#i wonder if jamie knew how much people love her and how much she’d be drawn in here! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gina103 · 3 months

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Flu Season!

It's been quite a while since I posted something. Since it's basically flu season now, here you go!

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It was a chilly morning in November when Ember woke up feeling like she’d been hit by a bus.

Her head felt hot, her body shivered uncontrollably, her muscles and bones ached in protest with every movement she made, it was simply impossible for her to get out of bed.

But she had to. Ember could not just stay in bed no matter how much she wanted to, she needed to get help or help herself. As a borrower who lived on her own, she did not have the luxury of helping hands.

As Ember attempted to roll out of her little bed, a reassuring thought struck her.

Jamie could help me.

That’s right, Jamie. She had almost forgotten about the human boy in the stress of her situation. She had almost forgotten about her new friends, Caleb and Jesus as well. Ember mentally struck herself in the head, how could she forget about the only people who made her feel cared for, who made her feel like she was a person, who made her feel loved? It was Jamie in particular whom she thought of the most, how could she not? He made her feel special in a way that she never felt before, not even with her late family.

With those warm thoughts in her feverish head, Ember rolled out of bed and began weakly making her way to the door of her home, trying her best not to stumble over in her dizziness. It was time to find Jamie.

Jamie had been having a boring day so far.

His morning classes went by uneventfully and he had already eaten a mediocre lunch in the dining hall before walking back to the dorm. He was excited for the evening, he never knew what he and his roommates would get into every night, it was exciting to think about what antics they would all get up to that night. Maybe they would have a movie night, or play video games, or board games, or go for a drive, the options were limitless. Of course, the number one person that was on his mind, more than his evening plans or boring classes, more than anything else, was Ember.

Jamie knew that he had feelings for her. He had known ever since Halloween night, when they were cloaked in complete darkness, when he held her delicate little body in his hands, when he felt her bury her face into his chest, and most of all, when she uttered those lovely words to him.

Please hold me like this more often…

Every time his mind got a moment to breathe, those words replayed in his head over and over again, and every time, it sent a small jolt of electricity through him. How could someone so small mess him up so badly? Jamie wondered that every day. It didn’t help that Ember was really starting to warm up to him. She was warming up to his roommates too, but with him, it was special. Ever since Halloween, she’d come up to Jamie while he was doing homework and actually ask him to hold her. Sometimes, she didn’t even have to ask, just one look and Jamie would scoop her up before she could even blink. Sometimes, she would even fall asleep in his hands, which Jamie thought was the cutest thing on planet Earth. A fond smile crept on his face at the memory of her peaceful expression as she snoozed in his hands, she reminded him of the little backyard squirrels that would live in his neighborhood, her hair was the same color as their fur. Another thing that put a smile on Jamie’s face was to realize that she trusted him enough to doze off around him. Knowing how wary she was about humans and how scared she was when they first met, made him feel proud to have earned that trust.

Jamie was sitting at his desk when he was shaken out of his daze by a peculiar noise. It sounded like tiny, shaky breathing. His heart dropped, he knew exactly who would be making such tiny sounds, but he knew that something was wrong. His mind was already racing with possibilities as he turned to look for the source of the noise.

Oh my God…

There was Ember, on the floor by the foot of his desk, attempting to climb to the top. Jamie’s stomach twisted as he took in her appearance. She was struggling hard. She was already pale, but now her face was a horrid mixture of gray and green, she was visibly sweaty, her body swayed dangerously as she looked up to meet his eyes.

“Oh, Jamie!” She said as if she had just now noticed him, her body exerting maximum effort to avoid keeling over and never getting up.

His hands lunged for her.

Before Ember even had time to think, Jamie was on his knees and the warmth of his hands surrounded her as she was scooped up and brought close to his concerned gaze. She watched him curiously, not saying anything as he touched a single finger to her forehead, his brows furrowing into a worried frown. Ember wasn’t exactly processing anything going on, all she wanted to do was look at him, to watch his facial muscles pull and contract to create that expression he wore, to watch his eyes pore over her, taking in every inch of her.

Ember knew that she wasn’t a good borrower anymore, she was a very poor one indeed. A good borrower would be scared to be in a human’s hands, under the intense weight of their gaze, in such a horrific state, so weak and vulnerable. That’s how Ember knew she truly trusted Jamie, she did not feel one ounce of fear or apprehension, and maybe it was her fever warping her vision, but were his eyes always that beautiful? They reminded her of freshly brewed coffee, gazing at her with such concern, such consideration, such kindness and sympathy.

Such love.

Borrower code be damned, who wouldn’t trust those eyes?

She watched his facial muscles around his mouth pull as he said something she didn’t really hear, she just felt so tired, and his hands were so warm.

“you’re so pale,” he said, sounding muffled by her own ears.

She felt him stand up, cupping her close to his chest. “Guys! Ember’s sick!” She heard him announce.

Her body had enough, the last thing Ember was able to process was Jamie’s hurried footsteps as he exited his room before her exhaustion took over and blanketed her world in black.

Ember knew she wasn’t in his hands anymore, the air around her was different. She could tell she was on a comfortable surface, there was something cool and damp sitting on her forehead too, what was going on?

“Shhh! Don’t wake her up!” A hushed voice whispered. It sounded like Jamie.

“I was just breathing!” another voice whispered fiercely, Caleb.

“Well breathe quieter!”

“I think she just moved,” Jesus chimed in, silencing them both.

Ember remained still, breathing in and out as if she was still in a deep slumber.

“I don’t think she moved,” Caleb uttered.

“Damn,” Jesus replied.

There was silence for a minute, Ember could feel all three pairs of eyes watching her. Keeping still, she heard movement, the surface she was under shifted a little, the sound of rustling fabric was heard. Then, she heard what sounded like multiple pairs of footsteps leaving the room. Once she heard a door close softly, and the sound of muffled voices beyond it, Ember finally opened her eyes.

As she took in her surroundings, she realized that she was laying on the top cushion of the sofa. Looking to her left, she could see Jamie’s bedroom door was closed, and heard voices saying unintelligible words. Every now and then, she caught words such as “flu” and “black plague” whatever that meant. She reached up to grasp whatever was on her forehead, studying it closely. It looked like a piece of a washcloth that had been soaked in cold water. Ember’s heart warmed when she realized it was a makeshift mini cold towel, they must have made it just for her. A fond smile crept onto her face at the thought, they really cared for her.

The door to her left opened with a loud commotion and all three boys rushed out.

“You’re seriously going to class right now?” Jamie asked incredulously.

“Um, yeah,” Caleb replied sassily, “I care about my education.”

“Don’t you care about your friends?”

“College is too expensive to be skipping class all the time!”

“But you skip class all the time!”

Caleb gave Jamie a long hard stare, as if to say touché, before walking briskly towards the door, and shutting it behind him. The two boys stared at each other in disbelief.

All the commotion made Ember’s head pound, reminding her that she still felt like a rotting corpse.

“Absolute flaker,” Jesus said, shaking his head disapprovingly, “not a good habit to be in.”

Jamie let out a disappointed sigh before turning towards Ember’s spot on the couch. His eyes lit up upon seeing her awake and sitting up, making Ember’s stomach feel weird. Was that the fever?

“Hey!” He said softly, making his way around the sofa to sit down, “how’re you feeling?”

“Horrible,” Ember replied, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do anything.”

Ember watched him sit down on the sofa where he could be more level with her, “Listen, you don’t have to worry about doing anything, all you worry about is getting better, ok?”

Ember nodded in resignation, she hated feeling like this, like she couldn’t do anything. Although she appreciated Jamie’s and the boys’ help massively, it killed her to be out of commission like this. It was bad enough when her ankle was hurt, now it was the second time in a year that she had to rely on a human for help. God, she was certainly not a good borrower.

“You ok?” Jamie asked, concerned at her faraway expression.

“Oh,” Ember said, snapping out of her daze, “Yes, I’m fine.”

Jamie gave her a look that said, “I don’t believe you at all”.

“Well, I sup - “Ember began.

“You guys want food?” Jesus suddenly asked.

Jamie turned around, annoyed at the interruption.

“I’m going to Panda Express, I have a coupon,” Jesus continued, “y’all want anything?”

“No thanks,” Jamie replied stiffly.

“Suit yourself,” Jesus gave the two of them a strange, knowing look, then opened the door and left.

Before Ember could process whatever that was about, the brown-eyed boy before her had already turned back to her and was waiting for her to continue. She felt the pressing weight of his attention and suddenly felt slightly hotter than before.

“Well, what I was going to say before…” She paused in hesitation, trying to gather her thoughts, “I’m just really annoyed that you have to take care of me again.”

Jamie raised his eyebrows slightly at her words and Ember immediately knew her mistake.

“N-not that I’m annoyed at you per say,” she said quickly, “It’s just that it m-must be annoying for you, because you had to take care of me when my ankle was hurt, and you know…”

She trailed off, he was just watching her, smiling. Why did he have to smile like that?

Suddenly, his hand moved closer to her. Ember watched in fascination as he took her hand in between his pointer finger and thumb, her hand utterly disappeared in between the massive digits. It was so strange, knowing that he could easily crush her hand like a grape right then, but he was using the utmost gentleness, almost caressing her hand. Ember knew that her face must have turned tomato red right at that moment. He stared straight into her eyes with conviction.

“I’m not annoyed at all,” Jamie said softly, his coffee-brown eyes emphasizing his sincerity, “I don’t think you could ever annoy me honestly.”

He leaned in closer, his eyes growing more serious.

“Don’t ever think of yourself as a burden to me, because it’s not true,” he continued firmly, “Me, Caleb, Jesus, we all want to take care of you, you’re our friend, we care about you.”

He paused in hesitation for a moment before quietly adding, “I care about you.”

Ember felt as though her heart had doubled in size. She remembered the times when she fell ill in her childhood. She remembered how her mother would cook warm potato soup for her, how her father would bring her a new handmade toy to cheer her up when she cried, how her brother wouldn’t stop making silly faces at her until she laughed. She had always missed the feeling of being cared for, the idea that someone would pick you up when you fell, take care of you when you’re sick, and love you even in your lowest moments. Never again did Ember believe she would have someone like that after the death of her family, until this very moment. Now she had Jamie, a boy who wanted to be that person for her, a human boy who cared for her. It wasn’t even just him, she had friends now, people who were willing to help her, care for her, love her. She stared up at him, tears filling her eyes and quickly spilling all over her cheeks, overwhelmed with gratitude for him.

“T-thank you so much, Jamie,” she said through her tears, “It m-means so much to me to hear you say that.”

He smiled at her, that damn smile, so warm and comforting. He really was amazing. Ember realized that Jamie had let go of her hand and was now using both of his massive hands to surround her in a cupping motion. It felt like she was being wrapped in a warm blanket, except better. He used his thumb to delicately wipe away her tears.

“You don’t have to worry anymore, Em, we got your back.” He said with the utmost sincerity.

And Ember finally found herself truly believing him.

#g/t #g/t community #g/t writing #sfw g/t #g/t fluff #the borrowers #oc: ember #oc: jamie #giant/tiny #oc: jesus #oc: caleb

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padfootastic · 1 year

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summary: from euphemia to james to sirius to harry to lily luna—traditions passed down through the generations of potters. love in the form of feeding your people, aloo paranthas as a labor of love etc etc

a labor of love

(also on ao3!)

August, 1970

“Jamie, breakfast’s ready!”

Loud steps thundered around the house as her ten year old raced down the stairs. Euphemia didn’t even bother to reprimand him at this point—she knew it was a pointless endeavour. Instead, she made sure the safety charms on the staircase were always updated.

“HiMumGoodMorningWhatsForBreakfast,” James’ words came out in one single whoosh of air and it was only because this was her child that she had extensive experience with that she could decode what he was saying.

She smiled gently while placing the plate in front of him. “Aloo parantha, honey.”

“Yesss,” James hissed in pleasure, a quick fist pumped in the air, before bending forward with his nose mere millimetres away from the paranthas.

Euphemia swapped the back of his head with a ‘tsk’. “James. How many times have I told you not to smell your food? You’re not a dog.”

“Ma, you don’t get it, okay. It smells so good,” he replied with a goofy, cross-eyed expression. “Seriously, whenever I go to heaven, I just know it’ll smell like fried potato and ghee and coriander. Life can’t get any better than this.”

Euphemia could only smile at the innocent look of wonder on her son’s face as he tore a piece off to stuff it in his mouth, hoping it always stayed there. If she had to keep making him aloo paranthas every morning to keep it there, she’d happily do so.

August, 1976

Sirius huddled closer into the wall, pulling his knees up to his chest and trying to count his breaths so he didn’t go so fast anymore.

It was some ungodly time of the day and he was sitting on the floor, pressed right up against the corner of the living room of Potter Manor, having a minor—really, not a big deal at all—panic attack about…well, everything.

It hadn’t been two days since he’d run away from Grimmauld Place and already the hopelessness was settling into his bones. He couldn’t stop replaying the words and curses and taunts and Reg’s face and—

“Sirius?” A drowsy voice cut through his spiral. He shouldn’t be surprised.

James always had a way of doing that.

“H-Hi, Jamie,” he replied, straightening up and wiping his eyes in a futile attempt to hide the tears he could feel pooling there. It wouldn’t work, he knew that, James always, always knew but he still had to try.

Sure enough, a pair of sock clad feet (adorned in little animated snitches) stopped right in front of him. His gaze traveled slowly, reluctantly, up to see James looking at him with a complicated look on his face. It was a mixture of sadness and frustration and resignation. Sirius hated that he put it there. James wasn’t made for expressions like that—he should always be happy, smiling, and this felt wrong, wrong, wrong.

Before he could do anything, though (not that there was much in his control), a hand entered his vision, palm up in invitation. Without even thinking twice about it—he would always choose James—he let himself be pulled up and straight into strong arms that were the only thing keeping him whole and grounded so far.

The hug ended in less time than it took for him to draw a full, shaky, breath. The abruptness of it left him reeling.

“Come on,” James said, tugging him in the direction of the kitchen. Sirius followed, confused, letting himself be manhandled into the kitchen stool and watched James take something out of the cooking cabinet.

“Boiled potatoes,” he explained, already moving on to the spice rack. “Mum always keeps some ready to go.”

With quick, practiced movements, James had them peeled and mashed. Another sealed container was retrieved—‘Dough. For the rotis’—and a flat top griddle was placed on the stove.

Sirius watched the whole thing in a daze, unable to identify a single thing but being comforted all the same. It felt almost like a ritual; the rhythmic movements of James’ hands as he rolled the dough into balls, and stuffed them with the potatoes. Watching him smooth it out into a round, flat shape.

“I didn’t know you were so proficient in the kitchen, Prongs,” Sirius finally said as the kitchen warmed up from his best mate’s ministrations, the smell of ghee-fried dough and spiced potatoes permeating the air.

“I’m not, really,” James shrugged. “But aloo paranthas are—they’re different, you know? Everyone should know how to make them.“

“I’ve never even tried them.”

“Well, then, everyone should have them at least once in their lives,” James said, firmly.

He placed a plate full of warm, steaming—aloo paranthas in front of Sirius and without even knowing what they really were, he could feel the rest of the tension seeping out of him. It’s a temporary relief, to be sure, but that it happened at all is enough to both awe and excite him.

He looked up at James with wide eyes, only to receive a knowing smile in return.

“Have a bite, Pads,” James pushed the plate closer. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

And he didn’t.

As he sat there and entirely demolished four of the wonderful paranthas—after days of not feeling the slightest pang of hunger—Sirius was helpless against the warmth that suffused his entire being, not just from the heat of the potatoes, but from the boy in front of him who’d decided to take a chance on him. Decided to welcome him not just in his arms but his house, his family.

August, 1995

“Sirius, why are we here?” Harry asked, confused. A minute ago, they were in the garden, talking about something or the other, and then suddenly his godfather had grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the kitchen.

“Because you, my dear Prongslet, have been severely, unforgivably wronged and it’s time to start rectifying that,” Sirius proclaimed, which really didn’t help.

“…huh?”

“You just told me you’ve never had anything but bland, boring British food. Ever.” Sirius stressed the last word, making a point Harry wasn’t quite sure of.

“Yes…because the Dursleys are raging racists and Hogwarts isn’t too creative with its culinary choices,” Harry slowly said, feeling eerily like he was defending himself for…not being able to have a diverse palette?

“Exactly. If James had a grave, he’d be rolling around in it.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Look, I was supposed to do this for you since the day you were old enough to eat solids. That I didn’t…well. Let’s not go there right now. But now that I do have the chance, it’s practically first on the list of my godfatherly duties—“

“What is, Sirius?” Harry asked, slightly exasperated. The man was making no sense.

“Making aloo paranthas, Harry! Come on, keep up, it’s bad enough you’ve gone this far without—any longer and I swear, James will find a way to come back to wring my neck and tie you to a chair just so he could force feed you,” Sirius finished, a slightly haunted look in his eyes like he was speaking from experience.

Harry blinked. What—?

“Now, luckily for us, the boiled potatoes are already done. You’ve got me to thank for that bit of foresight, of course, never go without since fifth year—“

“Why?”

“—because they’re so versatile—“

“Right, of course, how silly of me.”

“Yes. So, now you’ve gotta peel and mash it, and none of that ricer or fork nonsense, either, okay? You’ve gotta really get in there with your hands.” Sirius demonstrated by taking one slightly cold potato from the bowl, expertly peeling and crushing it between his fingers. He kept going until it was almost smooth, with just the smallest hint of texture. Once done, he turned expectantly towards Harry, eyebrow raised and ‘go on’ written all over his face.

