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#i get the appeal of the bald man trust me i do but he’s just not my thing no hate to feyd stan’s i get it
valsnotgothstuff · 1 month
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duke leto, stilgar, gurney halleck and more lady jessica fics??
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and for reader not be related to irulan and or an atreides lol
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tealincubusspeckles · 3 months
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Over The Years
INSPIRED BY
"Seduce Me 2: The Demon War" by Michaela Laws on Steam <https://store.steampowered.com/app/461700/Seduce_Me_2_The_Demon_War/> Fan fiction Inspo.
"My Choice" by InumbraLunaest on Fanfiction.net <https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12192451/1/My-Choice> Audio Inspo.
"Blood" by InThisMoment <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ZF5m-vmDzM>
"The Magic" by Lola Blanc <https://youtu.be/XBmpvzkFwBI?si=ks9CzgrpbPy7wrso>
###
Initially, when I created this short I did not have a specific brother in mind. The more I wrote, I started to gear the narrative towards Sam slightly. The theme behind this short is growing up. When we are younger we do not think of dating someone financially stable. We want someone visually appealing, who claims to be interested in us, and swears to give us the world. As we get older and start working what we look for in our partner changes. Now, this short is not a comment about what does true love mean. Rather, it is a kind of reminder that in their 20s the brothers did not have their lives together. In essence, 18-year-old Mika slept with a 20 something who had no job, no house, and did not attend college. Granted the brothers were only here in the human world for 6 months, what's your excuse?
---
When I met him, he was unemployed and homeless. He only had a pretty face and the clothes on his back. But at the time that was enough for me because he showed me attention that boys in my school did not. He was different, and I was intrigued by the man who claimed to love me. I was not blind to other’s lust. Yet, I did not want to end up pregnant because women’s bodies change once they have kids. Also, I did not want to go through the ups and downs of labor while knowing some acne prone balding guy was the kid’s father. So, I am sorry for my weakness when I told the first hot guy to grace my presence that I loved him and hoped he was truly interested in sleeping with me. In a state of post cum clarity no I did not love this man. He was literally what the devil chased into my house. I cannot make this shit up.
Devil bait aside this steaming trash bag did not go to college. Meaning this man and his four brothers were living in my house rent-free, using electricity, toiletries, water, and eating food that my dad paid for!  Like sure the house was paid for so yay no property tax. However, other expenses fluctuate based on use. Is that not ringing alarm bells in anyone else’s mind? No? Well, damn tell me your age without telling me your age. My parents are not going to pay for five more mouths to feed. So, thanks to my grandfather and my inability to tell strays to get out of my house I have five grown ass men to feed. Five men who are home most of the flipping time! At this point, if I am not bitching to this man to get a job, I am treating my pussy like a fucking charity. What I mean is that my hole is a place his penis can run up into and have a pity party for being useless outside the bedroom. Now, hear me out, sex can pay the bills. But I should not have to subject myself to being the only fans girl or the pornstar actor’s girlfriend. I cannot explain how my mental state would tumble or how I would stop trusting this man entirely. I am prejudiced but I cannot lie to myself. At least, the guy is willing to hear me out, and he went to go get a job. This guy must love me or be willing to work for an easy lay. Either way, we have a start.
Even if we make money there are other expenses outside of bills like health insurance. Do you know not all jobs offer that and you must pay for your own? In the job world if you cannot deal with the heat you’ll crack. Let’s see how this demon adult fairs with humans who are either snowflakes or demons incarnate. It is easier than fighting for your life every day on a battlefield or having to be on high alert in case you get ambushed. Must be nice to have it easy. Whereas for me, my life is just getting started preparing before shit hits the fan. However, nothing the human world has can prepare you for the Abyssal Plains. This selfish bastard picked me knowing I would never be prepared for anything. But, what choice did I have I chose him out of every other functioning human I chose a demon. Let me tell ya, when someone says I love you, run. Run far away because that I love you will later down the line will be a floodgate of things you could never be prepared for.
That’s why I find it so funny when people ask, “hey what happens if I cheat on this being”? First off, do not claim to love someone if you plan on cheating at any point in the relationship. Save your breath. Two, be mindful of whom you bring to bed and what you say during bed. Mistaken identity and regret are not good looks on anyone. Three, be aware of your relationship. Communicate with your partner about what roles you expect each other to play and consider the goal of your relationship. Is your relationship short term where you date for the feel and experience of something new? Or is your relationship geared towards settling down, building a family, and being there when beauty fades?  I grew up in a household where I love you was reserved for when my parent was sick or stressed and not sure what to do with their me. Although, I say I love you easy to my friends and my lover, I never considered the weight of it. I still cannot say I love Sam with all my heart. No. But, I can say I love that he tries to be a good man and I hate that he tried so hard to keep me around.
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zoyalais-moved · 3 years
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You Forget to be Clever
World: modern setting, assassins au
Ship: Zoyalai
Word Count: 1281
asassins au as requested by @storm-dog-pirate <3
want one?
AO3
Zoya was never one to complain about a job, but this was low on her list of favorites. It wasn't on the list at all, really.
She never did like masquerade balls.
But at least this time she wasn't expected to dance- no, this time her mission was simple, and this time, she was alone.
The hall was shrouded in dim, golden light that fell from the many hanging chandeliers, and red and gold silk was draped across the walls in a style she couldn't name the origin of but found rather appealing. Her mark was dancing, she'd been told he liked to dance. How exactly she would get him off the dance floor and alone for this mission, she wasn't certain.
Zoya watched his form as he led his partner through the steps, half his face hidden by a mask in the shape of a red fox, ears perked up in calm alert. She cocked her head at him, curious. She hadn't been told much about her mark, just that he'd interfered with their agency's plans one too many times and had since become a nuisance. 
Morozova hadn't said it outright, but she suspected there was more to the story. 
How much can I learn before the posion stops his heart?
Not much.
She glanced at the large clock hanging on the wall behind her,a great, ever-expanding thing that must've needed two or three men just to bring into the hall. Nearly twelve. 
I'm running out of time .
Which was not an option. Zoya wasn't just the best assassin- she had killed the best. She had reached her standing through nothing less than raw determination, and a hardened heart. And this man would not be the one to bring her down.
"May I have this dance?" 
The voice was calm, the barest hint of teasing beneath the polite request, and it made Zoya frown as she turned to face it's owner, a refusal already on her tongue.
She froze when her eyes met a pair of bright hazel eyes, peeking out behind a red snout. 
So eager for death, little prince, the voice in her head mocked. Zoya let a smile spread across her red painted lips, adjusting her purple dragon mask and letting him take her gloved hand in his.
"It would be my pleasure."
She watched the crowd as Lantsov watched her, the way all men did, no doubt. It was a good thing her dress dipped low and the slit in the silver fabric gave a good view of her legs as she walked. 
She would need to get him alone soon.
"Are you enjoying the party?" He asked, hand settling at her waist as he pulled her close. Zoya frowned when she realized he hadn't actually been studying her form, his eyes caught instead on the cuff at her wrist, the one that concealed her weapon- Genya's greatest invention yet.
"A bit disappointed, really," she said, draping her hand over his shoulder, pulling him closer.
"Not in the company, I hope?" He asked good-naturedly, but a smile threatened to pull at his lips as his eyes moved on from the cuff and latched onto her own eyes, as though he found this whole charade very amusing.
"More in the place," she admitted, letting her lashes flutter- averted eyes, touch of a flirtatious grin, leaning closer- playing with men was her favorite pastime. "Though I suppose that could change."
His brows were hidden by the red mask, but she could tell a single brow had been raised.
"If, say, I were to show you some of the nicer parts of the house?" He offered, grinning slyly. There we go, Zoya thought. She didn't have time to waste, and it seemed she wasn't the only one in a rush. 
"Perhaps," she allowed.
"And then," she didn't notice the gleam in his eyes until he had spun them around and dipped her, causing her fingers to tighten on his shirt, holding onto him. His lips brushed against her ear, his next words a deliberate whisper. "you could complete Morozova's mission?"
It was a good thing he was holding onto her because Zoya froze completely.
He chuckled lightly, straightening and bringing her along with him, resuming the dance as though nothing had changed. As though her heart wasn't beating wildly in her chest, fear gripping her body.
"I'm not sure I understand," she tried, but the words must've sounded hollow, and when his eyes met hers again, she had a new description in mind for them. Clever . Clever as the mask of the animal he wore.
Saints, she should have asked Morozova for more details. More time.
"Well you aren't the first to try and kill me," he said, almost thoughtfully, "just the prettiest." 
He punctuated his words with a wink, grinning.
Zoya wanted to scream.
The only reason he would be so calm… was if he had anticipated the attack.
Which meant she was the one in danger now. She glanced around the room as subtly as she could- there, two guards, one short and the other large and threatening, both of them watching her.
"He doesn't trust you," Lantsov added, sensing her shock.
That made Zoya look back at him. She eyed him warily, still refusing to give herself away. 
"Morozova, that is. If he did, he wouldn't have set this place to blow up in-" he glanced behind her at the clock before adding, "six minutes."
"What?" Zoya stopped completely, her heart dropping to her feet. A couple bumped into them from behind and Lantsov smoothly turned them back around. He was gently leading them through the steps, Zoya hardly aware of her own movements.
"The clock," he explained, eyes softening ever so slightly, "it's connected to three bombs that had been ready to blow at the strike of twelve."
Her gaze dropped to the smooth tile they were dancing on before snapping back up to his, eyes narrowing.
"He'll be dead by midnight, I'll make sure of it."
"Of that, Nazyalensky, I have no doubt."
"Liar." She said simply.
Lantsov sighed, sounding almost disappointed. 
"Why would you invite this many people if you knew the floors would go up in- what, six minutes? You wouldn't endanger them. You wouldn't endanger yourself."
"Five," he corrected, "and obviously not, I plan to die fat and happy and bald, and not dressed in such finery. Preferably many decades in the future."
"That isn't a choice for you to make," she snarled.
"Yet you were so ready to make it for me," he mused, an edge to his words. 
Zoya swallowed, her gaze running from the clock, to the ground, to Lantsov. Back to the clock. 
It had been five minutes to midnight when they started dancing. The numbers hadn't changed.
"You disabled it," she said quietly.
"I did it myself, actually." 
"Then why am I still alive?"
Lantsov watched her for a moment, and she realized the music had stopped- not stopped, ended. The dance floor was clearing up, but she couldn't move, and he made no effort to abandon it either.
After a moment he stepped back, taking her hand, her cuff gleaming as he raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of her knuckles.
"Because now, when I ask you to meet me in three days at the wearhouse down the street, I know you'll agree."
"Why would I do that?" She asked, her voice not holding the venom she'd intended.
"Curiosity," he offered, stepping away, eyes gleaming, a clever man concealed by a clever fox, disappearing into the crowd as he walked backwards. "And the shared desire to take down Morozova."
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cowboyx2 · 4 years
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The Girl Behind The Screens
Prt 1
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Summary: You get caught by the police and your friend from the FBI gets her team to help you out.
Warning: Curse words, and obviously typos
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Reader
Penelope Garcia was taking a small power nap in her office when she was jolted awake by a phone call. “Penelope Garcia at your service!” She chirped into her mobile phone which was unusual.
“Pen, it’s me...” you practically whispered into the phone. “Y/N? Oh my god this isn’t your number!! What’s wrong!?” Garcia was the worried to say the least. You and her worked side by side in her days as the black queen. “They got me. Look I know you work with the FBI now so I thought I should let you know. Don’t go and try to d-“ you were cut off by an obviously fuming Garcia.
“Where. The. Hell. Are. You?” You let out a chuckle knowing how silly she looks when she’s mad. “Quantico’s police station. Shit, I gotta go.” With the beeps on the other end of the phone Penelope grabbed her bags and leaped out the door.
“Woah there, Babygirl! Where you going off to in the middle of work?” Derek Morgan said as he tried to stop her from barreling past him by holding onto her shoulders. “I do not have time for this Derek!” She pushed past him into the elevator.
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An hour had past since Penelope had gotten to the station, she now stood sitting on a small bench waiting for her unit chief to arrive. The police weren’t releasing you and Penelope maybe had shouted in their face a little, just her luck they called her boss. Aaron entered the station with very concerned team behind him.
“Penelope, what’s going on?” Derek had dropped the pet names and had gone straight into worried friend mode. “The police won’t let me bail out my friend! She’s been sitting in there for a day and they only gave her a phone call now. She’s all alone and and-“ she was cut off by her own tears. Morgan pulled her into a hug while a police officer came up to them.
“Hello Agent Hotchner. Uhm” he glanced down at a crying Penelope. “Well you see she busted in here saying she needed to bail out a women were holding. We tried to explain the bail hadn’t been set yet because we were actually waiting for the FBI to come question her.” He sighed.
“Sir is the person in question Y/N L/N?” Hotch ask as his face stayed stoic. The officer let out a cough “Yes sir.” After Hotch explained his team was supposed to question her later today they were cleared to see her.
They all gathered into a small room that had a two way mirror that peered into a slightly larger room. In that said room was an upset girl who was wearing a striped sweater and black cuffed jeans. She looked to be quite annoyed with the cuffs she was in, her face held a scowl.
“What do we know about this girl?” Rossi peering past Penelope to look through the window. “Her names Y/N L/N, she has an eidetic memory like Reid. She worked along side Penelope when she was the black queen, a week before we caught Penelope she was convicted of assaulting a police officer and won her appeal after 4 months in prison. She has also been convicted of various other crimes all that were hacking related with minor sentences.” Hotch let out a sigh. Reid looked over to Garcia. “You’re friends with criminals?” She shot him a glare.
“Oh please, technically I am one too, I just decided to join the FBI instead of going to prison.” Penelope was fed up with this. Emily was curious though she watched the girl fiddle around in her seat, she was pretty. “Uhm why- uh I mean what is she being charged with?” Emily tried to hide her blushing face by coughing, let’s say it didn’t work.
“Same as Garcia.” Hotchs answer was cold his eyes didn’t leave the girl in the room.
————————
You were jingling you’re handcuffs as if that would somehow help the situation you were in. In defeat you slump down putting your head on the table when you here the door open. You were expecting some lame ass cop but to your surprise it’s your long time friend Penelope Garcia!
“You work fast.” You quickly remark while siding down in your chair. She smiles and throws her arms around you, your hands were occupied so it was a little awkward but nice nonetheless. “We’re gonna get you outta here!” She seems hopeful no she seems certain.
You look over to a black haired women and a muscular bald man. They were her team but you knew they were profilers, they judged your every move and made assumptions off them. You were already agitated by the fact of you being arrested but now you were being judged and watched. “Ah, Derek Morgan! You’re the man who trusts few closes others off. Love that, I relate.” You point to the muscular man. He opens his mouth but start again before he can say anything.
“Emily Prentiss, you overcompensate and hide your feelings for what you think is for the betterment of the team.” You pause and smile “But I will say you’re quite beautiful”
Emily was caught off guard by your bluntness, as you continued to list all the flaws of everyone else on the team. She was a blushing mess but tried to hide it to the best of her abilities.
“Oh and last but not least is Spencer Reid. Who hides behind his intellect to ignore his lack of social cues.” You let out a small smile though Penelope looks unimpressed. “Really Y/N, this isn’t helping you!” You sigh to look at her and mumble a weak sorry. Then the door swings open to reveal none other than Hotch.
“You did a background check on us?” His face keeps a stern look but you could feel the hint of confusion in his voice. “I had to make sure Pen was in good hands after I got outta jail.” He glances at your friend.
“Work with us or go to prison, your choice.” He wasn’t asking, yes it came out of his mouth but it was Penelope who was really saying it. The look of her glossed over eyes broke you, you didn’t want that life but her eyes pleaded. “What do I have to do?”
Before you knew it you were accepting the job offer and getting uncuffed. At least that agent was hot. Maybe Emily thought you were too, maybe.
This is part one of a new series! My Spencer Reid series is on hiatus for now because my dumb brain can’t think of what to add. Unfortunately I also deleted an entire fic I wrote for Spencer Reid accidentally, I’m in the process of rewriting it so look out for that! Thanks for the support.
-Much Love From A Gay Kermit
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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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hookedonapirate · 4 years
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Accidentally on Purpose
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Summary: They shared one incredible night together five months ago, and after she disappeared from his life without a trace, except for the intoxicating scent on her pillow, he never thought he'd see her again.
That is until his colleague, David, sets him up on a blind date with his sister.
When fate brings them together again, she's full of surprises. Two to be exact.
A/N: This is something I've been working on, but I have no idea what inspired me to write this, it's just a concept I've been wanting to write that popped into my head quite randomly. This will most likely be a 2 or 3 parter, depending on the muse. She holds the reins here, I just do what she tells me to do lol.
Thank you @onceuponaprincessworld​ for looking it over and for your feedback!!!
Also on: Ao3 I FF.N
Rated: M
Part 1
“Just because you’re pregnant, doesn’t mean you can't have a little fun.”
 Emma rolls her eyes. It's her fault they're having this conversation though. “Yeah, except you’re forgetting an important part of the equation—I need a man in order to have that kind of fun.” She never should've confessed to her sister-in-law she's been feeling erotically charged lately. “No one wants to bang a pregnant woman.”
 Though the crafty woman pretty much figured it out on her own, Emma didn’t need to confirm Mary Margaret’s suspicions. Even if she was spot on. She caught Emma flirting with a bald man at the grocery store, which according to Mary Margaret, was a dead giveaway. Not only did Emma rarely, if ever, flirt with random strangers, but also, the guy wasn’t even her type. He wasn’t attractive, which didn’t really matter to Emma in the first place, and she's not against men being bald, but Emma enjoys a full head of hair on a guy, something she can yank on and pull while he’s thrusting into her. And that day she was even considering settling on the idea of using his ears as something to grab onto, but as Mary Margaret pointed out after having to drag her ass out of the grocery store, the man was very creepy, which further lessened his overall appeal. Having gone through a pregnancy of her own before giving birth to Leo, Mary Margaret knew all the stages; she knew the telltale signs of a horny, pregnant woman. And Emma’s been displaying most, if not all of them.
 During her first trimester she never would’ve imagined she'd be horny during pregnancy, never would've thought it was possible. She felt miserable for three goddamn months; she was constantly exhausted and nauseous and rushing to the bathroom to vomit. So perhaps Emma’s unpleasant experience has made her second trimester all the better. Perhaps it’s the reason she’s feeling so wanton lately. She doesn’t feel shitty; she has this sudden burst of energy and wants to enjoy this golden time of her pregnancy before the last few grueling months creep up on her, before she’s feeling uncomfortable and constantly drained once again.
 A conspiratory smile crawls over Mary Margaret’s lips.
  Crap. 
 Whatever’s brewing in that dirty little mind of her sister-in-law's cannot possibly be good. She appears to be innocent, but Emma knows her more than anyone, well except David. She knows when Mary Margeret’s conspiring something, and it rarely leads to something good, or at least something Emma approves of. “There is this one guy David works with at the office... he might be interested.”
 Ha, she knew it! She knew Mary Margaret had something up her sleeve, and now she’s involving her brother too? This isn't good. Far from it. 
 She doesn’t even want to think about her sister-in-law having a discussion with her brother about how horny and desperate she is. There is no fucking way Emma is going through with this.
 “What’s that supposed to mean? Does he have some sort of fetish for pregnant women?” The thought of this guy having said fetish intrigues her though if she’s being honest. Emma’s not looking for a long-term relationship, she just wants to have one satisfying night with her legs wrapped around a man as he drives into her, or as she rides him, seeing as she’s too far along to lie on her back during sex. That’s another reason why hooking up during her pregnancy is a terrible idea. It’s not sexy. There are only so many positions Emma can engage in and only so much energy she will have for any sexual encounters she may have. An all-nighter is definitely out of the question.
 “No,” Mary Margaret screeches, and then further ponders Emma’s question. “At least, not that I’m aware of. I just meant he’s a gentleman. He didn't even want to go through with this in the first place—”
 “Oh great, that makes me feel so much better,” Emma snaps with a frustrated sigh. Wait. Emma mulls over her statement. He didn't want to through with this? What the hell? Emma's eyes shoot daggers at her sister-in-law. “Wait a minute, you told him about me? You told him I was horny and pregnant?!”
 “No, of course not!” Margaret Margaret argues defensively, placing her hands on her hips. “I wasn't finished. He’s not looking for a casual hookup, he had an unpleasant experience that completely rattled him. In fact, he’s still not over it, but he agreed to go on a date with you because we told him what a great person you are and that you just needed to get out and have a relaxing evening with a good man.”
 A shiver jolts down Emma’s spine. She doesn’t feel like a great person, quite the opposite actually. She had the chance to let a good man into her life. But she was too scared and blew it. She was too scared of being wrong about him, like how she was wrong about Neal. 
 The night she conceived the twins, she'd witnessed traces of something that could’ve developed into something good. Really good. If only she’d been willing to take the next step. The right step, of course. Because while she did take a step—she took many steps that night—she stepped right out the door of the motel room. She hadn't told him because she'd been embarrassed about it, but she lives with her brother and sister-in-law, so there was no way she was bringing over a man to have sex with him in her room. Even if she were that desperate, her room was in chaos at the time because she was still in the process of unpacking. And he was staying with a friend at the time, so they agreed to just get a motel. When she missed her period and discovered she was pregnant, even if she wanted to tell him, she didn’t even know how to contact him.
