, and the town having what could be considered a minuscule government didn’t make the paperwork any less annoying.
“I’m happy to sign something.”
“It’s just a scarf,” Gold heard himself say again. “Don’t worry yourself.”
The woman opened and closed her hands, confused about the lifeline placed in front of her. No doubt she’d been regaled with stories of the cruel, evil landlord from the townsfolk. On a different day he’d be more than happy to meet her expectations. Perhaps he merely wanted to make a good first impression.
She finally seemed to settle on a smile, small and relieved. “As soon as I get the library open, be sure to come visit, alright? I’ll get you signed up for a card, free of charge.”
Was that a wink? Gold had always thought library cards were already free, but then again, the town had been without a library for as long as he’d lived in it.
“Perhaps.” With careful hands, he folded Neal’s scarf into an orderly rectangle. He knew a few tricks for cleaning silk. “Good day, Mrs. French.”
After only a moment of hesitation, the sound of her heels clicked out his door.
OOO
Gold decided the best thing to do was put the Frenchs out of his mind. Better yet, avoid them entirely, as it was clear he couldn’t be trusted around either of them.
That didn’t stop him from hearing things. For instance, Belle had moved to the UK from Australia with her father when she was in primary school. She’d met her husband when she was finishing up her master’s degree and coming off a particularly nasty breakup. As Gold heard it, things were fine until her husband was laid off and they had to move in with her father in London. Unhappy, she went looking for any job that would get them out. A head librarian position in middle of nowhere, Maine? Fine. Perfect. And wasn’t that something else, that they only officially married so he could come with her to her new job in America.
Most interestingly, Gold heard they would sometimes go to the diner for breakfast. The morning Gold walked into Granny’s, it wasn’t like he was expecting to see them, or anything. He just thought it was high time he became a patron of the most popular Storybrooke establishment. Support small business, that kind of thing.
“Glasgow,” he heard before the door had even closed behind him.
Mr. French was waving him over to the booth he shared with his wife, a wide grin on his face.
Gold was going to ignore him, of course. He was going to stare straight ahead and pretend he hadn’t heard.
“Mr. French,” he said, walking slowly over to them. “Good morning.”
“Mr. French?” his wife repeated slowly, raising an eyebrow.
A bashful smile Gold couldn’t explain appeared on French’s face. He shrugged at his wife helplessly.
“Join us for a wee bite, Glasgow? We huvnae ordered yet.” He gestured to the menus spread before them, as if Gold needed proof.
He frowned. He already let them off the hook for the scarf. It was mostly his own fault, after all, and he was nothing if not fair. They didn’t pay rent to him, either, since they were residing in the caretaker’s apartment. Moving across continents was expensive; perhaps they hadn’t budgeted enough for it, especially considering the paycheck problem. If that were the case, they could come to his shop and ask like everyone else.
“I only came in for a cup of coffee,” he demurred.
“Oh.” His face fell, like he was actually disappointed. “You can sit here with it, if you want.”
“If he doesn’t want to join us, we can’t make him, Mr. French.” The look on Belle’s face was unreadable as she stared at him over her mug.
“I liked the sound of it, alright?” His mouth pulled up at the corner. “If that’s what he wants to call me, I’m nae gonna stop him.”
She snorted, her own grin breaking free as she laughed.
Gold looked towards the counter forlornly. He was finding he did not have enough caffeine in his system yet. He supposed he could walk away and wait by the counter like everyone else did, but something kept him by the French’s table. Belle had a pretty laugh. Maybe that was it.
“Mr. French is my father,” she finally explained with an eye roll and shake of her head. “This ridiculous man is Robert McWeaver.”
“Nice tae meet you.”
“Apologies for assuming.” He should have paid more attention to the paperwork. It wasn’t like him, not to pay attention.
“You couldnae have known.” Robert McWeaver took a sip from his own mug. “What would you recommend, then?”
“What?”
“To eat. What’s good?”
Gold wouldn’t know. This was his first time stepping inside for anything other than rent.
“I’m getting the pancakes,” Belle said, eyes on the menu. “Rum’s leaning towards the full breakfast.”
“As close tae an English breakfast as I can get. They got one thing right, eh, the English?” He laughed at his own joke, mouth wide, the crows feet at his eyes giving him a distinguished, friendly look. Gold’s own just made him look old. With his loose clothes and easy smile, McWeaver was the definition of laid back, almost—cool. Someone people gravitated towards. Not that Gold knew anything about it.