Still slightly bemused, Harry stepped forward and gingerly took a potato of his own. Trying to peel it was—not as easy as he thought and everything else faded away as he concentrated on making sure no brown bits remained. It was a surprisingly soothing task. When he had his first potato peeled and mashed, he turned to Sirius proudly.

“There. What next?”

Sirius nodded in approval. “Now, we do the rest of it.”

And standing there shoulder to shoulder, the two of them managed to get through a veritable mountain of boiled potatoes, interspersed with Sirius’ stories of the Potters, a rare, greedy pleasure for Harry.

“Your grandmum, Euphemia, she’d make this for breakfast every so often. It was James’ favorite and she could never resist his great, big eyes—you get that from him, by the way. Not many people could, mind, but it was particularly effective when he wanted to scam some paranthas out of her.”

and “Your dad wasn’t the best in the kitchen, but this was one thing he was absolutely adamant he learn. Spent hours with Effie and Rani perfecting it, as well.”

Once the potatoes were done, Sirius directed him to the spice cabinet. “Now, this is the most important bit, Harry. Everyone makes their aloo paranthas in their own way. You can have different people following the same recipe and all of their final results would still taste different.”

Harry nodded in understanding. It was a bit like Aunt Petunia’s prized Roast Dinner—she always claimed no one else could make it the way she could, not even letting Harry close to the preparation of it.

“The first time I had this was in fifth year—similar to you, come to think of it—and I’ve experimented after, right? It was so good I had to. I went to many, many places in muggle London—roadside stalls to fine dining, you name it—and not once have I felt the same as when your dad made it with his eyes still half closed and the paranthas a little burnt on the edges and a bit undercooked in the middle. There’s no competition. So. It’s all in the spice, yes?”

Sirius handed him the container of carom seeds. “That being said, the most important bit?”

Harry leaned forward, eager, all hesitation forgotten in the face of a piece of his culture, his family being passed down to him like this.

“You’ve got to—“

August, 2017

“—measure with your heart, okay, Lils?”

Little Lily Luna Potter, only nine but adopting an air of maturity of someone much older, nodded solemnly, taking her dad’s word as gospel.

“This isn’t just food—this is you telling someone you love them. It’s a warm hug. Feeding someone, taking care of them, is no small job. So, forget all this measurements nonsense and just get in there,” Harry finished, nostalgia coating his words as he quoted his own godfather word for word.

“Get in there, Daddy!” Lily-Lu repeated empathetically.

“That’s right,” Harry chuckled, using one hand to ruffle the riotous mane of red curls piled on top of her head. “The next thing to go in is the powdered spices. Which ones are those, again?”

Lily-Lu squinted thoughtfully. “Coriander powder, red chili powder, tyoo-mer-ic, and cumin powder. That’s all of it, right, Daddy?”

Harry smiled at her serious countenance. “There’s just one more you’re missing.”

She frowned, biting her lip and mumbling under breath. “One more? Coriander…chili…cumin…and—and—garam masala! It’s garam masala, isn’t it?” The last few words were said in an excited shout, almost loud enough to startle him but he could only lean forward and place a quick kiss on her forehead in approval.

“Sure is, sweetheart. You’re a quick one, aren’t you?”

“I’m smart, Daddy, you and Mummy say so,” Lily-Lu returned, self-satisfaction radiating from every inch of her little frame

“That’s because you are; the smartest of us all, isn’t it?” Harry teased, while carefully mixing the spices with the potatoes. This one he’d do himself—Lily-Lu’s hands weren’t the steadiest yet.

“Oh!” She exclaimed suddenly, leaning forward. “The salt! You forgot the salt, Daddy.”

Harry blinked in surprise, looking down at his array of ingredients and realised he had.

“Huh. So I have, it seems. Would you like to do the honours, Lulu?” He extended the container towards her, smiling once again at how she was practically vibrating in excitement.

Harry was—not just glad but utterly ecstatic that he could do this, had the opportunity and ability for it. And he had no one but Sirius to thank for it.

Taking care of me even from the afterlife, aren’t you, Siri? he thinks with a silent offering of gratitude to the universe. I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for it, for everything.

“And now, the absolute final step?”

“The chopped coriander!” Lily-Lu chirped, already reaching forward to clasp a handful of coriander he’d prepared beforehand. She sprinkled it all over their mixture with a high, bright giggle and Harry could’ve spent an eternity in that moment, with his child beside him and the weight of his family behind him.

#euphemia potter #james potter #sirius black #harry potter #lily luna potter #this is perhaps the most personal thing i’ve ever written.#no other piece of work has more of me and my life in it #and i don’t it will either. i’m not a huge fan of ~reality yeah?#but i was eating aloo paranthas my aunt made me today. feeling exceptionally content.#and remembering the time my grandma made the same for me #and how the way my aunt and mom make it is the literal same taste bc rhe learnt from their mom (grandma)#and how i’m learning to make it the exact same way (about. 75% there i’d say)#and i’m feeding my friends and enjoying seeing the joy on their face #so aloo paranthas are like. nostalgic. and a labor of love. and a symbol of family and affection and generational habits passed down #so u have a whole fic around it bc projection is what i do best #i’m still v apathetic to identity headcanons for the same reasons as before #but this had to be done so that issue is put to the side for a while #also like. why is posting on tumblr so fkn difficult my god #why does it not accept formatted stuff 😭#i’m sure there’s a way to do it but i’m either too stupid or too lazy #but that and the weird spaces it adds between paragraphs will be the death of me some day #anyway. enjoy! i have lots of thoughts about it so feel free to come talk to me about it #massively restraint in myself in the tags & authors notes #this was just supposed to be a lil tumblr drabble but it. just. Grew?#so yah.#pen’s writing

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toxophilitis · 2 years

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No Virgin Schoolteacher conclusion

CHAPTER TEN

Warren seemed maddeningly slow as he got dressed and drove back to town. Jamie was a little pissed off with him. If he'd intended to save her seduction for his bedroom, why hadn't he taken her there hours earlier? Why had he wasted so much time? Oh, she knew his answer. He wanted everything to be just right, romantic and perfect. That's why he'd taken her to dinner, taken her dancing, and then necked with her as they watched the moonlit ocean. It was all very nice, Jamie agreed, very sweet.

Now she just wanted to be fucked.

Warren had a nice apartment that overlooked the town, and it was furnished with thick shag carpets, overstuffed furniture, and fake fur rugs and pillows. The lights were low, and he put some soft sexy music on the stereo. His apartment was built for seductions.

While he made them drinks, Jamie wondered how many women he'd fucked in this apartment. Dozens, probably. Yet she didn't feel jealous. She just felt glad to be in the hands of a master. When she finally lost her cherry, she wanted no fuck-ups.

Warren handed her a martini, and she took an impatient gulp.

"You sure you want to go through with this?" he asked.

Jamie almost choked on her drink.

"Are you kidding?" she exclaimed. "I've practically been begging you, Warren. I'm sick of being a virgin. I don't want to die without knowing what it's like to fuck."

"No danger of that," he leered.

He tossed off his drink and started undressing her. Jamie made short work of her drink, too, and fumbled with the buttons of his suit. When they were naked, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her down a short hall to his bedroom.

Jamie's eyes widened when she saw that room. If the living room was designed for seductions, this room was engineered for orgies. There was fur all over the place, fur chairs and pillows and rugs, even the bedspread of the king-size bed. But what really caught her attention was the mirrors.

All the walls and the whole ceiling were covered with mirrors. People making love in that room could see themselves from every angle. Suddenly Jamie felt like she was on camera. Warren carried her over to the bed and laid her down, then slid on beside her. "What do you think of my playroom?" he grinned.

"Pretty kinky for a schoolteacher," Jamie giggled.

"Well, when you've been teaching math and physics all day, you need a change of pace at home," he laughed.

It was a change of pace, all right. It looked like something from the Playboy mansion. Jamie felt a little self-conscious as she studied their reflection in all those mirrors. But Warren took her mind off that. He slid a hand between her thighs and expertly stimulated her pussy.

"Mmmmmm, yesssss!" she sighed, creaming all over his hand.

"I believe you're ready," he leered.

"Warren, I've been ready for days!" she moaned.

He rolled on top of her and sank down between her thighs. This was it, really it. Jamie eagerly parted her legs even wider and bent her knees, opening herself to his cock. He pressed the hard head against her tiny untried cunt mouth and started pushing into her.

"Unnnnnhhhhh!" she gasped.

In spite of all her horny fantasies about being fucked, she wasn't prepared for the real thing. She just hadn't expected his cock to feel so damned huge. It was stretching her tender pussy lips till she thought they'd burst. He was going into her very slowly and carefully, but she was still panicked.

She was sure her tiny cunt couldn't take a cock that size. She'd be split in half. Already she felt crammed breathless, and he wasn't even two inches inside. But she wasn't going to chicken out, not now. She'd asked for this and, by God, she was going through with it.

"Unnnnhhhh, unnnnhhhh!" she moaned.

Warren wasn't saying anything, just panting hard as he slowly but steadily eased his gigantic rock-hard cock into her exquisitely tight cunt. His big body was shaking with excitement. At last he pushed up against her womb, impaling her completely.

"You got it all now, honey!" he groaned. "Christ, you're tight! You really were a virgin!"

He'd said were, not are. It had finally happened. The man-shy young spinster had actually lost her cherry. That gave Jamie some satisfaction, even as she writhed in fright and pain around his thick prick. And she'd gotten this far without being split in half.

But she was crammed so full, she felt like the slightest movement would burst her cunt. She could feel Warren's fat boner throbbing against every inch of her tight pussy hole. The moment he started moving, she was sure it would hurt like hell. She gritted her teeth and vowed to go through with it in spite of her terror.

But Warren played it very cool, very smart. He just didn't move. He lay on top of her, nuzzling her ear and kissing her neck, his cock fully lodged in her newly deflowered twat, letting her get used to the sensation. He didn't even try to fuck her.

"You know what?" he whispered. "The first time I met you, I wanted into your pants. I like a challenge. I could tell you hated men, and that made me want you all the more."

"But you never made a move on me," Jamie said.

"I was waiting," he chuckled. "I was waiting for the right time, and it finally came."

It was another example of his patience. The guy was incredibly patient, but it always paid off. Like right now. As Jamie got used to feeling her cunt crammed with thick throbbing cock, she relaxed, and then she began to crave some movement. She started creaming again, soaking his cock with the molten juice.

"Fuck me a little, Warren!" she whimpered. He moved his big prick gently and slowly in her hot little pussy, just a few strokes, and she found that she liked it. The fit was still so tight that it scared her, but her creaming helped, making his movements slick and easy. When he stopped, she gave a little gurgle of excitement and soaked his prick again.

"More, please!" she panted.

Warren slid his hands under her hot little ass and drew her up tight against him. He started fucking her very slowly and sensuously, moving deep, then drawing back for another tantalizing thrust. His stiff cock rubbed Jamie's swollen clit, giving her a hot buzz of pleasure.

"Ooooooh, honey, I like that!" she gurgled. Warren went on fucking her in that same slow deep rhythm, and she warmed to it very fast. She loved feeling his stiff shaft grinding against her greedy clit, and soon she loved having her cunt crammed with his big hard boner. She creamed hard each time he hit her womb.

"Unnnnnhhh, Warren, this may be a little premature, but I think I'm gonna love to fuck!" she moaned.

"It's definitely premature!" he teased. "We won't know for sure till I've fucked you about an hour."

"Okay, we better find out," Jamie teased back. "I'll let you know in an hour or so."

Very gradually he fucked her faster, bringing her along expertly. Jamie kept pace with him, jerking her hips to his rhythm and hungrily rubbing her clit against his sawing cock. She wasn't scared now. She'd discovered that her hungry little twat could expand like elastic to take even the largest cock -- when she was horny enough.

She was horny enough now. She was hooked on this man. She wanted to fuck him and suck him for the rest of her life. She gurgled and creamed and humped at him till her lust reached fever pitch. She was drenching his slow-plowing cock with sizzling cream.

"Harder now, honey!" she moaned.

"Okay, but tell me if it hurts!" Warren panted.

He tightened his grip on her churning ass and fucked into her at a normal pace, the way all those couples had fucked when she spied on them. Jamie was up for it. Her hips pumped to his hot rhythm, and she felt sharp stabs of pleasure each time he sank the rock-hard cock into her.

"Ooooooh, shit, yesssss!" she wailed.

"You're coming along great, baby!" Warren panted. "You were born for this!"

Jamie wondered how her mother would react to that remark. Mom had done everything in her power to make Jamie hate men and sex, but it hadn't worked. That was because Warren was right. Deep down, Jamie was an exceptionally hot-blooded woman, with more than normal needs, and her mother hadn't been able to train those instincts out of her.

She was meant to fuck. She wasn't about to be a lonely sexless old maid. Mom had only postponed the moment of truth. Jamie was feeling it now, her real nature. She worked her hips faster and faster, keeping time with Warren's big pounding cock, loving every second of it.

"Ohhhhhh, God, honey, you're fucking me so good!" she moaned. "Keep doing it, make me come!"

"You bet I will," Warren chuckled.

He fucked into her even faster, till the big bed began to creak. Their bodies slapped together loudly, and Jamie's pretty face twisted into a lusty grimace. She clawed his broad shoulders and sobbed with ecstasy as his jackhammering cock took her helplessly towards orgasm.

"Oooooh, shit, fuck, ooooo!" she babbled.

She didn't even recognize herself. But that was her, Miss Jamie Johnson, moaning dirty words and humping like a slut. That was her, grinding her clit against a man's hard-pounding prick, creaming all over his cock. It was the real Jamie, unleashed at last. She wailed hoarsely as her body exploded with pleasure.

"Unnnnnhhhhh, God, you did it, I'm cominggggg!" she howled. "Unnnnhhhh, shit, whaaahhhhhhh!"

She heard Warren groan lustily as her tiny cunt went into powerful spasms around his cock, squeezing it almost flat. She drenched his cock again and again with sizzling floods of come-cream. Her delicious climax went on and on, the longest and strongest she'd ever had.

"Oooooh, fuck, whaaahhhhh!" she sobbed. She could come pretty good just from playing with herself, and she could come even better when Warren went down on her, but this was the best come of all. Jamie lost track of time as the delicious spasms ripped through her body. At last she went limp and gasping.

Warren raised himself off her, drawing his dripping cock from her smoking pussy. Jamie was still recovering from her incredible climax as he flipped her over into the doggy position. But as he pushed into her again, her lust boiled back in full force.

"God, yes, fuck me again!" she wailed.

Warren got right down to business this time. He didn't need to warm her up and get her used to the sensation. She was hot to go, and her hips jerked to his hard fast rhythm. She wailed with delight as he hammered his huge hard prick into her greedy little cunt. She dug her nails into the bedspread to brace herself.

"Unnnnnhhhhh, fuck it to meeeeee!" she howled.

It was hard to believe she'd lost her cherry just a few minutes ago. Warren had seduced her so well that she was fucking like a slut, all her fears and inhibitions gone. Molten cream over flowed her crammed cunt and gushed down her inner thighs.

Then Warren made things even better. While he pounded his cock into her like a pile driver, he reached around her and began rubbing her clit with his stiff middle finger. That doubled her pleasure. Hot stabs of sensation came from her clit and her cunt.

"Ooooooh, baby, I'm gonna come again!" she squealed.

She couldn't believe how fast he got her there. It seemed like she'd hardly finished her first orgasm, and now another one was building in her pussy, making her shake with excitement. Warren raked his finger over her clit and shoved his cock to her womb, and she was in orbit.

"Uhhhh, God, whaaahhhh!" she screamed.

Her tiny cunt went into hard spasm around Warren's cock, and he groaned hoarsely as he'd done before. But he didn't come along with her. He just snorted lustily and fucked her hard through her climax. No wonder he was so popular with the ladies. He fucked like a machine.

Jamie pitched forward off the skewer of his cock as she finished coming, but he didn't let her rest. He grabbed her and rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She found herself straddling him and sliding down his iron-hard prick, taking the throbbing thick shaft to her womb.

"Ooooooh, Warren!" she wailed. "You're gonna fuck me crazy!"

"That's my plan," he admitted with a leer.

"But honey!" Jamie panted. "It isn't fair! I'll be so horny for you, and you'll be dating other women!"

"No, I won't," he said. "Those days are over. All I wanted was a virgin for a wife, and I finally found one. How about it, Jamie? Will you marry me?"

"Unnnhhhh, God, yessss!" she moaned.

She had to marry him. She couldn't get along without his loving. She was hooked on him for good. Now she rode his pistoning cock and wailed with pleasure as he fucked into her faster and faster. She was rocketing toward yet another body-blasting climax.

Warren's handsome face was twisted into a lusty snarl, and he was groaning as he fucked into her with all his speed and force. They started coming at almost the same second, his jism searing into her womb and filling it, her seething cunt sucking at his meat.

"Ohhhhhh, God, ohhhhhh, whaaahhhhhh!" Jamie sobbed.

"Awwwww, Christ, aaaagggghhhh!" Warren roared.

As she enjoyed her very first load of male come, Jamie thought of all the time she'd wasted, all the fun she'd missed, because of her man-hating, sex-fearing ways. Yet had the time really been wasted? Her waiting had paid off in the long run.

Warren had wanted a virgin bride, and he'd gotten one -- the horniest virgin in the world.