 They hadn’t even exchanged names that night. And she's regretted it every day since then. She regrets it because she can't stop thinking about him and really wants to see if her intuition was correct. She wants to see if they really could've had something good. If she's being honest with herself, she wants someone she can start a family with; she's tired of living in her brother's guestroom. At least now she has the twins. She always knew she'd have children someday, she just always pictured herself adopting like David's mother had adopted her and got her out of those foster homes. She didn't think she would get pregnant after a one-night stand with a random stranger she met at the bar. He bought her a drink, and the second her eyes met with his intense blue ones from across the room, she knew she was doomed. And she was right. They had an instant connection, and the chemistry between them was off the charts. She went to a motel with him for a good fuck, a really good fuck. But that was all she was looking for at the time—all she was capable of—and he’d been willing to give that to her no matter how much she knew he wanted more. 
 Fortunately, she woke up before he did, when the last vestiges of the night were evident through the window, and she ran. 
 When it came to relationships, short, lighthearted flings were her modus operandi, but one-night stands were rare. After what happened with Neal, she barricaded her heart and became reluctant to trust people. She typically needed time and many dates to trust a man enough to share her body with. But, all work and no play had drained her energy and sanity and made her cranky. Being a bail bonds person was a full-time job; she hadn’t even taken a vacation after she moved from Boston to Storybrooke. And with this complete stranger, it took no time at all for her to realize he would be a generous lover and would treat her with respect. More than that, she knew he would make her feel good. And her instincts had proven spot on. He made her feel incredible. 
 She could still feel his touch on her skin days later, she could still taste his kiss and feel his lips on her skin when he’d explored every inch of her body, every curve, every nook and cranny, leaving nothing untouched or unexplored. She felt the satisfying ache in her core from when he drove into her so rough and so deep, his sizable length fitting her so perfectly like a lock and the matching key. The images from that night still haunt her to this day; she swells and flushes every time he invades her thoughts. But she knew running away was best. Or so she thought.
 Even before she missed her period, she kept hoping fate would somehow bring him in her life again, but it hasn't happened yet. She doubts it ever will. Now more than ever, she wishes she’d at least gotten his name. She doesn't even know the name of her babies’ father! How fucked up is that? At least she knows without a doubt he’s the father. Had she slept with anyone else within that two-week timeframe, she could’ve been on one of those tv shows Mary Margeret watches, like Maury, where the mother doesn't know who the father of her child is among several men. Emma knows very much who the father is, considering he’s the first guy she’s slept with in a year, and the last guy she slept with. So yeah, she knows he’s the father. She just doesn’t know him. 
 And every day that passes, every day she carries these tiny babies in her womb knowing the father has no clue he created them with her, is just another day she carries around this guilt. Not for getting pregnant, but because the twins will never get the chance to grow up knowing their father. Her little ducklings will never have those precious moments with him, and it’s all her fault. She deprived her babies of that the night she walked out of the room. She deprived him of the chance to know his children. That regret will haunt her and harbor inside her until its poisonous venom creeps through her blood and completely consumes her. She’ll carry around this guilt for the rest of her life.
 ~*~
 Killian is a nervous wreck as he pulls in front of the restaurant, dragging a hand through his hair for the hundredth time, wondering why he agreed to this. Well, he knows why he agreed; he was promised he’d meet a beautiful, feisty woman who needed a good man in her life. He was a willing participant, don't get him wrong, but the pressure of it all is making him sweat under his suit jacket and dress shirt. The pressure of not screwing this up, of not doing anything that might award him with a fist in the face from his date's brother.
 David said he didn’t normally set his sister up on dates. He was usually against her dating anyone, let alone a man she didn’t even know, but since his wife, Mary Margaret, was on a mission to set her up, he needed to have a say in the selection process. And if his kid sister was going out with anyone, who better than his good friend and trusted colleague? Killian had never met the sister; she lived in Boston until over five months ago when she moved into her brother’s guestroom in Storybrooke for a fresh start. Killian didn’t receive many of the details of why she left, he only knew it was time for her to leave Boston and return to her hometown. He’s really surprised he hasn’t met her yet, but David says she works a lot and is rarely at home. She’s a bail bonds person, always tracking down her next mark. Well, she was until she became too pregnant to chase her marks. Now she has a desk job at the station, or so he’s been told.
 Killian takes a moment for his nerves to calm a bit before he grabs the red rose from the passenger seat and gets out of the car.
 Some say it's odd to take a pregnant woman on a first date, but why? Because she might have mood swings? Killian has found pregnant women to be exquisite, not only because they’re carrying around a growing, breathing human being inside them, but because he loves when a mother-to-be puts her hands on her belly and speaks to her baby in a gentle, motherly tone. And if she’s not in a pleasant mood, what with hormones, aches and pains and generally feeling unpleasant, well there are many ways to help her feel better. It would just give him an excuse to take more care of her and pamper her. Not that he’d need one of course, but generally women are stubborn in that way. They don’t like to be treated like damsels in distress, they like to do things themselves, take care of themselves. Killian likes to remind any woman he's with it's okay for her to be spoiled once in a while, and if it were up to him, he would spoil her all the time.
 So when David told him his sister was pregnant with twins, he was not at all deterred from going on this date, he's just wondering what happened to the father. He has no idea, but he didn’t want to stick his nose where it didn’t belong.  He's actually honored to go on a date with her. And he plans on showing her the gentleman she deserves.
 He doesn't realize exactly how nervous he is though until he's about to walk inside the restaurant and meet the sister David went on and on about. It's been far too long since he's been on an actual date, which doesn't really help with his anxiety. He adjusts his tie and pauses at the door to take a deep, shaky before pulling the door open. 
  Here goes nothing.
  ~*~
 Emma’s going to kill her sister-in-law.
 But then she’d have to explain to her brother what happened to his wife, and she’d have to explain to Leo what happened to his mother. They’d never forgive her, so she supposes she won’t, but for goodness sake, why did Mary Margaret set her up on this blind date?!
 Emma's sitting at the bar in this fancy Italian restaurant, staring at the drink menu, wondering if her date would be bothered if she ordered water. 
 She sighs and sets down the menu. She never should’ve agreed to this. 
 Despite Emma's best efforts, Mary Margaret had talked her into it. And she’s completely terrified. Terrified of what this man might think of her for being a soon to be single mom after a very irresponsible one-night stand, she wonders how he’d think she looks naked if it even got that far. Terrified he’d regret sleeping with a pregnant woman. Terrified he’d think she was a lousy lay. It terrifies her so much, it’s depressing. But in the end, the possibility of forgetting everything for a night, of getting caught up in a night of passion is too appealing for Emma to pass up. She almost feels selfish for going through with this, but it’s not like she would be the only one deriving pleasure from this; she would make sure he was satisfied as well. Plus, he's getting sex with no strings, so she can't feel too bad for the guy. “She was just using me for sex and I fucking hated it,” said no guy ever.
 She places a hand on her belly, rubbing her palm over the soft fabric of her dress in soothing circles. “Why am I doing this again?” she mumbles softly at her belly as if the twins could hear her or even supply her with an answer or some words of encouragement. 
 Emma hates dating in general. She hates wondering whether the guy will like her. She hates having to dress up and think of something interesting to talk about. She hates having to behave in a certain way, wondering how the guy truly acts when he’s not trying to impress a woman. Because no one shows their true colors on a first date. 
 Dating is like interviewing for a job. Whether you’re a suitable match doesn’t matter, it’s all about how you sell yourself. You may not be completely qualified or good enough, but if you can convince the other person you are, then chances are, they’re none the wiser until it’s too late. Until they’re far too invested in the relationship to care or do anything about it. Dating is all about how much you can trick the other person into falling in love with you. And if you’re not looking for love, it’s about tricking the other person into having sex with you. 
 Has she mentioned she hates dating? 
 What’s worse is going on a blind date where you don’t even know the person beforehand and worse yet, she hates going on a blind date while she's five months pregnant. So why she agreed to this, she has no clue.
 Her mind goes back to the conversation she had with Mary Margaret before she left for this stupid fancy restaurant. 
  “Most dates that begin at a fancy restaurant almost always end in a hotel room.” 
 “A bar works just fine,” Emma mumbles, suppressing a smirk. Though it wasn't exactly a hotel, it was a motel.
 “What's that?” Mary Margaret asks, looking up from zipping the back of Emma's dress.
 “Nothing,” Emma shakes her head, trying to stay calm as she studies herself in the mirror, seconds away from calling this entire thing off. She looks like a blue whale. “I may be pregnant and horny as fuck, but I'm not going back to a hotel with this guy. I don't even know him.” Which is a lame excuse considering she didn't know the guy who’d knocked her up. She didn't even know his name. Which is very unfortunate because when her twins eventually grow up and ask their mom who their father is, Emma won't even have a name to supply them with, only a face to describe. A very handsome face, but still only a face. “I’m only doing this because I don’t want to hurt the guy's feelings. I'm not sleeping with him on the first date.”
  Mary Margaret laughs. 
  Emma arches a brow at her sister-in-law's reflection in the mirror.
  “That's what I said before my first date with your brother. But things definitely did not happen the way I planned. He ended up charming the pants right off me.” 
  Emma groans at her sister-in-law, her nose wrinkled in disgust. "I so did not need to know that. Besides, that was different. You weren't five months pregnant, or pregnant with twins! David wasn't going on a date with a blue whale!"
  Mary Margaret scolds her for saying those things and places a hand on Emma’s shoulder urging her to turn toward her. When Emma faces her begrudgingly, Mary Margaret cups her cheeks in her palms. “One, you are not a whale, you are a beautiful and glowing mother to be, and two,” she smirks, “don’t worry, you'll thank me later.”
  Emma rolls her eyes and walks away. “I doubt it.”
 ~*~
 Killian tells the maitre d’ he’s meeting someone here and gives her his date’s name before he’s led to the bar. 
 He swallows the large lump in his throat when he sees the woman David described as his sister. She’s sitting at the bar, her long, golden hair pulled into a ponytail, and she’s wearing a black dress, her fingers curled around the glass of clear liquid on the bar top, which he assumes is water. He pulls the rose in front of him, donning his best, charming smile.
 “Emma?”
 “That’s me,” she replies and grabs her purse before rising from the stool, still holding the glass. 
 When she turns around, his heart actually stops beating, his mouth falls open and he blinks to make sure he’s not dreaming. He almost drops the rose in his hand.
 Bloody hell. It's her. 
 He can tell she’s equally shocked as she places her hand on her protruding belly, staring at him like a deer in headlights.
 “You’re Emma?” he asks again, still not believing his eyes or his luck. He never thought he'd see her again.
 She nods, barely.
  Then he whispers faintly, “I’m Killian.”
81 notes · View notes
peachyydesires · 4 years
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Female bartender x Keiji Shinogi? I feel like it’d be so cute 🥺
The Bar (Keiji x Reader) 
a/n: aaa this is so late! sorry anon, my wifi was out all day yesterday and i never got the chance to post this! i made it a little longer than my usual fics, and i agree this was definitely a cute pairing and i enjoyed writing it a lot!! thank you for being my first request too! also, to the other request in my box, don’t worry, i’m getting started on part 2 right now 😉
summary: at the local bar you work at, keiji walks in and ends up staying at the bar until closing time.
   You weren’t exactly expecting to meet your soulmate at the local bar you worked every night at. Hell, you weren’t even expecting to meet an appealing guy there out of all the disgusting, foul alcoholics that you merely considered ‘regulars’. 
   Until he walked in.
   It was just like any other night at the bar; it was slow-paced at first, with a few lonely middle-aged men and women alike slowly beginning to crowd into the bar once it opened. You usually sat in the breakroom during this time, especially since your coworkers would force you to handle the rush hours by yourself while they hid in the backroom for an hour or two. But this time, out of all the days they could be sick on, one of your coworkers was out on a Friday night. This meant that only you and your other faculty member, Diana, would be on service that entire night. 
   This is going to be a long-ass night. You thought as you silently finished polishing up the counter. The first few people in the bar would usually be out before the chaos started, so there wasn’t much to do while you waited for the night to truly begin.
   A few hours passed by, and you could’ve sworn that service was lighter than usual. Diana was the bar’s pride and joy, and for some reason she actually enjoyed making drinks; the mental pain of memorizing ingredients, recipes, and faces was always something you were forced to deal with, especially on a loud day like this. 
   But luckily, Diana was taking care of almost everything; she was a blur behind the counter, grabbing glasses and bottles of alcohol at the same time only to put them away as fast as she had grabbed them. You couldn’t tell whether she was trying to do fancy tricks or not, but at one point she balanced an open bottle of beer on her head as the rest of the bar cheered.
   You smiled, shaking your head as you wandered over to the corner of the bar, away from the crowd and your coworker. Diana had always been a crowd pleaser, but you couldn’t blame her with all the extra tips she earned from it. With nothing else to do, you propped your elbow up on the counter and began aimlessly daydreaming. Your expression was completely blank as you stared at the entrance to the bar, not fully paying attention until another pair of eyes locked on your’s.
   You immediately snapped out of your trance and watched the new man walk into the bar. He had messy, dyed blonde hair and a tired yet laid back look in his eyes. He was definitely taller than you, and you couldn’t help but stare at his arm muscles for longer than you should have. 
   You automatically nodded at him and smiled, and your heart swooned as soon as he smiled back. You scolded yourself in your head once you noticed this; it was only routine for bartenders to nod at anyone who entered the bar, but you couldn’t help but hope that this time would be different.
   Half-expecting him to immediately head for Diana, you turned around and began reorganizing the glasses behind the counter. It wasn’t until he was leaning up against the other side and he cleared his throat that you finally noticed him. 
   Well, it wasn’t exactly an ideal situation. 
   You jumped with an empty glass in your hand, not expecting to hear a voice other than Diana’s so close to your side from out of nowhere. You spun around to face him, your cheeks dusted with a light fairy pink. But you were too sudden with your movements and the glass slipped out of your hand, falling quickly towards the ground until you managed to catch it at the last second. 
   Slowly standing back up, you let out a small huff as you placed the glass back on the counter and faced the new man, who was now sitting on one of the stools and had a wide, amused smirk spread out on his face.
   “Sorry for scaring ya’, cutie.” He apologized flirtatiously, his drained expression brightening as he watched you carefully.
    You rolled your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you spoke, “I haven’t seen you around here before. Just moved in?”
   He shook his head, mirroring your smile as he spoke, “You must not get into trouble too much, huh? I’m a cop, but I guess you could say this is my first time here.”
   “You’re very bold for flirting with the bartender then, detective. What can I get ya?” 
   “Hmm, I’ll take a shot of whiskey, your choice.” 
   “Can you hold your liquor?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. You couldn’t tell whether he was just being arrogant or if he was serious; your version of a weak shot could be a hard knockout for him. 
   But it was that teasing smile that got you in the end as he nodded, his tired eyes focused on you and only you; you just couldn’t put your finger on what it was about him that made your heart swoon so far. You turned around, your cheeks flushing red as you quickly grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the shelf along with a shot glass. You weren’t sure how long he would be there, despite your hopes, so you chose a well-known yet mild brand. 
   Pretending to take a long time to pour the ‘heavy’ whiskey bottle, you took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm the fire raging in your cheeks. You had never gotten this flustered before over a customer- maybe once or twice, in order to milk a good tip, but this time was different. 
   You finally turned around and set down the shot in front of him. His gaze hadn’t fazed at all; he was still staring right ahead, watching your every movement. You took a second to glance at Diana, who was still doing her signature bar tricks. Why is he even over here? Maybe he just doesn’t like the crowd? Or he wants to get drunk as soon as possible so he can leave-
   “You’re wondering why I’m not over there, aren’t ya?” His voice suddenly interrupted your thoughts, and you snapped your head back to look over at him in shock. He had the same lazy smile spread on his face as he studied your reaction. You sputtered for words, unable to talk as he went on, “You seemed interesting, less...Showy like your coworker over there. Plus, you learn something over the years as an officer.” 
   He winked at you, then looked down at the shot. You had forgotten about your job and responsibilities for a hot second, and it took you a moment to regain your words before you asked, “Cash or tab?”
   “Mmm, tab. I trust you enough to give me back my card.” He teased as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his debit card, handing it directly to you in exchange for the shot. As he downed it, you swiped it. 
   “I’m guessing that’s the last I’ll see you tonight then?” You asked, casually leaning back on the cabinets behind you. 
   He shook his head, a careless grin on his face, “Of course not. I guess I’m just not a real big party guy, much like you.” He nodded at Diana, only there wasn’t an ounce of malice in his expression as he was merely joking around. 
   You shook your head, an uncontrollable smile staying glued to your face as you rolled your eyes playfully, “I guess you’re going to have to be my top priority then, huh? You better give me a good tip.” You teased, unconsciously twirling a strand of hair around your finger.
   “I think I’m pretty high maintenance,” He joked, “Are you sure you can handle me, little lady?” 
   “Of course.” 
   The night went by in a blur. You soon learned that his name was Keiji Shinogi, and the entire night was spent talking and serving him. He was a rather simple guy; he didn’t really order any flashy drinks, and his menu seemed to only consist of shots, gin and tonics, and margaritas. 
   Not too many people ended up coming into the bar that night. Most beelined for Diana, while the others only came to you for a quick shot or two before leaving. It wasn’t until a drunk, creepy middle-aged man came up to the bar that your conversation with Keiji was interrupted.
   You saw him from the corner of your eye at first; he had been lingering in the corner, away from Diana’s view with his gaze locked on you. You were beginning to sweat a little- while Keiji’s company was comforting, the other man just radiated trouble. 
   Most guys at bars were like this. Spine-chilling, usually balding, and just a general eerie aura they gave off that always put you off, especially when you were serving them.
   Keiji seemed to have noticed this. He could see your shoulders visibly tensing up and you began to get quieter. Your eyebrows were furrowed and you were beginning to anxiously play with your fingers. Your eyes would wander away from him more and more, cautiously watching the other, middle-aged man as he sat there on the stool like a puppy dog begging for your attention. 
   “Are you-” He started, but was soon cut off as the ominous man came up to the bar, waving around his card with a toothy grin on his face. He reeked of alcohol, and his tangled, graying hair was matted all over his egg-shaped head. “Ey’ preetty laady, ca..care for me t..to buy you a drank?” The man slurred, nearly hunching over the counter. He was carrying a mostly empty beer bottle in his hand, and there seemed to be fading bruises on his knuckles. His clothes were more worn for wear, and dirt filled the space underneath his lengthy fingernails. 
   You gulped, glancing over at Keiji for a moment before immediately turning your attention on the new man. You cleared your throat, and attempted to politely shake your head to his request as you responded, “I’m sorry, sir, but that’s against policy.” 
   “Wha...What? A gen-gentle man trying to buuuy a laaady a drink? What’sss so wrong about th-that?” The man’s look switched between three expressions: arrogance, confusion, and anger. 
   It was the anger that really scared you. The bar often got people like this, but every situation was just as dangerous as the last. Usually you had security to kick them out, but as you frantically searched the room with your eyes, you couldn’t find the team anywhere.
   Little did you know that your security was actually sitting right in front of you.
   Shifting your weight anxiously, your fingers still fiddled behind the counter as you tried to think of a calm response. With your attention focused on the man, you didn’t notice as Keiji leaned over the counter and looked at your hand movements. He could already tell you were extremely uncomfortable, and he had had about the final straw with him.
   “Welll? Are..Aren’t you going to saa-” 
   “Leave.”
   A hush fell around the corner of the bar as you sharply looked over at Keiji. What in the world is he doing? You thought as he suddenly stood up, soon towering over the skinny, middle-aged man. He obviously looked scared as he refused to make eye contact with him, but the overpowering alcohol in his system was only fueling his confidence. 
   “W..Why should I beee..Be the one t-to leave, eh tough g...guy? I did nun’ wroong!” He clenched his fist and waved it around threateningly, but Keiji seemed rather unfazed. In one swift movement, he had pulled out his ID badge and was showing it to the man.
   “You’re clearly bothering her, can’t you tell? She already declined your offer and informed you that it’s against policy for you to buy her a drink, so just leave her alone, ya hear me?” He paused, eyeing the man up and down before continuing, “Tell me, did you drive here yourself?”
   The man let out a rather obnoxious snort, “Offf course I..I did! R-Right out therrreee, that’s me car o..over there!” He pointed proudly at an old, muffed up car parked crookedly in front of the bar. 
   Keiji didn’t even turn around to look at the parking lot as he continued, “Considering you haven’t ordered any drinks here yet, you must have been driving while you were intoxicated. I can arrest you for that, and you’re clearly the odd one out here as they’ll take our word over yours.” He nodded over at you for a quick second, but his attention was completely focused on the threat in the room. 
   The man looked practically ready to explode. His pale, wrinkly skin was beet red and his nose was scrunched up like a warthog. His dirty fingernails were digging deeper and deeper into the skin of the palm of his hand as he was at a loss for words. 
   He eventually gave up, but before he could walk out the door he turned around and flipped the two of you off. “Ug...Ugly bitch! Y-You’re nothing but a..a greedy wh-whore in myyy eyes, no...no matter w-what that stu...stupid fake po-police officer saaays!” 
   You shook your head, biting back a response as the man stormed out of the bar. You took a moment to glance at Keiji, but he definitely wasn’t looking too happy. His jaw was locked, and his eyes were unfocused and glued to the door. His entire body was rigid, and the muscles beneath his shirt were straining against the fabric as he didn’t move a single inch.
   You could sense the anger practically pouring off of him, but you knew it wasn’t nearly as explosive as the other man’s temper. You cautiously rested your hand on his arm, the pads of your fingers pressing lightly into his skin. The touch immediately snapped him out of his murderous trance as he tore his gaze away from the door and redirected his attention back to you.