But that was the most constant thing he’d heard, wasn’t it? With their wide smiles and kind eyes, it was no wonder how the townsfolk had adopted them so readily. Anyone would be lucky to be their friend, to share in their warmth.
“Take a seat,” Belle said, smiling. “We’ll put an order in, get you your coffee.”
God help him, he almost did just that.
What was with these two?
“Some other day,” he said, turning on his heel. “Ms. French, Mr. McWeaver.”
“We'll hold you to—“ the door latched shut cut off what they were about to say.
Brooding, Gold walked to his shop. Whatever those two were after, they weren’t getting it from him. Besides, there was no room in their happy lives for the heartless, asshole landlord.  It was better for everyone if he left them alone. He had held himself apart from the rest of the town for years. That was how he liked it.
Not bothering to flip the sign, Gold went straight to the back, deciding to bury himself in polishing every piece of jewelry in the shop until the lot of it could power a solar panel.
He was working through his collection of wedding rings when the front door opened, bell jangling. A quick look at the clock told him he was supposed to have opened twenty minutes ago. Whatever happened to his routine?
Not bothering with his cane, he stood up and pushed the curtain aside. He promptly froze.
“Alright, Glasgow?”
“Mr. McWeaver,” Gold said, frowning at the nickname. He needed to say something before it became permanent. “Ms. French.”
“Call me Rum.” His smile was back, broad and open as ever.
Gold said nothing, just stood in between the doorway. He had expected to have more time before they came to deal. After his retreat that morning, perhaps they thought it best to get it over with.
“You, uh, left before ordering anything.” Belle placed a to-go cup and a bag down in front of him. “We got you a muffin, too, in case you get peckish.”
They stared at him expectantly. Only when their smiles started to dim did Gold manage to clear his throat.
“Thank you,” he offered.
“We weren’t sure how you liked your coffee, so we just got it black,” Belle said helpfully. “I hope that’s all right.”
Gold liked it with enough sugar to make his auntie's teeth pop out.
“Black is fine.”
He was rewarded with a smile.
“Well,” she said, rocking back on her heels. “We have a shipment of new books coming that I need to sign for, so we’ll get out of your hair. Have a great day, Mr. Gold.”
Before he could do more than nod a goodbye, they were out the door, the bell ringing after them. He watched as Rum reached out to take Belle’s hand. Gold watched as they reached the library doors and she dug through her purse one handed for the keys. Rum kissed her neck, and he couldn’t hear the squeal as she batted him away, but he could imagine it. They were like teenagers; blissfully happy and seemingly untouched by the real world.
Gold looked at his coffee, and saw the heat guard had fallen down. He opened the bag. The muffin was blueberry, his favorite.
Staying away from them would be best.
OOO
Gold soon developed a new routine. Every morning he’d stand by the front counter of his shop and wait for Belle and Rum to make their way to the diner. He never wanted to go himself, but something always convinced him; maybe if Belle’s dress was blue, or if Rum had his arm around her waist rather than looped through her own. Gold would watch until they were out of sight, then finish up whatever busy work he was doing. After locking the door to his shop he’d make his own way down the street.
When he got to Granny’s, he waited at the front so he could order coffee to go. At least he would, if he ever got that far. As soon as Gold was through the door, Rum would call out to him and insist he join their table. Belle and Rum were never ready to order anyway, which was just as well, as he liked to rest his leg before making the short walk back to his shop. And Gold was finding he quite liked the breakfast spread.
So it went in the mornings. Gold knew sometimes they ate dinner there as well, but there was no pattern to when they went and Gold hadn’t run into them on the night’s he popped in, for rent or otherwise.
Currently, Gold had already walked through the door. He was waiting at the front, by the register. Rum usually noticed him by now. He tapped the handle of his cane. The front bar was white and shiny, as it always was. The glasses behind, stacked and waiting for the waitresses to fill them up, all glistened.
Gold shot a glance at their table. Rum was facing him, his elbows on the table, head in his hands, his face rapt as he listened to whatever Belle was saying. He nodded once or twice.
Gold frowned. He wondered what she was saying. Last week, after stumbling on a story about World War I soldiers and how they bonded over their trauma, she had gone on a tangent of medics and the first studies of shell shock. The time before, how cigars were made. It was no wonder Rum hadn't noticed his entrance if Belle was talking about her current passion. She could have anyone riveted with as little as a sigh.