THE END

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jess-moloney · 6 months

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Why is no one talking about this? To me this is the creepiest fact about her or should i say their relationship. Is he even aware this photo exist? It lowkey makes him look bad that his current girlfriend was sitting right behind him five years before they started dating. Especially because after Matilda there was still Ruby. jess-moloney.tumblr. com/post/732918321170759680/dont-know-if-you-can-see-her-sitting-behind

I don’t know why people don’t find it more creepy. People dismiss it as “okay” because she was “in the same circles” and then say that she and Jamie were “long time friends” but that can’t possibly be true. If Jamie knew her all that time and was that close to her I think she’d have gotten at least one photo with him at one of these events. She managed to get photos with other celebrities (though I’m 99% sure that’s only because she worked for Donna Management who was representing them). Notice how after she went to her own management company the celebrity photos with her dropped significantly.

If you go to Getty Images and search for her, these photos come up from between 2016-2017 when she worked for Donna Management. The next photos of her are walking the runway for Dolce and Gabana (who knows what she did to get that gig) and then the next after that is one event where she was with Jamie. The only photos you will find of her with celebs was with Donna Management and I’m positive with how much she loved to pose with famous people if she had known Jamie that well then she’d have posed with him too. Someone would have heard of her before she was dating him. He’d have made a post about her himself. It’s very creepy that she’s right there behind him and his girlfriend and I don’t think it’s a coincidence. I think she was watching and waiting until she had the right moment to get into his life.

I wonder if there’s any more images of these parties with Jamie where she can be seen in the background. The fact that just one exists is bad enough but who knows at this point how long she’s been shadowing him.

#jess moloney #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #mail

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daydreamgoddess14 · 11 months

Text

My bad habits lead to you pt. 1

MASTERLIST

Sequel to We lie awake in love and fear

From a prompt by @lilacmermaid25:

5 times Ted returns from Kansas for a wedding, one time he returns 'just because'.

Chapter 1

Beard and Jane - November 2023

A sunset wedding at Stonehenge. Rebecca had been to some beautiful weddings - some tiny and intimate, some grand and obscene (including her own to Rupert), but she could honestly say that she’d not been to one in such a wonderful setting. Though it was November, they were lucky - it had been one of those crisp, bright, cold days where you could almost forget it was winter and barely 8 degrees outside. It hadn’t been planned. Beard and Jane had discovered their pregnancy during the summer and calculated the dates back to the night of the gas leak - or perhaps any point during that week really, there was a lot of action that week after all. They’d spent a couple of months debating back and forth on the idea of marriage before deciding that to protect Beard’s UK visa status and parental rights, it was better to have a bit of paper than nothing at all. They’d pulled the plans together in the space of about a month - with a little of Rebecca’s considerable influence and that of a top flight premier league team. She and Keeley got ready in Rebecca’s suite at the nearby hotel they’d dance the night away in later on. Keeley’s room had been taken over by Roy, Jamie, and whoever else had chosen to hang out with them. The two women could hear the music from the next corridor.

“Roy asked if I’d ever get married.” Keeley said suddenly from the bathroom. Rebecca dropped her mascara wand on the white linen bed sheets.

“Shite. He asked what?! What did you say?”

“I asked if he meant to him or just… generally.” The loo flushed and Keeley reappeared. “I said maybe generally, but if he meant to him then we’d still have a lot to sort out.” Rebecca still sat open mouthed in shock. “Shut your gob before I stick my hand in it. You look like a fish.”

“Sorry, I just… I didn’t expect Roy to be so…”

“Open?”

“Stupid! Surely he knows that you’re both not in that place right now? And what about Jamie?”

“We talked about Jamie. We talked to Jamie. One day, Jamie is going to go off and find someone and eventually want to settle down. Until then, we want him to stay with us for as long as that’s what he wants too.”

“In whatever situation you’re currently in?”

“Yep.” Keeley popped the P.

“Is it working? Are you all happy?”

“So far so good. I know it’s a bit unconventional, but it really does work.” Rebecca smiled warmly.

“I don’t give a shit how unconventional it is, as long as you’re all ok with it. You’re consenting grown up people, you should do what you want. I only want you all to be happy.” Keeley met her eyes in the mirror and smiled back.

“Thanks babe. What about you, how’s it going with Matt?” Matthijs had been kicked out to Roy and Keeley’s room, though his was only a flying visit - quite literally he was flying out of Bristol airport shortly after the wedding ceremony.

“It’s going well. The traveling takes its toll a little, it’s not like he spends a few weeks in one place and then is away for a few weeks - sometimes I think that would be easier.”

“Heard from Ted recently?”

“Yes, we spoke a few days ago. He should be here soon.”

“And how are you expecting that reunion to go?” Keeley asked in a singsong voice.

“Keeley, we spent one night together. We knew it was only one night, it was only ever going to be one night.”

“But you haven't spoken that much since he left?”

“He’s only been gone 6 months. We speak often enough!” Keeley hummed.

“Well when he sees your dress, he’ll be on the floor and Matt will have to step over him to get to you. Which won’t be awkward at all. God I’m so fucking glad I have first class tickets to that shit.”

“Nothing is going to happen.”

“Matt doesn’t know that you and Ted had one night of wild passion though.”

“One night and one morning, actually. No, he doesn’t. And he doesn’t need to know. He knows that Ted and I are close friends and he accepts that Ted is and will always be, a huge part of my life.”

“But he doesn’t know about the sex.”

“Correct.”

“The mind blowing, life altering, never going to orgasm like it again ever for the rest of your life sex?”

“Thanks for reminding me. That’s absolutely the most helpful thing you could do, Keeley.”

“Well, I’m not picking fault - he’s a nice bloke, but has Matt ever made you feel the way Ted did?”

“No. Not that the sex is bad, it’s not. It’s very good.”

“It’s just not life altering. Got it, thanks for clearing that up.” Rebecca glared in the mirror.

“It doesn’t have to be life altering.”

“I just remember a certain, very close and very supportive friend of yours telling you that you deserved more. That’s all. And he may not always come with the right answers, but Roy was dead right on that one, Rebecca. You know he was.” Rebecca couldn’t disagree with that. She finished off her makeup and took her dress into the bathroom. It was going to be fine. Ted knew about Matthijs and Matthijs knew about Ted. They would meet, they would shake hands and it would be fine. There was not going to be some silly, unnecessary fight to win her over. She left the bathroom with her dress unzipped to ask Keeley for help when she noticed the tiny blonde had disappeared. She could hear voices and checked the time - it was probably Roy and Matthijs trying to hurry them along for the ceremony. She stepped into the second room of the suite to find Ted hugging Keeley.

“Ted!” She beamed, rushing over to greet him. Keeley moved away and Rebecca stepped into Ted’s embrace. Her head found the spot on his shoulder where she could breath him in and his arms wrapped around her back.

“Hey Becca. Think you’re a little underdressed.” He mumbled into her ear before kissing her cheek. She could feel his large, warm hands directly on her back.

“I’ll get that, thanks Ted.” Keeley said with a knowing grin. The zip slid up and Rebecca adjusted the dress.

“You look beautiful.” He smiled, next to her, Keeley cleared her throat. “You too, Keeley. As always.”

“Charmer. I’ll go and get Roy and Matt and we’ll go to the bar before we head out. It’s cold out there, we’ll need a stiff drink to keep us warm!” Keeley left, leaving the suite door open. Rebecca reached for her shoes, Ted offered his hand so she could step up into them.

“How was your flight? How’s Henry?”

“He’s really good, thanks. The flight was fine”

“And Kansas?”

“It’s still there.” She smiled softly at his reply, cupping his cheek in her hand.

“Oklahoma?”

“Can we Oklahoma later?” He asked.

“Of course, darling.” He held up her thick woolen coat so she could put it on. She took the opportunity for one more hug before they left for the bar. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too, sweetheart.”

“Come on, let me introduce you to Matthijs.”

The bar was beginning to fill up - everyone had the same idea of warming up with alcohol before the ceremony. Trent was pouring brandy into a hip flask while members of the team passed glasses of whiskey down the line. They all stopped for Ted. Various shouts of "Coach!" or "Ted!" rung out and everyone crowded him to shake his hand, clap him on the shoulder, or, in Dani’s case, cry into his arms. Rebecca went to the bar for the usual triple Jack Daniels while she waited for them to settle down. She took it with her to where Keeley stood with Roy and Matthijs.

"He's a popular man." Matthijs said, gesturing with his glass.

"Always has been." Keeley smiled, "It's good to see them all together again."

"They've really missed him. Is Dani still crying?" Rebecca leaned over to look around.

"Dani's been crying all week, loves a wedding." Roy grumbled.

"It's sweet, leave him alone." Keeley elbowed him in the ribs. Eventually, Ted was able to make his way over. He greeted Roy first with a handshake, then with a huge hug.

"Good to see you Roy Kent. Where's our Beardo?"

"Just trimming his beardo. I've sent Will to hurry him up. Nate and Jade are on their way down from their room,"

"Leslie and Julie are just out putting some things in their car." Keeley interrupted.

"And I think that's everyone organised." Roy finished.

"Ooh, look at you So Solid Crew!"

"Ted, you know who the So Solid Crew are?" Keeley looked incredulous.

"I do not, no. They came on the radio one time when I was back in Richmond." Rebecca turned to Ted and gestured towards Matthijs,

"Ted, I'd like you to meet Matthijs. We first met in Amsterdam. Matt, this is one of my very closest friends, Ted."

"Ted, it's nice to meet you." Matthijs and Ted shook hands firmly. Keeley watched wide eyed as the knuckles of both men whitened.

"You too, Matthijs. Heard a lot about you." Ted replied with a tight smile.

"Great, great, love an intro!" Keeley jumped in, grabbing Ted's drink from Rebecca and handing it to him.

"Whistle! Whistle! Drink up you lot, time to get on the bus down to the ceremony. 10 minutes!"

"I love it when you get all Coach on them, babe." Keeley winked. Jamie came over with her coat over his arm. He held it out for her. "Thanks, Jamie! Are they all ready to go?"

"Nearly, yeah. Hiya Ted." He stepped into the centre of the group to shake Ted's hand, but the elder man grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a Lasso hug.

"Jamie Tartt, how you doin'?! Walk with me, huh? I want to tell you about Henry’s football team." Ted thanked Rebecca for the drink and moved away with Jamie. There were two buses organised to take the team, staff and various plus ones to the ceremony, along with Beard and Jane. At Stonehenge, the sun was starting to set, Ted was able to get Beard alone for a short time while everyone else stood around in small groups. It was a lovely ceremony, short but sweet. As the sun disappeared over the horizon, the cold set in and people started to shiver and pass Trent’s hip flask around until the contents were exhausted. They made their way back to the buses to go back to the hotel to warm up and party. As the groups got off and made their way inside, Matthijs pulled Rebecca to one side.

"I have to go. I'll see you in a few days?" She nodded,

"Yes, have a safe trip." He leaned in to kiss her but she locked eyes with Ted over his shoulder, Ted was glaring at them. She turned her face just slightly so that Matthijs kissed her cheek instead. He frowned a little, but didn't call her out on it. As he left, he raised his hand in a brief wave to Ted who didn't wave back. Rebecca stayed outside for a moment, to watch him leave, Ted made his way across the front steps of the hotel to join her. “I do believe it’s your round Coach Lasso.” She said pointedly, turning for the entrance. “I need a drink to warm me up.”

“Is he nice to you?”

“He is, yes. Far nicer than I’ve been to him to be honest. I’ve not been the easiest person to live with in the last 6 months. Anyone inside that hotel will attest to that.”

“And are you happy?”

“I’m not unhappy. Sometimes that’s good enough for the time being. And you?” He hummed softly in agreement.

“Think you’re probably right. Sometimes you do the right thing just to get to the other side. Does that constitute us both Oklahoma’d?”

“I think so for tonight. Don’t want to bring the place down do we?” She smiled sadly.

He followed her up the grand steps, his hand at the small of her back first remembering the softness of her skin from their earlier hug and then remembering the warmth under his palm 6 months ago as she ground her body against his. The second memory caused his hand to tense against her, gripping the fabric of her dress. If she noticed, she didn’t say a word.

As anticipated, the party was in full swing. The Richmond Team loved any excuse to let their hair down and have fun together. In Amsterdam, they could have gone their separate ways and done what they’d all wanted, instead they tried to work it out together under Isaac’s leadership and favoured spending time together doing nothing rather than doing something alone or in smaller groups. No one was planning on a pillow fight this evening though, to Keeley’s disappointment. They danced and drank and sang long into the night, Rebecca finally collapsed into a sofa and kicked off her high heeled boots. Ted dropped down next to her, slumping into the seat. The combination of a lot of whiskey and jet lag was beginning to hit him hard. She reached over and used a hand to brush his hair back and out of his eyes, not quite realising what she was doing until her hand was actually in his hair. She drew it back quickly,

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. It was just a, y’know,”

“Subconscious action.”

“Yeah. I haven’t seen you much? No dance for me?”

“I’ve been with the fellas. Wasn’t really sure a dance was a good idea given our history.”

“We’re still friends, Ted?”

“Oh I know we are.” His voice dropped, “I’m just not usually in the habit of fucking my friends, Rebecca.”

“Is this because of Matt? I am allowed to date. Sleeping with you doesn’t mean that I don’t get a life of my own, surely you date?”

“Of course you are. I just, I wasn’t expecting him to be here.” He ignored her last question. They sat in silence for a short time, watching Jamie and Will leading an impromptu Macarena to a song which was most definitely not the Macarena.

“He’s not here now.” She said, barely above a whisper.

“No he’s not.” He slid his hand across the seat of the sofa to rest next to hers and drew random patterns on her palm with his fingertip. “I’m glad he’s not.”

“Why? Jealous?” She teased.

“I am, yeah. Very.” He caught her surprised look. “Why is that a surprise?”

“I didn’t think you’d be like that.” She replied honestly.

“Rebecca, for as long as I’ve known you, the thought of another man touching you has driven me near insane. The thought of Rupert treating you so badly when he should have been worshiping you made me crazy. And now that I know what you sound like? What you taste like? How you feel underneath me? Well shit Rebecca, I’m sorry but I don’t want anyone else to know those things about you.” He felt her breathing change beside him, saw the flush on her chest. She didn’t say anything, unsure of what to say. Eventually, Roy came over and asked if she wanted to dance. She didn’t bother putting her boots back on, warning him to stay away from her toes.

“So why does Ted look like he’s chewing a wasp?”

“It’s November Roy, there are no wasps.”

“You know what I mean, Blondie. You upsetting him again?”

“Why do I always get the blame? The only thing I’ve apparently done wrong is bring my boyfriend to a wedding.”

“So uhh, which boyf-”

“Fuck off, Kent. You know I mean Matt.”

“Sorry, sorry. I know. He’s jealous then.”

“He has no reason to be jealous. I’m not, I have never been, in a relationship with Ted. My feelings for him are entirely different and separate to the way I feel about Matt.”

“Ted thinks he’s losing that battle then.”

“There is no fucking battle, Roy.”

“Do you or do you not care more about Ted? If they were about to be eaten by a shark, which one would you save? Who would get your kidney? Who would you share your last chocolate with? Who’s seen you at your lowest point?” Rebecca glared at him. “I know the answer is Ted. You know the answer is Ted. Ted thinks that the answer to at least 4 of those questions is Matt. Who is a lovely bloke by the way - I’m not shitting on Matt, he’s just had a hard act to follow. It’s like auditioning for something after Chris fucking Rock has just been and impressed everyone.”

“Wish I’d never said yes to a dance now.” She grumbled. “It’s late. I’ve had a lot to drink. I’m going to bed.” Roy pulled her into his arms properly and kissed her cheek.

“Just looking after you, boss.”

“Thank you, Roy.” She stopped on her way across the dancefloor to wave to and hug different groups of people goodnight, letting Keeley wrap her tiny arms around her, and accepting kisses from her very drunk and boisterous footballers. She stopped off to say goodnight to Beard and Jane, Leslie and Julie and Trent, then she went back to where Ted sat on the sofa. Her spot was now taken up by Nate with Jade on his lap. “I’m going to call it a night. See you all later.” She squeezed Nate’s shoulder and smiled warmly at Jade. “Nathan, could you remind the bar to close off the bar tab on my suite once everyone is finished, please? They have the details already.”

“Will do, thank you.”

“You’re in the habit of these small acts of kindness, boss.” Ted smiled.

“I learned from the best. Walk me back to my room, Ted? Just in case I don’t see you tomorrow.”

“Sure thing.” He took her boots from her hand and let her lead him from the room.

They walked slowly down the winding corridors to the rooms and suites of the hotel.

“It wasn’t my intention to make you jealous, Ted. I didn’t think it would be a big deal. You’re living in Kansas, this is the first time you’ve been back. We knew we only had one night, I was never going to put my life on hold, I made my feelings clear and I was never going to try and strongarm you into changing your mind. Not when it came to Henry.”

“I appreciate that. Though I would pay to see you strongarm someone.”

“Next time you visit, come to the club. Roy bears the brunt regularly.” She laughed. When they reached her door, she hesitated. “Would you like to come in?”

“Thought we only had one night? Thought you were happy with M-”

“Don’t.” She whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. “Please don’t. I don’t want to think about that right now.” He nodded, kissing her fingertip. She turned the key in the lock and pulled him with her into the room. He crowded her immediately, hands in her hair, trailing down to her waist and hips, pulling at her dress. She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely. He unzipped her dress and let it puddle at her feet. He nudged her through the room to the bed. She was overwhelmed by the memories of 6 months previously, her body instantly responding to his large hands and the tickle of his mustache. He deepened the kiss, earning a low moan as Rebecca tried to control her hands long enough to try and remove his shirt. He tipped them onto the bed, the length of his body pressing against her. He pressed his palm against her, grinding it against her clit through her underwear. “Fuck, Ted I missed you.” She felt him laugh against her neck.