   “Hey, it’s okay. He’s not worth it anyways,” You gave him a weak smile as you looked up at him, and the stone-cold expression on his face practically melted into a more relaxed one almost immediately.
   “You’re right. Now, where were we, hm?” He asked, sitting back down on the stool and letting his natural, laidback smile reappear on his face as he locked eyes with you. Your worries evaporated into thin air, and you smiled back at him with the same carefree expression he seemed to (almost) always have. 
   The hours went by slower and slower as the clock neared closing time, which was well around 4 AM. You had been bracing yourself for when he would have to get up and leave, and you had formed an entire argument in your head with yourself about whether you should ask for his number or not- but the time never came.
   He ordered shot after shot, his words slowly starting to get more and more slurred with every drink he downed. His tab was starting to get dangerously high, and you would slip in ‘shots’ of water in between all of the vodka shots every so often to keep him hydrated. He wasn’t exactly the usual type of drunk you’d get at the bar; most people would either be angry drunks or sad drunks, but Keiji didn’t fall into either of these categories. 
   Instead, he was more of a mix between a flirtatious and exhausted drunk. 
   He was still able to hold a conversation with you, but he would slip up more often than before. He dropped nicknames left and right, always switching between ‘cutie’, ‘my little lady’, and even ‘sugar’ every now and then. Although you definitely weren’t complaining; it was rather entertaining to watch each layer of him unfold, and your heart never stopped pounding obnoxiously in your chest as you continued to slack off and talk to him. 
   But that was only the flirtatious side of him; the other side made him look ready to pass out at any given moment. He was beginning to blink a lot slower, and seemed to snap out of random dazes every once in a while. He was even beginning to slow down on the alcohol, which probably surprised you the most out of everything else.
   However, you were really beginning to worry about him. The bar was about to close, and since he had come by himself there wasn’t exactly a ‘designated driver’ waiting for him outside. If you even knew how to drive, you would’ve gladly have taken him home but that and letting him drive intoxicated were clearly out the window. 
   Which left you with only one option: your own house down the street.
   An hour or so before closing, you closed his tab and quickly charged the card before putting it back onto the counter. You stared at Keiji for a moment; his head was slightly tilted down, as if he was staring at his own hand. You couldn’t tell whether he had accidentally fallen asleep or if he was actually focused on something.
   Letting out a soft chuckle, you gently cupped the side of his face with the palm of your hand, “Hey, sleepyhead, you still up?” 
   He seemed to almost immediately stir at the touch. He pressed his cheek closer into your palm and eventually looked up at you with an exhausted yet tender expression painted very clearly on his face. 
   “Hmm?” He hummed, blinking sluggishly as the corners of his mouth tugged into an everlasting smile, “What did...What did I miss, sugar?”
   Oh, what a babbling lady's man you are. You thought, softly shaking your head as you turned your attention to Diana. “Diana!” You called, and she looked between you and Keiji. She seemed to immediately understand as a mischievous grin spread out on her face. “Can you close-” 
   She cut you off quickly, “Of course, don’t worry about it. Go get laid already!!” 
   Your cheeks flushed a deep pink as you turned away from her and refocused on Keiji, who seemed about ready to fall asleep in your hands. “Ooh? Whooo’s getting laid?” 
   “Not you.” You teased, reluctantly removing your hand from his face as you took his card off the table and slipped it into your pocket, knowing he would probably forget it. You quickly grabbed your keys and bag from the back room, ignoring Diana as she taunted you playfully with her pointer finger and ok sign on her other hand. 
   You left the bar and looped around to the stool where he was sitting. “We’re going to my house, okay? You can crash there for the night,” You said as you slipped one of your hands into his and helped him stand up carefully.
   “You know that’s not..that’s not safe, right? Letting a stranger in..into your home.”
   “Neither is drunk driving.”
   “Touché.” 
   He had a rather strong grip on your hand, but it wasn’t at all crushing. Once you had made sure that he still had his wallet and such on him, you led him out of the bar and began walking down the sidewalk.
   He made a few flirtatious comments along the way, although you tried to ignore him as you were only focused on getting the two of you safely inside.
   “You have such ti...tiny hands.” He teased you as you finally opened the door to your small rental house after a bit of struggling; he refused to let go of your hand, which was actually your dominant hand of all things.
   Kicking the door shut and locking it, you led him over to the pull-out couch where you would let him crash. You dropped your bag and coat on a nearby ottoman and stopped in front of the couch, ready to leave him and go snuggle into your own bed immediately.
   But, clearly, he had other ideas.
   As soon as you two were close enough to the couch, he threw himself onto it and laid down, dragging you along with him. You somehow ended up on top of him as he wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you closer to his body and effectively caging you in. At first, you tried to struggle and flail your way out of his arms, but he had a grip as tight as a grizzly bear and he was clearly not letting you go anytime soon.
   You let out a long sigh as you looked at him, your muscles relaxing as you gave up on escaping. He was already knocked out, with his eyes squeezed shut and his eye bags only further defined underneath them. His own body slackened after a few moments, his biceps and chest muscles becoming softer as he eased up. 
   Well, I guess that solves my pillow issue. You thought to yourself as you closed your eyes and pressed your body up against his.You slowly snaked your arms loosely around his neck, lying completely flat on his body as sleep clawed and begged you to let go. He really was like one big body pillow, and you felt oddly comfortable with your head resting on his chest. Despite still being fully dressed, you fell asleep rather quickly. 
   Just laying there in his arms, you felt more at peace than you had in a long time. 
   In fact, you felt oddly..safe. 
   There in his arms. 
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Banked
(I wrote this fictional Short Story for a contest in response to the prompt "I put on my mask and entered the building.")
I put on my mask and entered the building. A mid-thirties blue swan on a blank canvass. That's what I felt like. But, as Colonel Kilgore famously stated, "How I love the smell of napalm in the morning." Offensive, the mixture reeked and stuck tenaciously to targets.
That sentiment came straight from my military days. I didn't have a flamethrower, but you can bet your goat stinking ass I carried an incendiary ker-boomer in the pack I wore on my back. No more of the 9 to 5 rat race for me.
All dolled up in her ritzy pink chiffon dress, you should have seen the look of bewilderment on Marianne Morrissette's balloon-shaped face. The boo-hoo drops in the corners of her beryl-green eyes did not faze me. Upon hearing my demand the Brazilian femme fatale trembled.
Her expression brought a smile. I watched Marianne's admired sense of humor drain from her vivacious body. I always hated that pretend personality she flashed. Everyone saw right through her attention-drawing come on act.
For six long, going nowhere years, Marianne and I had been co-workers at the Titan Bank and Trust Compny. Hell, I knew all the workers there that Saturday afternoon. The clock on the wall by the front sliding glass doors would have told you it was half past one.
In lickety-split fashion, I warned Marianne, "Not a sound. I have a bomb. Place all the greenbacks in your drawer in a pouch. No dye packs. Then, in silence like I'm not even here, hand me the parcel. Do not notify anyone else or push any alarm buttons. Perhaps if I'm feeling real generous, you might live to see your muchacho tonight. Unlike Little Mario, I have nothing to lose."
"Why are you doing this, Tommy?" Marianne whispered.
My pistol in hand, I answered her, "Because I can. Besides, we'll never get rich slaving in this quagmire. So, I found a new motivation. Take what I want. Don't stall. I'll drop you where you stand! Just do what I told you."
Coal black, and part Cajun, from Gretna on the West Bank of New Orleans, I called Darnell Roundtree "Chocolate Thunder". His preferred name for me became"Coullion". The traded barbs nothing more than in-shop jests between friends. Many nights Darnell and I shared drinks and good times at Miller's Draft House. We counted on the affable giant to keep us protected. The only other gun in the place, Mister Rent-A-Cop became a threat to my well-being. In the wrong place at the wrong time, Darnell had to be eliminated.
I held no alternative when I heard the big man's booming "STOP!"
Darnell reached for the shiny Smith and Wesson 9mm in his suede-lined Safariland holster. I wheeled in his direction and squeezed off one round. A clean shot. The bullet from my pistol entered Darnell's forehead. Blood splattered against a near wall.
I know my ability with a weapon. I had been an Army Ranger for almost a decade. Darnell died before his head slumped on the desk where he had been seated. Six feet away, Type A Personality Extraordinairre Twila Jorgenson screamed a bloody squawk that brought all the other employees to the lobby.
I should have hightailed out of the bank while I could, but I had a long-standing feud to settle with our Loan Manager, Fred Thompson. He rode me like a horse. It was my turn to even the score with the unsympathetic bald-headed woodpecker.
Thorough through and through, Fred bent down and checked Darnell's pulse. He placed two fingers on the carotid artery in Darnell's neck and the arrogant menace announced, "You killed him!"
I slipped my backpack off. The canvass draped over my left wrist. I said, "You're next, Fredaroo, unless you strap this pack on your back like a good little boy. No cookies for you. Do it! Now!"
Fred balked. He told me, "Tommy, you are not going to get away with this. The police are on their way so you better get out of here."
I placed the barrel of my gun tight against the supervisor's temple. Fred took the bag out of my hand and placed the harness over the shoulders of his snow-white Oxford that still looked like he'd steam-pressed the garment that morning. Truth be told he probably did.
I grinned uptight in Fred's mug and remarked, "Pray I don't detonate the explosive, partner. You just stay seated right there in the middle of the room."
Large beads of sweat covered Fred's fat head. You could have swam in them. My comment left the rest of the crowd in wonder. Full of suspicion, they gawked at him. The double-cross felt good.
"Wouldn't bother me to see Monica a widow. Don't know how she's put up with you for twenty years. Even your step-son Kirk can't stand your guts. None of us could," I continued.
I sat the timer on the bomb and assured Fred, "You have thirty minutes to breath air. That is if you don't jostle the pack. If you make that mistake, you got a real short life expectancy."
Outside, I observed a sea of cruiser lights and considered Twila for a human shield. I allowed the notion to pass, steadied my nerves, and started for the door.
"Hold your fire. He's coming out," One uniform called to the others.
As I saw, my options were limited to three choices: suicide, death by cop, or rot in some prison cell. None of them appealed to me.
Instructed to drop my gun and put my hands high in the air, I walked on. Tucson Street and Downtown were to my left. Off the other direction laid Laramie Avenue ad the expressway out of town.
"I said drop your gun and halt!" The loud voice rang out again.
I raised the barrel of my pistol and pointed the weapon at the nearest officer. A hail of gunfire erupted as several well-placed rounds penetrated my torso. I crumbled to the littered pavement and saw a MIckey D's French fry container. Ants crawled after the grease in the red holder. Many cops circled where I fell.
The last words I heard were an exchange between one of them I assumed was the Lieutenant-in-Charge and a news hound who had managed to weasel his way in on the action, microphone at the ready.
"Know who he is?" Bob Murphy asked the officer.
"Tommy Newsome. Everyone in Farmingdale knows him," he was informed.
Murphy wondered, "You mean tell four time State Champion star pitcher for the high school baseball team a few years back? There's never been an athlete like him in this town before. His statue is in Lions' Park."
"Yeah, he had it made," the policeman answered in disbelief. He shook his head and stated, "Thing is, his father owns this bank." Then he scoffed, "Go figure."
Welcomed death closed my eyes.
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sparkie96 · 4 years
Note
"I would never doubt you" Chreon
(Spoiler alert this takes place during the Umbrella Leon AU)
He tried his bonds once more and huffed out of frustration, giving a defeated sigh before reclining in his seat. Leon looked around at the fancy and oh so interesting interior that was the interrogation room of the BSAA Headquarters. He had just come back from an assignment with Neo-Umbrella; a bittersweet dinner with Director Derek C. Simmons. A man he wasn't supposed to be working for to begin with, but he missed his window of opportunity and he was not dragging Sherry or anyone else down with him. Not again. 
He had been on his way back to his hotel when he had been grabbed, bagged and bound before being tossed into the back of a truck. 
At first, Leon contemplated his captors, wondering just who was ballsy enough to grab him in broad daylight like this. It wasn't until he heard Jill Valentine's voice in the truck did he realize who caught him. The only question was...why? 
Well, actually that was a lie. He knew why...and his other question was whether or not Captain Beefcake was going to be here. He hoped so...he and Chris were supposed to start their new life together...but he had been "arrested" by "United States Officials" after the ambush and separated from Chris, Sherry and their escorts. Luckily, they had made it out...but Leon was back to playing errand boy for the very organization he had tried to get away from. 
When he tried to reach out to Chris, he had been barred. He then volunteered to take the assignment in Edonia, but a woman who looked and sounded like Ada, but was not Ada, pretty much told him to fuck off. She had heard about his romps with Chris and told him that if he wasn't so appealing to their employer, he would have been one of her pet projects. That and he was apparently still on "probation" so he wouldn't be allowed any assignments like he was used to. 
So, angered and heartbroken, Leon had no choice but to let the woman go and no way of even warning Chris and his men of the threat that was coming. He even tried to reach out to Sherry secretly, but his letters had been returned, big red "Return to Sender" stamped on the front of each and every one. 
He had been alone and cut-off...isolated...until now. 
The door to the interrogation room opened and Leon nearly jumped for joy when he saw Chris, "Holy shit! You're alive! What happened? Where's Sherry?" 
Almost two years...it had been almost two years since he had last seen Chris or Sherry. Almost two years since he had seen the people he had considered to be his family.
The man looked annoyed with him, slamming a file down on the table and startling Leon in the process. The smile melted from the agent's features, replaced by a look that was a mix of concern and confusion.
"Chris?" Leon asked, reaching for the man despite the cuffs.
"That's Captain Redfield to you, fugitive." The man snarled, "Especially after what you did to my men." 
Leon furrowed his brows in confusion. Fugitive? "What are you talking about?" 
Chris scoffed, opening the file and throwing pictures at the younger. Pictures of places and people he didn't recognize, "Don't fucking play dumb with me! You caused all of this! You and that bitch!" 
Leon gave a look of offense, but tried to contain his emotions as he looked over the photos. He didn't know this place...nor did he know these people or recognize the mutations of the monsters. A new virus perhaps? And what the hell was all this? Was this what happened in Edonia? He hadn't heard details about it. 
He shook his head, "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about." 
Chris slammed his fist on the table and stood, getting in close and scaring the agent, "Don't fucking lie to me! You and that Wong bitch killed all of my men, killed innocents all across Edonia and then attacked Jake Muller and Agent Birkin's plane!" 
Leon's eyes widened in shock, frozen in place as a cold, sickening feeling washed over him. Agent
...Birkin? He slowly shook his head, feeling like he was about to have a panic attack. No...no, no, no! Sherry...she was supposed to be safe with Claire! She wasn't ever supposed to be involved with any of this ever again! 
His stomach churned as Chris told him angrily what had happened, showing Leon a photo of someone who looked remarkably like himself with that not Ada woman. Leon felt so confused, shaking his head fervently. No, that wasn't him. He had never been to Edonia! What the fuck was this?!
"You told me back then you wanted to change!" Chris hollered accusingly, "You wanted out of this life! But then you fucking disappear for nearly two years and then pull this shit?!" 
"Chris, this isn't me!" Leon protested, "I didn't...I don't know what this is! Please! I've never even been to Edonia!" 
"Then who the fuck is this?!" Chris exclaimed, showing a picture of the imposter, "You telling me that this isn't you? Cause, it looks like you to me!" 
"It's not! I swear!" Leon argued, "Please, you got to believe me!" 
"Why should I?!" Chris hollered, throwing the picture at him, Kevlar gloved hands angrily gripping the table as the bigger man invaded his space, "You fucking promised and then this shit happens! You killed innocent people and good men!" 
"I did not!" 
"I fucking saw you with my own eyes, Kennedy!" 
"Chris I would never…!" 
"THEN WHY DID YOU?!"
The agent was speechless, unsure of what to say. What could he say? He didn't know what the fuck had happened nor did he know what was going on. He knew he never stepped foot in Edonia, but Chris knew what he saw, and there were even photos of this mysterious doppelganger. He didn't believe Leon and Leon didn't know how he could protest his innocence. 
"I trusted you…" Chris said, calming and sitting back in his seat, "I fucking poured my heart out to you and gave it to you...and then you disappeared. And when I finally see you again, you betray me and kill everyone I trust..." 
Leon felt like his heart was breaking in his chest as he looked up at the man he loved. Those eyes that used to look at him with love now cold and looked upon him with hatred. His composure was wavering, feeling like he was about to break down and beg for forgiveness. He reached for Chris's hand, but the man pulled away, hurting Leon even more. 
"I don't know what to say…" Leon confessed, "I know I wasn't there...but you know what you saw…" 
Chris studied him, as though contemplating something. What? Only the man knew. 
Leon cleared his throat, "You want justice for your men...and whatever happened to Sherry and this "Jake" person. That's understandable." 
Chris leaned back in his seat, not replying, but simply watching. Leon looked down at the floor, trying not to cry. 
Leon looked up at him through dark locks, "I would never doubt you or your judgement. In the end...I know you'll do the right thing." 
Again, he was met with silence, but he could see it in the man's eyes as they softened. He was slowly breaking through the stoic and cold exterior. Before either could say or do anything, a young man wearing a scarf came in and informed Chris that they needed to move out soon. Their flight to China would be leaving later on, but they needed to go over the briefing with the team and prepare in the meantime. 
Leon looked between the two before settling his gaze on Chris, the man giving a nod and thanking "Lieutenant Nivans" before packing up the file and standing. 
"Wait!" Leon protested, pulling at his cuffs and reaching for Chris as best as he could, "Please...I need to know about Sherry. Is she still alive? She's okay, right?" 
Chris merely looked down at him, not saying a word but turning back to Nivans, "Have Parker and Quint escort this man to a cell. I'll question him more and we'll figure out what to do with him when we get back." 
Leon shook his head, crying and screaming for Chris as two men entered in and Chris left. The bigger man undoing and adjusting his cuffs until his arms were bound behind his back, despite Leon's thrashing. They held the struggling man by his arms, Leon calling for Chris and begging for him to come back, insisting he could help. 
They had passed a room filled with soldiers and desks, passed through several corridors and made their way down a long hallway filled with cells. Leon waited and then stumbled, making it seem like there was something wrong with his leg. When the big guy, "Parker" bent down to check, Leon had headbutted him. The man stumbled back, cursing in Italian while holding his nose in pain. 
The shorter man, "Quint" tried to get a hold on Leon, but the agent kneed him in the groin. When the bald man doubled over, Leon kneed him in the face, knocking him out. Parker reached for him, but Leon got into a crouch before sweeping his leg, knocking Parker's legs out from under him. He knocked him out as well. 
After bending and twisting until his arms were in front of him, Leon retrieved the key to the cuffs from Parker, "Sorry, boys...but I need to find my daughter and prove my innocence to the man I love, and sitting in a cell counting my days isn't going to help me do it." 
Once freed, he bolted down the hallway, reaching an emergency exit. He flew through the door and ran. He didn't know what the fuck was going on...but most likely he had been set up. For What? He still wasn't completely sure. 
One thing he did know what that he needed to find Ada. The real Ada. No doubt she would catch wind of this, especially if there was a nut job parading around as her. Together, they would get to the bottom of this. Then he would go to China and help Chris before something bad happened. 
But first, he had to make a stop in Tall Oaks where his hotel was and get some supplies. 
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himluv · 4 years
Text
Bow & Arrow
Day 3 of 14 Days of Dragon Age Lovers. This one was weird for me, but I did my best to make it work. I hope you guys like it.
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Sera was never the quietest girl, like the song said. All these months she’d made her thoughts on Elfy plain. He was stuck up. Elf this, legacy that. Magic, spirits, the Fade. She hated all of it. And while she didn’t hate him, it was a near thing.
Inky on the other hand… well, she liked her. She was little people once. Littler even than she was. Her clan might be too elfy for her tastes, but they lived hard, humble lives. That she understood.
What she didn’t understand was why Riallan would choose Solas. Inky was funny, with a wicked wit she only let out to play sometimes. She was strong, not just with all that lightning, but with her head and her heart. She told the Orlesians what for in Halamshiral and put ‘em in their place.
Sera liked that.
But Solas? He was boring. Too quiet, too obsessed with things that ought to be left alone. He hardly ever joined them in the tavern, and he smiled even less. He was a know-it-all, and so full of himself that Sera had no choice brought to bring him down a peg every now and again.
That time she’d left lizards in his bedroll had been brilliant! Oh, he’d been right pissed for days.
Varric had been the one to let it slip. He’d had a mug too many and he’d made some remark about Riallan and Solas, then wagged his eyebrows at her. She might have thought it just a fun joke, but Dorian had damn near slapped his hand over the dwarf’s mouth to shut him up. That confirmed it.
So now she walked through the desert with them and Cassandra, them none-the-wiser that she knew they were bumping bits. She wanted to figure it out. She wanted to understand what could convince Inky to spend all her free time with someone so… Solas.
She didn’t think it was his looks, not that she was a very good judge. Not that he was unattractive, but he was plain. And bald. And she’d seen him shave so it was on purpose. His eyes were pretty enough, like the water at the Storm Coast, but usually they were just as cold.
No. It couldn’t be his looks.
She’d heard about his painting, had gone to see it one day. It was pretty, all bold colors and strong lines. She liked it, though she couldn’t pick any one thing about it that made her feel that way. It just looked right. She’d struggled to connect the art to the man, but maybe that’s why he was so plain. He put all the interesting bits into the art.
“Trouble ahead,” he said.
She had to admit, he did have a nice voice. Smooth and low and she reckoned it sounded nice whispered in the dark. She unslung her bow and nocked an arrow, scanning for the so called trouble.