He stepped aside as one of the tables finished up and left, passing him on their way out. This wasn’t part of the routine. Gold was never supposed to actually order coffee to go.
He had overstepped, that was it. They had likely seen him walk in, but hadn’t said anything in the hopes he left without intruding. He could leave them alone for a single morning to enjoy breakfast as a married couple, for once. Did that mean they didn’t want him there anymore? Maybe they were both too nice to say it to his face, and were waiting for him to take the hint instead.
Gold glared at the cups, standing pristine along the wall, as if he could intimidate them into giving him answers.
That was how Ruby found him when she came out of the kitchen, finally.
“Mr. Gold,” she greeted. “Are you going to sit down?”
He ignored her.
From the corner of his eye, he saw her look at Rum and Belle’s table, then back at him. She rolled her eyes.
“Granny,” she bellowed behind her, causing Gold to jump. “Has the special been updated? Like, on the board?”
“I wrote it last night,” Granny yelled back, muffled by the distance.
“Alright.” Ruby’s eyes were on him, something smug and knowing in their depths.
“Glasgow!”
Attention grabbed by Ruby, Rum finally looked up toward the counter to where Gold was brooding.
“You’re late today,” he called with a frown. “Everything all right?”
Ruby snorted. Gold shot her a glare which she promptly ignored.
“Take a seat, Mr. Gold,” she said with a bright smile. “I’ll get started on drinks.”
Rum was still staring at him, eyes overwide and welcoming. He had such an expressive face, so open, so telling, so. Gold wondered what he’d look like below him, panting and wanton.
When Gold continued to stand there, Belle turned as well, looking over her shoulder. Her hair was down today, the sheek brown curls cascading down her back. His fingers itched with his want to bury them in her hair, cradle her head while he kissed her.
These were not new thoughts; they had always been there, just below the surface. He swallowed, trying to bury his feelings deep in his stomach, keeping them from sight.
With numb feet, he limped to the table. Belle scooted to the side, making room for him to slide next to her. He liked the mornings he sat next to Belle; he could smell her perfume, light and floral like roses. And Gold liked when he was facing Rum; half the fun of listening to Belle was watching her husband.
“We havenae ordered yet,” he was saying now, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward. “Just waitin’ for you.”
They were too sweet for him. All this time, Gold was pretending it was just good timing on his part. Oh, but it hurt his heart, to be expected.
“Sorry for the delay,” he said quietly.
“It’s no problem at all.” Belle bumped him with her shoulder. The heat of her burned. “I was just regaling Rum about a new book Ariel recommended, about Octopuses, of all things.”
“Calling them ‘octopi’ is wrong, apparently,” Rum said. “And they have three hearts. And,” he sat up straighter, taking his arms off the table when he spotted Ruby approaching from the kitchen. “And, they remember their handlers, and especially the grudges they hold against each of them.”
“How about we order, and then we’ll catch you up to speed,” she teased.
“I would love nothing more,” he said. He meant every word, from the bottom of his decrepit heart.
OOO
When Gold told himself he had to stay away from them, he meant it. It was Belle and Rum who didn’t seem to get the memo. And okay, maybe he had developed a taste for Granny’s coffee.
At least he could admit to himself now that he didn’t want to stay away. The chance that they felt as deeply for him as he did for them was impossible, the thought of them willingly taking him into their bed was unthinkable. But he could have their friendship. If their mornings together in the diner was all he had of them, he’d cherish that time fiercely.
Seeing one of them alone wasn’t something that happened often, though. Yet here Rum was, no sign of his wife in sight, fidgeting in his shop as if he were a stranger.
“What are you doing here?” Gold asked.
“What, am I not allowed?”
His accent had mellowed in the couple months he’d been in town, through necessity if nothing else. It was a continued source of amusement for Belle that their accents thickened whenever they talked to each other.
Gold put down his pen. He was going through a list of items from an estate sale down south, but that could wait. Spreading his arms across his counter, he gave Rum his full attention, patiently waiting for him to get to the point, or leave. He was used to these sorts of games. Usually he could guess what the other player wanted, though.
Gold would have thought if they wanted something from him they would have asked a long time ago, but situations changed. He hadn’t heard of Rum rescuing any more wayward animals.
Rum’s full attention was currently on the paintings that hung on the wall behind him. Perhaps it was about his pride.