“Oh yeah? Sure you missed me or is it something else you missed?”

“Everything, all of you. Please, Ted.”

“No one fucks you like I do.” He pulled back to look her in the eye, his hand not stopping. She gripped his biceps,

“God, don’t stop.”

“No one fucks you like I do.” He repeated, she nodded,

“No one fucks me like you do, Ted.” She gasped With a final, firm press of his palm against her, she threw her head back, coming with a guttural groan. “No one, Ted. No one. Only you.” He removed his hand and she whined with the loss of contact. He slipped her underwear down her legs, then he finished taking off his shirt and worked his way out of his suit trousers. She reached out to touch him but he moved away.

“Not this time, baby. Turn over.” She did as she was told and moved onto her knees. He gripped her hips harshly, she knew there would be little bruises. “Yes?” He leaned his body over her to whisper in her ear. She nodded. “Words honey, I wanna hear you say it.”

“Yes, Ted, god yes.” He pushed into her quickly. She grabbed at the bedsheets under her hands and called out in surprise. He pounded into her, pressing her lower back down and pulling her hips up to meet his. He reached out to unclip her bra and she raised up to her knees so she could remove it. He wrapped an arm around her to cup her breasts and hold her against him as she met him thrust for thrust. He bit her earlobe,

“Touch yourself sweetheart.” He demanded. She moved a hand down to her clit and touched herself as he’d asked. “You gonna come again?” He asked.

“Yes, yesss.” She sighed, desperate for the release she was so close to. He pinched her nipple hard and the perfect combination of pleasure and pain had her moaning and grinding down into him as she came. He held her tightly, kissing her neck and jaw as he spilled into her a second later, her name growled low into her ear. She let her legs relax and moved to lay down on her stomach. He moved with her, holding her more gently now and massaging her hips where his hands had held her so tightly. He kissed the back of her neck and shoulders, sweeping her hair out of the way. “That was intense.” She mumbled into the pillow when she was finally able to speak. “I’ve never seen you like that before.” She rolled onto her back to see him smirking.

“Guess the green eyed monster got to me.” He admitted. “You’re beautiful. Did I hurt you?” She shook her head.

“Will you stay?”

“Do you want me to?” She nodded. She went to clean up in the bathroom first, when he returned afterwards, she was responding to a text. “Will you two be ok?”

“I won’t tell him, if that’s what you mean. I feel awful, truly I do. I just can’t stay away from you.” He pulled her to sit between his legs and held her as they fell asleep.

“I know what you mean honey.”

This time, he was gone by morning. Rebecca woke up alone. A note on hotel stationery on the table by her phone.

If I wake up with you this time, I’m afraid I’ll never leave. - T xo

She considered ordering breakfast to her room, afraid to bump into him in the restaurant. Instead, she texted Keeley to ask for moral support and made sure that she went down with her, Roy and Jamie. Ted was already down there at a table with Will, Nate, Jade and a handful of players. Leslie and Julie were nursing a few players at their table and Beard and Jane were nowhere to be seen. Rebecca gave a small smile and nod as she caught Ted’s eye, but didn’t move to join their table. Jamie and Roy demolished the biggest breakfasts she’d ever seen while she nursed a cup of tea and a chocolate croissant.

“I can’t believe you’re already going, Ted!” Keeley said sadly when he joined them.

“Just a flyin’ visit this time Keels. Maybe next time I’ll be able to stay a few days.”

“You’d better. I want to see you properly!”

“Good to see you all. I’ll speak to y’all soon ok?” He hugged Roy warmly, and Jamie, then moved around the table to say goodbye to Keeley. When he stopped in front of Rebecca she stood to embrace him. “You take care, Rebecca.” He nodded, dropping a brief, chaste kiss to her cheek.

“Goodbye Ted, I’m glad you could make it.” She watched him walk away before sitting back down next to Keeley who looked to the door then back to Rebecca putting two and two together. “Don’t say a word please, Keeley. Not a word.” She hissed quietly so that only Keeley and Roy could hear. She could already feel the guilt gnawing at her.

#ted lasso #tedbecca #ted and rebecca #tedlassoedit #ted lasso s3 #rebecca x ted #rebecca welton #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfiction

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thiscrimsonsoul · 3 months

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The man was honestly surprised that they weren’t asked more questions. This past week, Nat and Bucky had been prepping for every possible question, coming up with the perfect answers. Desperate times call for desperate measures, he supposed, and unclenched his fist.

“Well, I would prefer a daughter. What do you think, lisichka?” Bucky asked, turning to his lover. He brushed a stray strand of her dyed hair behind her ear, cherishing the intimacy of the moment. Since they’d escaped, they hadn’t had much time to focus on their relationships, what with planning to leave for the States and all.

Just then, Bucky noticed Wanda. She’d clearly been watching the entire exchange. She was young, but she didn’t look scared of him - his steely gaze, his single arm - and that was enough to seal the deal. He got down on his knees, beckoning for her.

“Hello, kotyonok,” he greeted, smiling warmly. “Do you speak Russian? It’s okay if you don’t. I can teach you, but I don’t think they speak it very often in the States. Koyuonok means kitten, and lisichka means little fox. I’m Jamie, and this is my wife, Natalie. What’s your name?”

He turned to the social worker for a brief moment. She could tell that she didn’t have any special affection for Wanda from both her expression to the way Wanda looked, and the girl herself seemed sweet and willing to go with him and Nat.

“Can you get us her paperwork?”

He refocused his attention on Wanda. “I speak Sokovian, too, if that’s easier for you, dochen'ka . How would you feel about coming to live with us? The social worker mentioned you like sitcoms - you can watch all the sitcoms you want.” Then, suddenly, he was struck by a memory. He wasn’t sure of anything, but he remembered this detail. “An old friend of mine liked musicals. We can watch some of those, too. What do you say?”

// Dad/Papa Bucky has my whole heart tbh //

__________

{Awww, yeah, it’s sweet. This is a great AU, I’m loving it! ^_^}

“Yeah. I think a daughter would be wonderful,” Nat said, smiling at Bucky. Truthfully she felt like she’d be happy with either, but if Bucky wanted a daughter, then she was inclined to let him run with it. It was something they could decide for themselves, and there hadn’t been too many things like that in their lives lately.

“Oh, very good! Well, we have plenty of sweet, adorable little girls that are available for adoption, if you’ll just-” the social worker began, but when she saw the couple looking over at Wanda, her expression changed. “Oh, um... n-not-” Not that one. She and her brother are problems, she wanted to say, but the couple had already started interacting with her. Sighing, the social worker had no choice but to go along with it, or risk losing the potential adoption altogether.

Watching from a distance, there was something about this couple that Wanda liked. They seemed... nice. But also a little sad. Just below the surface. Somehow? She didn’t know. It was just a feeling she got when she looked at them, that maybe they had gone through some things. She got feelings like that sometimes about how people thought or felt. She got them from Pietro a lot. He was really loud, even when he wasn’t speaking with his mouth.

Some of the people who had come to adopt children had been very cold, or had been very rich. Wanda got the impression that they were more there to buy an object than adopt a child, that was how cold some of them seemed. But these people had nice smiles and good energy, despite that maybe they had some problems. She liked that about them, though, because she had problems too. She and Pietro had so many problems right now...

“Hi,” Wanda said shyly when she was address. She smiled at the man as he spoke to her, even as her little heart began to pound in her chest. Usually it was Pi who talked to people while she was content to let him and hide just behind him. But she knew the social worker would never let Pi talk to any prospective parents because of his bad behavior, so Wanda knew this was something she had to do herself. “Mm, a little,” she replied with some difficulty when asked if she spoke Russian, before giving her name. “Wanda, sir,” she said politely.

The social worker really didn’t want to leave Wanda alone with the couple, afraid of what she might say. Yet, she needed get as many children adopted as possible, and if she could get rid of one of the Maximoff twins... “Right away,” she said graciously, turning to get the paperwork.

“But-!” Wanda said, looking up at her.

“Shh! Be a good girl,” the social worker said, clearly warning the girl to stay quiet.

Wanda recoiled a bit, her eyes going a little wide, and she did quiet down, at least until the social worker left. The man asked her about Sokovian, and she nodded. “Yes, please,” she said. Sokovian wasn’t her native language, a Romani dialect was, but she’d been speaking Sokovian for about three years and knew it very well. Much better than she knew Russian.

She smiled at the mention of sitcoms. Oh, they seemed like such nice people! But she couldn’t be selfish and leave Pietro behind, and truthfully, she’d never want to. “I... I would like that very much, sir, but...” Wanda said in Sokovian, looking back to make sure the social worker hadn’t come back yet.

“Go ahead, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” Nat coaxed.

It was now or never. She was going to get into so much trouble for this, but she didn’t have any choice.

“Um...! Can you take my brother too?! Please?!” Wanda blurted out.

“You have a brother here?” Nat asked, surprised to hear it.

“Yes, ma’am. His name is Pietro. We’re twins. The people here... they don’t like him because he gets mouthy sometimes, but... he just has a lot of energy, it isn’t his fault! He’ll be good, I promise!” Now that was a promise Wanda had no business making, because not even she could get Pietro to behave himself sometimes. But she had to try, and she was practically begging the couple. She fidgeted nervously with her raggedy dress, hoping they would find it in their hearts to take both of them.

Nat cast Bucky a bit of a worried glance. It sounded like these kids were in a bit of a bat situation at this orphanage, but at the same time, they hadn’t planned on adopting two children. But something about the idea of siblings being separated really upset her. She couldn’t remember why, but it made a hard lump rise up into her throat. “Could we...?” she asked Bucky softly, not wanting to get the girl’s hopes up until they had discussed it a little.

#wanda rp #{ innocent chaos } ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ #tw: orphans #guest muse: natasha romanoff

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scapegrace74-blog · 3 years

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New Ways of Turning into Stone, Chapter 6

A/N Where does the time go? I lugged my laptop 7,000km round trip with the sole intention of working on this fic, but that apparently didn’t happen. For those who found the last chapter hard to bear, I apologize in advance. I am not quite finished being cruel. With that said, trigger warning for character death, childhood disease, suicide ideation. The chapter title is Sleeping in the Clouds.

The first five chapters are available on my AO3 page.

Five Months Later

A persistent mechanical bleating lifted Claire from the indeterminate depths of medicated sleep. The emergency contact number she provided to all her patients was programmed to forward to her mobile, where a particularly aggravating ringtone ensured she would never miss a call. Even at one am on a Tuesday night.

Fumbling for the device, she glanced at the unfamiliar number before answering.

“Doctor Beauchamp speaking.” Her voice was gritty and rough. She reached for a half-filled tumbler of water while waiting for the caller to identify themselves. Over the line she could make out muted traffic noise, and perhaps a distant foghorn, but no-one spoke.

“Hello?” she inquired, torn between concern that a patient needed her and frustration that she might have been woken by a misdialed number.

“If you’re one of my patients, you need to talk to me so that I can help you.”

There was an intake of breath, a weepy sniffle, and then the click of the call being terminated. A prickle of gooseflesh washed over her. She couldn’t say exactly how, but she knew who had called, and that he needed her.

One of the grim perks of her job was that she had backdoor access to reverse look-up for telephone numbers, in cases where there was a threat of self-harm or harm to others. As Claire hastily donned socks and grabbed a winter coat, she waited on hold for the PSAP operator to provide an address.

“We’re in luck, Doctor Beauchamp. It wasna a mobile number. In fact, tis a telephone booth. Gote Lane, in Queensferry. Down near the... umm, next tae the bridge.”

Without so much as a thank you, she hung up and frantically punched the app for an Uber.

Fifteen nail biting minutes and an excessive tip later, she stood in front of an empty phone booth. Predictably, the directory had been torn out, leaving only a thin metal cord and car-key graffiti inside the cramped interior. But on top of the phone itself she found a familiar ecru business card, her name and credentials embossed in black font.

“Damn it, Jamie,” she muttered to herself, palming the card.

If he’d hung up and started walking towards the bridge, she might be able to catch him if she ran all out, but something called her towards the nearby shore instead.

The tide was out, leaving a narrow strip of beach and sharp, slimy rocks exposed to the heavy air. Her nostrils were assaulted by the briny vegetative rot of the retreating sea.

On a weathered bench facing the river, encircled by a cone of foggy streetlight, sat a man, his eyes trained on the smudgy lights of the Queensferry bridge hovering high above. Even bundled in a heavy black jacket and watch cap, she would recognize his long limbs and the set of his shoulders anywhere. She let out a long breath of relief.

She approached the bench cautiously, not certain if her presence would be welcome. Instead of turning to greet her footsteps, Jamie addressed the bridge.

“Maggie passed t’day. I called ‘cause I wanted ye tae know, but then I couldna find the words tae tell ye.” Despite his refusal to look at her, his words were calm and without a hint of the bitterness she’d expected.

“Oh, Jamie. I’m so terribly sorry. I didn’t know her well, but she was a very special little girl who loved you dearly.”

He nodded in acknowledgement of her words, but didn’t reply. She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, suddenly aware that she was still wearing her pajamas, her hair doubtless a veritable cumulus of tangled curls.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked. “I still have some contacts at the hospital, I could...” she broke off, knowing it was ridiculous to offer professional assistance when she’d been the one to sever their relationship.

“Would ye, if it’s no’ too much tae ask, would ye mind jus’ sittin’ here with me fer a bit?”

He finally turned to look at her, and she could see the spider web of red veins that surrounded his irises, testimony to his heartbreak. His mouth, usually such an accurate barometer of his mood, was strangely inert. She nodded, unable to deny him such a simple request.

It was the time of night when the daytime symphony of the city broke into its component parts, every passing car, every lapping wave a single instrument singing its own plaintive song. They sat in silence for long enough that she could feel the damp creeping up the legs of her pajamas.

“Maggie loved tae cross that bridge,” Jamie said at last. “She’d lower her window, rain or shine, and stick her wee arm out, sayin’ it felt like she was flyin’.”

Claire smiled at the image, trying to picture the little girl with the giant imagination.

“What colour was her hair, Jamie?” she asked. “Was it red, like yours?”

“Nah, dark, like Jenny’s and our Da. But wi’ curls like mine and my Ma’s. A little like yours, actually, Sassenach. That is, before the chemo took it away.”

She grimaced, not knowing what topic to choose that wouldn’t lead Jamie on a path directly back to his grief.

“She fought sae hard,” he continued before she could attempt another distraction, “but the cancer wouldna let her win.” Tears were rolling down his cheeks, glinting in the sodium light like stars, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “She was the best person I knew. Sounds strange tae say of a wee lass, but she truly was. An’ it made me a better person tae love her. What the fuck am I gonna do now?”

Jamie was looking straight at her, as though he truly expected her to offer useful guidance. All her training, her professional distance, fell away in the face of one broken man. She swallowed, searching for words that weren’t a platitude.

“You’re going to go on living, because she can’t. Because your happiness, when you are ready to feel it again, will be a gift to her memory.”

Jamie sniffed, then wiped his sleeve across his face. He placed his hand on the bench between them. Without allowing herself to think, Claire reached for it, finding his skin surprisingly warm. There was an agonizing fermata, when all the instruments held their breath, and then he turned his palm upwards to meet her own. Beneath the fog the river slipped by, blending endlessly into the sea.

"Look, Jamie, I know it’s not the right time, but I want to tell you that I’m sorry. For the way I treated you, and ended things, and...”

“Nay, Sassenach, it’s me who should apologize. I had no right tae throw my diagnosis at ye like some kinda weapon. An’ when I think of how I heedlessly brought up yer becoming a mother. I, of all people. Weel, suffice it tae say I’ve spent many an hour regretin’ my words an’ actions.”

She squeezed his hand, wordlessly declaring them equal in remorse.

“How have ye been?” he inquired, peering at her as though trying to read her state of mind on the planes of her face. She chuckled, looking away when the intensity of his gaze became too much.

“About the same, I suppose. Better some days than others. Geillis has started ordering my lunches for me, so I no longer have any excuse not to eat.” Jamie nodded, seemingly pleased with this news.

“And you? Are you still seeing Dr. Rafferty? I... uhh, I know his office requested your file.”

In fact, Giles Rafferty had called her the week after her confrontation with Jamie, wondering why his new patient’s record of treatment contained no more than his biographical details and the time and date of each of his appointments. She told him the same thing she’d told Geillis when she asked the same question in significantly cruder terms: that her weekly interactions with Jamie had never led to a professional diagnosis or a recommended course of treatment.

“Aye. He’s a good man, although tragically immune tae my charms. Unlike some.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Fraser,” she warned, although his rakish grin warmed her from the inside out.

“I’ll be darkening his doorway wi’ some frequency, after t’day,” he continued with a return to solemnity.

And yet you called me, Claire wanted to say, but didn’t. When his beloved niece had slipped away, hers had been the number he had dialed, despite everything. The very idea made her thoughts flit about like fireflies.

“I missed ye, Sassenach,” he confessed quietly after a time.

“I missed you too, Jamie.”

They sat together through the thin hours of the night, talking, sharing memories of Maggie, but mostly in silent companionship. As dawn brightened the eastern sky, the fog began to lift, revealing an overcast sky. The lights of the bridge blinked out, and the city’s music began anew. Claire wished futilely that day would never break, knowing that it would bring them both the pain of two very different kinds of goodbye.

Her hand, when Jamie finally let it go, felt strange, as though it had been separated from its source. She tucked it quickly into her pocket.

“I.. errr, I need tae be goin’,” Jamie said by way of apology. “Ian and Jenn will be needin’ me.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll just, um, call myself an Uber.”

They were both standing, neither seemingly knowing how to part.