Red Templars were everywhere in the Approach, and she was all too happy to stick an arrow in their throats. But she didn’t get much chance; the fight was finished almost as quickly as it’d begun.
Before anyone could move Solas cast a barrier, the magic cool and refreshing as it washed over her. Almost immediately after that, Riallan summoned a cage of purple lightning, trapping the corrupted Templars in an electrified circle. Solas froze another Templar as Sera’s arrow took him in the head, shattering the man dead.
Cassandra finally reached the three Templars, her blade hacking at them with all the fury of a woman betrayed. Solas cast something weird, all green and sickly, like the Fade, and the Templars crashed to the ground, only for Riallan to shoot a fist of stone at them as they stood up.
A marksman managed to doge the fist, and fired a desperate arrow at Riallan. It hit, and she grunted, but didn’t fall. Instead she spun her staff and launched a ball of fire at the man. He froze a second before the fire hit him, another well-timed spell from Solas, and then fell writhing to die in the dirt.
Only then did Riallan drop to one knee.
“Vhenan!” Solas fade stepped to her side, careful hands at her shoulder, where the arrow stuck out from her skin.
She bit her lip and groaned. “It’s not too bad,” she said through her teeth.
Sera and Cassandra stood over them, worried but ultimately useless. They weren’t healers.
Solas frowned. “You are lucky. The arrowhead didn’t hit anything vital.”
She smiled, an ugly thing that looked more pained than happy. “Just a flesh wound?”
He glared at her. “Lay down,” he said.
She obeyed, but went pale with the effort. It hurt more than she let on.
“Do you want something to bite down on?”
She shook her head. “Just get it over with.” She was in pain, but she held his eyes and there was nothing but trust there.
It dawned on Sera that this was not the first time they’d done this particular dance. She was about to say as much when Solas placed one palm on Riallan’s chest. The other took hold of the arrow and yanked in one smooth motion. Inky cried out, a low guttural sound, then rolled away from him onto her side.
“Fenedhis that hurts!”
He examined the arrowhead and let out a relieved sigh. “It does not seem to be poisoned this time.”
“Thank the Creators,” she said. She didn’t sound all that thankful to Sera.
Solas chuckled and rolled her onto her back again. He placed a hand over the wound and Riallan relaxed at the touch. A pale blue glow flickered over his palm, and when he sat back the Inquisitor sighed.
“That’s much better.” She sat up and rolled her shoulder. She hissed.
“We should apply a poultice, to be safe.” He helped her stand and they brushed the sand off their armor.
“As soon as we get to camp,” she said.
He didn’t look like he agreed with that, but he didn’t say so. And then they were off, walking through the desert as if nothing had happened. Sera understood then.
Maybe she couldn’t see the initial appeal, but now she saw the way they fit together. In battle she was a storm, crashing over their enemies, corralling them and bombarding them with elemental attacks. Solas supported those attacks with barriers for his allies and by freezing his foes.
Outside of battle they were just similar enough to be drawn together. Both quiet and bookish, obsessed with the past and elves and magic. But Riallan was a presence. When she walked in the room you noticed, and not just because she was the Inquisitor. There was something magnetic about her, that drew people in and convinced them to help her. She’d used it to her advantage a dozen times as the Herald.
Solas was the opposite. Plain to the point of invisibility, he walked without notice and so saw so much more than anyone realized. It was one thing Sera liked about him. He was sneaky, observant. It reeked of little people, of servants used to being ignored. Not for the first time, she wondered where he’d come from, what his life was before the Inquisition.
But she knew she’d never know the answers. They weren’t for her.
They were for her. Riallan and Solas walked shoulder to shoulder at the head of their group, talking quietly. He was tall, taller than her by at least a head, and though the Inquisitor seemed well enough, his body curved toward her. His concern telegraphed in his walk.
Sera smirked. She got it now. She was the arrow, he was the bow. They were neat on their own, but only really made sense once you put them together.
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alonely-dreamer · 5 years
Text
The Valuable Sun | Chapter 6
Summary: Brooklynne Stackhouse is Sookie and Jason Stackhouse’s little sister. Like her older sibling, she is a telepath, but her powers are far more stronger and far more uncontrollable than her sister’s. After a series of murders in Bon Temps, Sookie takes it upon herself to investigate, taking her younger sister with her in a club called Fangtasia, where they meet vampire and sheriff Eric Northman.
Pairing: Eric x OC
Warnings: 18+ (language, violence, blood)
A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.
Words: 4860
Schedule: A new chapter will be posted every Monday. Chapter 7 to 10 are available on my Patreon for early and instant access.
Masterlist
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
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Brooklynne had never left Louisiana. She thought she’d be happy to visit another state, but it seemed the silence in her head was heavier than she would have imagined. Her lonely voice wasn’t as pleasant as she’d have thought, especially since she was beating herself up for blindly trusting Eric despite her sister’s advice. Sookie hadn’t mentioned it and the two sisters had barely talked as they were getting ready to leave for Dallas.
They left in the late afternoon, the plane having been delayed for a couple of hours. Bill didn’t feel comfortable leaving Jessica alone in Bon Temps and had taken her with them. The two vampires were resting in their travel coffins while Sookie and Brooklynne enjoyed the private plane Bill had booked, with Eric’s credit-car.
‘Enjoyed’ wasn’t a word neither sisters would have used, however, since neither of them talked to the other. Brooklynne was second guessing herself. What if Sookie were right? What if Adele had had a good reason to keep her inside the house? Maybe she was too naïve to be trusted to make decisions for herself, especially if those decisions led her to another state with a psycho vampire like Eric Northman.
“You’ll get used to it,” Sookie said suddenly, and for once, Brooke had no idea what she was talking about. “Being alone in your head,” she clarified once she saw the confused look on her sister’s face.
“It’s weird. Now it requires effort to listen to other people… I don’t know what to do with my thoughts.”
“Do you still get distracted?”
“Sometimes,” she shrugged.
“Everybody gets distracted sometimes,” Sookie said with a smile. “I still can’t believe you finally managed to control it.”
“I don’t think I did… I think I blocked the voices, but I didn’t control it. I don’t.”
“It will take time. You’ll control it eventually.”
“Can you even control it?”
Sookie sighed. “Sometimes.”
When the plane landed, Sookie was half drunk. She took a bottle of whatever alcohol it was every time the flight attendant asked if she wanted one. Brooke watched as she emptied the small bottles one after the other.
Flying wasn’t as scary as the youngest Stackhouse had previously thought, but she was still relieved to be on the ground once again. She straightened her dress, a white lace skater dress her grandmother had gifted her for her birthday but had never had the occasion to wear. She had borrowed pastel pink pumps from her sister, shoes Sookie hated because of their color and the height of their heels. But Brooklynne didn’t mind standing a little taller, even though her 5’4 sister was shorter than her by 2 inches. She was still no match for the intimidating 6’4 vampire though, not even with the five-inch heels.
Sookie was looking as bright as the sun in her yellow dress and white pumps. She almost tripped as she walked down the stairs, though it could have been the alcohol’s fault more than it was the heels’, or maybe it was a combination of both. Their heels clacked on each step of the metal stairs, but their steps became silent as they reached the ground.
A bald man was waiting for them with a ‘Compton Party’ sign in his hands. The black limo contrasted with the bright white of the room but matched its driver who was also wearing an all-black suit. Brooklynne thought he looked nervous, but Sookie was too inebriated to notice.
“Yoohoo,” she said as she waved at him with a big smile, “that’s us!”
Brooklynne watched as the airport employees took Bill and Jessica’s coffins out of the plane. She wondered how they traveled before they came out to the world and all of these services were publicly available.
“You’re two hours late,” the driver told them, and that could have explained his nervousness. “You were supposed to be here before sundown.”
“We got delayed for takeoff,” Sookie explained.
“Why don’t you go in the limo? I got the A.C cranked up.”
“No, thanks, I’m fine. I’m waiting for my boyfriend to wake up,” she said with a smile as she pointed towards the two coffins behind her.
“Well, you can wait inside, there are cokes in there,” he insisted.
Sookie frowned. She now noticed the pearls of sweat sliding down his temple. She looked up at her sister who had no idea what the man was thinking and liked it that way. For once, however, her uncontrollable ability would have been very helpful.
“Get in the limo, you stupid bitch.”
Sookie gasped as the man’s thoughts resonated inside her head. He then seized her, making Brooke jump at the sudden movement.
“Let me go!” Sookie said as she tried to free herself from his hands.
“Stop it!” Brooke ordered, but for the first time in her life, it didn’t work. Confused by her failed attempt at helping her sister, she didn’t have time to see nor avoid the hand that met with her face violently. A cry of pain escaped her.
“Hey! Don’t touch her!” Sookie snarled.
She was about to kick him somewhere he really wouldn’t have liked but Bill, sensing her fear, appeared suddenly, removing the man’s hands from his girlfriend and seizing him by throat.
“Make a noise and it’ll be your last,” the vampire warned, showing his fangs to prove how serious he was.
Both Sookie and Brooke jumped as a loud noise resonated in the airport. They turned around to see the top of Bill’s coffin bounce on the floor.
“Hey! How the hell does this thing open?” Jessica asked from inside her coffin, which fell off the platform and found a place next to Bill’s.
“Are you okay?” Sookie asked her sister who had a hand on her reddened cheek.
Brooke frowned, ignoring the question. “I don’t understand why it didn’t work.”
“It’s gonna leave a nasty bruise,” Sookie said as she inspected her sister’s cheekbone.
“Do you want me to heal her?” Bill asked.
“No,” she grimaced. She probably didn’t want her sister to have odd dreams about her boyfriend, which they both understood.
“I don’t understand why it didn’t work,” Brooke repeated in a whisper and Sookie ignored her again.
Bill glamoured the man to get in the limo in silence before he helped Jessica out of her coffin. Brooklynne and Sookie sat at the opposite of the car, facing their assailant who was sitting wordlessly as Bill had ordered. Jessica joined them in the car, sitting next to the driver/kidnapper. Bill sat in front of him, ready to glamour his answers away.
“Tell me your name.”
“Leon.”
“Alright, Leon. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Brooklynne watched, still upset by the fact that her power hadn’t worked on Leon. She wondered if that wall she had built inside her head was not only blocking the voices from coming in, but also her powers from coming out. She didn’t know how to feel about it.
Bill slowly moved his eyes from Leon to his progeny, asking her if she wanted to try glamouring him. By the surprised look on her face, Brooke deduced she had never even tried it before.
“Lean in close so you can catch his gaze,” Bill told her as she positioned herself in front of Leon. “Then just let everything go. Let yourself be dead. You are empty. A vacuum. Now you can pull his mind into yours.”
It sounded very different from what Brooklynne usually did when she tried to control herself. She couldn’t let herself go or else who knew where she’d ended up. Physically or mentally. Though, now that she was empty, it seemed that she couldn’t pull anybody’s mind into hers anymore. And she didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Bill left Jessica have a little fun with Leon and came to sit beside his girlfriend. Bill always looked worried, but this time he had a good reason to be.
“This man was sent to abduct you,” he told both sisters. “Which means somebody knew you were coming.”
“Who do you think’s behind it? Vampires?” Sookie asked.
He shook his head. “Too sloppy… Maybe that church?”
“Bill, they may be crazy but they’re still a church. They’re not gonna kidnap anybody.”
The vampire chuckled. “Sookie, churches have done much, much worse throughout history.”
“Eric said he thought humans had taken Godric,” Brooke told them. “Maybe it’s the same humans that tried to take us.”
“It’s possible,” Bill nodded. “I’ll glamour Leon to drive us to the hotel. I’ll inform Eric of what happened when we get there.”
Brooke sighed as she leaned against her seat. She didn’t want to see Eric. Now, she had the clarity of mind to be scared of him. As she should be.
***
The hotel was bigger than any other buildings Brooke had ever laid her eyes on. It was a rectangular big old thing that had just been renovated, or maybe it was brand new and it was designed to look that way, Brooke couldn’t tell. The design inside would give anyone a headache, especially because of the lights. Everything was red, black and golden, but the lights, for some reason, were blue. The walls, the floor, the décor, everything was as similar as it was different. It was all very elegant though somewhat ridiculous. Maybe because they tried to make it appealing to both humans and vampires and it ended up being all nonsense.
Everything went well at the reception, putting aside the room with no bed Eric had booked for Bill and Sookie, which they ended up changing. Brooklynne had a room of her own, which surprised all of them, however Sookie was more than happy to have a room alone with her boyfriend and didn’t complain about it. Brooklynne’s room was bigger than her living room and the bed was gigantic. The design was the same in every room, black and red, no windows, a giant TV on the wall and a bathroom big enough for a shower and a bathtub so big it could have been a hot tub.
Leon’s interrogation didn’t answer all of their questions, but at least answered the biggest one. Who was behind the attempted kidnapping. Bill was very angry at Eric for not letting him know the Fellowship of the Sun was involved in Godric’s disappearance, though there was nothing he could really do about it. The vampire had glamoured Leon to forget they ever arrived at the airport before he let him go.
Alone in her quiet hotel room, Brooklynne decided to do some research on the Fellowship of the Sun. They were a church created by Reverend Theodore Newlin which had just died in a car accident with his wife and their baby daughter. His son Steve was convinced vampires were behind their deaths and took over the church, and resumed spreading his father’s message of hate towards the creatures of the night. The church, which was based here, in Dallas, seemed like a cult to Brooklynne, who wished she could remember why that church sounded so familiar.
She fell asleep a little after midnight, the laptop sliding from her lap and onto the red silk sheets. She had changed into comfortable sleepwear, a pair of pastel blue shorts and an old white crop top which was a little too tight for her now. She was woken up less than an hour later by someone entering the room. She jumped awake as she heard footsteps. Her eyes grew big as she saw Eric standing at the end of the bed. She felt her cheeks redden as his gaze traveled from her bare legs to her exposed belly button to her face.
“Well, don’t you look happy to see me,” he chuckled as he saw the fear in her eyes.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” she asked, enveloping herself in the bedsheets.
“We share a room, didn’t you know?” he said as he took off his black leather jacket, leaving him in his white sleeveless shirt.
“What? Why?”
“It’s cheaper,” he shrugged, though she knew he was lying. He could have booked the entire hotel if he had wanted to, according to Bill. “Besides. You’re in Dallas now. The vampires here are no joke.”
“And you are?” the sassy remark escaped her.
Eric raised an eyebrow, perhaps impressed by her unexpected reply.
“I guess not, or else you wouldn’t be scared of me,” he said with a smile as if he were proud of it.
He threw his jacket on the couch at the corner of the room before he leaned over the bed, placing a knee on the soft mattress, then the other, making his way next to Brooke. He rested his back against the bedframe as he sighed.
“I’ve had a long day. I could use a snack.”
Brooke swallowed as she tried to think of a clever answer, one Sookie would have come up with.
“I am not your dinner,” is all she said.
“No, but you could be my dessert,” he smirked which made her blush again.
She looked away from him, which is when he noticed the bruise on her cheek. He was so fast it made her jump. He seized her chin in his hand, firmly, though not hard enough to hurt her, and made her look at him so he could get a better look.
“What happened?” he asked, the anger in his tone worried her.
“Nothing,” she replied quickly in a whisper. “The man… Leon. He hit me when he tried to take Sookie.”
“And Bill let him go,” he said in disapproval, as if he would have done differently, which she knew he probably would have. “My blood can heal you,” he offered as he released her.
“Your blood can do a lot of things,” she muttered, remembering the side effects Bill’s blood had on Sookie.
“Indeed,” Eric chuckled. “It could lead to a lot of fun.”
“I’m not gonna have sex with you,” she told him, and she expected him to laugh at her, but he merely shrugged.
“Not tonight, maybe not,” he said as he leaned towards her.
She tried to move back as his nose reached her neck, but she was already at the edge of the bed.
“Dangerous walking around vampires not belonging to anyone,” he said with a deep and quiet voice, “my offer still stands.”
“No, thank you,” she told him with a trembling voice.
He chuckled, as if he had expected her to reject him. “Fine, then,” he said, leaning back against the bedframe, “I’ll let you sleep. You’ll need to be well rested tomorrow. We’re meeting with Godric’s people as soon as the sun sets.”
“Why do you care so much about Godric?” she asked, remembering he had once told her vampires only cared about their makers and their progeny.
“I told you, he’s my friend.”
“How long have you known him?”
“A thousand years.”
“A thousand years? Did you make him?”
He chuckled like it was a ridiculous thing to say. “No. He made me.”
Brooklynne wasn’t surprised to hear it. After all it explained a lot. She couldn’t imagine someone who tortured people in his basement would care about others.
“So, he’s your maker. That’s why you care so much about him.”
“Vampires are loyal to their makers. Godric is… the best maker I could’ve asked for.”
She saw he was sincere. It made her wonder. Was Godric as bad as he was? Or was he worse?
“Is he the one who taught you to torture people in your basement?”
He shot her a look and she wondered if she had gone too far.
“You’re still mad about your friend Lafayette?” he asked, like it was something she’d ever get over.
“Of course,” she said as if it was surprising he’d think otherwise.
“Your friend sold and used vampire blood. If I didn’t make an example out of him I would be seen as weak. And I can’t have that.”
“You could have called the police.”
“Yes, I could have,” he nodded. “But I had questions. Questions about Godric.”
“What does Lafayette know about your maker?”
“Nothing, as it turned out. But I still needed to ask.”
“You didn’t need to torture him.”
“No, but it’s always more fun,” he grinned.
Outrage ran through her as she fought back the want to slap him. She clenched her jaw, but then looked away. She slid under the sheets, turned her back towards him and laid down on the bed, indicating the conversation was over.
He chuckled again before he got off the bed. “And a good night to you too, Brooklynne,” he said before he left the room.
***
She woke up around 10AM and was surprised to find Eric sleeping beside her. He had kept his distance and the bed was so big another person could have slept between them without bothering either of them. She didn’t know what to do, she was afraid to move. She didn’t want to wake him up. She wondered how true what Sookie had once told her was. Vampires slept all day, from sunrise to sundown and it took a lot to wake them up. She put that to the test.
She ordered breakfast and Eric slept through it. She took a shower and got dressed and he was still sleeping when she stepped out of the bathroom. Sookie came knocking on her door around noon, to go get lunch downstairs, and he didn’t even move at all. She found it extremely creepy, especially since he looked dead when he was asleep. She didn’t let her sister see the vampire in the room, or else she’ll never hear the end of it, and she didn’t want her to wake him up. She couldn’t get used to the way he was looking at her, like she was his dinner or something he wanted, something he desired to own.
During lunch, Sookie was going and on and on about Barry, a man working in the hotel who happened to be a telepath like them. He seemed to be unable to control his ability, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been for Broolkynne.
“Can he order people around?”
“I asked and he had no idea what I was talking about.”
“I’m worried that… you know… now that I blocked it, I… I just made everything stop.”
“You can’t hear anything at all?”
“No, which is great! But…” she sighed. “I know if I focused I could do it, I just don’t understand why I couldn’t make Leon stop last night!”
“I think you just need to practice. You know, like, before everything was messy inside your head and you had no control over any of it so it kind of just happened, but now that you do, you just need to put more effort into it.”
“Like glamouring… I’ll have to look them in the eyes?”
“Maybe,” Sookie shrugged. “But at least now you can have lunch with me in a restaurant, surrounded by other people,” she smiled as she put her hand over her sister’s.
“I know, it’s weird… I keep forgetting there are other people around us… And then they’ll move, and they’ll scare the hell out of me,” she joked.
“Well, like I said. You’ll get used to it.”
“Maybe I could even get a job. You think Sam needs another waitress?”
“I think you’d be a better bartender.”
They laughed as they talked about the things Brooklynne could do now that she didn’t even dare dream of before. She wondered if the wall would be permanent, if it would stand forever, and what it would take to have it crumble down. She hoped she could at least find herself a job and have a semblance of a normal life.
Eric was still sleeping when she came back into the room. According to Sookie, she could watch TV right next to him and it wouldn’t wake him up. It proved to be true. She was still watching an old soap opera, which she used to watch with her grandmother, when Eric rose from the bed. Like a clock, he opened his eyes when the sun went down. Alerted by the movement behind her, she turned around to see him make his way from the bed to where she was sitting on the couch.
“How do you do that?”
“What?”
“Wake up as soon as it’s dark outside.”
“Habit,” he shrugged. “We can feel it.”
He took a bottle of Tru Blood from the mini fridge before he sat beside her. Brooklynne was surprised he’d drink from a bottle. He saw the look on her face and smirked.
“Unless you want to volunteer?”
“I saw there are people on the menu,” she said, not bothering to hide her disgust.
“Somehow I think you’re not going to appreciate watching me drink from someone.”
She frowned. “That’s very considerate of you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said before he brought the bottle of synthetic blood to his lips. “What are you watching?” he asked, clearly not happy with the program.
“It was Gran’s favorite show,” she explained. “She never missed an episode.”
“You know,” he said, as he put the bottle down on the coffee table before them, “there are more interesting things to watch here.”
“Like what?” she asked, not removing her attention from the nurse crying over her dead boss.
Eric moved closer to her, putting his hand on the arm of the couch, blocking her view to the TV with his face. “I’ll let you take a guess.”
She frowned, thinking about it for a moment before she rolled her eyes. “I’ve been hearing everybody’s dirty thoughts since I was a child. You want to watch porn, there’s a laptop on the nightstand.”
Her surprising response made him laugh. “I forgot how different you are from other humans. Though you do look better than the first time we met. I’ll take credit for that.”