“Do you need a job?” Gold asked.
That surprised Rum enough to make him look over. “A job?” he asked, frowning.
“You don’t work,” Gold pointed out. He knew what Belle’s salary was. It was enough to sustain a two person household, but barely. He couldn’t imagine there was any left at the end of the month to for savings.
“Legally, I can’t. Couldnae get a work visa. Figured it was lucky enough Belle wanted me to come with her at all.” He shrugged. “If it comes to it, I’ll wash dishes at Granny’s. Said she’d pay me under the table.”
“I see.”
“I like not working, to be honest. I’m good at being a house husband.” He flashed a crooked smile, but there something hesitant in it, like he expected derision.
“That so?”
Rum wandered closer, leaning his hip against the counter. “Yeah. I like being able to make a home for Belle. It’s a great feeling, when she comes back to a tidy apartment and a warm meal.”
An image of Rum in a retro house dress, makeup neat and apron pressed, flashed in his mind. Better to focus on that then the stab between his ribs, knowing he was going to a cold, empty house devoid of Rum and Belle’s warmth.
“Now that’s an idea, innit?” Rum perked up, eyes expectant.
For a second, Gold was worried he had spoken aloud. “What is?”
“Dinner. I’m a good cook. Come and try it.”
Gold barked a laugh. Of all the things for him to suggest.
Rum looked down, his smile fading quickly. “It was just an idea,” he mumbled.
Afraid he’d leave, Gold reached out, grabbing his hand where he lay on the counter.
“I thought you were going to ask me for money,” he tried to explain. “Or some other sort of deal.”
Rum looked at their hands. He flexed his, but didn’t pull away. “Uh, right. Makes sense.” He straightened. “So, dinner? You’ll come?”
“Of course. When were you thinking?”
He shrugged. “Tonight, tomorrow. When—Friday!” Rum shouted, tugging his hand like an electrical current had gone through them. “Come Friday.”
“Okay,” he agreed, bemused.
“Just, uh, you open later on Saturdays? And Belle does too, at the library. Friday is best.”
“Expecting a late night?”
His eyes widened, brows drawing together. “Maybe? You know, just in case.”
“I’ll bring the wine,” Gold said after a pause.
“That would be perfect.” This time when Rum smiled, it looked genuine. “It’s a date.”
OOO
He had chosen a rosé. He hadn’t asked much about what Rum was planning on serving, wanting to be surprised. And rosés paired nicely with all most things..
With one final brush down the front of his suit, he knocked on the apartment door. Seconds later it opened, revealing Belle wearing a bright dress and a brighter smile.
For a moment he was struck mute, words lost as he stared at her. She was so lovely.
“Come in, come in,” she said, not seeming to notice his state. She reached out for him, sliding her hand along his back as she guided him inside. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
The apartment was small, but cozy. The living room was big enough to accommodate a TV and a sofa, and to the left a dining table with four chairs, but not much else. Not that it kept Belle from piling books on every conceivable surface, including the floor along the walls. Gold couldn’t help but smile at that. Everything was neat and tidy, excepting the books. A perfect home, all things considered.
Rum poked his head out of the kitchen. “Hey, Glasgow,” he called. “Make yourself comfortable.”
He hadn’t been too far off when he imagined the apron. “Smells good,” he said, not having anything better to say. And it did, the heady aroma or sizzling meat and spices heavy in the air. It would seem Rum hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he was good at this.
“I hope you like it. Should be ready soon.” He disappeared into the kitchen.
Gold felt Belle’s arm tighten around him. When he looked, there was a small smile playing on her lips.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Nothing.” She gave him a final squeeze before letting go. She took the bottle of wine from him before walking to the table. “He wants to impress you. We both do.”
That warmed him up from the inside in a way he chose not to examine too closely right then. “That right? You cook, too?”
“God, no. But I am the master of doing dishes.”
They were interrupted by a meow, coming from the ground.
“Hello again,” he said to their roommate. “You’re looking well.” He had never gotten a good look at the cat when Rum rescued her from beneath his shop. She was a handsome creature, a long-haired tuxedo. She looked completely healed, and would have looked completely normal too, had it not been for a missing eye. The socket was closed, and almost unnoticeable if it weren’t for the brilliant blue of her other eye.
That one eye blinked up at him. She mewled again before turning around, and he expected her to stalk off. Instead, she sat on his shoes. She weighed as much as a sack of feathers.