Jamie opened his mouth, paused, shook his head in frustration, then looked away. Her traitorous hand escaped her pocket and found its way to his chest.

“I’ll be thinking of you. All of you. If there’s anything, anything at all..”

“How long until your no’ my doctor anymore? Ethically speakin’.” He was looking at her in a way that made the fireflies whirlpool about.

“What?” she asked to buy herself some time to breath.

“Before I go an’ face everything that is wrong about t’day, I want tae ken, how long must I wait before I can kiss ye again wi’out riskin’ yer reputation?”

“There’s no written timetable,” she stalled. “It’s a question of a doctor exerting undue influence or the exploitation of the patient’s trust, and there’s really...”

“Those rules are meant tae protect the patient, aye? So I should be allowed tae waive them, no’?”

“Jamie...”

“Fine, let me rephrase my question. Doctor Claire Beauchamp, when can I, James Fraser, ask ye tae look upon me as a potential suitor and no’ a former patient? Six months? A year? Two years?”

“You really are the most infuriatingly stubborn man,” she huffed.

“Aye, I ken. Sae, two years? Do we have an agreement, Sassenach?”

“Fine, yes, two years, but Jamie, I don’t expect you to...”

A finger was placed across her lips, silencing her protests.

“Two years are naught if I can kiss ye again once they have passed. Until then, Claire, please take care of yerself.”

She stood by the bench long after Jamie was gone, staring out across the river. A flock of geese flew by in formation, broad wings nearly touching the surface of the water as it reflected the steel gray clouds above. She thought of little Maggie, and her birdhouse surrounded by clouds. A sob wrestled its way up her throat, surprising in its urgency. And then, she allowed herself to cry.

#my writing #outlander

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let-the-dream-begin · 3 years

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In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 33: Blueprints

Chapter 32

Read on AO3

March 19

Jamie’s car hummed down the highway, one hand on the wheel, the other laced with Claire’s. The Spotify playlist he’d put together for the trip had gone over swimmingly; he’d mixed together all of Claire’s favorites—Barry Manilow, Elton John, Billy Joel to name a few—a few miscellaneous songs he knew she liked, and a few of his own favorites, some country songs that he knew would earn him a scoff and an eye roll.

The trip up, he could hear Claire humming as she gazed out the window.

“Come on, Sassenach. Sing.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why no’? Ye’re embarrassed?”

“Yes! And why shouldn't I be?”

“Because ye’ve, repeatedly, might I add, held my face between yer legs and begged like a depraved—”

“Oh my god! Fine!”

She’d blasted the volume, perhaps because she thought he wouldn’t be able to hear her as clearly, and she begrudgingly began singing along to Manilow’s “I Write the Songs.” After a few minutes, and after Jamie had rolled the windows down all the way, she was singing at full volume, her hair whipping into her open mouth.

She was no professional by any means, but she had a sweet, sultry, velvet sounding tone to her voice. It was different from the way he’d heard her sing with Faith, more wild and unconfined.

Now, on the way back, she was bopping to “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart,” swinging their joined hands between them. He flicked his eyes off the road for just a second to take her in, and he kissed her hand as she continued.

They’d had a wonderful weekend, just the two of them, for the first time. Through Self Direction, Claire was entitled to something she referred to as the special needs parent respite program, a trip paid for by Self Direction, and childcare provided by them as well. Mrs. Lickett, Leina, and Amy had rotated their time with Faith all weekend since Friday afternoon. Claire had been incredibly nervous, especially since Amy and Leina were still relatively new. But with Jamie’s reassurance, she’d managed to let herself believe that January to March was enough time to get accustomed to two new people without Mummy or Jamie being around. Mrs. Lickett was the one doing bedtime and overnights anyway, which was something Faith was already accustomed to with her.

“I haven’t had a weekend away since before she was born.”

Jamie had burned with hatred for the sorry excuse for a husband she’d had before, and he simultaneously vowed that this weekend away would be the best she ever had.

And, not to pat himself on the back, but he was nearly certain it had been.

They’d stayed at a quaint bed and breakfast in Auburn, by the Finger Lakes. They visited a winery, did a beer trail—the Finger Lakes Beer Trail, to be exact, hiked through a state park, went biking, made love in a hot tub, made love in their bed, made love on the balcony of their suite overlooking a garden, made love on the hike through the state park…

Come to think of it, Jamie could not name a place that they hadn’t christened as such on their trip.

As much as he loved Faith, really and truly loved her like she was his own daughter, having Claire to himself was a thrill like no other. He’d underestimated how incredible it would be. He thought that they’d gone on plenty of dates, spent plenty of late nights together with Faith fast asleep…but this trip had been different. Is this what their honeymoon would be like, he wondered…?

Proposal first, then marriage, then honeymoon, Fraser.

“Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” concluded, and Claire sighed lazily, leaning across the gap in the seats to lay her head on his shoulder, resting their joined hands in his lap. “Copacabana” came on next, and he glanced down at her mischievously, expecting the performance of a lifetime. She didn’t budge, just nestled further into his shoulder.

“What’s this, Sassenach? This is a Barry classic.”

She chuckled softly. “I know. I’m just very tired. We didn’t exactly do much sleeping.”

He made an amused noise in the back of his throat. “Aye. Something that I refuse to be sorry for.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t want you to be.”

Barry carried on about Lola and Tony, and Claire remained silent, even at the climax of the song.

“Ye sure ye’re alright?”

She looked like she was about to say something, but she didn’t. Then, after a moment:

“It just feels like it went so fast.”

“I ken what ye mean.”

“It’s not that I’m dreading parenting again. I mean, that’s a daily existential dread kind of thing. But it’s not like I don’t want to go back home to Faith.”

“Ye’ll miss me that much?” he was teasing, laughing as he said it.

“Yeah.” She was gravely serious.

His brow furrowed, and he brought their hands to his lips to kiss her knuckles again. He didn’t know what to say.

“I’m just…I’m tired of saying goodbye.”

The lines on his forehead deepened. “What d’ye mean?”

“I mean I…” She sighed, frustrated. She sat up, keeping their hands clasped. “Could you pull over?”

His heart leapt into his throat, his stomach tumbling. Rationally, he knew this could not have been going in a direction that would shatter his heart. It would make no sense. But logic could not calm the nausea as he took the next exit and pulled into the first parking lot that came up: a Burger King.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Oh God, nothing is wrong,” she said, shaking her head, laughing. She released his hand to unbuckle, then got up on her knees in the passenger seat. She took his hand with both hers, facing him. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

He unbuckled as well, swiveled a bit in the seat, and closed his free hand over hers.

“I’ve wanted to ask you this for a while, because it just makes sense, but I thought I might sound crazy because it seemed too soon.”

His confusion must have been visible, because she laughed again.

“What I’m trying to say, and failing miserably at…is that I…I’m tired of having to say goodbye. I want you here. Well, not here. But home. With us.”

He blinked dumbly “Ye…ye want me to move in…? Wi’ you?”

Claire nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “Is that crazy?”

To answer her, he captured her lips with his, kissing her firmly, sucking in through his nose for air. “Is it crazy that I’ve been wishing fer it fer months?”

She chuckled through her nose and kissed him again. Christ! And to think he was worried! She wanted him to live with her! Her and her child! It was, of course, something that he hadn’t been unable to stop thinking about for a while as well, but he’d never have asked it of her, not before she was ready. He never asked a thing of her before she was ready. And it always worked out in his favor.

She lost her balance, leaning so deeply into the kiss that she tipped off her seat and face first into Jamie’s lap, and they sputtered with laughter.

“Sorry…” She scrambled back onto her side, but not before pecking him on the cheek.

“You’re flushed wi’ joy, mo ghraidh.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Well, shouldn’t I be? I just snagged the hottest roommate on Long Island.”

He laughed, gently tugging on the strand of hair.

“Well, since we’re here, would you like some deplorable fast food?”

Jamie winced. “Tempting as that sounds…I’d rather we drive around fer something else.”

“Fair enough. Burger King doesn't exactly seem like the best meal to celebrate a couple moving in together.”

Christ! Moving in together!

“I dinna understand it.”

“What? Burger King?”

“No…I dinna understand how every single time I think I couldna possibly be any happier…I’m always proven wrong.”

——

Jamie pulled up in front of Claire’s apartment a little after eleven that night.

Our apartment, he reminded himself.

He reached over and nudged her awake, and she woke with a start.

“Shit…how long have I been out?”

“About two hours.”

“Jamie! You should’ve woken me! I feel awful for making you do all that driving alone.”

“Don’t. Ye’re the busy career woman here.”

“You have a career.”

“No’ one that starts at seven in the morning tomorrow.”

She sighed and then got out of the car, retrieving her duffle bag from the back seat. Jamie followed her up the stairs, and Mrs. Lickett was on the couch, asleep with a book in her lap. Claire gently woke her, thanked her profusely. Jamie looked around the living room, the photographs on the walls and surfaces that now included him in them, and he wanted to weep.

Claire went in to check on Faith, and Jamie wandered into the bathroom, still holding his duffle bag. He opened it and pulled out the pouch containing his toiletries. He pulled out his toothbrush and slowly, reverently, slid it into the cup that contained Claire’s and Faith’s, full of princess logos. He tucked his shaving kit into an empty space in a drawer and slid his deodorant next to Claire’s behind the mirror. The rest of his toiletries were all travel sized, so he kept them away.

He was brought out of this ritualistic unpacking by soft lips on his shoulder, and he turned to take her in his arms.

“Hmm,” she said, looking at the toothbrushes. “How symbolic.”

He hummed in thoughtful amusement, reverently kissing the crown of her head. She pulled away to sweetly kiss him on the lips, then caressed his face in her small, tender hands.

“Welcome home, love.”

——

May 12

Jamie was awake long before Claire, long before even the sun rose. Unable to sit still any longer, he carefully tucked blankets and pillows against Claire’s back, knowing the lack of his warm presence might wake her, and he slipped out of bed. Last night had been rather hectic, and Claire had desperately wanted to pack everything for the zoo the night before, but had been unable. So Jamie took the initiative now, laying out the sunscreen, packing all of Faith’s snacks, unplugging her play-tablet and putting it and her headphones in the electronics bag. He checked the charge on her assistive communication tablet and decided to plug it in anyway just in case, making a note to not let her leave without it. He packed doggy bags and Angus’s portable food and water bowls. He packed a few snacks for himself and Claire, and then he moved onto prepping breakfast.

He wouldn’t actually cook them just yet, given that Faith wouldn’t be awake for at least another hour, but he prepared batter, fruit, and chocolate chips for birthday pancakes. He moved to the fridge, checking the cabinet above it where he and Claire had hidden her birthday presents. They each had one to give her today, and one to give her the day of her party next weekend; next weekend since Mother’s Day was that coming weekend. They hadn’t decided if she’d be opening the presents before or after the zoo, so he kept them up there, deciding it best to wait if she asked for them or not. He let himself sit on the couch for a bit before he started heating the pan for the pancakes. He smiled at his tartan blanket, very at home on Claire’s couch.

He’d finished moving over all of his things in the beginning of April, and that night, he and Claire had champagne in their kitchen. He’d put all his own furniture and dishes in storage, to be placed in a house someday, if that was what Claire wanted. He’d brought over his cubed shelving, the kind that you bought with fabric drawers, and between that and the spare closet in the master that Claire hadn’t previously needed, everything fit perfectly. Atop the shelves, he laid out a few picture frames of his family, and what didn’t fit, Claire added to the wall of framed photos of her and Faith—well, her Faith, and Jamie.

Faith had adjusted beautifully, apparently hardly noticing a difference between Jamie being over all the time and just living there. Her favorite change had not, evidently, been Jamie himself, but the tartan blanket. She was constantly wrapping herself up in it, even as the May weather got increasingly warmer, rubbing it on her face, humming contently. It made Jamie unreasonably happy; it felt as if Faith’s love for the blanket extended into a love for his culture that he was so passionate about, an acceptance and celebration of who he was. He knew that was silly; she could not possibly understand the depth of its meaning, but the smile on her face when she became a tartan burrito was joy enough for him. Claire, of course, did not appreciate Faith’s attempts at eating dinner as said burrito…nor Jamie’s encouragement of the habit.

Jamie heaved himself off the couch and made his way into the kitchen to start cooking, but then a door burst open, followed by giggling, and the pattering of six little feet. Faith collided with his legs before he could cross the threshold into the kitchen, and Angus sat dutifully behind.

“Well, would ye look who it is.”

Jamie bent down to pry her off his legs and lift her above his head, causing her to squeal.

“The birthday princess herself!”

He settled her on his hip and kissed her cheek, but she reached up again, grunting, apparently wanting to be thrown up again. Jamie just shook his head and continued into the kitchen.

“What day is it, lass? Can ye tell me?” She signed birthday about a dozen times in a row, vibrating with excitement. “Aye, that’s right. Happy birthday.” He signed the words with one hand, then kissed her nose. “Would ye like to help me make yer birthday breakfast, a leannan?”

Faith reached greedy hands toward the pancake mix, and he chuckled. “Aye, we’ll get there. We have to let Angus outside first. Come on.” He carried her to the sliding glass door that led to the balcony, where they kept a few of those synthetic grass potty-patches for dogs, occasionally emptied by Jamie or Claire (mostly Jamie, but who was counting). They tried very hard to ingrain in Faith that it was her job to let him out, but it would take a while before she did so without being told. Jamie flipped the lock for her, and she used all her strength to heave open the door, and Angus pattered outside. Jamie then helped her get him fresh water and his breakfast, and then he was back inside, eating and drinking, and Jamie sat Faith on the counter.

Jamie scooped three circles into the pan of perfect proportion for Mickey Mouse, and Faith gasped dramatically. “Who’s that, Faith?”

She answered him with two perfect cups of her hands atop her head, the sign for Mickey Mouse.

“Clever lass! That’s Mickey, alright. Good signing. Good job.”

Jamie gave her a handful of chocolate chips to drop into the pancake, and she plopped them all in one spot. Jamie snorted, laughing. For the next handful, he tried hand over hand in an attempt to get her to spread them more evenly, but then she learned that the more she did it wrong, the more Jamie would try to correct her until she’d be eating chocolate chips with a side of pancake.

“Alright, no more,” Jamie said. “Ye can put some in mine and Mummy’s. How’s that?”

Before Faith could protest, Jamie was flipping the pancake, and she gasped again. “See? Mickey’s almost done cooking.”

Jamie almost laughed at how strange that sentence would sound in any other context. He slid the pancake onto a plate, used whipped cream to make eyes, a mouth, and a nose, and covered the spots with berries.

“There he is, lass.” He put the plate on the table with a flourish, and Faith threw her hands up, demanding to be taken off the counter and put in front of her food. He obliged her, carrying her over with airplane noises, and dropping her in her seat with a little crash sound effect. “There ye go. Special birthday breakfast for the birthday girl.” He kissed her head. “Ye have to eat his face first, ye ken. His eyes, his nose, his mouth.” He pointed to the strawberry eyes and nose and the blueberry mouth. “When ye finish that, then ye get syrup to eat his head. Aye?”

Faith began shoveling berries into her mouth with no regard for the whipped cream, covering her hands and face with it. Jamie started the next batch of pancakes while she ate her berries, and he cut hers up for her and added syrup while the first side was cooking. When it was time, he brought over the pan and let her put some chips in before returning it to the stove. He checked the time, decided he could let Claire sleep for a few more minutes, then started the last batch of pancakes.

When Faith was done eating and the stove was off, he spent a great deal of time de-sticky-fying Faith’s hands and face, and then he led her to his and Claire’s bedroom. (Christ, he still got butterflies thinking of it as theirs.) Faith was bouncing with excitement, but Jamie made her wait for his dramatic count to three before throwing the door open and letting her zoom into the room and onto the bed.

Jamie chuckled at the undignified oomph that Faith forced out of Claire when she pounced on her back. She started grumbling, face still in the pillow, and then it was like a switch was flipped, as if her morning-brain needed a few seconds to remember the day.

“Oh, my sweet girl!”

Her voice was breathy and still drugged with sleep, but the joy was real as she flipped over onto her back and pulled Faith to her chest.

“My six year old! Oh my goodness…”

She showered Faith’s curly head with kisses, and Faith hummed contentedly. Jamie sat on the bed by Claire’s legs, feeling a few miles closer to heaven at the sight of his girls tangled up in bed, a mess of wild curls spilling all over the pillows.

“Happy birthday, my little love.”

Faith hummed and began pushing violently away from Claire. Claire sputtered, jerking away and releasing her, and then Faith was scampering away.

“Are those pancakes I smell?” Claire said hopefully, her eyes still only half open.

“That they are.” Jamie leaned over and kissed her, and she moaned sleepily, letting him press her into the pillow, and then—

“Zoozoozoozoozoozoozoozoozoozoozoozoozoozoo—“

“Jesus H. Christ, how many times did she press it?”

Jamie sat up, looking over at Faith’s tablet screen. “Quite a bit.”

“Zoozoozoozoozoozoozoozoozoo—“

“Well make it stop!”

“Zoozoozoozoozoozoo—”

“Yes, Faith, we hear ye.” Jamie pressed the top of the screen to stop the endless stream and quickly cleared it before she could press it again. “Mummy is getting up right now, and then we’ll be getting dressed, then sunscreen, then off to the zoo.”

“She’s doing it again—”

“Come on, lass, let’s get ye dressed.”

Jamie hauled her over his shoulder, causing the iPad to flop onto the mattress. She squealed, letting her limbs fall limp.

“Yer breakfast is on the table. I packed everything we could possibly need. Eat, get ready. Let me see to her.”