Well, she couldn’t take the credit away. It was him who had taken her to his hellish club and forced her to face the crowd. It was him who had pushed her to try and take control of her powers. Where her entire family had chosen to keep her inside, away from people, he had done the opposite, and it had only taken one night for her to get positive results. Or at least, some results.
“How many vampires will there be at the meeting tonight?”
He looked down at her and saw how worried she was. Well, at least she wasn’t dumb. She was going to have to enter a room filled with vampires and she was right to be nervous. She was smart to be scared.
“Two,” he said, and he saw she was a little reassured.
“And they think the Fellowship of the Sun has Godric too?”
“They suspect, but we have no proof. That’s why you’re here.”
“Do they know… that we’re here to help?”
“Yes. You have nothing to fear from Isabel. I believe she has a human of her own. She is… reasonable.”
“But the other vampire isn’t?”
“You could say that. But if you don’t get in his way, he won’t hurt you. Especially since you’re with me.”
“Doesn’t he want us to help?”
“It would be in his interest if Godric was never found. Stan has ambitions to become a sheriff one day. Besides, he hates humans, and will find the idea to request human help appalling, but he has no power to stop it.”
“So… avoid Stan and trust Isabel, then?”
Eric nodded. “Sounds wise.”
A knock on the door interrupted them. It was time to leave for the meeting and, unsurprisingly, Bill was right on time. The vampire had a lot of qualities and, apparently, punctuality was one of them. When Eric opened the door, he met with a surprised Bill and an angry Sookie. He could already hear her tell him to stay away from her sister.
“Eric,” Bill said. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, it’s my room,” he grinned.
“No. This is Brooke’s room,” Sookie snarled.
“Yes, we’re sharing.”
“And are you sharing the bed too?” Bill asked, knowing it would put Sookie in a rage and already enjoying annoying Eric.
“Don’t worry, it’s a big bed,” Eric winked at the eldest sister.
“You’re getting anoth-“
“We should go,” Brooke interrupted them. It’s not that she wasn’t grateful for her sister’s protection, but she just wished she’d let her take care of herself for once. “We don’t want to be late,” she continued as she appeared next to Eric.
“No. We don’t want to be late,” he said, as he put his hand on her lower back and gently pushed her out of the room.
Sookie gave a “if you hurt her I’m going to kill you and Bill will help” look to Eric which only made the vampire smirk.
“Keep your energy, Sookie. We have a long night and a long day ahead of us.”
And he wasn’t lying.
Stan and Isabel were as different as Eric and Bill. One wanted to shoot first and ask questions later, and the other was smarter. The group from Bon Temps watched as the two underlings argued in Godric’s living room. It was a big house, surprisingly white and bright and with big windows giving a view of the streets. Eric was pacing as he listened to them yell at each other on how to proceed.
“We take them all out at once. Pre-emptive strike,” Stan said with a heavy Texan accent.
“Of course, so the federal government can bomb us back into the Middle Ages!” Isabel replied with a Spanish accent of her own.
Stan scoffed. “Things were better then.”
“Then go to Romania and live in a cave, you ranchero poser!”                      
Eric growled as he picked up a vase from the table beside him and threw it across the room. The sudden burst of anger made Brooke jump. She was standing next to her sister, who was also surprised by the vampire’s reaction.
“Godric has protected you, made you rich, and you stand here spitting and scratching like infants!”
“Don’t any of you care that there’s a traitor in your midst?” Bill asked.
“No,” Stan merely replied like he did, in fact, not care at all, or maybe he just didn’t believe it.
“Impossible,” Isabel rejected the idea.
“Someone tried to kidnap me and my sister from the airport,” Sookie told them.
“You were the only ones that knew they were coming.”
“Explain,” Eric ordered them as he placed himself near Brooklynne.
“Unless it was you,” both Stan and Isabel told each other in unison.
“Look, if y’all argue anymore, I’m either gonna fall asleep or start screaming so this is what we’re gonna do,” Sookie told them, ignoring the look her sister was giving her. Brooke didn’t imagine using that kind of tone was smart, especially if she were going to tell two vampires what to do. “We’ll infiltrate the Fellowship of the Sun.”
A plan both sisters had agreed to at lunch. It seemed like the only way to make themselves useful and to actually get results.
“Absolutely not!”
Sookie obviously hadn’t shared her plans with Bill.
“Let her speak,” Eric said, to Bill and Stan’s dismay.
“Since Bill glamoured the kidnapper, no one there knows who we are. We’ll pretend we want to join the church and check out all their thoughts.”
“No. During the day, none of us can help you,” Bill told her.
“It’ll only take a little while. Really, Bill it’s simple.”
Stan shook his head. “Waste of time,” he growled as he started walking away. “I want no part of this.”
Isabel wasn’t sad to see him go. “There’s no easier way to find out if they’re involved.”
“If it leads us to Godric, we’ll do it,” Eric nodded. “The decision is made.”
Brooklynne already felt a headache coming as Bill and Sookie started to argue. But as the vampire had learnt to know, he couldn’t tell Sookie what to do, and he couldn’t stop Eric from getting what he wanted. Something Sookie was coming to learn as well since no matter what she said and how loud she said it, Eric wouldn’t agree to book himself another room.
“Your sister is quite annoying,” the vampire complained as he closed the door to their room, after Bill had pulled Sookie away into theirs.
“She doesn’t like you,” Brooke replied as she was looking through her luggage for better sleepwear, something less revealing than she was wearing last night. Unfortunately, she had only packed dresses and shorts.
“I’ve noticed.”
Brooke went into the bathroom without saying another word. She took a long shower, hoping that when she’d come out, Eric would be gone. And maybe he had read her mind, or he had important things to take care of, but when she stepped back into the room, he was gone. She slid under the bedsheets, relieved to be alone, and slept the entire night, undisturbed.
**********
Tags: @thepoet1975 @nerdysandwichqueen @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @raegan-hale @colie87
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Part 3
Death x OC Office AU
(Idk if you guys are even still interested in this but it's helping me get back into writing so imma keep posting it until y'all tell me "STOP!!!" Also I'm on mobile so I can't do a "keep reading" thing I'm so sorry I know it must be annoying)
“Do these leggings make my ass look to big?” I stood sideways in front of the mirror, studying my butt. Today was my first official day on the job, and I was nervous as hell.
“Everything makes your butt look big,” Neema answered, giggling. I scowled at her and stuck my tongue out, turning back to the mirror.
“Seriously, is this okay? Professional enough?”
“Ugh, it’s fine!” She joined me in front of the mirror and grabbed the hem of my baby pink top, pulling it down over my butt. “You look great, alright? It’s not like you’re gonna go to meetings or anything, right? No need for stuffy clothes.” I smiled a little and nodded. She was right, but I still felt uneasy. Maybe my outfit was too casual. “You don’t have time to change anyways, it’s almost eight thirty.”
“Shit!” I grabbed my phone and bag, running out of the room. “Love you, don’t answer the door for strangers!” Neema had gotten a three-day suspension from school after the incident, not that she minded. I hated leaving her alone, but she was sixteen and I had to stop babying her at some point, even if I didn’t like it.
“Go kick ass at work!” she called after me. I picked up my small box of things next to the door and said one last goodbye before running out.
I barely made it in time to catch the bus. I paid the two-dollar fee and searched for a seat, weaving through people. A demon standing in the aisle moved forward as much as he could to allow me to pass, his leathery wings barely missing my face as I squeezed by. Getting hit by wings wasn’t fun, I knew that from personal experience. I ducked behind an angel who was preoccupied on her cellphone and spotted an empty seat, breathing a sigh of relief. I plopped down and set the box next to me, checking the time. Eight forty.
It should only take me ten minutes to reach the office if traffic is light. I mentally cursed myself for not leaving sooner; arriving late would not be a good look for me. Amber had emailed me on Thursday to let me know my schedule and tell me who would be there to show me around. She also informed me that this was a trial run. At the end of three months, Death would decide whether or not I really could be useful. I was hellbent on proving myself, though my mission had gotten off to a late start.
I sighed and checked my email but I had nothing but spam and notifications telling me that my favorite items were on sale. Too bad I didn’t have money to burn, otherwise I’d have been excited by the news. I closed the app and checked another site, my mood not getting any better. All I saw were pictures of friends and families having the time of their lives, vacationing in the Caribbean or announcing their engagement. Apparently, my cousin was pregnant with a baby boy, oh joy. I groaned to myself as I continued to look through my timeline, feeling worse about my situation. I wanted to be able to take my sisters on vacation; hell, I wanted to be able to afford to buy them lunch one day.
I wanted to be able to buy Neema all the manga she could ever want, and make enough so Safiya never had to work another double shift again. I wanted to be able to take care of them for once.
I logged off and threw my phone in my bag, trying to ignore my pathetic self. I had a job, and that was good enough for now. I’d be able to help buy groceries and pay bills; the fun stuff could wait. My stop came up and I gathered my things, making my way back to the front. The angel from earlier was still on the phone and hadn’t noticed me. She turned to get off as I was trying to get past her and smacked me right in the face with her large wings. I fell back into one of the seats, my face stinging and mouth full of feathers.
The person in that seat shoved me forward and I stumbled to the exit, getting off as fast as I could. I set my box down and spat out the feathers in my mouth, plucking a few out of my hair. Today was definitely not starting out the best. I grabbed my things and started down the street, attempting to hold myself high. Nothing was going to ruin this, not even what had just happened.
I crossed the street and arrived at the large black building, my heart leaping into my throat. The last time I’d been here, I’d been forcibly removed. Now I was coming back as an employee. Well, temporary employee, for now. I exhaled the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and pulled open one of the glass doors, walking in. The lobby didn’t look any different than it had the last time I saw it; black leather sofas and chairs pressed against the walls, magazines stacked neatly on glass coffee tables. The floor and walls were made of black marble, as was the front desk. There was a waterfall on one of the walls with a small pool filled with pennies. I’d tossed one in yesterday, wishing for the job I was now about to officially begin. I smiled and felt a weight lift off of my shoulders; this was a new beginning.
“You’re late.” I flinched and sucked in a sharp breath, twirling around. Leaning against the wall was Death, a frown plastered on his face and an eyebrow arched.
“You scared the shit out of me,” I hissed, taking one hand off of the box to place over my heart. “Do you get your rocks off by sneaking up on people?” He cocked his head slightly and I bit my tongue. That probably wasn’t the smartest thing to say to my new boss. “I, uh, I mean…” He stared at me silently, the quiet between us growing awkward, at least on my part. I shook myself. “I’m not late.”
“It’s nine o’ two.” I snorted. Shit, bad idea again. “I told you nine sharp.”
“I know, I’m sorry. There was a problem at home and then the bus-” He put his hand up, cutting me off, and pushed off the wall.
“Come,” he said, crooking a finger. I refrained from rolling my eyes and followed him. He looked at me for a moment and reached out, touching my hair. I jerked back a little and his hand returned with an angel feather in hand. I blushed. “Run in with an angel?”
“An inconsiderate one,” I replied. He hummed in amusement and nodded, turning back around and walking. My eyes wandered his body as I walked behind him, gaze settling on his ass. Nice. I was so caught up in appreciating him I nearly ran right into him when he stopped. “This is Nora.” I quickly looked up as he turned and gestured to the red-haired woman behind the front desk. “She’ll be your coworker and mentor. If you have any questions, ask her.” I smiled at the woman and shook her hand. “Now, I trust I won’t be hearing any complaints about you? After all, you can take whatever I throw at you, right?” I squinted my eyes a little, giving him a sickeningly sweet smile.
“I won’t be any problem at all, Death, you have my word.”
“Sir.”
“Hmm?”
“At work, you will address me as "Sir.” I held back another snort.
“Kinky,” I muttered under my breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, Sir.” He stared at me for a few seconds, a strange glint in his eye.
“Don’t make me regret hiring you, Miss Banks,” he said. He sounded as though he was already regretting it.
“I won’t let you down, Sir.” He let out a breath that almost sounded like a chuckle and said goodbye to both Nora and I before leaving. I stared after him, a small smile on my face; that man was something else.
“I’m glad he finally found someone,” Nora said. I snapped my head back to her.
“What?”
“To fill the job,” she explained. “I thought I’d never be able to cut back my hours.” Warmth spread through my cheeks and I nodded, smiling politely.
“I didn’t think he’d hire me to be honest,” I laughed. “He must love me.” She laughed and pulled up a chair for me, sitting in her own. I gladly sat down, setting my box in my lap.
“The only love the boss has is for his siblings, I’m afraid.” I frowned slightly.
“Really? I saw him with his brother during my interview and he seemed like he’d have thrown him through the window if he had the chance.” Nora laughed.
“Which one? Strife?” I nodded. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen those two get along, though they might behind closed doors; I’ve only ever interacted with them at work.” I nodded slowly. I wondered how people saw me and my sisters. We loved each other to eternity, but in public it could definitely seem like we didn’t care for each other.
Maybe that was how Death and his siblings were?
“Anyways, I’m glad you’re here,” Nora said, breaking me out of my thoughts. “That means I can spend less time at work and more time with my little one.”
“You have a kid?” I asked. Her smile widened and she nodded, grabbing her phone and showing me her wallpaper. It was her, a bald man, and a tiny baby. It looked cute, I guess; a button nose, big green eyes and a head of black hair. I wasn’t particularly into kids. Maybe if I had a more stable life and the right person, but I never really saw the appeal. “Cute, how old are they?”
“Ten weeks,” she cooed, staring lovingly at the photo. “She’s a bit of a troublemaker but I couldn’t imagine life without her. I just want to spend every moment I can with her.” I nodded and she put her phone away, still looking like she was on cloud nine. “I’m lucky to work here. Death was very accommodating and gave me more time off than I deserved, really. When I asked to cut back my hours, he didn’t even flinch; just gave me the time I wanted and told me I’d have to train whoever he hired next.”
I smiled; that was really kind of him. Way kinder than I thought he was capable of; perhaps we’d just gotten off on the wrong foot? “Anyways, enough about me! We should probably get a crack on, shouldn’t we? There’s a busy day ahead of us.”
“Yes, we probably should,” I agreed.
****
The week flew by faster than I was expecting. Nora had showed me around the building and explained to me all of my duties. Faxing, taking calls, making calls, scheduling appointments, emailing reminders and updates, making sure visitors were checked in and given passes, keeping the lobby clean, collect and sort mail, deliver mail on some occasions, and so much more my head was spinning. The fact that she had done so much by herself for so long was baffling. No one person should’ve been able to do all she had. It almost made me regret taking the job. The paycheck coming up was the only thing keeping me sane.
“Just three more days,” I muttered, doodling on my notepad. My stomach rumbled loudly, a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I winced and curled over a little, nausea washing over me like a wave. We were scrambling to save food at home, which meant eating less than was good for us. It had been messing with me lately and today way no different. I felt like throwing up, but I knew nothing would come out if I did. There was nothing in there to vomit up.
“Az, are you okay,” Nora asked, hanging up her phone. I straightened out and gave her a reassuring smile.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied, ignoring the pain in my stomach. “Just a little hungry is all.”
“Well, lunch is coming up, so don’t worry; we’ll get some food in ya then.” I nodded at her, appreciative of her kindness. I really wanted to tell her “I don’t have money for lunch! My next meal is probably gonna come out of a trashcan!” but I didn’t. I really didn’t want anyone knowing how pathetic I was that I couldn’t even afford lunch.
“Sounds great,” was all I said. She smiled at me and picked up another call. She was only on the phone for about a minute. “Looks like the boss wants to see you.” I frowned. What had I done? I hadn’t caused trouble; at least, not enough to warrant attention. I blew out an exhausted breath and pushed away from my desk, standing.
“Alright, I guess I’ll be seeing you in a bit.” She nodded and turned back to her computer screen, typing away at an email. I went to the elevators and pushed the up button, resting my hands on my hips. I was confused, to say the least. I hadn’t raised trouble at all. Well, that wasn’t entirely true; some guy had decided to try and get handsy with me while I was delivering some mail. He’d gotten his nose broken.
I’d had to file a report about it but I hadn’t been reprimanded, nor had I heard anything about it since then. Maybe it was just now getting around to Death. I frowned a little; he better not have called me up to his office to punish me. That would piss me off more than anything else he’s done since our first meeting.
The elevator dinged, the doors opening up, and I stepped in. I smashed the top floor button and leaned back against the metal handlebar, blowing a few strands of hair out of my face. I couldn’t help but be nervous. “Maybe it’s not anything bad,” I said to myself. “Maybe he’s just curious about how you’re doing? Or he wants you to do something for him? Something that Amber can’t do? Fuck…” I shook my head and straightened up as the elevator once again dinged. I breathed deeply as the doors opened, and stepped out.
Amber didn’t even look up when I walked out, gave me the go ahead to enter Death’s office. I thanked her and quietly opened one of the doors, slipping in. Death was against his desk, half sitting and half standing, with his office phone pressed to his ear. His face was contorted into a scowl, his jaw clenched tightly and the vein in his neck popping.
“I’m not going,” he growled into the phone, thrumming his fingers against the desk. “I have no need!” The person on the other end was shouting back at him, I could hear it from my position in front of the now closed door. “I don’t care what they want, they have you, War, and Strife; that should be enough for them!" The person they were talking to got even louder, and I could hear it was a woman’s voice. “Don’t threaten me, Fury.” His face was getting red, his eyes burning brightly.
Suddenly he pushed away from the desk and threw his hand up. “As I said, I have no need to-” Fury cut him off. Death still hadn’t noticed me, so I cleared my throat loudly enough to grab his attention. He looked at me and snapped his fingers, pointing to a chair. Without thinking, I obeyed, hurrying over and plopping myself down into the seat; I had no doubt he was angry enough to fire me right then and there if I didn’t listen. I could hear a few of Fury’s words now that I was closer.
Words like “council,” and “party,” and “pull up your big boy pants before I come down there and beat you senseless.” There was also the threat of dragging him by the ear to whatever party they were all supposed to be at. I nearly laughed; this must’ve been his sister, because there was no way anyone else would’ve been able to get away with saying the things she was. After a few more minutes of fighting, Death conceded. “Fine,” he huffed, falling into his chair. “I’ll be there, but don’t expect me to play nice with others.” Fury had calmed down now too, I couldn’t hear her anymore, but I was sure she was satisfied and probably had a smug look on her face. Death said his goodbyes and hung up the phone, muttering curses under his breath. He sighed and rubbed his temples slowly, running a hand through his hair. I shifted awkwardly.
“Are you okay, Sir,” I asked softly, unsure of whether or not I should say anything. He grunted and looked at me, straightening in his seat.
“I’m fine, thank you.” I nodded, tugging at the hem of my skirt.
“Nora said you wanted me up here? Is this about that asshole on the third floor? I won’t apologize for breaking his nose, you know.” Death snorted and shook his head, his demeanor changing. He looked less annoyed than he had just a moment ago.
“Don’t worry, it’s not about that,” he assured me. “He deserved it, and has been properly removed from the company.” My eyes widened slightly; I hadn’t expected that. I thought he’d just get a slap on the wrist or something. Death clasped his hands together and cocked his head slightly. “No, I called you up here to ask how you were settling in. Anything too much for you?” I frowned a little and shrugged.
“Not really,” I explained. “It’s a little difficult having to remember everything but Nora’s been a big help. I’m worried that I might be annoying her with all of my questions.” I laughed a little and the corner of his lips turned up slightly.
“Don’t apologize; I’d rather have you ask a lot of questions and be prepared than ask none and mess things up. I’m sure Nora feels the same way.” I nodded appreciatively. My stomach rumbled loudly and I blushed.
“I’m so sorry.”
“No need. Have you had lunch yet?” I shook my head. “I should probably let you get to it then. It’s around your break time, I believe.” I nodded and thanked him, standing. The world started to swim and I felt my heart leap into my throat, my vision blurring further. My legs gave out without warning and I fell back into my seat, breathing heavily. Death was by my side almost immediately. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, sorry,” I said, rubbing my throbbing head. “I just haven’t been able to eat much lately.” I bit my tongue after the last word came out and silently cursed myself.
“What?” he asked, concern lacing his words. “What do you mean?”
“It’s nothing, really. I’m sorry for worrying you.” I tried to stand but Death sat me back down. I couldn’t really put up much of a fight.
“What do you mean, Aziza?” I looked up at him, my heart pounding. Again, with the reaction? Why did it make me feel so strange whenever he said my name? I stared into his eyes, my face growing warm, and shrugged.
“There’s not much food in the house so I’ve had to skip a few meals. It’s no big deal, I just have to wait a few days for my paycheck.” He frowned at my words and I gave him a small smile. “I’ll be fine, I just felt a little faint. It won’t affect my work, I promise.” He scoffed.
“Stay here,” he ordered, leaving me. He went to the doors and opened one of them, sticking his head out and talking to Amber. He came back a minute later and sat down behind his desk. “I had Amber order some food for you.” My eyes widened.
“You what?” I squeaked.
“I had her order a cheeseburger. Unless you’re a vegetarian?”
“I’m not, but-”
“Good, then you can wait here until the food arrives.” I stared at him, my mouth open slightly. Had he really just ordered me food? Why? I couldn’t afford to pay him back. Was he gonna take it out of my paycheck? I felt an odd sensation at the thought of him doing something like that for me; a sensation I didn’t know if I liked or not.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, trying not to sound too defensive. “I’m fine, and it’s not like you owe me anything. I need to get back to work anyways.” He rested his chin on his clasped hands, studying me carefully. My face grew warm again and I stared back at him.