“You can’t have him, too,” Belle said.
The cat started to purr. Apparently, she thought otherwise.
Belle shook her head. “She’s intent on stealing all the men in my life, I swear.”
Gold wasn’t sure what to say to that. “What’s her name?” He asked. That was safe.
“Oh you’ll like this,” Belle said with a conspiratorial smile. “We named her Forte, on account of her looking like a music sheet, and being quite loud when she wants to be.”
“Aye, I remember. Fortan means luck in Gaelic,” Gold offered.
“Yes! Rum was quite proud of that. He can’t usually think of puns.”
Gold shifted, lifting up a foot experimentally. Forte ignored the hint.
Fine, then.
When he looked at Belle, she was staring at him, biting her lip.
“What?”
She shook her head. “I’m happy you’re here.”
Gold managed a nod. “I’m happy I’m here, too.” He tried to flash a smile. He hoped she didn’t mistake it for a grimace.
“Good.” Her gaze was intense, scorching.
Unable to bear it, he looked down at the cat, still on his feet. Her tail brushed his legs. He heard a timer go off.
“Belle,” Rum called. “Can I have a hand?”
“Take a seat, if she’ll let you go, the little monster,” Belle said cheerfully.
“I’ll pour the wine,” he said.
She shot a smile over her shoulder, disappearing into the kitchen.
He lifted his foot again, and Forte accepted he was serious this time. She slunk over to the couch, jumping up to the cushion gracefully before plopping down.
Gold had just filled the final wine glass when Belle came back. She set a basket of dinner rolls on the table, along with a bowl of salad. “He wanted to make buttered cabbage,” Belle said. “Apparently it’s a good side dish for this in Scotland, but I put my foot down.”
“Thank God for you, Belle French.” He pulled her chair out for her, making sure she was quite settled before taking his own seat.
Rum chose that moment to appear, dish in hand. He set it proudly in the center of the table, removing the foil with a flourish. All Gold could see was a white top,even except where a fork had been run through to create a swirling effect. The peaks were a crispy, golden brown.
“Shepherd's pie,” Rum announced. “Though I couldn’t get lamb on such short notice, so it’s actually cottage pie.” He shrugged. “Still good, I hope.”
“Still good,” Gold agreed, feeling his mouth water. Sizzling ground beef, cooked with onions, peas and carrots, drenched in a rich brown gravy. Then topped with a thick layer of creamy, buttery mashed potatoes. He hadn’t had it in years.
Rum was indeed a good cook. He scraped his plate clean, full from having second helpings.
“Was there something specific you had in mind for after dinner?” Gold asked, taking a sip of wine. The bottle was empty; an easy thing to do when split between three people.
Belle and Rum shared a look. “What do you mean?” Belle asked.
“Rum mentioned a late night. I assumed that meant board games. You seem the type,” he said warmly. Gold had been looking forward to it, honestly. He hadn’t played anything of the sort since before Neal moved out. “Something tells me you’d make a worthy opponent at Scrabble,” he said to Belle.
Belle shot her husband a look, who was looking intently at his wine glass. “He told me he had lost his nerve.”
“Sorry?” His heart stopped in his chest. This wasn’t supposed to be about a deal. That’s what Rum had said.
She seemed to read the disappointment in his face. “My husband and I owe you nothing of monetary value, Gold. We have no intention of changing this.”
“All I can offer are things of monetary value.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Rum muttered, staring at the legs of wine as they cascaded down his glass.
Belle cleared her throat. “I do actually have Scrabble, somewhere. And we have a deck of cards. If you’d like, we can certainly find a game to play. But we were thinking of a group activity of a different nature,” she said, licking her lips. His eyes followed the path of her tongue, and she smiled, wide and sultry.
“Ah?” His brain short-circuited. She couldn’t be implying what he thought she was. He looked to Rum for help, but he was staring at his wine as if trying to boil it with his mind.
Belle took pity on him. “Join us for a night.”
“A night.”
She nodded.
“Of sex.”
Another nod.
“Only one?” He asked before he could stop himself.
That got Rum’s attention. His head shot up, and he put his glass down with more force than necessary, almost knocking it over. The beginnings of a crooked smile played on his lips.
“Doesnae have to be.”
“Let’s see how we like it, first,” Belle said reasonably.