“You do know it’s her birthday, not mine. You don’t need to pamper me.”

“Ach, there’s where ye’re wrong.” He sauntered over, six year old still tossed over his shoulder. “Six years ago ye were in labor fer…”

“Twenty-three hours.”

“Twenty-three bloody hours.” He leaned over, eliciting another squeal from Faith, and kissed her. “I say today is a day ye deserve to be celebrated as well. Go eat. Enjoy.”

“You sweet, bloody man.”

“Aye, I am.” He stood up straight again, and Faith let loose another squeal. “Off we go, birthday girl!”

——

It was midday; they’d just eaten lunch and ice cream, so any crabbiness to be found in the little girl was dispelled as they strolled through the gorilla exhibit. As Claire had told him she would, Faith was telling every animal she came across that it was her birthday, using her signs. Faith and Angus were held on by Claire, and Jamie pushed the stroller that was holding their bags, Faith’s communication device, and the two giraffes that she’d gotten last year’s birthday. (They’d in fact gotten ten minutes away from the house before Faith had started wailing, and it had dawned on Claire impressively quickly that Faith likely had meant to take them with her; of course they’d turned around to get them.) He and Claire had a running bet going as to which animals she’d get this year, because they both knew full well that she’d be doing the exact same thing, her desire for repeating matching sets all too permeating in everything she did.

“You know,” Claire said over her shoulder. “I think I might change my bet to gorillas.”

“Ye sure?” Jamie cocked a brow. “After last year’s debacle wi’ the tigers no’ appearing, then she sees them this year…ye were quite certain.”

“Yes, but look!”

Faith practically had her nose pressed into the glass, her eyes locked on a mother gorilla with a baby on her back.

“Aye, she’s quite taken.” Jamie watched the mother and baby.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Claire said softly. “I mean, look at her eyes. How can anyone believe she doesn’t have a soul.”

Jamie glanced at Claire, as enthralled with the creatures as Faith was, and his heart warmed. “Aye. They’re beautiful.” He crossed his arms. “Though my bet will remain wi’ the red pandas. They’re just too damned cute fer a wee lass to no’ want.”

Claire opened her mouth to retort, but it died on her lips, and she stiffened. Jamie’s brow furrowed, confused. Before he could ask what was wrong, a loud, high-pitched voice sounded, apparently for the second time. The child had been talking already; he just hadn’t heard it at first.

“Can you stop that whining noise? It’s annoying.”

Jamie flicked his eyes down, and sure enough, there was a little girl, standing far too close to Faith for comfort. Faith was humming, her usual, happy stimming sound. She was having fun. Jamie was so used to the noise he hadn’t even registered she was making it. It was white noise to him at this point, to Claire as well, he knew.

“Can you stop that whining noise? It’s annoying!”

“That’s the third time,” Claire hissed, and her small body began shaking with rage.

“Stop. It’s annoying.”

“You’re going to let her talk to my child like that?” Claire raised her voice above its previous whisper, and Jamie’s stomach flipped.

“What?” An older woman, appearing to be the complainant’s grandmother, turned away from the glass.

“You’re standing right there. I know you can hear her being nasty to my child.”

“Claire.”

“No! I want her to answer me.”

“Hey! Stop it!” In her final, fatal mistake, the blonde girl gently shoved Faith by the shoulder, appearing as if she only wanted to get her attention.

“Makenna, come on, let her be,” the grandmother finally intervened.

“Get her away from her, now.”

“Hey. They’re just being kids. Relax.”

“No. My daughter is being a kid. Your granddaughter is bullying her for being happy!”

Without another word, the grandma seized Makenna by the hand and dragged her away, disappearing into the crowd. Jamie wrapped a firm hand around Claire’s wrist to stop her from running after her.

“It’s no’ worth it. They’re leaving.”

“I feel like I’m about to explode.”

“Aye,” Jamie said softly, indeed feeling her vibrating intensifying. “I can feel. It’s over now. Look at her, she’s fine. She didna hear a word of it.”

Faith was indeed oblivious; her noise-cancelling headphones were secure in place, and she’d likely thought the girl’s small shove to be Angus. She was far too focused on the baby gorilla to have a care in the world.

“She’s fine, Claire,” Jamie repeated, loosening his grip on her wrist now that Makenna and grandma were out of sight. “Her birthday hasna been ruined. She willna remember that at all. If ye made a scene…that she’d remember.”

Claire hastily, angrily, swiped at a few tears. “I know.”

A few other guests were giving them looks over their shoulders or out of the corner of their eye. Whether it was because they, too, found Claire’s daughter annoying, or because they felt sympathy, was anyone’s guess. Nobody came forward to offer support, but neither did anyone else condemn them.

“She’s fine.”

“Yes. She’s okay.”

“Are you?” Jamie tried to meet her eye, and she finally let him. She nodded minutely.

“Just…I need to forget about it…”

Jamie nodded. Claire crouched down next to Faith, tapping her shoulder gently to signify that she was coming close so as to not startle her, being that she couldn’t hear anything. Claire began signing to her, and Faith answered clumsily, pointing to the mother and baby gorilla. After taking a moment to blink away his own tears that he hadn’t let show until Claire couldn’t see, he crouched down on her other side and joined the conversation.

She was fine, she was oblivious. She was happy, blissfully so. Her birthday was still perfect.

But Christ, that had hurt.

At the end of the day, neither Jamie nor Claire had won the bet. Despite Faith’s awe over the baby gorilla, the cuteness of the red pandas, or even, for argument’s sake, the appearance of the tigers, they walked out of the gift shop with a mother and baby elephant. Faith settled into the stroller for the journey back to the car, and by the time they took Angus for a potty break and made it to the exit, she was fast asleep, two giraffes and two elephants piled on her tiny body.

“Hey,” Jamie said. He was pushing the stroller with both hands, and one of Claire’s hands rested on his, her other holding Angus’s leash. “I love you.”

Claire peered up at him through her lashes and pecked him gratefully on the lips. “It was wonderful to have you here this year. It was the perfect sixth birthday.”

“It was. Wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. It was.”

Her cheeks were slightly pinked with sunburn, her nose darted with new freckles. Her amber eyes were swimming with the colors of the sunset around them, and Jamie sighed in perfect contentment.

“Jamie?”

“Hm?”

“I love you, too.”

No, now he was perfectly content.

——

May 14

Claire opened her mouth again, waiting patiently for Jamie’s response, and she hummed happily when he popped another grape between her lips. She sighed contentedly, shimmying back into his chest. His arms snaked around her again, and he kissed her temple. They were leaning against a tree, covered by the shade, watching Faith on a playground. It was completely fenced in, the playground and an adjoining field. Angus was laying in the grass napping, off duty until Faith needed him. She was quite independent on playgrounds these days, preferring to stop around, climb up the slide and then slide back down on her stomach, bounce on the see-saw herself, rather than drag her dog along with her. It was a good thing, Jamie had decided. The only time Faith decided to be utterly helpless was when she wanted to be pushed on the swing. She could pump her legs; Jamie had seen her do it. But she would always and forever prefer Jamie to push her. He’d been up and down a few times over the course of the afternoon.

It was a beautiful Sunday, Mother’s Day. They’d had a picnic lunch in the field, then sent Faith off to play. It was the perfect balance for Claire; Faith was close enough, having a grand old time, and yet Claire wasn’t overworked or stressed. They could just be like this, as a family.

Jamie had recently refrained from feeling any guilt when referring to the girls as his family. It was not presumptuous, not overstepping. Not anymore.

Jamie and Faith had presented Claire with breakfast in bed this morning, but not until eleven. Faith was ready to cook and have it delivered at seven, but Jamie managed to keep her happy with Sesame Street, Disney Channel, and a trip to the florist until an acceptable hour for letting Claire sleep in. The pancakes were all, of course, Mickey shaped, at Faith’s insistence. Claire loved them, and told Faith as such over and over. As Jamie had carried in the breakfast, Faith had carried in the flowers. It had been a perfect morning that carried into a perfect afternoon.

“I don’t see her,” Claire said, craning her neck. “Do you?”

“Aye, she’s under that wee rock wall cave.” Jamie gestured with his chin. “That flash o’ pink in the window. See?”

It was a small arch made of rock climbing wall that came just above Jamie’s knees. Faith enjoyed heaving herself up and just standing there, and apparently hiding underneath.

“Oh, yes, I see.” Claire eased back again. “How long has she been in there?”

“A fair bit,” he said.

“Is she just…sitting in there?”

“Aye, but I think she’s been making a nest.”

“What?”

“Ye haven’t noticed that she’s been picking up leaves and bringing them in there wi’ her?”

“No…” Claire said, a bit dazed. “I was trying to look for her on the slides or the ladders. In the groups of kids.”

“When have ye ever kent yer daughter to be among throngs of weans?” He’d meant it as a joke, but she deflated a bit.

“I hear them trying to talk to her,” she said softly. “Asking her her name, how old she is. Will she play tag, or hide and seek.”

In the beginning, Jamie and Claire had switched on and off shouting over to the kids and telling them that Faith wouldn’t answer, but after so many times, they’d given up. Faith wasn’t bothered either way.

“She’s perfectly happy on her own,” Jamie assured her.

“You don’t think she gets lonely? Or feels left out?”

“Nah.” Jamie kissed the crown of her head. “Not every kid, or every adult for that matter, needs conventional companionship. If she was lonely or unhappy she’d be all over us, asking fer snacks or juice.”

“You’re right,” Claire acquiesced. “You’re always bloody right.” She swatted his forearm in mock resentment, and he just kissed her head again.

Less than an hour later, Jamie was folding up the blanket and rousing Angus. They were out of snacks, and by the time they got home, it would be time to start dinner. When Jamie had asked Claire what she’d wanted for her Mother’s Day feast, all she’d requested was something they could all make together. So he’d decided on homemade pizza with all the toppings that Faith could throw on it to her heart’s desire.

“Come on! Five minutes are up!” Claire called, making her way to the playground. Faith was still under the rock wall. When Jamie had given her the five minute warning, she’d been on her knees and elbows, her head practically tucked into the ground.

Faith crawled out of the little tunnel obediently, and Claire reached out her hand, and Faith took it. Jamie made his way over to walk with them to the car, but Faith started tugging back.

“No, Faith. Playground is all done. It’s time to make pizza. Remember? We’ll get your chef apron, and—”

“Sassenach.”

“What?”

Jamie jerked his chin to where Faith was pulling toward. A single brown leaf was stuck in the grass, just outside the perimeter of the spongy playground floor. Claire let go of Faith’s hand, and she scuttled over to the leaf and picked it up. They watched as she crawled back into the tunnel, and she emerged almost immediately, giving Claire her hand right away.

“Good girl. Thank you, lovie.”

Instead of making her way to the car, Claire inched toward the tunnel. “Mummy wants to see what you made.”

Jamie smiled, following closely behind. Claire bent down to look into the little hole in the rock wall that they could see Faith through before.

“Wow, look at that,” Claire said, her voice breathy. “You made a little nest. That’s so sweet, baby.”

Jamie peered in, his grin stretching from ear to ear. She had to have picked up every single leaf in the entire playground, the entire field for that matter. He heard Claire sniffle, and he stole a kiss to her temple, onlooking children be damned.

“Mummy is so lucky, Faith,” she whispered, holding up the I love you sign. Faith copied, pressing the three fingers together, and Claire kissed Faith’s sweaty forehead.

——

At around nine-fifteen in the evening, Faith was fast asleep with Angus’s head trapped under her little arm. They’d all three spent the night making pizza, eating ice cream, and snuggling on the couch to watch The Little Mermaid. Jamie ducked out of Faith’s room, buzzing with excitement at having Claire to himself once more, and he locked the bedroom door behind him to find Claire already stripped down to her underwear and bra.

“Damn,” she said. “You weren’t supposed to come back until I was naked. I’m not wearing cute underwear.”

“Bloody hell, Sassenach,” Jamie half snorted, half growled. “D’ye think I give a bloody fuck about yer underwear?”

He attacked her lips with his, and there was a feverish ripping-off of clothing and underwear until they were both naked and hot and pressed together. Then Jamie slowed things down. He intended to worship her tonight, intended to show her with every kiss, touch, and stroke how much he loved her for the wonderful mother that she was, for the woman that she was. For the woman that she was because she was a mother.

After he made sure she’d found release with whatever method she deemed necessary, twice, Jamie finally perched over her and slammed home, delighting in the arch of her throat as she threw her head back in ecstasy. He could still taste her as he bent to kiss her, and her responding groan told him that she could also taste her.

He refrained from taking her hard and fast, not tonight. He let her feel every inch, let himself feel every inch. How many times had they done this? How many times had they gone to oblivion and back together?

As a lad, he’d been told by every teacher he ever had, all of them Catholic, that this was a sin. Not really the act itself, but doing it out of wedlock. He’d of course grown out of that belief, finding nothing short of holiness whenever he laid with Claire. Though, actually, the act itself could be considered a sin even in wedlock if done for pleasure. Some people believed this act must only be carried out if the intention was to create life.

Claire clenched around him, and he shuddered, groaning into her ear, unable to stop himself from speeding up.

“Yes…yes, love…”

He bit her ear, listening to her commands, listening to her body, and keeping up the faster pace.

Creating life…Christ, if Claire wasn’t on the pill, how many times might they have created life since last July?

She clawed at his back, dug her heels into his arse, mewling into his ear. His wee vixen would meet her end three times tonight, perhaps four if he paced himself.

How many times could he have made a mother of her since last July? Mathematically speaking, only once, really. It had only been ten months since they’d begun. But to think, every time he’d had her, every time she’d held him in place while he found bliss inside of her…

It was almost shameful, almost beastly, the primal urge he felt to mark her as such, to have her carry him inside her like that even long after they’d finished, pill or not.

And without that pill…

God, yes, he could make a mother out of her again. And she’d be beautiful; she’d be a goddess that they’d create together with their own hands, their own mouths, their own joining.

It was that thought that sent him fully out of control, no longer able to spare any ounce of power.

“Yes, yes, yes…”

Her words slurred until they were one strangled cry, and then they were falling together, teeth and nails latching onto anything they could.

Afterward, they lie sprawled on the disheveled sheets, catching their breath, comforter and throw pillows hastily tossed aside long ago. When Claire shivered, Jamie chuckled and pulled the top sheet over them. They were facing each other, and Claire looked mischievous, as if she were about to suggest something else to warm her up. She didn’t, though, just kept looking into his eyes like she was keeping a secret.

Then he began feeling like he was the one keeping a secret. He bit his lip, debating opening his mouth to speak or to capture that exposed, beautiful nipple again and distract her, distract himself.

He cleared his throat.

“Can I ask ye a question?” He propped himself up on his hand, and she smiled up at him.

“Of course.” She turned slightly to see him better.

“D’ye ever think about…” His voice trailed off, his throat suddenly filling with sand. Or vomit.

“What?” She mirrored him, propping up on her hand as well. “You can ask me anything, Jamie.”

He smiled nervously and averted his eyes for just a second. “Children. Well, more, that is.”

Claire blinked at him, clearly surprised.

“I’m sorry if that’s out of line…”

“No.” She stopped him before he could fully spiral, sitting up and covering herself with the sheet. “It isn’t at all.”

He sat up as well. “Ye sure?”

“We’re…building a life here, Jamie. Aren’t we?”

Now she seemed nervous.

“Aye.” He sat up and took her hand assuredly. “That we are.”

Her tight face relaxed into a tiny smile, and she squeezed his hand. “Right. So…if you want more children…you’re allowed to share that with me.”

“I didna say I — ”

“Then why are you asking?”

He had nothing to say to that.

“You’d want that?” she asked, her voice suddenly quite small. “You’d want to…have a baby? With me?”

Jamie felt his heart leap into his throat. “Aye,” he said, perhaps too quickly. “No’ right away,” he remedied. “Just…in the future. I…ye ken I love Faith like she’s my own. And together I…we’ll raise her together. As ours.”

Claire nodded, her eyes misting.

“And I could always and forever be happy wi’ just that,” Jamie continued. “It doesna matter to me that she was…sired by someone else. No’ at all. But…to see ye grow round wi’ child…my child…” It was his turn to well up. “D’ye ken I’d give anything to have known Faith fer…even a day longer than I’ve known her…? To have seen her take her first steps, watch her grow from the size of my hand to a full little person…to have watched ye carry her, bring her into the world, hold yer hand through it. To hear her first cry…Christ.” He hastily wiped his eyes. “To…to have been there during her diagnosis, fer both of ye. I wish every day I could have all of it. Because to me…she’s mine. And I canna imagine it any other way. But I wasna there.”

“Oh, Jamie…”

“It’s foolish.”

“No.” She fervently shook her head. “Not at all.”

“I mean it’s…it’s wrong…selfish to want to have a bairn wi’ ye because I didna have all that wi’ Faith. Isn’t it?”

She offered a tiny smile, shaking her head again. “You silly man. You want to be a father, and all that goes with it. That’s not selfish. That’s beautiful.”

“Ye dinna think me a greedy, ungrateful bastard?”

She bit her lip, laughing through her nose, shaking her head. She cupped his face, her grin broadening. “Someday, Jamie…it would be the greatest honor to carry your baby.”

Overwhelmed with relief and joy, Jamie kissed her passionately. He hadn’t lied; he would be happy, more than happy, to raise Faith alone as his daughter. But he feared there would always be a part of him that longed for a baby, that longed to see Claire pregnant, nursing, all of it. The thought of having it someday was enough to send him shooting into the sky.

When their lips parted, Claire did not look as joyful as he felt.

“What is it?” he said immediately.