“Yes, I did have to,” he said coolly. “You work in my building, which means I’m responsible for you. If you collapse on the job then I’ll have to give you time off to recover; time neither of us can afford. Nora will have to keep on full time until you recover and by the time you come back, you’ll have forgotten how everything works. Besides, I can’t have a starving receptionist; your hunger will make you forget things and then I’d have to fire you, and then where would you be? You’d be starving… Again.” I blinked, thinking over his words. He wasn’t doing this out of the kindness of his heart, which reassured me a little, but I was still uncomfortable. Even though it all made rational sense, I still felt uneasy about it.
“Okay, you’ll take it out of my pay, right?”
“No.” I sat up straighter.
“What? You have to; I don’t feel comfortable just letting you-”
“Is it that much of a deal?” He sounded amused. His lips had formed a small smirk.
“Yes, it is. You’re my boss and you’re just buying me food like I’m your girlfriend or something.” He hummed a little and leaned back in his seat, shrugging his shoulders.
“Fine, if it means that much to you, then there is something I’d like you to do.”
“Anything,” I quickly replied, feeling a bit of relief. “As long as I can do something to pay you back.” He cocked his head, a fang peeking out from his upper lip. A shiver ran down my spine.
“The company is hosting a party tomorrow night and my presence has been demanded,” he explained, rolling his eyes. “I need a date.” My eyes nearly popped out of my head. “It’s not a real date, but my sister insists I bring someone; something about she doesn’t want me embarrassing her.” I started to ask why he didn’t take Amber, but he beat me to it. “My brothers will be there, and Amber and Strife are not friendly with each other. Also, she has plans for that night.” I nodded, my stomach twisting into knots. My palms started to sweat and I clenched my hands into fists. I couldn’t exactly say no, not after he bought me food. I didn’t even know why he was asking me; we weren’t exactly friendly with one another. In fact, this was the first time since I’d began working here that we’d seen each other.
“Why ask me?”
“Why not?” I frowned, cocking my head like he’d done not long ago. That wasn’t really the answer I wanted, but it looked like that was the only one I was getting.
“I don’t exactly have the clothing for a party, and I don’t know how I should act.”
“You don’t have to act any way, just be yourself. As for clothes, I’ll have something picked up for you.” This was too weird to get my head wrapped around. “You don’t have to come with me, Aziza.” I flicked my eyes back to his. “I can face my sister’s wrath, don’t worry. I only asked because you seem bent on repaying me.”
“I’ll do it,” I quickly replied. “I’m just worried I’ll embarrass you or something.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. I was worried about doing something embarrassing, I just wasn’t worried about it affecting him.
“Strife will be the embarrassing one, don’t worry about that.” I scoffed playfully and leaned back in my seat. “I’m serious, Aziza, you don’t have to come.”
“I said I’ll do it and I’ll do it.” My words were final. I wasn’t going to back out because I was a little uncomfortable, even though that’s exactly what I wanted to do. Death hummed softly and stared at me, an almost soft look in his eyes. “Just know that I have a hard time keeping a filter on myself.” Death chuckled.
“Perfect.”
23 notes · View notes
madamslayyy · 5 years
Text
For The Love Of Okoye
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Pairing: T’Challa x Okoye, Erik x Okoye (kinda)
A/N: Y’all I haven’t written for T’Challa in forever. This is based off THIS POST that I wrote BEFORE BLACK PANTHER CAME OUT so please keep in mind it’s a little dated. I also wrote this last year but never released it and I’m tired of it taking up space in my draft so I’m just releasing it. Yes Haw ✌🏾(P.S. this isn’t edited so please forgive any mistakes but I’ll go back and fix it later 😁)
Special Thanks to the AMEEZING @wifin-niggaz who made the gifs I used. If you’re a BP OG you probably alrady know her but if not please check out her work, she’s insanely talented!!!
~*~
Growing up, T’Challa didn’t have many friends. He was royalty, however that seldom had anything to do with his interaction with people as his father tried his hardest to help his son not be isolated from his peers due to his status. No, the problem lied in that he was always much too mature for his age. While other kids would play hide and seek, T’Challa would wonder the purpose of the game in the first place. Why were we hiding?
That being said, he tried to join in anyway. That never really worked out too well either seeing as he always came up hiding places that were too elaborate or creative and the other children could never find him.
That is until he met Okoye.
He was hiding in the alcove of a small shop when she first saw him. He had to only be about 5 years old as was she. She looked up at him with her big brown eyes and her huge pineapple of hair on her head and simply stared at him. He stared back. Neither of them moved and it stayed that way for the longest until she poked him with a stick.
“Ow! Why would you do that?” T’Challa whispered and Okoye jumped back.
“I thought you might not be real,” she huffed. “ what you doing up there anyway?”
“I’m hiding. We are playing Hide and Seek.”
“Why? Why would you hide for no reason?”
“Because it’s fun,” T’Challa said even though he hadn’t had fun once ever playing with the other kids in town.
“My father says it imbrains cowardice,” she said matter of fact.
“Imbrains?”
“Mmhm.”
“I think you mean ‘Ingrains’,” T’Challa said climbing down from his hiding spot. She was a few inches taller than the boy Prince naturally but her hair amassed on top of her head made her seem even taller.
“Pssh, what would you know,” she said rolling her eyes and walking away. T’Challa couldn’t help but follow.
~*~
T’Challa and Okoye were quickly as thick as thieves. With both of them being more mature for their age, they found each other’s company easy and enjoyable. T’Challa would normally never lay a finger on any woman however Okoye wasn’t just any woman. She was a warrior in the making. And she was the only one in his class that could keep up with him when it came to training. So it was only natural that she was his routine sparring partner.
They were known to get pretty vicious during these sessions, no code of honor in place for the two young Wakandans. They would play any and every dirty trick in the book on each other if it ensured their victory.
During one particular session they were in the red room alone which meant their session was more cruel than usual as there were no eyes to judge them. Okoye, a mere fifteen years of age, had already managed to give the prince a black eye and bloody nose. T’Challa, also fifteen at the time, had grown considerably since they were children and now stood almost an foot taller than Okoye herself with a small clump of her hair in his hand, an insult to the teeth marks he engraved on her left shoulder only a couple moments earlier.
“You’ll pay for that!” Okoye y’alled before lunging at him. T’Challa predicted this but lost his footing at the last possible second, allowing Okoye to pin him to the ground. She straddled his waist, locking him in with her hips, rendering him completely immobile.
“I win,” she grinned, her eyes shining with mirth.
“Alright Alright I concede, now get the hell off me!” T’Challa bellowed, causing Okoye to let go of him, standing with a giggle.
“Oh come now, my prince. Ever you can’t be that upset over a loss, surely it’s not the first nor the last,” Okoye called after him as he stormed out of the training room.
T’Challa rushed into the nearest restroom, looking down at his embarrassing erection that sprouted the second Okoye pinned him to the ground. He wasn’t sure if it was the act of being subdued by a woman or her ample bottom pressed against his groin but it ignited a fire inside of him that he didn’t know could be stirred by Okoye of all people.
He’d always seen her as his oldest friend, a worthy opponent, even a trusted confidant at times but never as a.....potential mate. It was unfathomable to say the least. Or it was.... until T’Challa began to give the notion actual thought. And that was the moment he realized just how fathomable it actually was.
~*~
Four years later. Four long years later and T’Challa found himself even more infatuated with Okoye than ever.
She’d recently been accepted into the Dora Academy to begin her training to become one of the Milaje and the first requirement of the academy was for every young lady to shave her head. So with her acceptance into her new life, Okoye cut off the long trestles she’s been growing her entire existence without a second thought. And T’Challa couldn’t say he missed them in the least.
He was obsessed with the shape of her head. The perfect curve of her scalp, smooth and flawless, much like her face. T’Challa would often find himself wondering if she was that smooth and flawless everywhere....
Even Erik, forever stuck in his American ways, couldn’t deny praise to such a lovely form as she.
“Who told yo bald headed ass to look that good,” Erik joked as he walked into T’Challas room. Interrupting T’Challas precious and scarce time with his beloved.
“Nah but seriously though, it suits you,” Erik proclaimed, finding a seat across from her. She rolled her eyes but couldn’t deny the smirk that tipped the corners of her lips. Then her and Erik exchanged a look that didn’t quite settle right with T’Challa.
He was no fool. He knew his cousin had a certain aura about him that drew women to him, especially Wakandan women who were enthralled by his American bravado. But he’d thought his Okoye was above Erik tacky charm. With Erik being two years younger than both of them, she’d never entertained him for even a moment but things were different now.
Erik was rapidly leaving his boyhood behind, his heaight already equaling T’Challas even at the tender age of seventeen. He’d also began filling out, his once scrawny frame becoming engrossed with muscles that hadn’t been possible before.
“You’re dismissed N’Jadaka,” T’Challa stated coldly, causing both Okoye and Erik to look at the stoic prince before they both burst into laughter.
“Aight bet cuzzo. I’ll see yo lil fine ass later,” Erik winked at Okoye before sauntering off.
“I certainly hope not,” Okoye scoffed but T’Challa still detected a hint of mirth behind her eyes.
“Are you sure about that?” T’Challa couldn’t help the slight relief he felt when he heard her melodic laugh.
“The boy is as foolish as they come! Such clownery has never appeased me,” she giggled and T’Challa felt his heart flutter.
~*~
“Happy Birthday!!” They all chanted in unison while Erik smirked at the small crowd. It was his 21st birthday and the palace decided to recognize him in the same manner as T’Challa for once by granting him an extravagant party in the ballroom of the palace.
Erik was dressed in an extravagant gold and black tuxedo, his hair intricately braided back with gold dust interwoven to give him a shimmering appearance. With his custom made gold slugs in his mouth giving his canines an extra sharpness he looked like the living personification of a handsome devil.
Everyone of importance was there, not necessarily because they meant anything to Erik but because no one would miss an event hosted by the Royal court. So it was only natural Okoye would be there as well, finally having time to attend such social gatherings since her induction into the Dora Milaje has finally commenced.
The night was loud and long, with more alcohol and food going around that anyone could possible consume. T’Challa having reached his limit reframed from any more drinking to prevent making a fool of himself as a Prince and as a man. Erik, however, had no such qualms.
He took shot after shot, long ago abandoning his suit jacket and tie, giving him even more appeal than usual. His muscles protruded through his thin button down and he was garnering even more female attention than usual. Even Okoye, to T’Challa’s dismay, couldn’t keep her hands off of him.
T’Challa tried many times to break the two of them apart to no avail. Heavy eye contact soon turned to heavy petting with Okoye eventually ending up in Erik’s lap. T’Challa could have strangled Erik right then right there. How dare he corrupt the love of his life!? The strong warrior he’d always known had been reduced to a giggling schoolgirl right before his eyes.
“Okoye, please. This is no way for a Dora to present herself. Think of the young women who look up to you now,” T’Challa pleaded.
“Like who?” Okoye quipped, Erik’s grip on her thigh the only thing keeping her from sliding off his lap and onto the floor.
“Like Nakia for one,” T’Challa said nodding towards the aforementioned girl across the room. Nakia just a couple months younger than Erik but everyone knew of her burning desire to change the world and become a Dora. She also held a great respect for Okoye, seeing as how they hailed from the same tribe prior to Okoye entering the academy for the Dora.
“Trust, it’s not me she’s looking at,” she cackled, a huge smirk spreading across Erik’s face. Whatever the joke was, he was obviously in on it. Suddenly T’Challa began to feel like a fool. Here Okoye and Erik were, sharing inside jokes and wrapping in each others arms while T’Challa stood there pathetically trying to coax her out of his arms.
He was also taking the chance of going against the Dora Milaje Honor Code. Erik might have no respect for the staunch traditions carried out by the Milaje but T’Challa did. So he left the two of them to their own devices while he found three older Dora who were currently the protection of the event. Informing them of their comrade’s disposition, he left the party without a word, fuming.
~*~
The next morning T’Challa found himself headed to the throne room for his daily reports when Okoye ran to him, tears in her eyes!
“How could you!?” She screamed at the top of her lungs.
“How could I what?” T’Challa asked with genuine concern.
“I’ve been dismissed from the Dora! For fraternizing with the crown! T’Challa my entire standing with them is ruined,” she wailed, tears streaming down her face. T’Challa reached to comfort her but she slapped his hand away harshly.
“This is all your fault!” She yelled and T’Challa felt his anger blossom.
“Maybe you should have thought about your standing before you decided to spread your legs for my cousin,” T’Challa said coldly and Okoye slapped him, his head reeling to one side.
“I hate you! You’re dead to me!” She spat before running off. T’Challa touched his stinging cheek, the effect of her words hurting more than her slap ever could.
~*~
T’Challa drug himself into his father’s office later that evening with a heavy heart. He knew he shouldn’t use his Royal position for such selfish, secular tasks but for the first time in his life, T’Challa didn’t care about the honor of the crown. He didn’t care about nepotism, favoritism, or responsibility. All he cared about was doing right by the woman he loved and if that meant bending the rules then that was a small price to pay in his book.
“Father May I come in?” T’Challa asked knocking at the door.
“Of course, my son,” T’Chaka answered jovially. It was a rare occasion his son came to his office without being summoned.
“Take a seat, son,” he said, looking up from the papers he was focused on prior to T’Challa’s visit.
“What brings you to me, my boy.” T’Chaka asked, still surveying his paperwork.
“It’s Okoye, baba. She has been dismissed from the Dora Milaje. There must be a way she can be reinstated. By order of the crown.” T’Challa said seriously even though his heart was racing. He was nervous because being in his father’s presence always made him nervous.
“T’Challa, you are both a man and a Prince. You are the Black Panther of Wakanda. The Milaje are an independent agency that the crown has no control over, however, they have always been one to listen to reason. Especially that of royal blood.” T’Chaka smiled. T’Challa understood immediately, rising from his chair.
“Thank you, Baba. As always your counsel is invaluable.” T’Challa Bowes, heading towards the door.
“Just be mindful, T’Challa, that once she is reinstated in the Dora, it’s over. She will never be your wife. She will never be your Queen.” T’Chaka said solemnly. T’Challa didn’t even have to ask, he knew his was aware of his feelings. T’Chaka always has a way of knowing what was in his son’s heart.
“I know, Baba,” and with that T’Challa left, somehow feeling worse than before.
~*~
A week later T’Challa found himself walking down the one of the corridors of the palace, lost in his own thoughts when he felt two arms wrap around his torso from behind.
He knew immediately from the soft scent of orchids that it was none other that his love, Okoye.
“Thank you so much, my Prince,” she said nuzzling her face into his back.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” T’Challa said turning around in her embrace, a sad smile gracing his features.
“Whatever you said to the Dora worked. They’ve allowed me back under the guise of probation,” her eyes shone with pure joy.
“I simple spoke to your strength and leadership. Nothing I said was untrue,” T’Challa nodded, letting her go.
“Still, I owe you a great debt. Without you, there wouldn’t have been a second chance,” she said gravely.
“Well try not to loose it this time, eh. At least not over the likes of Erik,” he said conveniently not mentioning the fact that he was the only other option.
“Pfft, after his... performance last night, I don’t think I’ll ever touch another man again. He was squealing like a newborn lemur in a matter of seconds,” she scoffed. T’Challa pinched the bridge of his nose. That was more given information he’d ever needed to know about his Cousin.
~*~
Epilogue:
“Baby PLEASE give me one more chance! I know I can do better,” Erik begged, following Okoye.
“The answer, respectfully your highness, is HELL NO!”
“That’s wasn’t me baby, I promise I don’t nut quick! You just do something to me baby girl,”
“I don’t care! It’s never gonna happen-“
“We already-“
“AGAIN! Its never gonna happen AGAIN.” Okoye finished running faster, trying to give Erik the slip.
“Please baby just one more chance. I’ve never had pussy like your-
“I LIKE WOMEN N’JADAKA!”
“Me too, so you feel where I’m coming from-“
THE END
~*~
Taglist:
@chaneajoyyy @queennanayaa @terrablaze514 @cancerianprincess @bidibidibombaclaat @royalhearts @yoyolovesbucky @mbakusmbitch @ @notsomellowmushroom @ultracrii @jesforpres @thehomierobbstark @thadelightfulone @amelatonin @quietstorm-73 @destinio1 @wakanda-inspired @wawakanda-btch @steampunkprincess147 @purple-apricots @macfizzle @caswinchester2000 @marvelmaree @supersizemeplz @all-the-blog-names-were-gone @savagescorpion @ghostfacekill-monger @raysunshine78 @blessingz2x2 @sydneebleu @erikaintdead
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nedxwynert · 5 years
Text
All Eyes on You | Bucky Barnes x Reader
Request:  131. "You could have died." Bucky Barnes plz
Summary: Bucky Barnes was a stubborn man and always thought of you as a person who will get hurt easily. When your boss, Nick Fury sends you two on a mission to spy on a rogue agent, it'll change how you see the soldier completely.
Warnings: mentions of blood, protective Bucky, swearing, angst, crying, betrayal, Bucky being an ass, perverts, sexual harassment
Word Count:  3,836 (this is a long boi)
Masterlist
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Some people in today's world hate their job, some people love it. You were the ones to be in the middle. Why was that you may ask?
Well the best part of your job was that you were working with S.H.I.E.L.D., the best and the top agency in the nation. You get to go to many different parts of the world with your missions, some places you never even heard of and learned to love.
Another was to have this adrenaline rush in your body when you went out to do a mission. None of which you could feel in a boring office cubicle. You were also a specially trained spy, and boy were you awesome at your job.
But the best thing of it all was that when the leader, Nick Fury himself, wanted someone he can trust, he would always pick you. To be able to be his most trusted was one thing that was more than rare and you were proud to have his trust.
But what was the worst part of your job? James Buchanan Barnes. Or how he likes to be called, Bucky.
Sure, he has his amazement of his stunning rugged looks and appealing body muscles that look like god spent his precious time sculpting him, but when you and him go on a mission, you butted heads more than you realise like siblings would do fighting over the last cookie, but it got worse over the time. It was getting to the point where it was moving more to just whenever you're just with him such as in hanging out at the base or whenever you went to do your morning workout in the gym.
When you and Bucky first met, he kept seeing you as someone who will easily 
get hurt. In other words, he was being highly protective with you on the missions. He would make you hide and stay clear of the danger then have himself do all the fighting when you were fully aware how to break someone's nose and dislocate their arm with a simple move. Bucky didn't think that way no matter how much you argue with him that you were trained to get information no matter what the cost was. Even if it costed your life.
The moment you saw how he was getting a bit too far with his protectiveness, seeing how you can't cut apples at the base anymore or go on ladders to grab something or put something up, you had enough of this.
It was early in the morning when you heard your alarm waking you up, the blaring beeping noise making you groan. When you looked at the time, your room still dark, you groaned even more as in why the hell was your alarm waking you up at this time. It was then you saw that it was a request from your boss, Fury.
"5AM? You gotta be fucking kidding me." Grumbling into your pillow, you zombily got out of bed and went to the bathroom to fix your hair and clean your face.
The moment you walked to his office, you didn't realise you were still in your long large rainbow cat shirt, your pink shorts and outrageously bright rainbow coloured fuzzy socks. A dark blush settling into your cheeks when you saw you weren't alone in the room.
"Morning sleeping beauty," chuckled Bucky as he turned around in one of the office chairs in front of Fury's desk, those ocean eyes raking up and down your body and a ridiculously bright smile on his lips you would very much like to slap off of his face. He's lucky that he looks too pretty or else you would've beat the shit out of him.
"Good morning, idiot." Shuffling to the office chair next to his, rolling your eyes to the point they could look into your skull from how he still couldn't stop giggling like a schoolgirl from your nighttime outfit. It only stopped when heavy footsteps were heard that were obviously your boss', both standing up when you saw him walk into the room.
"You two argue more than an old married couple. I'm surprised you two aren't married yet because of it," chuckled Nick as he walked to behind his desk. It was only then when his eyes met....well....eye met your outfit and you could see that goofy smirk on his lips before he motioned you both to sit back down as he picked up a file on his desk and opened it, sliding it to you. "I know it's early, but I need both of you for this mission and I need information fast before things get out of hand."
Your hands found the file and held it, searching through it as Bucky was trying to glance at it as well like a kid trying to look over the counter. It held pictures of two young men who were agents here at S.H.I.E.L.D. that kept a look after the weapons in storage. But your eyes looked over to one of the pictures of the agents. It hit you hard when you saw who it was.
One of them was your friend.
Well, now he wasn't anymore by how the papers are saying that there has been weapons going missing and other agents taking suspicion over the two men. Fury looked at you when you stared at the picture of your friend, clearing his throat to try to get your attention. "Agent Y/N, I know you're in touch with one of these men, and I want you to push these feelings aside. It'll jeopardise the mission. Do you understand?" Eyes looked up from the picture to the bald man who now leaned against the desk in front of you, arms crossed. Bucky took this moment to snatch the folder out of your hands and looked through it. "Yes, sir."
You hated to think that you'll probably kill your friend. The one who helped you during hard nights and made you laugh in the mornings. He made you feel better after the mess with Bucky and you didn't want to lose that feeling of someone there to comfort you
 ___________
Tears dripped down your cheeks as you sat in your bed Your sobs stopped when you gasped when the door to your bedroom opened. You hoped it wasn't Bucky, but luck was with you tonight when you saw a tired blonde poke his head in.
"Y/N?" Once his eyes saw that you were quickly wiping your cheeks with your sleeve, he took that as a sign that you were in a need to be comforted, stepping inside your room and closing the door gently behind him so it didn't alert anyone else nearby. "Why are awake? It's 2AM." A sniffle broke the short silence while he sat on your bed, being careful not to touch you unless you gave him the consent to. You tried your best to hold back your sobs, but that failed horribly as you thought back of what happened that day with Bucky.