Gold didn’t ask why, out of every other sorry bastard in this town, they chose him. He didn’t question their taste or their eyesight. Instead, Gold nodded. Yes, a night with them was everything he had ever wanted.
Belle swallowed the last of her wine, head thrown back as she drained her glass. Gold followed the line of her throat as she swallowed, finally feeling like he was allowed to look.
“Leave the dishes,” she said to Rum. She scooted her chair back, holding out her hands to them. “And let’s go to bed.”
OOO
From there, it was easy.
Gold followed them into their bedroom, Rum being careful to shut the door behind them so Forte couldn’t get in to interrupt. The room was just as tidy as the rest of the apartment, with stacks of books on every conceivable surface. The bed was queen size, and he liked the thought of them three of them sharing the space. He hoped they’d let him stay for a while, after.
Rum cleared his throat, drawing Gold’s attention.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, quiet, almost shy.
Gold licked his lips.
“Yes.”
Before he could blink, Rum’s hands were on either side of his face, his thumbs brushing his cheek bones before his mouth collided with his. He started sucking on his bottom lip, causing Gold to whimper. Rum’s hand slid up, brushing through his short hair while the other ran along the back of his neck before settling in the space just above his collar bone.
Gold’s own hands were clutching the sides of Rum’s baggy shirt, pulling him closer and closer. As his tongue pushed past his lips, one hand cradled his jaw, turning his head slightly so he could push inside for a deeper kiss. Rum moaned happily, trying to suck on his tongue.
When they finally broke apart for air, Belle grabbed his head, turning it so she could kiss him deeply next. He leaned into her, almost stumbling before catching himself on her shoulder. Expecting the fabric of her dress,  he was met with her bare skin. Gold broke the kiss so he could see.
While Gold and Rum had been busy necking, Belle had taken the time to undress. All she wore now was her lingerie, the dark blue silk making her skin almost glow.
If Gold hadn’t been hard already, seeing her chest, her belly, her legs, would have undone him completely.
“Oh,” he breathed. He kissed her again, feeling her smile. She undid his tie, then started to unbutton his shirt, slowly leading him to the bed. Gold didn’t have his cane, he couldn’t remember where he had left it, but it didn’t matter with Belle and Rum there to guide him forward.
When he was laying down on the bed, Belle kissed him again, pushing his back into the comforter as her mouth ravaged him.
He lifted his hips so Rum could pull off his trousers, then socks, and Belle finally got him to shrug out of his shirt. She eyed his chest hungrily, like he was dessert.
Belle went for his throat then, sucking and licking the skin there. He moaned as she worked lower, nibbling across his collar bone. Gold’s hands reached for her, wanting to fill his hands with her creamy skin.
“No touching,” Belle decided, giggling as she grabbed his arms, pinning them to his sides. She lightly bit his nipple, the breath of her laugh skimming over his wet chest as he gave a jolt.
Rum kissed his hip bone, before taking off his boxers. Then he was bare and achingly hard. Now free of all his clothes, splayed on his back, there was no friction, no barrier, to keep him sane. Just consistent, blazing want.
“Rum,” he groaned as Belle continued to kiss, lick and bite his chest. “Please.”
Rum shrugged out of his own shirt, was undoing the zipper on his jeans. Gold watched them fall to the floor before he stepped out of them. His eyes came up to settle on Rum’s bulge.
“Please,” he said again, voice hoarse.
Rum made eye contact. His eyes jumped to Gold’s cock, bobbing and thick. Then his hands were on the inside of Gold’s thighs, pushing his legs apart so he could settle between them. Gold saw a flash of his pink tongue before his mouth had swallowed his cock whole.
Gold yelped, his hips jerking upwards sharply. Instead of gagging (Gold had an apology already at the ready), Rum groaned. He pulled back so he could suck the head, then swallowed him down again.
Rum moaned blissfully around him, hallowing his cheeks as he sucked. Gold whimpered, desperately trying to keep his hips still. But fuck, he was good at this. After a few minutes of bobbing on his cock, Rum swallowed, taking him deeper until he hit the back of his throat and his nose was pressed to his pubic bone.
Gold grit his teeth, not wanting to come yet. But it was hard, impossibly hard, when Rum’s mouth was so hot, so good. When Belle’s hands were skimming up and down his sides, tortiously slow.
She looked down at her husband, hungrily sucking Gold off. Her eyes were blown out completely, and she wet her lips. Almost absently, she pinched Gold’s nipple. He whined high in his throat.