“Jamie, I…I do want it. I want to have a baby together. Someday. But…” She swallowed. “It’s not…a proven fact, but some studies show that it’s…genetic. Autism, I mean. There’s a high chance for a second-born.”

He nodded, slowly understanding.

“I say this with all the love in my heart for Faith, but…could you…could we handle a second child with needs like hers?”

Jamie’s brow furrowed, but he nodded without hesitation. “Faith is old enough now, we’ve got a system in place fer her. If we had to do it all over again with another, it wouldna be easy, but ye wouldna be going into it blind again.”

Claire nodded. “Okay.”

“Would it be alright wi’ you?” Jamie asked. “I have no judgement, Sassenach. Ye ken that. But you know as well as any that becoming a parent means ye’re to be prepared fer any kind of child. If ye truly think it wouldna be best fer you, or Faith, then she should be our only one.”

Claire waited only a brief moment before shaking her head. “If the doctor had put Faith in my arms for the first time and said, ‘this is your baby, but she’s going to have autism’…I wouldn’t have given a damn. I was already in love. From that first second.” She squeezed his hand. “I want that again, no matter what. I want you to experience that. With me.” She kissed him sweetly, gently. “I want your child, Jamie, no matter what.”

He was happier than he’d been just two minutes ago, happier than he thought possible. As he sealed that oath with another kiss, he knew it was time.

Time to put that ring that he’d bought in August to good use.

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novelconcepts · 3 years

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Excuse you...😭 The first prompt being absolutely Older Jamie having a cat that bonds with her AND Dani... Sad hours in this house, damn

She never let them have pets. There isn't much Dani Clayton regrets--isn't much point, she's found, in the endless, boundless stretch of after--but sometimes, she does regret that much. Jamie always laughed it off, said she didn’t mind--What do I need pets for? Got more than enough to keep alive, thanks very much.--but Dani knew she’d never had animals growing up. Hadn’t stood still long enough for a cat, or a rabbit, or even fish. Maybe it’s true that you can’t miss what you never had, but she can’t help wondering if Jamie’s got some little puncture, deep down, that should have been filled with a big-hearted creature who would have put her first.

And Dani, to her eternal chagrin, hadn’t been able to fill that. Hadn’t been able to allow herself that. The beast, she was sure, would someday rise, and it was bad enough to think of Jamie going without. Bad enough to imagine Jamie staring hollowly at the door, wishing for Dani’s key in the lock. What would a dog have done? What would an animal who had only ever wanted love and to be loved have thought, the day Dani inevitably left and could not return home again?

How she’d thought of it in life, anyway. Now, she’s aware of so much. Aware of time in a slipstream around her, of the immediacy of the past, the present, the future all bound up with gold-edged ribbon. She is Dani Clayton, eight years old and watching her father waste to nothing, and she is Dani Clayton, twenty-nine and watching Eddie laugh at their engagement party, and she is Dani Clayton, thirty-one and watching Jamie nervously place a moonflower on a counter. Forever, she is Dani Clayton--the lost little girl, the stubborn young woman, the beloved wife.

And Jamie? Jamie does not yet understand forever. She isn’t yet a part of the slipstream. Jamie is silver-haired, twisting that ring: a gardener and a widow, a storyteller and a scarred heart. Jamie doesn’t get it yet. Dani wishes she could tell her. Wishes she could impart the wisdoms of after while Jamie can still make use of them.

She can’t. She’s tried. Her hand on Jamie’s shoulder, night after night, she’s tried to will the knowledge into the love of her life. I’m here. I’m always right here. You have to keep living, Jamie, you have to keep going, because I will always be right here.

For years, she’s worried it’ll never sink in. For years, which are moments, which are blinks, she watches Jamie stagger through the world. Jamie, making bargains with gods and ghosts. Jamie, unable to see her, unable to let her go. Jamie, desperate and grieving and miserable. It sets an ache in Dani’s chest she hadn’t thought she could feel anymore. All time is now. How is there still pain?

But watching Jamie--watching her run baths, button into Dani’s old blouses, prop that god-forsaken door open in dozens of hotels over the years--how could it not be painful? Watching Jamie hurt is the worst of the world. Watching Jamie in her recklessness, watching solid, grounded Jamie crack open one empty mirror at a time. How could it not dig at her?

You’ll understand, Dani thinks--and it is as much a wish as a certainty. Someday. Soon. Now. Always. You’ll understand. The gardener always learns. The gardener always listens. The gardener can’t not piece it together, given enough time.

But, for Jamie, it’s slow. It’s linear. It’s one day at a time, one year after another. For Jamie, it’s another Christmas alone. Another of Dani’s birthdays celebrated in silence: a lit candle, a photo, a woman bent over her own knees as her shoulders shudder. For Jamie, time plods. Time bleeds. Time is a wound she can’t stitch shut.

And then: the first one follows her home.

It’s an accident, Dani knows--would know, even if Jamie hadn’t in recent years taken to muttering to herself in the solace of an empty room. Jamie hadn’t even realized it was happening until the scruffy little mongrel followed her off the street, into the building. It sits--curly black fur, enormous brown eyes--at her side as if waiting. As if the invitation is implicit. As if it’s already home.

“No,” Jamie says. Dani can’t help smiling; there’s something to Jamie saying no that way that has always sounded an awful lot like a wall coming down. And, sure enough, the minute the door is open, the dog saunters inside as though it has never belonged anywhere else.

A bit, Dani thinks, like Jamie after Dani had taken her hand that night.

It’s an accident, but Jamie has never been much good at turfing out creatures in need of love once they’re inside. The dog stays. Jamie calls him Iowa--it seems to have been the first thing to slip out of her mouth, and the dog cocks his head and wags his nub of a tail, and that’s that. Jamie, for the first time in her life--fifty-seven years old, paying rent on her first flat in over a decade--has a pet.

Dani thinks it’ll be good for her. A dog begs routine. A dog needs walks, and feeding at reasonable hours, and doors that are shut at night. That Iowa seems older--relaxed and certain and just a bit bull-headed--is even better. He doesn’t run ragged around the flat, knocking into tables, shattering flower pots. He simply trots along at Jamie’s side as though he’s always been there.

It would be enough, Dani senses, if it were just the two of them. Jamie has always thrived in the caring for other living things. Jamie is happiest when given a task, a hands-on approach to the world. The dog, she may not have sought out--but the dog is hers, and she is his, and there is a kind of salvation in unexpected love.

The next one is even more of an accident, if that’s possible. A huge bear of a beast, shaggy and stained and wet-eyed. Jamie finds it limping through the streets of London with mud caked on its belly and head hung low. No tags. No marker of any kind. Iowa nudges her around the knees, looking at the mountainous creature, and Jamie sighs.

“No,” she tells him, but Dani--and Iowa--can tell it’s a lie even before the syllable is completely formed. Jamie is already reaching a cautious hand toward the trembling dog. It whimpers. It presses its nose to her outstretched fingers. Iowa’s tail wags.

London is, when given a proper bath and brushing, quite beautiful. Her limp is temporary; her attachment to Iowa in particular, eternal. The first night, with the dog resting her chin on Jamie’s knee, stretched across a threadbare couch, Jamie says, “Found it on the street. Wanted to save it” in a tone that suggests she’s speaking from a dream. Her jaw clenches. Her eyes close. Dani has never wanted so badly to break her own rules.

Neither dog seems to notice her. She’s relieved, in a way; Jamie’s nightly ritual never wavers, save for reluctantly closing the door--as with so many features of Jamie’s world, the safety of others precludes her own--and if the dogs began barking at shadows, it’s likely Jamie would never sleep again. Anyway, these aren’t her pets. Jamie has saved them--or they’ve saved her--and that bond is one Dani can’t muster envy for.

Two dogs and a home full of plants. It doesn’t bring the light back into Jamie’s eyes, not all the way, but she walks a bit taller these days. Fidgets a little less. Cries often enough, but now there are soft muzzles to press her face against when she does. It’s better, Dani can see. Nothing will ever be what it was, but better is sometimes the most you can ask for in life.

The third dog is less an accident, more a surprise. A two-for-one deal, to a degree; Jamie has wandered into the local shelter, where she’s taken to volunteering on weekends, and come across a sharp-toothed, snappish shepherd no one else seems able to touch. He’s been through the ringer, the other volunteers say, sage and exhausted by similar experiences. Abuse, probably. Neglect, probably. Only three or four, but with enough mistrust baked into his bones for three lifetimes.

“He doesn’t like men,” one weary-looking young man says. “Or people who move too fast. Or multiple people coming at him all at once.”

“Can relate,” Jamie says, her mouth quirking. Dani laughs. “What does he like?”

The volunteer points. There, in the back of the shepherd’s cage, is a lithe black shadow. It blinks lantern-gold eyes up at Jamie, tail twitching, and makes a rasping sound that might, in another animal, have been a proper meow.

“Came in same-day. Can’t separate ‘em. Not sure how we’re going to get them adopted.”

Jamie rubs her jaw, left hand hesitating on the way down. She touches the tip of a finger to her ring and heaves a sigh.

“Fuck.”

She calls the shepherd Paris, and though it takes time--several patient weeks, Jamie turning up at regular hours each day to coax the nervy animal into growing accustomed to her smell, her voice, her easy-slow method of moving--by the time the papers are signed, there’s no changing it. The flat is now overrun, dog hair clinging to every surface, water bowls standing sentry in the kitchen. The cat’s litterbox goes into the bathroom, Jamie frowning a little as she surveys the new landscape of her home.

“You,” she tells the cat. “Best behavior. Anything goes crash in the night, it’s your hide.”

The cat preens, rubbing around her ankles. Jamie sighs.

“Christ, if she could see me now.”

Something tugs deep in Dani’s chest--pride, and sorrow, and love of the most fervent kind. The dogs--proud Iowa, sweet London, Paris keeping a careful distance from both--are draped around the living room. Jamie’s home is theirs. Jamie is their home. Dani knows so well what that feels like. They’re lucky creatures.

The dogs are sleepy, warm, happy. The cat--

The cat is looking at her.

Dani frowns. She’s imagining things. Must be. She’s been drifting around Jamie--traveling the world at her side, resting a hand over her shoulder each night--for years and years. Nothing has ever looked at her. Nothing has ever seen her. Not Jamie. Not the dogs. Nothing.

But this cat. This cat, with its huge golden eyes, black ears twitching, is staring right at her.

“Huh,” says Dani.

“Mrow,” says the cat.

“C’mon,” says Jamie, oblivious to it all. “Supper.”

Days go by before Jamie properly names the cat. She strokes her fingers gently over the creature’s back, tracing the length of spine and tail, and frowns each night. “Who,” she says quietly, “are you?”

The cat butts against her palm, rumbling deep in its chest. Jamie makes a soft pensive sound.

“Vermont?” She shakes her head. “Nah. You’re different, mm? Somethin’ else.”

The cat chirps, turning its head, gazing into the corner where Dani is leaning. Dani raises a hand, wiggling her fingers experimentally. The cat makes the same noise a second time, as if in greeting. Jamie raises an eyebrow.

“Eerie little beast. Never thought I was much for cats, y’know. But here you are.”

Never thought you were much for people, either, Dani thinks with amusement. Didn’t stop you drawing us all close.

In the end, Jamie begins calling the cat Gremlin. A nickname, offered in warning, at first--any time she moved too near a plant, or experimentally sniffed at London’s paws while she slept, Jamie would quietly intone, “Oi. Gremlin. Back it up.” It is, in its own way, reminiscent of the way Poppins had clung to their first year--an accidental gift cherished by its recipient.

Dani can tell the cat--rumbling her pleasure each time the name is used--agrees. Plants are left to their devices. The dogs seem strangely hard-wired to accept the cat as their queen. Jamie shakes her head.

“So be it, suppose.”

It’s good, watching her build a routine around them. Dani hasn’t seen her stand this still since Vermont, but the dogs love the nearby park, and Gremlin sunbathes happily on the balcony, and Jamie seems, for the first time in years, to be fostering a simple sort of peace. The baths still fill, and her eyes are still too often far-away, but the door is shut. The dogs stretch out around the living room--which doubles, as all living spaces have for a decade, as Jamie’s bedroom--as if warding off intruders. The cat sets up shop on the back of the couch, peering down with regal bearing as Jamie slowly dozes off. And, when Dani inevitably presses a hand toward Jamie’s shoulder the first night--

“Hey,” she says, very quietly. “What’s this?”

Gremlin makes a raspy sort of sound, nudging toward her. She does not make contact, exactly; Dani hasn’t quite figured out touch, in all this time. She hasn’t had much cause. Touching Jamie is a dream, an ache she has carried since her death that reminds her forcefully of before, at Bly, when she hadn’t thought herself worthy or capable. Touching Jamie is the one part of all of this that still feels linear--I could touch her in life, and I can touch her when she gets here, but in between...in between...

In between, Dani can reach toward her. Can brush the space around her shoulder. Can be here, with her, in every way except directly, because some things are still unfair. Like Jamie feeling alone, even with Dani right here. Like Dani being able to always-someday-soon-now except for where it matters most.

She is in the kitchen at Bly, and she is in their bedroom in Vermont, and she is 1976, 1988, 1999, and she is--

Almost petting this cat. Almost. Her brows come sharply together, her heart thudding.

“How?” she asks Gremlin, who seems not to mind. The cat presses in a bit harder, as if to say, Keep trying. Dani sees no reason not to obey.

Each night, the animals spread around Jamie in a protective circle: Paris at the door, London beside the couch, Iowa nestled between Jamie’s knees. Each night, Gremlin sets up on the back of the couch, watching Jamie’s breath even out, and turns those enormous eyes on Dani.

And, little by little...

She can’t pick the cat up, or close her hands gently around her face. She can’t make the kind of contact she would as a living woman--matter pressing against matter, mass imposing upon mass. But her fingers are unequivocally brushing thick black fur. She can feel the cat’s breath on her skin. This is true, and real, and solid--and the cat, looking entirely too proud of herself, can plainly feel her in return.

Dani Clayton has been dead for over a decade, and Dani Clayton has been here all the same ever since, but for the first time, Dani Clayton is touching. Dani Clayton is feeling, not simply in the ether of memory, but now.

She holds a breath as Gremlin rubs against her fingers. She’s still holding it when, slowly, carefully, she reaches down to the couch.

Her fingers brush silver. Jamie’s brow knits, her lips parting. She’s always looked like this in sleep--as though some part of her just isn’t willing to shut down all the way. She’s always looked as though some part of her needs to be on guard.

Now, with Dani’s fingers threading through her hair, that tight, armored expression gives a little bit. Just a little.

In the morning, Dani wonders if Jamie’s eyes will flicker open and she will, finally, see her. There’s a breathless kind of terror to the idea--that she’s gone this long keeping Jamie safe from diving permanently into her own grief, only for a cat to undo all of that work. But, when the sun rises and Jamie rises with it, she gives no sign at all. No sign that she can see Dani, standing beside the couch, though Gremlin is staring right at her. No sign that anything has changed.

Except--except her hand, lingering at the crown of her head. Her fingers, sifting almost absently through her hair, tracing the same path Dani had been unable to pull away from. Her brow furrows. Her head shakes.

“Breakfast?” she asks the animals in various stages of waking around her. Gremlin stretches, back leg popped high, and hops down. Dani doesn’t think she’s imagining the cat’s easy swagger as she makes her way to the kitchen.

It isn’t the life she’d imagined for Jamie, laying awake and watching her sleep. Not the life she’d wanted for Jamie, hoping as hard as she could that the beast would remain always at bay. She’d never looked at Jamie and expected dogs to follow her home, hurt and lonely and in need of someone to show them the world can be kind. She hadn’t expected a cat with a swishing tail and a regal demeanor, standing sentinel. Jamie’s life has never quite veered in this direction before.

But: watching her now, as she slips a bit of apple to each dog, strokes the cat, leans her hip against the counter as she waits for the water to boil, Dani has to admit it suits her. Jamie has always been at her best giving love, even against her own better judgement.

In time, Dani’s sense of soon-someday-now-always will broaden to encompass Jamie, as well. The years will press on. There will come a time where the brush of Dani’s hand across her sleeping cheek--the phantom press of Dani soothing Jamie out of a particularly bad nightmare--will evolve into the intertwining of finally standing on the same plane again. It is the natural order of things. Organic. Dani, standing outside of time, is patient.

And Jamie: is slowly building herself a home again. Jamie is waking to take dogs out, and brushing down Gremlin’s ink-black fur, and looking more present in the world than she’s been in a decade. Jamie, staring into the mirror each night with Paris pressed resolutely against her legs, Iowa hovering in the doorway, almost smiles.

“Someday,” she murmurs, “I am going to have some stories for you.”

Dani smiles. She knows, of course--outside of time, it’s hard not to know--but she can’t wait to hear them, all the same. Stories always land a little differently, coming out of Jamie’s mouth.

Soon, she promises silently. Someday. Always. Now.

In the meantime, Jamie reaches for a bundle of leashes, giving Gremlin a brief scratch between the ears. She pauses at the door, glancing back over her shoulder, her eyes drifting over Dani without notice. At her side, heading the pack, Iowa gives a small bark to confirm his readiness.

“Right,” says Jamie softly. “Back soon.”

It is the first time in too long Dani has been sure she will be okay.