You were with him on a mission, sneaking into a base to grab some papers of some incoming threats. It was going well before Bucky saw you getting a few hits from a few guards who saw you. You never saw him so mad, trying his best not to just kill the men who dare lay a hand on you, but when the mission was complete and you were heading back home, he snapped at you. Of course you have been yelled at a lot with your work. When Bucky yelled at you, it was different. It took a lot of strength to not to cry you saw how irritated he was at you for getting hurt. It was so sudden and so hurtful, you didn't have enough time to say something back. So to say, the rest of the ride home was silent while the air was drenched in rage around Bucky.
You told your friend everything that happened, ending up with him wrapping his arms around you while you sobbed the pain out.
"At least give me the right to punch him in the face, Y/N." The crying stopped as it was replaced with giggles. Teary eyes looked up to the male, brown ones looking back as he wiped the tears that rolled down your cheeks with his thumb, happy to see that he could at least make you giggle.
"As much as I want you to, I don't want you to get involved into this mess and then see it escalate even more. At some point it has to be me punching him in the face." A smile curled at your lips before you decided to give your friend one last hug and bidding him to go back to bed once the tears stopped and you were feeling better. But he would always stand in the doorway and look back at you to know if you were really okay, leaving before you got up to shoo him away back to his room.
That night was one of the worst, but it was better after him stopping by and talking to you of what happened between you and Bucky, and making you giggle at how badly he wants to punch the guy who was making his friend this upset. He was all you had to talk to without other people spreading it out like highschool drama when all you want is a one on one conversation where it was only between the two of you. You wouldn't know what to do if you never met him.
___________
"You two will leave in an hour. Other information will be informed when you're on your way." With a quick motion of his hand, the two of you left the room and went to were your gear was. You could feel the super soldier's eyes bore into the back of your head, but you paid no attention to him. The only thought that was going through your mind was your friend who has a high possibility of dying today and another high possibility that it was you to end his life.
It wasn't long until you arrived at a coffee shop in Queens, New York. Sitting outside, you got a perfect view of where the two rogue agents were gonna meet across the street, but deep inside you wished you didn't see your friend show up. You were thinking of all the possibilities of trying to save your friend if he attacked you, but they were interrupted by a voice in your ear piece that made your coffee now bitter to your tongue.
"So who is this guy? Is he like..your boyfriend?" The tone of the soldier sounded like he was trying to hide jealousy behind it, knowing very well how he gets when he is jealous. He just can't stop getting into your business when he does. In a way it was kinda cute but highly annoying. You scoffed and kept your head into the book you were 'reading', sipping the coffee. "Why do you care, Barnes?" Eyes left the book to over to the table in front of you where he sat, looking dorky in his undercover outfit. "Are you jealous of him?" You said in a snarky tone, smirking against the rim of the cup.
"No," he replied quickly. "Was just curious." He paused for a moment and looked into his cup filled with the dark liquid and swished it around. "I see the way he acts around you. Reminds me of the time Steve got a little tipsy at a party when I got to be enlisted into the army. Little punk was flirting with every girl he could see." A deep chuckle left his lips, glancing up to see him smile at the memory before those blue eyes looked over at you and you quickly looked back down to your book in hopes that he didn't notice you were staring at him. "I may be a hundred years old, doll, but I know when a man is lovestruck by a gal." You rolled your eyes. Bucky must've seen you when you did that as his chuckle filled your ear again.
Just as you were taking a drink, he couldn't hold back but say, "but I don't blame the guy. I would've been flirting with you if he didn't take my place so soon." Hot liquid suddenly spilled onto your shirt, feeling it go down the wrong way in your throat and making you cough while people around looked at you, trying to alter yourself on what you just heard Bucky say to you.
Before you could even say anything back, your eyes found the man you dreaded to see, the other agent right beside him as they stopped in one of the alleyways, still getting a perfect view of the two while they talked. You wished you could hear what they were talking about, trying your best to not stare when they looked around for anything or anyone suspicious, like you. Both of you were ready for anything to happen, your hand gracing at the belt around your jeans where your pistol was hidden and knew very well that Bucky was doing the same. The loud thumping in your ear from your heart racing didn't help you when you were trying to focus on their lips on what they were saying. But one thing did and you felt your heart race even more like it was about to explode.
They were talking about a bomb.
"We need to move." Closing your book, you stood and carried your cup to the waste bin before taking a glance at Bucky. "I think one of them has a bomb."
Immediately after you said that, you could see how tense his shoulders got and his head quickly turned to the two men across the street. "Stay here," he said lowly as he also stood up, making his way towards you to toss his cup. Here we go again.
"You aren't one to give me orders, Buck. I'm going whether you like it or not. Fury ask us to do this mission. Not just you." The look he gave you was surprising. He was shocked at you by the way you just talked to him. You spun on your heels and began to walk the sidewalk where you can get to a crosswalk and get closer to your target. Their words came out clearer as you got closer to them and you wished you didn't hear them. The voice of your friend sent chills down your spine. His words were so cruel and nothing like the man who would laugh with you cause of some stupid memes or the friend who had your back and comforted you on hard nights where you could let your emotions out. He betrayed you.
"So what about this girl you have been keeping an eye on? Y/N was her name, right?" You heard the other agent say.
"Don't you mean Fury's little pet?" He laughed coldly and it stung you. "Don't worry. I have her close by my side. Little bitch can give me a headache with all the moping she does in her room." They both chuckled. "And don't get me started on her whorish crush on Barnes. I honestly don't know how she finds that guy attractive."
The flower you were holding from a small flower stand dropped when you heard him talk about your secret. You never actually told him about your little crush on Bucky. How in the hell did he know? You kept all of those feelings locked away in a journal under your bed. Bastard must've stolen it one night he heard you crying.
"But believe me. For being Fury's little pet, she does have a nice body that I wouldn't mind getting my hands all over. You should see her in the shower, man. She has an ass that most men dream of."
This fucking pervert! He even watched you when you were taking a shower?
The rage in your body couldn't contain itself anymore and you stormed your way over to that alleyway, walking straight to them while they still talked. They didn't notice you at first but once you were so close to the ass who dares to talk about you like this, you didn't hold back your fist that rammed into his face as it knocked him back and stumbled his perverted ass onto the hard concrete floor. The other agent swinged at you but you simply blocked and punched him not as hard as you did to the blonde.
"Y/N." he purred in a way it made you sick of how your name left his lips, "You have quite the swing for a whore." He used the back of his hand to wipe the blood that was dripping from his lips, your anger boiling even more inside of you by the names he dared to give you.
"Shut your fucking mouth!" Eyes glared at him as your chest heaved, fists still clenched as you stood there while they got back up for another fight. They laughed at you like as if you were a kid trying to fight them. "Awww. Did I hurt your wittle feelings?" His pouted his lip at you, looking down at you.
"I said to shut your fucking mouth," you growled. They laughed again, but it soon stopped when they looked over your shoulder and were now pale in the face.
"I best suggest to do what she says." Oddly enough, the sound of Bucky's voice was now soothing to you, hearing him walk next to you as you could also hear the metal plates in his arm move from him clenching his fist. The men's eyes went from Bucky to you where you had a dangerous look in your eyes. That dread you once felt for killing your friend earlier today was long gone. He betrayed you and no one gets out alive with that with you.
The two agents charged at you and Bucky, but they were no match to you both. Many punches were thrown, managing to get a few in and a bruising one close to your eye where you know very well that you'll get a black eye later. Bucky on the other hand? He kept to his target and was still holding back the urge to kill them all, blocking punches that were weak against his super soldier strength, taking his time on beating up the agent.
When they fell to the floor with another bone crunching punch, they breathed heavily and looked up to you where anger never failed to stop boiling. The blonde clutched his stomach where you got a few blows in, he started to laugh and spit the blood in his mouth to on your shoes. "What is so funny?" This time it was Bucky to snap at them. The man just kept on laughing and he looked at you with his brown eyes, a smirk coming to his red lips.
"You don't fight good when you're angry, Y/N. You always forget what you had on you when that little blood starts to boil." Before you could even make a move when you went to reach for your pistol and notice that it was gone, you saw him pull your gun out from his pocket and heard him fire a round as it echoed the alley walls of New York, a sudden pain in your body and the feeling of wetness that made your clothes stick to your skin. You went to see where he shot you but your vision narrowed all around and everything was blurry. Next thing you know, all you could see was black.
The only thing that brought you back from the darkness was a noise that constantly beeps in your ears. Then you could see the bright light that was too much for your eyes to quickly adjust to. Once they did had their time to, the room you were in wasn't one you were familiar with and it confused you. That is until you looked down and saw that you were laying in a hospital bed.
When you went to move yourself up, a groan left your parched lips and soon you felt a touch on your arm and a shushing tone to relax.
"Y/N? Thank god. I thought I lost you there for a second." The voice was familiar and when you could see better and your eyes were no longer blurry, Bucky's face came to view.
"It's tough to get rid of me, Buck," you chuckled, instantly regretting it as the pain erupted from your stomach and you groaned. Blue eyes never left you as they held something in them you haven't seen before. That's when you looked down and saw as he would take your hand into his flesh one and lifted it to his lips. "You could have died back there. When I saw what he was doing, I should've stepped in front of you. Seeing you this much in pain is hard to see."
Bucky was always the one to protect you, and now he failed to do that like every other person he tried to protect from both himself and others.
"Don't blame this on yourself. I should've trust the guy anyways." Your cheeks felt hot as you could see how much he cared for you and how he held your hand as if it were touched by the gods. When those ocean eyes met yours again, you couldn't help but gulp and feel the butterflies in your stomach begin to move. Only if you wished to know, but Bucky's stomach was doing the same thing as you gazed at each other.
It felt like forever before one of you broke the awkward silence between you two, still blushing when you saw that he was still holding your hand. It was like two socially awkward teenage kids with how you two were acting, giving glances at one another and smiling softly. Only that Bucky was acting more nervous like he wanted to tell you something.
The brunette cleared his throat and averted his eyes from you and you could hear the nervousness in his voice when he asked you, "W-will you allow me to m-make it up to you for all of this and...um...go out on a d-date with me?" The most deadly assassin in history, sitting here next to your bed, nervous as hell to ask you on a date. How ironic to find that he can get so cute when he's nervous.
"On one condition." He finally looked back at you, his knee bouncing more nervously in what you had to say. "I get to pick where we go to eat."
Thank you for reading! Did you enjoy? If so, please consider to heart and reblog. Many writers today don’t get much credit for the hard work they put into their writing. And with that, have a wonderful day! :)
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lilacmoon83 · 5 years
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Dreaming Out Loud
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Chapter 107: Click Your Heels Together Three Times
Frollo seethed angrily, as he watched Snow White and her army overthrow his King and imprison him again. It had been a few months now since everything had occurred. Naturally, he had been ready to interfere and make sure this was one battle that she lost, but the battle between the Gods had rattled the heavens in a violent way and to his horror, Zeus had been dethroned by Persephone and she now ruled in his place. And he wasn't sure that he, even with all his new powers, could challenge her. Yet. He paced the expanse of his new laboratory, inside Bald Mountain, anxiously. He was infuriated by this turn of events. For all intents and purposes, Snow White and her mother had ended the war and now each sat on their respective Thrones.
"There must be a way to turn things back in my favor," he brooded, as he looked through his books and finally chose the one labeled, "The Black Cauldron."
It was the book he had obtained with the Cauldron he used in his work with alchemy and scientific experiments. It now aided him in melding magical spells with science and had been used to create the magic suppressing cuffs and the gauntlets he had encased Midas' hands with to prevent him from utilizing his touch. It was powerful and he had acquired it from three witches and stole it from them. He still remembered one of the witches warning him about the power of the Cauldron and how it could doom the world if its power didn't remain under control. But Frollo paid her no mind and he had the witches taken back to his home country where they were executed for being exactly what they were.
He leafed through the ancient spell book and took note of the many powerful spells. There was one where the Cauldron could create an undead army and though he knew such could give Persephone and the Gods quite the challenge, it wasn't enough. He needed to take their magic completely and that would require more than just magic suppressing cuffs.
"What you need...is a curse," a voice interjected and Frollo turned to find the disgraced and now very mortals forms of Zeus and Deimos.
"And how could you possibly help me in anyway now?" Frollo questioned.
"With knowledge, of course. I still have all my knowledge," Zeus countered.
"And what do you mean by curse?" Frollo asked.
"I know for a fact that Queen Regina seeks to cast a dark curse that will take us all to a Land Without Magic. She wishes to punish those that have wronged her and sending them to Wonderland and Oz won't suffice her for long. She'll seek to take her enemies with her," Zeus responded.
"And why would I care about this curse or want to go to a place without magic?" Frollo questioned.
"Yes, I suppose that is offensive to your monster-half, but to your human side, this land would be very appealing. It may not have magic, but it is a land where science dominates," Zeus continued.
"Interesting...but what do I gain with a curse?" he questioned.
"Because the curse is whatever who casts it wants it to be. You could control the lives of everyone, in a land where they would have no memories. You could make your enemies miserable, reward your allies...and have whomever you want in your bed," Deimos tempted.
"Yes...no Bishop or church to scold you for wanting the pleasures of the flesh; something any man wants," Zeus purported.
"You would rule...with our assistance, of course. You could be a Judge again and punish your enemies. Your enemies in chains...and your allies in power," Deimos added.
"And how do I get this curse from Queen Regina?" Frollo questioned.
"You let her cast it and then you crash in and take it over at the last minute," Zeus said. Frollo paced in the chamber and looked into the Cauldron, as it became his viewing pool. He observed a grand celebration at Midas' Palace, with Snow White on the arm of her shepherd husband, celebrating their victory. Hades and Persephone were there too, drinking to their victory and doting on their precious, golden little family. He seethed at that. It was preposterous that that demon family was now in power when it should be him and King Arawn.
"Or better yet...you make a deal with Queen Regina. She doesn't look entirely happy about all this happiness and bliss," Deimos observed.
"Hmm...an alliance with Regina could be beneficial, especially with the kind of misery I could promise everyone," Frollo stated, as he watched her converse with the Dark One.
"Rumpelstiltskin is a problem though. As long as he is pulling her strings, the curse will eventually be broken," Zeus advised.
"The Dark One wants it cast, but also wants it broken?" Frollo inquired.
"Yes...he has built in a fail safe to the curse. Snow White and Prince Charming's true love. They will birth the Savior that will break the curse and right now, that Savior is already in the womb of Snow White," Zeus confirmed, as they watched Prince David put his hand on his wife's abdomen, his face lit with a beaming smile.
"The child will have magic?" Frollo asked.
"Yes...she will be born with an abundance of light magic and save her parents, as well as their people. Athena has foretold it," Zeus responded.
"But Athena did not count on me or my interference," Frollo countered.
"Tell me everything about this curse" he requested.
~*~
The ball at Midas' castle was perhaps the grandest that any of them had seen in many years. In her childhood, Snow didn't care for them as her father's court was always very unkind to her. But to attend one with the man she loved was an exciting event. She wore a beautiful sleeveless orchid gown and David was dressed in a grayish/silver ensemble with a white sash. Snow gazed at him dreamily, as they danced closely. Probably too closely than was proper at a formal ball, even for a married couple, but neither of them cared, nor was anyone going to tell the daughter and son-in-law of Persephone that they were being "too affectionate,"
"What are you thinking?" he whispered, as they swayed with her flush against him.
"About how happy I am...these last few months of peace. I could get used to it...no more fighting...and a family," she said, as she bit her bottom lip and searched his eyes. His soft smile became a wide grin.
"A family...oh Snow, I can't wait to have babies with you," he replied.
"So...if I told you that you won't have to wait very long...you'd be happy?" she asked. His eyes widened and he looked at her still flat stomach.
"Snow...are you?" he asked and she nodded tearfully. He hugged her tightly and kissed her passionately.
"Oh Snow…" he breathed, as he pressed his forehead against hers. They continued to sway together for quite some time and barely noticed the man that cautiously approached them. When Snow did notice him, she recognized him as the Duke that was formerly a part of her father's court; a man that she and David had quickly ousted with the rest of the old court.
"Your Majesty...I know that I have acted foolishly in the past, but I am hoping that all that can be set aside. I am ready to serve you and your husband," he said. But Snow bristled at this man's clear attempt to manipulate her.
"I watched you belittle and berate my father for years. I watched you undermine him for years. I heard you call me demon spawn, bastard, and mongrel for years. You ordered my execution on the spot without bothering to search for the truth," Snow snapped.
"You can continue to live in my Kingdom and consider that a true act of kindness that you do not deserve. But you will never be a part of my court," Snow refuted, as he slunk away.
"He had nerve," David commented.
"He did...but I'm not going to let him ruin this night for us," she replied. He smiled.
"No one, least of all him, could do that," he agreed, as he kissed her again.
As their lips parted, they saw that Midas was bringing the room to attention and the music was quieted, as he addressed the room.
"I wanted to take a moment and thank everyone for coming to this celebration. It has only been a few months since this Kingdom and many others were liberated," he began.
"King Arawn not only took my Kingdom from me, but also my magic. My people lived in fear and there was nothing I could do to help them," he continued.
"Then we were all liberated by Snow White, daughter of the Goddess Persephone, and her army. Goddess, you were gracious enough to remove the manacles that restricted my powers and for that, I am forever in the debt of you and your lovely daughter," he added. Snow suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, as Midas pandered to her and her mother. They were getting a lot of that lately and she knew some were doing it simply because it was her mother that held power now.
"To honor you for our liberation, Goddess, we have erected a monument in your honor," Midas said, as a sheet was pulled and an ivory statue in her mother's likeness was revealed.
"And now with my touch, I emblazon this monument in gold," he announced, as some still awwed when Midas displayed the use of his power. Snow winced, as her mother seemed mortified. Many of the Gods liked it when mortals made monuments to them, but her mother was not one of them. Hades chuckled.
"It's an inspiring likeness," he teased.
"You be quiet...this is not funny," she scolded, as he put his arms around her.
"Oh but it is," he disagreed and she gave him a look and then stepped forward.
"Thank you King Midas...though I think this is a bit much, I appreciate your gesture of gratitude," she said neutrally. Honestly, this was the part of ruling she would never care for. The politics and pandering.
"Nothing is too much for the one that has saved us all and that is why I did not forget to honor your lovely daughter," he continued.
"Now I'm her lovely daughter...I used to be a demon spawn," Snow deadpanned quietly to her husband.
"He used to be best pals with my father, so don't trust him for a second," James advised, as he stood close by. Midas had done his best in the last few months to distance himself from George, especially after James took the Throne. His father was still around, but James had basically stripped him of his power and he was all but a figurehead now, much to his chagrin.
"We honor Snow White and her Prince for saving us all from King Arawn!" Midas announced.
"Didn't he call me the prince of peasants a few months ago?" David whispered to her.
"Mmmhmm...he did. I'm surprised his nose isn't turning brown," she whispered back.
"I offer this tribute to you both for freeing us all from tyranny," Midas continued.
"He means he offers this as thanks that he got his gold touch back," Lancelot joked, as a sheet was pulled and another ivory statue was revealed.
"Oh...he made one of us too," Snow said nervously to her husband.
"This is the part where we have to be nice, isn't it?" David asked.
"It is," she replied.
"I definitely prefer doing the fighting versus the talking," he said.
"Thank you King Midas...it's wonderful," she said, hoping that quickly accepting his gift would get him to move on.
"Oh, but I haven't emblazoned it in gold yet," Midas replied, as he prepared to touch it.
"Oh no...I think it is better this way," Snow protested. Midas seemed perplexed by that.
"But it's not gold," he said.
"He really takes the whole gold thing to extreme, doesn't he?" David whispered to her and she elbowed him in the ribs.
"Yes, Your Majesty, but ivory is a very valuable material in our Kingdom and quite rare. We graciously accept your gift," Snow said.
"Where are we going to put that?" David asked.
"In the garden, I suppose? We can plant snowdrops around it," she replied. He nodded and shrugged.
"It is better that it's not gold. Maybe it will grow on us," he agreed and she smiled, as she felt him kiss her hair.
"Maybe our babies will have fun climbing on it someday," he whispered and her smile widened, as she looked at him.
"Babies? Like plural?" she asked. He grinned at her.
"Yeah, plural...if that's something you'd like too," he replied. She kissed his cheek.
"It's something I will love," she agreed, as the ball resumed and he swept her into his arms again, resuming their dance.
~*~
Regina rolled her eyes, as Midas presented a statue in the likeness of Snow and her Prince to everyone. All the praise for Snow and none for her, despite the fact that she set their victory in motion. Regina may have been Queen now, but she couldn't help but resent the happiness of others, especially Snow. She had what Regina was supposed to have. True love. But that was gone now. She was Queen and she had revenge on her mother and sister. But it left her with an empty feeling.
Then there was the curse, her key to truly winning and ruling all. Persephone and Hades, nor the others were allowed to interfere, and in return, she had promised to give them all good lives. But she was starting to regret that part of the deal. Getting revenge on her mother and sister had only created a deep seeded hatred inside her that was blackening her soul. She found herself wanting revenge on everyone else, just for being happier than she was.
"They're sickening, aren't they?" James commented, referring to his brother and sister-in-law. Regina smirked.
"They are. If you didn't look exactly like him, I'd never know the two of you were even related," she offered, as she saw the two of them now celebrating again, as Hades, Eli, and Persephone seemed overjoyed and were hugging the pair.