“He’s so good with his mouth, isn’t he?” she said, voice low. “God, that tongue.”
Gold could only whine, and keep whining as Rum sucked harder.
“I’m there,” he tried to warn him. “Fuck, Rum, I’m—“
Rum pulled back, but he kept the head in his mouth and used his hand to wank him off. Gold came across his tongue, panting. Closing his eyes, he sunk further into the soft bed, trying to catch his breath.
“Save any for me?” He heard Belle ask.
“Sorry, love,” he said, and Gold heard a smacking of lips.
“No, you’re not.” They kissed. Belle moaned; she could taste Gold on his tongue. Fuck.
“You can have him for round two.” Rum rubbed his thighs, using them for balance as he leaned forward and gave another kiss to Gold’s hip bone.
“I’m holding you to that.”
There was the soft sound of fabric gliding against skin. Gold felt the bed shift as Belle straddled his hips, legs on either side of his thighs. He opened his eyes when Belle kissed him; she was gloriously bare. His arms wound around her shoulders, a hand burying in her hair, keeping her in place.
He expected Rum to come close, but instead he backed off. Instead, he moved behind Belle. Gold felt a wave of molten heat go through him at the thought of Belle being fucked by her husband while she lay over him, panting in his ear as she took it deep and hard.
Wanting to entice Rum, Gold ran his hands down her soft sides, over her rump. He gripped her where her arse cheeks met her leg, his pinky and ring finger over her cunt lips, and he held her open, on display. She was already so wet, he had to let go so he could get a better grip.
Belle hummed, pushing her breasts into his chest and sticking her arse up, giving her husband a better view.
“Like this, Gold?” she asked, sucking on his neck. He hoped she left a mark.
“Fuck,” Rum breathed, his eyes drawn to her open cunt. “Oh, Gold, if only you had this view.”
“Describe it to me,” Gold said.
“She’s so wet and pink. Fuck, Belle.”
Her breath caught, and she pushed her arse back. Gold guessed Rum was using his fingers on her.
“You’re so wet. Did you like that, watching us?”
“Of course.” She wiggled, spreading her legs wider, bringing her knees up as best she could. Gold spread his legs again, too, helping to keep her open. “You two look amazing together. So beautiful.”
“What else?” Gold asked. He felt fingers skim from Belle’s thighs to his. Rum cupped his balls. He gasped, feeling a thumb press into his perineum, then down to circle around his anus, before coming back up.
“And here’s you, all spent. I did that. You taste so good, Gold. I want to suck you again.”
Gold moaned as Rum pressed his soft cock against Belle’s heat. She was ready and wet and perfect.
“Fuck, I can’t wait for you to get hard.”
Belle whined, trying to get the angle right to move her clit against Gold’s pelvis. “You said I got him next.”
Rum laughed. He let go of Gold so he could run his hands over the back of Belle’s thighs. “I did. Do you want to fuck her, Gold?”
He hissed an affirmative, hands leaving imprints where they still held Belle open.
“Should we wait, Belle? Let him have you first?”
“No, God! Rum! I need it now,” she begged, wiggling. “Fuck me now.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, I’ll fuck you.” He let go, eyes turning a bit more critical so he could figure out the position. “Close your legs, Gold, so I can fit,” he ordered, softly. Gold happily acquiesced, and he watched as Rum settled behind Belle, his knees pressing into the bed in between theirs.
Slowly, he guided his cock into his wife.
Gold let go of her arse, hand moving to tip her head up, searching for her eyes. “Look at me,” he murmured, wanting to see the moment she was filled up.
Belle bit her lip in bliss. Her eyes widened slightly when Rum bottomed out. He leaned forward so he could kiss her shoulder, giving them both time to adjust to the position.
“Good?” Rum asked.
She shuddered when she pushed her hips back into his, her clit sliding along Gold’s pelvis beautifully. “Oh, that’s perfect,” she breathed, eyes locked onto his.
“I’m not going to last,” her husband warned, pulling back before fucking into her.
Belle moaned, grinding onto Gold as she leaned into her husband’s thrusting hips. “Neither will I.”
One hand in her hair, the other gripping her upper arm, Gold held his breath as he watched her. She was stunning, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes clouded over with lust.
“Are you going to come, Belle?” Gold asked her. “Does he feel good inside you? Fuck, I bet he feels so good.”