"What's that about?" Regina wondered.
"Apparently...Snow is with child," James answered, surprising Regina, though she probably shouldn't have been shocked at all.
"Snow is pregnant?" she asked. James nodded.
"Yep...just when I think my brother already has everything, he gets more," he added. And then Regina realized exactly what she was missing. The room, though large and expansive, suddenly felt very claustrophobic and she started to search for an exit.
"Oh Regina...I just wanted to thank you again," Snow said, as she stopped the other woman.
"What? For making you eat a poisoned apple?" the Queen questioned. Snow chuckled.
"Actually yes, I guess...it was better than what awaited me at Frollo's hand," she replied.
"Hmm...yes I suppose it was," Regina mused, as she suddenly imagined Snow being terrorized by the monstrous being or running for her life through the woods, while her Black Knights chased her. Or being tied to a stake and then throwing a fireball at her. It was all very appealing and horrific and she wished she wasn't thinking such things. But she couldn't help it. Snow's happiness seemed to the bane of her existence and as she looked around, she realized everyone's happiness made her feel sick and empty.
"Are you okay?" Snow asked, noticing how troubled the other woman seemed.
"I'm fine!" Regina snapped, causing Snow to recoil a bit. And then Regina imagined what it would be like if Snow was the one that felt alone and empty. With the power of the curse, she could make that happen. She could rip her Charming away and the baby. She could rip them all apart and make them as miserable as she was. That would be truly winning, wouldn't it?
"I'm fine...excuse me," Regina said, as she stormed out, leaving them to wonder about her.
~*~
"Regina...Regina...slow down!" Henry pleaded, as he followed his angry daughter to her carriage.
"I need to see the Dark One," she announced, as she prepared to get into her carriage, until she heard a voice.
"Right here, dearie…" Rumpelstiltskin said, as he appeared.
"You…" she growled.
"Ooh...a bit unhappy, are we?" he teased.
"I got rid of my mother and sister...but it's not enough! My revenge is supposed to be complete with this curse, but even when I cast it, I'll still be the one unhappy!" she realized.
"The curse is whatever you want it to be. You can use it to destroy all the happy endings if you want," Rumple offered.
"Yes...until it's broken," Frollo interjected, as he appeared.
"This is none of your concern, Chernabog," Rumple hissed dangerously.
"Broken?" Regina questioned.
"Yes...he has not told you everything. He has built a fail safe into your curse and on the child's twenty-eighth birthday, she will come to break the curse," Frollo told her.
"What child?" Regina questioned, as she looked at her mentor. But Frollo answered.
"Snow White and Prince Charming's," he revealed.
"So what you're saying is that it will be Snow that ultimately destroys my happiness?" she asked, as she glared at the Dark One.
"You've just been using me," Regina hissed.
"Well, you made yourself ripe for the picking, dearie…" he retorted unkindly, as he glared at the former Judge. He was ruining everything he had worked three hundred years for.
"What's going on?" Snow asked, as she came out with her family and gasped when she saw Frollo.
"You…" Regina hissed, as she stalked toward her with a menacing stare. David unsheathed his sword and cut her off on her path to his wife, but she used her magic to sweep him out of the way and he hit a tree.
"Charming!" Snow cried out, as she tried to rush to him, but she was stopped by Regina.
"The Dark One didn't tell me that it was your baby that can break my curse...and I can't have that," she said.
"Regina...what do you think you're doing?" Persephone warned.
"You all got your happy endings...I helped you get them! Yet I'm left with nothing!" she seethed.
"The curse will give me everything...until it won't when this brat inside you spoils it all!" she raved.
"Regina please...you're not like this…" Snow pleaded.
"How would you know?! You're too wrapped up in your perfect little life to notice me," she snapped.
"If you cast the curse now...that brat will never be born and the curse will never break. You can make it eternal misery for all," Frollo offered, as he waved his hand and the Black Cauldron appeared before them, brimming with everything needed, except the final ingredient.
"Is that...the Black Cauldron?" Hades questioned.
"It is…" Frollo confirmed.
"Why does that matter?" Eli questioned, as he helped his son-in-law to his feet.
"It will make the curse ten times larger and worse than normal," Persephone answered.
"Larger?" David questioned.
"No lands will escape," Hades replied, as David ran to Snow and put his arms around her.
"Why are you doing this?!" he demanded to know.
"Because I'm tired of losing everything. I tried to be good and it got me nothing, so it's time to try something else," Regina answered.
"The Dark One failed to tell you about the final ingredient, I'm afraid," Frollo stated.
"What are you talking about?" the Queen snapped.
"The final thing the curse requires is the heart of the thing you love most," Frollo revealed. Regina frowned and then looked at her father. He was all she had left and the only person she loved.
"Daddy…" she uttered.
"Regina...this will not make you happy," he warned, as she approached him. A tear slipped down her cheek.
"I'm sorry Daddy...but I just want to be happy. This is the only way," she said and Snow screamed, as Regina's hand went into his chest.
~*~
Emma stood in the dreamscape, horrified at how things had gone so wrong in the blink of an eye.
"She's going to cast it before I'm born…" she realized, as she looked at her hands, which were starting to look transparent.
"Hurry Emma...she's made the decision quite easy now. You must reverse everything," Athena advised.
"How? Cause unless you have a pair of ruby slippers that will let me tap my heels together three times and chant, "there's no place like home," then I think we're screwed," the blonde said sarcastically. Athena smiled.
"No need for any of that. The answer is much more simplified," Athena answered, as she
put Henry's book in her hand and Emma saw the page in it, newly written, about how Zelena had used her to enact her spell.
"I'm one of the talismans...so I need to get the other talismans," Emma realized.
"But how can I do that from here?" she questioned. Athena smiled gently.
"Emma...you are the product of true love and much more than just a talisman. You have your mother's heart and your father's courage. And you may not have as much knowledge as Rumpelstiltskin or the Gods, but you have the knowledge of love and family," Athena advised.
"My parents...and Henry…" Emma realized, as she thought about growing up with them in the dreamscape and then her son finding her. And she realized that she wanted that life back and she knew her parents would too.
"I want our life back…" Emma declared, as light erupted from her and then it engulfed the entire land…
~*~
Circe and her followers marched through the quiet town that evening. Everyone was attending the ball that night and they intended to crash it. They may have stolen magic, but as far as she could tell, they had not released it back into the town. That meant they had a small window where taking over would be possible. They were all armed with high-tech plasma weapons and it was time for a reckoning. Little could they know, the reckoning was happening without them.
"Madam Circe...look!" Captain Channing said, as he pointed at Cronus palace and they watched the roof be torn off.
"What is that?" one of her other followers asked.
"Magic…" she growled, as they suddenly watched the entire palace disappear. Next, the clock tower disappeared, then Granny's, and everything on Main Street. The magic swept around them and when it was gone, there was nothing but woods around them, like there had never been a town there in the first place.
"What the hell just happened?" Channing asked. But even Circe had no answers. Storybrooke was gone, without a trace or explanation to offer. And with it, gone was her revenge, leaving her with nothing.
Strangely, just as quickly as the town had disappeared, it started to reappear again.
"What's happening now?" Channing asked, even more confused now, as they watched a bright cloud of magic sweep around them again. This time though, the clock tower reappeared, then Granny's, and everything on Main Street. The magic continued to rebuild the town with the Sheriff's station, the school, and the Toll bridge. Storybrooke was back.
"They're back," Circe observed, as Cronus' palace reappeared. It was as if they had never been gone, but she knew better. She had a feeling whatever had happened was going to have serious ramifications; to what extent, she did not know.
"Madam Circe...something is very different…" Channing called, as she saw what he was looking at. In her very long life, she had seen many things and not much surprised her anymore. But this did.
"By the Gods...what have they done?"
~*~
They all reappeared in the ballroom, including Zelena, and looked around in a bit of confusion.
"We're back…" Persephone realized, as she looked up at her husband and they stared at each other.
"Your ruined everything for me...all of you, but especially you, Regina!" Zelena cried, but Hades was quick and ripped her necklace, the source of her power, away.
"No!" she cried, as Rumple turned her into a porcelain statue and then shattered her to pieces, shocking them all.
"She's proved she's much too dangerous to be kept alive," he said simply and no one could really argue with that. Persephone and Hades' eyes met again.
"Do you…" she started to say.
"Remember both lives?" Hades asked, finishing her sentence.
"Yes…" he confessed.
"Me too," she said.
"Dad?" Emma called, as she parted from hugging her son and Neal. David smiled and pulled her into a tight hug.
"You saved us again, Emma," he said, as he cradled her head. A tear slipped down her cheek.
"I'm just sorry that you and Mom lost that other life. A lot of it was pretty good," she said.
"But I don't think we did…" David said, as he recalled both lives.
"I remember both lives," he added.
"Really?" Emma asked. He nodded.
"And that's not all that has changed, apparently," James said, as he stepped aside, revealing that both Ruth and Serafina had come back with them.
"You're...you're alive," David exclaimed, as they hugged their boys.
"That's not all that's different, because we have bigger problems," Regina interjected, as David noticed that Snow had been very quiet.
"Snow?" he asked, as she turned to him and his eyes widened. Her belly was swelled round with child and she was definitely much further along than she had been before Zelena's spell.
"How...how is this possible?" she asked, as David took her in his arms and Artemis put her hands to Snow's belly, just as she had a contraction.
"Okay...time to get to hospital. Your water could break any minute," Artemis replied.
"We messed with time...it must have had adverse consequences," Hades surmised, as he saw Cronus and many others staring out the window and he looked to see what they were looking at. And his eyes widened in disbelief.
"What the hell…" Eli uttered, as he saw what he was seeing.
"Daddy...Papa Hades...you're coming, right?" Snow asked.
"Of course sweet pea," Eli assured, as he came beside the wheelchair that Artemis had summoned for her.
"What were you looking at?" Persephone asked irritably.
"You have to see that for yourself, but there'll be time for that later. Let's get this grand baby born," Hades replied and then realized what he had just said. But Snow smiled gently at him and squeezed his hand.
"I remember both lives," she said, as she looked at Eli and Hades.
"I have three parents, just like David," she told them, just another contraction hit. It was clear they had a lot to discuss, but this family was clearly still retaining the bonds they had built during Zelena's spell. But her spell had also created perhaps even more complications and unseen side effects; that of which they were only beginning to discover. But first, their family was about to grow by one more member.
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tespuco · 5 years
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PotC Liveblog: Curse of the Black Pearl
CotBP is one of my ‘forever films’ for sure - every time I rewatch it I not only feel the same sense of wonder and delight as the first time but invariably discover new things to love and squee over as well. 
I would love to learn more about Elizabeth as a child: this lonely, solemn girl who feels something perverse in her thrill at pirate stories and gallows humor, yet who gravely takes on the duty of looking after young William Turner because she wants to be good, too. (@dollsome-does-tumblr‘s Elizabeth-centric, post-CotBP fic Shrouded Heart explores this ambivalence in her self-concept with heart-wrenching emotional realism)
Wow, Will was doomed from the start, wasn’t he? I would be too if I were a 12-year old piece of half-drowned human driftwood waking up to a miniature guardian angel who softly murmurs, “I’m watching over you” before I drift back into unconsciousness
Framing Elizabeth’s memory of seeing the Black Pearl and meeting Will as a dream, one that impels her to put on the medallion, suggests fate or some other supernatural influence at work - a nifty way for writers to sidestep accusations of Contrived Coincidences and call it Destiny instead!
Keira Knightley is so beautiful hELP
Awww, Will is so proud of his handiwork! It’s interesting because the film puts a fair amount of emphasis on it early on, his skill and pride in not just wielding swords but forging them - only to tell us later that he’s really a pirate by blood and at heart. I like it when fics like fried_flamingo & salr323′s At World’s End: Redux lean into Will’s identity as a blacksmith and extrapolate from it an affinity for land/earth/balance/creation as opposed to the sea’s wild potential for destruction. (He lost his father to the sea and to piracy; he never learned to love either.)
My god everyone’s layered in buttoned-up and corseted finery in the fucking TROPICS no wonder Elizabeth passed out (ngl despite the ‘Caribbean’ in the title and visiting the Disney ride in New Orleans Square, I remember stupidly assuming Port Royal was part of England, not Jamaica; at 9 yrs old my geography was shit and I had yet to learn what imperialism was ok)
“A ship with black sails that’s crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil that hell itself spat him back out.”  shiver me timbers now that’s how you tell a ghost story
“If he were telling the truth, he wouldn’t have told us” has the same antimonious energy as Winnie-the-Pooh going, “Well, it’s a good thing I noticed it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have seen it”
This is definitely tmi but in retrospect the rescue scene played a formative part in my (bi)sexual awakening: for a long time my go-to pubescent fantasies involved near-drownings followed by hypersexualized resuscitation attempts and frantic uncomfortable sex on wet rocks in damp subterranean caves
Omg I just realized Elizabeth’s scene with Jack on the docks mirrors the one she had on deck Will in the flashback: a (wo)man overboard recovered, rescuer hovering over a supine body and fingering the pirate medallion around his/her neck, love at first sight
“One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness.” “Though it seems enough to condemn him.” Basically “no good deed goes unpunished” but with style
16 years later and the swordfight between Jack and Will holds up as an iconic example of swashbuckling fight choreo. I also love how the exchange establishes the Jack/Will dynamic: the former as a kind of ironic mentor (“Excellent form. But how’s your footwork?”), the latter as an unwilling pupil who nevertheless mostly plays along
“I practice with them three hours a day.” “You need to find yourself a girl, mate.” Raunchy Shakespearean-grade comedy at its finest (along with  “This sweet, proliferous bouquet that is Tortuga…What do you think?” “It’ll linger.”)
“This shot is not meant for you.” I love the hints we get of Jack’s darker side: he keeps his bitterness close and his grudges closer; for 10 years he saved that bullet for one man, refusing to expend it in any number of life-threatening situations in the interim; he drawls, “Worry about your own fortunes, gentlemen. The deepest circle of Hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers,” like a witch uttering a curse. A dishonest man, methinks, would not feel the stab of betrayal so deeply.
The running joke of Will not getting recognized for his skills and earnest efforts is what makes Norrington’s parting words to him at the end so satisfying: “This is a beautiful sword. I would expect the man who made it to show the same care and devotion in every aspect of his life.” (NORRINGTON KNEW IT WAS HIM ALONG BUT WAS TOO JEALOUS TO EVER PRAISE HIM TO HIS FACE that petty little shit lmao)
I remember looking up the definition of ‘acquiesce’ after watching CotBP as a kid, so Barbossa had a direct hand in expanding my 9-year old vocabulary.
Competent, hyper-focused!Jack at the wheel with an unholy gleam in his eye as he gets drenched in a torrential downpour is my kind of Byronic hero
I prefer Jack Sparrow’s backstory to remain a loose collection of rumors and half-truths jumbled together even in his own memory, but I DO want to know how Jack and Gibbs met, how the former earned the latter’s (mostly) steadfast loyalty. I want to eavesdrop on all the inebriated conversational musings they’ve shared over a bottle of rum, whether topside on the decks of a ship not the Pearl or shouted above/muttered below the ruckus of a Tortuga tavern.
I’d also read/watch a prequel about the mutiny. “He plays things closer to the vest now. And a hard-learned lesson it was.” WHO HURT YOU JACK
Well obviously Barbossa did, but I still have so many questions! How did a younger, more trusting Jack earn the ire of his first mate and crew, to the point where they’d stage a mutiny? Then again, to hear Gibbs tell it, Barbossa simply appealed to Jack’s sense of fairness; perhaps in their unadulterated greed they saw Jack’s honest streak as a vulnerability to exploit? Or was it something in Jack’s manner of captaincy that fomented discontent? Idk, I can’t tell based on the way the crew jeers at “Gents, you all remember Captain Jack Sparrow?” whether their antipathy smacks more of derision or vitriol.
“Mr. Gibbs? …Jack? Jack Sparrow?” Elizabeth must be SO confused by these blasts from her distant and more recent past: who knows when Gibbs left Norrington’s employ, but the last time she saw Jack he had her in chains and at gunpoint, and now apparently he’s conspiring with Will??
I’ve always been kind of baffled by the cabin scene between Elizabeth and Will. What is she apologizing for? Taking the medallion and not telling him? Or for telling him and making him realize his father was a pirate?
Also her tearful, “Because I was afraid that you were a pirate. That would have been awful” is the biggest, bald-faced lie if I’ve ever heard one. She took an interest in him BECAUSE she thought he was a pirate (although I do think young Elizabeth had been afraid FOR him, after Gibbs’ pantomime of the hangman’s noose)
“daft like Jack” should be my Jack/Elizabeth/Will OT3 tag
Ah, back when PotC incorporated visual gags to spice up their action sequences instead of building the equivalent of a Rube-Goldberg machine around a single, unfunny gag. Compare: Gibbs’ canteen making its unlikely way from the Interceptor to the Pearl and back as an accompaniment to the battle and Jack’s breakout from his cell VS the overextended Tortuga sequence in DMC where Jack weaves in and out of a brawl to no apparent purpose except to try on different hats and then exit the tavern.
“Though it does seem a shame to lose something so fine, don’t it? …So I’ll be having that dress back before you go.” Barbossa is despicable and Geoffrey Rush delivers his lines with such RELISH
I will squee over the island scene & its deleted segments at length in a separate post so for now I’ll just say: Elizabeth is obviously a huge Jack Sparrow stan and she’s doing a piss-poor job of hiding it
Listen it’s easy to overlook Norrington’s sense of duty and decency in the face of the stick up his butt and his bouts of extreme pettiness. But the fact is that Jack’s attempt to manipulate and appeal to his ambition fails. Because the Commodore is no Barbossa - he’s a fine man who serves others, not only himself; who cares whether a woman���s acceptance of his proposal is less than sincere; who wouldn’t have risked his men ambushing the Pearl’s crew had he known about the curse (last two courtesy of the deleted scenes on the Dauntless).
Now that I’m paying closer attention I’m just blown away by the careful consideration in Jack’s plans. He’s playing both sides to further his own goal of enacting revenge at minimal risk to himself, but he looks after the unwitting parties he involves in the process, too: while the Royal Navy occupies the undead pirates from the safety of their long range cannons, Jack can intervene to save Will, use him to break the curse, and kill Barbossa. All the good guys win! (He couldn’t have foreseen the Trojan Horse or the en masse submarine attack; nor Norrington’s pettiness in defying Jack’s instructions to man cannons that would’ve blown the undead into smithereens.)
Exhibit B: “Now, to be quite honest with you, there’s still a slight risk for those aboard the Dauntless, which includes the future Mrs. Commodore.” Disregard his insouciant delivery here, and you get Jack telling the whole, unvarnished truth!!! “What do you have to lose?” he asks Norrington, who brushes him off: “Nothing I’d lament being rid of.” It’s JACK who reminds him that for all their precautions, the ambush might put Elizabeth in danger. Jack knows about the curse, and after being marooned on an island with her, he knows Elizabeth will do whatever’s necessary to save Will. So he finds a way to ensure not only that she won’t interfere, but that she’ll be kept safe from harm!! I’ll never be over it
And Murtogg’s “You think he wasn’t telling the truth?” line is such a great callback to their early sketch as Rosencrantz and Guildenstern on the docks of Port Royal. These dimwits happen to know Jack does tell the truth, expecting no one to believe him. His own exhortations on the subject notwithstanding, Jack’s real trickery lies in rarely telling the whole truth, letting people make their own assumptions, and giving them enough rope by which to hang themselves.
Governor Swann is such a darling, the ultimate doting father. It’s easy to assume he doesn’t get Elizabeth at all, but he’s no idiot. He rightly suspects she only agreed to marry Norrington to save Will, and while he’s not above nudging her in that direction (“I believe you made a very good decision today. Couldn’t be more proud of you.”), he’s also not about to let his only daughter bargain away her happiness for the sake of his OTP. (And his face of exasperated affection at Jack’s hanging, when he realizes she only pretended to faint as a diversion! Notice the lack of surprise in his expression: that’s the face of a father who is all too used to her Pulling This Kind of Shit)
Jack keeps popping up like a bad penny and both Norrington and Barbossa are so appalled every time lol
The sequence where Will breaks the curse and Jack shoots Barbossa and Elizabeth jerks like she’s the one who was shot is just - *chef’s kiss* the CHOREOGRAPHY! the CAMERAWORK! the EDITING! 
“I feel…cold.” *a single apple rolls out of Barbossa’s dead hands* Can you believe a summer blockbuster movie invented poetic justice tell your English professors
“If all I have achieved here is that the hangman will earn two pairs of boots instead of one, so be it.” Ugh Will is sooo not my type but he’s so DASHING and GOOD no wonder Elizabeth covets him. What a hero
“My place is between you and Jack.” Ohhh you know what I would love to track the main characters’ alignment arcs throughout the series. Here Will’s situating himself as the Chaotic Good between Jack’s Chaotic Neutral and Norrington’s Lawful Good. But I would argue he’s still pretty Lawful and, even under Jack’s tutelage, only resorts to Chaos in extremis; meanwhile Jack flits between Chaotic Good and Chaotic Neutral; Elizabeth’s arc is similar except it’s unidirectional; and without the Law at his back Norrington spirals into Neutral Evil. 
It’s the Sparrabeth shipper in me but the last line of the movie is Jack singing a song that Elizabeth taught him. (*Cutler Beckett voice* “We’ve had dealings in the past. And we’ve each left our mark on the other.”) For a fic about what Jack leaves her, may I redirect you to Shrouded Heart by dollsome, linked above - and this brain dump comes full circle!
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