Belle could barely nod. “Deep. Hard,” she panted. “Almost there.”
Her breath caught, and she clenched hard on Rum’s cock, slamming back against him, then stilling. Her orgasm triggered his, and with a grunt, he emptied inside her, hips stuttering.
Gold pulled her down for a kiss, and she went happily, boneless and sated. Once Rum caught his breath, he pulled out, flopping down beside Gold with a sigh.
Belle tucked herself against Gold’s chest, watching her husband cool down beside them.
The silence that fell on them was easy and soft, broken only by the occasional pawing of Forte at the door.
When she mewled, Rum looked up, and it seemed like he might let her in.
“Not yet,” Belle said. “I was promised round two.”
She pushed herself up, looking down so she could see where she had been rubbing herself against Gold’s pelvis. Rum’s spend seeped out of her, slicking her way.
“Fuck,” Gold breathed, unable to tear his eyes away.
It didn’t take much longer for Gold to harden again, helped by Belle’s skillful hand. She wasted no time in mounting him. She slid all the way down his shaft. She pumped her hips, delighted at feeling him so deep.
She was so wet; so hot and wet and already filled with cum and it was a good thing Gold had climaxed once already because he wasn’t sure how he would have lasted otherwise.
As it was, he was happy to watch as Belle took him for a ride. Gold’s attention was quickly drawn to her breasts, and he watched them bounce up and down. He wanted to suckle them, feel their weight in his hands. He hadn’t paid nearly enough attention to that part of her yet.
Rum moved so his head was laying on his chest, fingers circling one of Gold’s nipples as his eyes were glued to the area Belle and him were connected. As Belle moved up and down, Rum began to kiss and nip at Gold’s pecks, then his rib cage, his abdomen. He circled his tongue inside Gold’s belly button, making his stomach clench and his hips jolt. Belle’s moving hips kept him from being able to go down any further, and he sweetly got her attention.
“Lean back a little,” he requested.
That meant she stopped moving against him, and Gold moaned in protest.
“Like this?” She was spread open again, thighs wide, hands supporting her weight where they rested on either side of Gold’s legs.
“Exactly like that.” Rum latched onto her clit and sucked. She gasped, hips bucking hard against Gold’s cock.
“Fuck, Rum,” she said, clenching.
They set up a new rhythm. Belle worked herself up and down Gold’s cock while Rum sucked at the base of him, and Gold did his best not to utterly combust. Belle ground down when she got to the bottom, and Rum’s tongue flicked up to meet her.
The closer she got to finishing, the closer she stayed, and soon all she was doing was grinding back and forth on his cock, Rum latched to her clit.
Gold’s legs spread in answer to Rum’s searching hand; he felt it close around his balls and his hips jolted in response. Fuck, but that was heaven; Belle riding his cock while Rum played with him like he was a pair of ben wa balls. He moaned, low and deep and long, when Rum tugged them down, then up against the base of him, squeezing.
His hands gripped Belle’s hips tightly as he held her against him and emptied himself into her. He couldn't even moan; she’d taken the breath straight from his lungs.
With a final but heartfelt, “fuck,” Belle clenched, thighs shaking in aftershock. Gold would forever remember the blissful smile on her face as she came on his cock.
Before she could fall over, and it looked like she might, the poor lamb—Rum was there to wrap her in his arms, and help her down. Rum pulled down the comforter with no help from them, but soon enough, they settled into bed, curled into the sheets on either side of Gold. Rum kissed his neck below his ear, entwining their legs as Belle happily murmured into his chest.
“Do you need another one?” Gold asked into Rum’s hair.
He felt the smile against his neck. “I already have everything I need.”
Gold was still boneless when he finally looked at the clock; it was late but not terribly so.
“When do you want me to leave?” He didn’t want to ask, but felt he should. Besides, he didn’t think he could manage a round three. He could barely keep his eyes open, and he felt satisfied and content in a way he hadn’t in years.
Rum mumbled something unintelligible, legs tightening around Gold’s, face pressed harder against his shoulder.
“Don’t leave,” Belle murmured, moving closer herself. She blindly tried to kiss his cheek and missed. “In the morning, Rum will make tomato on toast.”
“Oh. Okay,” he said, not needing to be convinced.
In the morning, he’d wake to Forte’s tail flicking in his face and Belle wearing his shirt, Rum still curled into his side, but for now he was content to sink into sleep.
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