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #dani x jamie #damie #right. caveat: this was way harder to do than something this short should have been #so whether I'll do another immediately or not for weeks--can't say #but your message came in and I couldn't resist building out the headcanon #because frankly the original post made my wife cry and that gave me some feelings #also wow haven’t been like. painfully anxious posting a fic in a long-ass time #whew hi I’m suddenly 14 again

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amillionmillionvoices · 3 years

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ted lasso fic - keeley/roy, ted/rebecca. rating: t. 9k. thank you to @atheneglaukopis and @professortennant for indulging me!

dressed up to the eyes, it’s a wonderful surprise

Roy can admit, if only to himself, that he’s been in love with Keeley since the first time Jamie Fucking Tart brought her out for a dinner with the team. He’s fairly certain Keeley knew Jamie was showing her off, but she’d been sweet and jovial and even managed to rope him into a one-sided conversation, to which he remembers responding with mostly grunts, even when he could barely take his eyes off her, and while he’d questioned her judgement in dating him, of all people, he’d quickly learned that Keeley was more than a fit, footballer’s trophy girlfriend. She was quick and funny and smart as hell, smarter by far than Jamie, but she seemed to like him, and Roy still doesn’t know if it’s that, or simply his own cowardice that kept him (mostly) silent about it.

He also isn’t exactly sure what she’s doing with him now, why she’d choose an angry, washed up footballer as her partner, but he knows enough not to look that particular horse in the mouth. Instead, he does as many little things as he can for her—brings her tea when he knows she’s having a rough day, cooks her dinner, slips his hand into hers when he thinks no one’s looking.

Keeley is far more demonstrative, but he thinks she knows what he’s trying to say, when he turns up her favorite song on the radio or rubs her feet while they watch the news, smirking to himself at the little moans she makes.

She’s taught him to be a bit more open, a bit less guarded. Taught him his soft side isn’t necessarily a shortcoming, as he’d always thought. She’s made him a bit kinder, a bit less angry, at himself and the world, and he knows he can never really pay her back for that. She asks so little of him, seems content with who he is, as he is, and all she ever seems to need is his presence, his respect, his honesty.

It’s the last one he has the hardest time with, especially on days like today, when her smile is beaming and she’s talking a mile a minute about the gala, how she convinced Rebecca to join her in offering themselves up for auction, since Sam and Isaac with both be out—Sam sick with the flu, and Isaac in Basildon visiting his grandmother. She’s saying something about dragging him dress shopping later, smirks at him and tosses her hair over her shoulder.

“How much do you think I’ll go for?” she asks, and Roy rolls his eyes.

“However fucking much I have to pay for you.”

Keeley beams. “So romantic,” she says, but her eyes are bright and he knows she knows there’s no way he’d let her auction herself off to some handsy pensioner, or worse.

Roy drums his fingers on the table as she talks about dresses, interjecting his thoughts as she shows him a few pictures on her phone, but he can’t stop thinking about the other thing she said, the other person on the rich man’s chopping block.

He knows more about Rebecca than the rest of the team—knows what she did, and why. He doesn’t blame her for it, though he harbors a bit more resentment than Keeley and Ted, he’s sure. But she’s stepped up lately, been a good ally—a few months back, when the press did a rather scathing article on him and Keeley, Rebecca was the one who raised so much hell they retracted the article. When Nate found himself stuck in Sheffield, Rebecca drove herself (and Ted) to pick him up. She’s been in the locker room more, or so he’s heard, and whenever he picks Keeley up from the club, Rebecca always makes a point to drop in and say hello. Roy’s found her and Ted with their heads pressed together more than once, at a bar or in her office, and it’s been good, to see her softer side—the “real” Rebecca, as Sassy put it one night.

He knows her past, too, though, knows who she was married to, and knows without a shadow of a doubt that putting Rebecca on stage is an absolutely asinine idea. Keeley seems so proud, still talking about how much they’re going to raise for the children, that it takes him longer than it probably should for him to gather the courage to catch her gaze.

She stops, mid-sentence, and frowns. “What?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it. “Nothing.”

“No, what?” she insists. “You’ve got that face on.”

“What face?”

“The ‘I want to say something that’s going to upset my girlfriend and I don’t want to get in trouble for it” face.”

“I don’t have a fucking face for that.”

“You do, you’re wearing it right now.”

“Keeley—”

“Tell me.”

He sighs, taps his finger on the table for a moment, then squares his jaw. “Rupert‘s gonna bid on her.”

Keeley blinks. “Who?”

“Rebecca. If you put her in the auction, Rupert will bid. And he’ll win.”

“No, he’s not coming,” Keeley says firmly. “He’ll be out of town.”

“Wasn’t supposed to come last year either,” he reminds her, and tries to keep his voice soft. Keeley slows, and her expression falls into one of confusion, then guilt, and he hates himself for bringing it up, but it’s better, he thinks, to tell her now than let her find out tomorrow.

“Shit,” she says, scrambling up from the table to pace the length of her dining room. “Shit fuck shit.”

continue on ao3

#ted lasso #rebecca welton #keeley jones #roy kent #ted x rebecca #roy x keeley #catherine writes fic

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vanillann · 3 years

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rain and honey (james potter x reader)

a/n: i hope this lives up to the title!! i haven’t written of any hp characters in a minute and then i write this piece of pure fluff!!

warning: swearing and some much fluff you might choke

word count: 1.5k

harry potter masterlist

As soon as James Potter heard the light pitter-patter of rain on the window in his dorm, he was running around like a chicken when his head cut off. He knew Sirius hid it somewhere in the dorm, he wasn’t annoyed enough to hide it somewhere else.

“They’re going to find out,” Peter stepped from the bathroom, a towel in his hand as he rang his hair out and walked closer to his bed. James hurried into the bathroom, hoping Sirius didn’t hide it there.

“No, they aren’t, stay out of this!”

James swung open the cupboard in the bathroom, frowning when he didn’t spot it and all its glory.

“You dragged us into this!”

James ignored Remus, looking under the sink as a light smile painted his face as he saw it sitting there. The little glass honey bear that was full of the sticky yellow goo, something he never thought he’d be so happy to see.

“Oi, you found it,” James whipped around, frowning as Sirius stood in the doorway with his arms crossed and his shirt rolled to his elbows.

“I would kill you if we weren’t so close,” James grabbed the honey, pointing an accusing at Sirus while he slipped out from around him. He heard the little teapot the boys kept in their dorm, mostly used to heat up water when washing Remus’s wounds, and pulled his wand out of his back pocket.

“Why do you do it again?” Remus spoke up, his back leaned against one of the arms of the chair and his dangling from the other side.

“Cause they like it, duh!” James tapped his water on the kettle twice, smiling when it quickly made the whistle noise he knew it was made to make. He hurried to the teacup on his bedside table, the little Gryffindor emblem hadn’t given him away yet.

“It’s just (Y/N), besides why when it rains?” Peter spoke up this time.

“Because he is madly in love with our dearest friend,” Sirius slid beside James, his back connected with the door and his face morphed into one of pain.

“Not madly, deeply I’ll accept!” James carefully pulled the teaspoon out of his drawer, opening the top of the little bear and pouring the perfect, in (Y/N)’s opinion, into the cup. He took the spoon and swirled the liquid around, smiling at the gorgeous brown liquid made a small whirlpool in the center of the mug.

“Deeply it is then!” Sirius knew his hands in the air if he made a touchdown, smirking at his closest friend. He was so in love with this one person, he couldn’t believe it was real.

He loved them like the love in the movies, knowing they couldn’t sleep when it rained so he made a cup of tea, just how they like it, and left it beside their favorite window seal. He wrote their notes for a class when they skipped and forgot to write his own. He was consumed with them, in the best way possible. Sirius knew (Y/N) loved him just as much, as they left notes for James at dinner when they didn’t feel like coming or holding his hand when he was nervous.

“I gotta go!” James was out the door in a second, ignoring Sirius as he gave him that look, the look that told him he was in love. It was pointless, of course, James was in love with (Y/N), who wouldn’t?

As soon as he shut the door to the dorm he gently walked down the stairs, careful as he held a hand around the rim to be sure it didn’t spill. He didn’t have time to go back and make more and he wasn’t just going to leave them hanging without their nightly tea.

He passed each broken step, smiling when he saw Marlene out cold on the couch. He made a mental note when he came back to throw a blanket over her, he knew how cold she’d get at night. He continued his walk to the window seal right outside the Gryffindor common room, he liked to think they sat there just for him but he didn’t think that could be true.

His shoulder pushed the painting open, hoping the Fat Lady wouldn’t yell at him like she always did, even if she gave light smiles every time and kept his secret this past year.

He spun around, his smile dropping when he saw the silhouette of the person in question leaning against the window. Their eyes roamed the falling droplets, their lips pulled between their teeth as they looked so focused.

Does he turn around?

Did Sirius tell ‘em, he wouldn’t do that right?

“Jamie!”

He almost jumped when the nickname fell from their lips as if they were waiting for him, how he only wished that was the truth.

“(Y/N),” his voice was softer, everything about him was softer than him when they were around.

“You bought my tea,” they titled their head, a sincere look in their eye as they pointed at the mug James held so tight in between his finger he was scared he’d break it.

“Y-yeah I did,” he was shocked he got any words out, carefully taking steps closer to them before he stood in front of them. He watched his shadow cast across their face, the little rain droplets painting glitters across their face, James could swear it was something out of a painting.

“Thank you.”

They gently took the mug from his hand, smiling brighter and taking a small sniff of the liquid before the smile grew larger.

“You made it perfect again,” they whispered gently, moving their socked feet and eyes, begging James to sit. James had sat beside (Y/N) a million and ten times but suddenly he felt like he was walking into an intimate piece of them.

“You doubted me?”

“How could I? You’ve been bringing me tea since the fourth year,” they pulled the mug to their lips, smirking behind the glass while going back to watch the rain pour over the window as if their words didn’t rock his world.

“Y-you knew?”

“Duh, you’re the only person I've told how I make my tea. I remember it was during the week-”

“We played 20 questions throughout the week, I asked tea or coffee and you said ‘tea with a shit ton of honey’. Trust me, I remember,” James scratched the back of his neck, an awkward smile gracing his lips as he turned to look at the rain too.

He wondered how they couldn’t sleep during this, it was so peaceful like it could rock him to sleep.

“You must have the best memory in Hogwarts,” (Y/N) leaned up, closer to him. He could smell the honey, the one thing he’s associated with them for so long. He wondered if he drank as much honey as them would his voice be so smooth or would the idea of tasting honey on his lips be the only time he’d enjoy the sticky goo.

“When it comes to people I care about, yeah.”

“According to Lily, you care about me quite a bit Potter,” he hated that they were smirking, it was making this much easier than he thought it should be.

“What does Evans think she knows?”

Obviously she was right, but he thought he could question his way out of this, but this wasn’t detention with Slughorn.

“Say you give me doe eyes, is it true?”

He wished he didn’t see the hope in their eye, because that hope was going to make him confess this long-standing crush on his honey. His sticky and messy person of honey.

“Do you want it to be?”

“I suppose I would like it if the boy who bought me tea also liked me, I don’t like sharing my tea order with many others, and if it’s not you then well-”

He couldn’t stop himself, he had to reach out to their wrist and pull them into him. He couldn’t stop his lips from smashing into theirs with force, the idea of the sweet taste of honey was all he wanted. He wanted to be submerged into pots of it if he would never forget the taste of their lips. He’d do a slip and slide of honey to never have to learn another person's tea order.

“You have something,” he frowned when they pulled back but realized that the front of his sleep shirt was dripping wet, and kinds of burning.

“Shit,” he pulled the sticky shirt from his skin, frowning down at the cloth that had ruined his moment. Okay, maybe he ruined his own moment but it’s much easier to blame the shirt.

“Why don’t you get cleaned up?”

James pouted, looking up at them with pleading eyes. He didn’t want to leave, he didn’t want to break their perfect bubble.

“I’ll wait down here, we can watch the storm together.”

James never moved so fast, his finger held up as if to say ‘don’t move’ and his feet were running. He didn’t even think to throw the blanket over Marlene or to tell the boys what happened.

All he could link his lips and taste the honey as it soaked into his lips, and imprinted on his mind forever.

Honey and rain never meant more to James Potter in his life.

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imagineclaireandjamie · 3 years

Note

Blood calls to blood.

It Does My Heart Good: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 || Chapter 15

“That’s it, Rab!”

Jamie almost doubled over, breathing heavily, beaming with joy as his six-year-old son pedaled down the road on his bike, wobbling just a bit.

“No training wheels, Da!” Rab shouted, almost not believing it himself.

Jamie took deep, heaving breaths. “Claire!” he croaked. “Where are ye?”

Claire poked her head out of an upstairs window, peering down at her husband and son in the street. “What? Everybody all right?”

“Mama, look!” Just then Rab pedaled back to the house.

“Oh, lovie!” Quickly she darted inside, raced down the stairs, and flew out of the door, almost colliding with Jamie who still clutched to the mailbox to hold himself steady.

Rab absolutely glowed, smiling ear to ear as he pedaled back and forth in front of his parents. “Look, Mama and Da!”

Slowly, carefully, Jamie pulled his phone from his front shirt pocket to take a video of Rab racing up and down the street, giddy with joy.

“Has he fallen yet?” Claire asked, trying to not sound worried.

Jamie shrugged. “He’s a boy. It happens.”

“That’s not exactly comforting - ”

“Have ye had a message from Bree today?” he interrupted uncharacteristically.

Her brow furrowed. “No. Why?”

Jamie held out his phone so that his wife could see the screen. It was a text from Brianna, sent about half an hour previous: I need to see you and Claire tonight. We’re fine. I’ll explain later.

Silently Claire counted to five before responding. “Well I’m worried.”

Jamie watched as Rab ground the bike to a halt at the end of the road, stood up, caught his breath for a bit.

“I hope it isnae the bairn. She’d tell us, aye?”

Brianna and her husband Roger were expecting their first child - Jamie and Claire and John and Isobel’s first grandchild. It had been a surprise - Brianna had become pregnant only about three months after her wedding and six months after starting her new job, and although the two of them were young and early in their respective careers, they loved and cared for each other. And they could provide for a baby - a baby that clearly they both wanted.

Claire nodded. “She would. Same if it was some kind of problem with Roger. I know it’s been stressful, and that they’re still trying to plan for what they’ll do when she goes back to work.”

Jamie tucked his phone back into his pocket and wrapped an arm around Claire’s shoulder. “The puir child has four grandparents to care for it, not to mention two decrepit great-uncles who have gladly said they’ll be full-time carers.” That was true - Lamb and his partner Fez had told Brianna as much during the dinner they’d organized to celebrate her pregnancy. With Lamb retired and Fez on sabbatical for the next year - and with Isobel Grey only working part time, and with Jamie himself fully in control of his schedule at the bookstore, this child had an entire network of people to ensure his or her comfort and care.

“I can’t help but worry.” Claire sighed.

Jamie squeezed her shoulder. “You’re her Mam. It’s your job to worry.”

Rab raced his bike down the road again, whizzing past them, hitting a rock, and wiping out in spectacular fashion.

“Thankfully he’s wearing his jeans today,” Claire muttered before racing over to her son, too drunk with joy to feel any pain.

---

“That’s a huge scrape you’ve got there,” Brianna politely observed as her brother showed off his skinned knees.

“Yeah. And I was even wearing pants! Mama said it was a good thing I didn’t wipe out in the dirt.”

Bree smiled, rubbing her six-month-pregnant belly. “That’s certainly true.”

“How old were ye when ye learned to ride a bike?” Jamie spooned up the last of the peas Claire had made to go with the roast chicken and mashed potatos she and Bree had cooked for dinner.

Brianna frowned, thinking. “I think I was about seven. It was the summertime, I remember that. I was wearing shorts, and my legs were covered in bruises and my arms were covered in mosquito bites.”

Rab wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”

She laughed. “You don’t need to tell me that.”

Jamie swallowed his last bite and stood, pushing his chair away from the table. “All right, wee Rab. Help me clear the dishes. Bree - you and Claire can sit in the living room if ye like?”

Carefully Bree stood, stretching. “Sounds like a great idea.”

Claire stood too, and took Bree’s hand. Bree squeezed it, and together they retreated to the soft chairs in the room off of the dining room.

For a while they sat next to each other on the couch, not speaking, listening to the low hum of Jamie’s voice speaking quietly to Rab and the clink of dishes and silverware as they washed and dried. Claire wanted Bree to make the first move, but soon enough Bree spoke.

“I had a realization this morning. Well, two, really. And I wanted to talk to you about it.”

Claire nodded. Patient.

Brianna looked down at her lap as she spoke. “The first is...I almost feel terrible for saying this, but I’m glad not just that you’re a doctor, but that you’re my mother, and I can talk to you about being pregnant and all of the weird things about it, because I can’t talk to my Mom about it.”

“Because she was never pregnant,” Claire said softly.

Bree nodded. “I feel terrible even thinking that - she’s the greatest Mom, and she’s known me all of my life, but -”

“But it helps to talk to someone who has experienced it firsthand. I understand.”

“I remember when you were pregnant with Rab - I remember asking you all about it, and learning about it. Because I’d never had that growing up. But it’s all so different now.” She paused. “I feel terrible even saying that about my Mom.”

Gently Claire rubbed the back of her daughter’s hand. “Don’t feel bad. I think she’d understand. And I’m so glad that I can help you, Bree. That this is another thing we can share.”

Bree swallowed, still not looking up at her. Claire felt her daughter’s hands shake with emotion.

“Are you all right, honey? Is everything all right with Roger?”

Bree let out a breath. “Oh, Claire, he’s so wonderful. He takes such good care of me. He’s a goofball and it’s really, really endearing.”

“I’m so glad you have that love in your life. Having a child with the man you love - it’s an incredible experience.”

Inexplicably Bree began to sob. Working from an instinct she couldn’t even begin to name, Claire leaned in to hold her daughter close. Comforting her, sheltering her as she cried and cried and cried.

“What’s wrong?” she crooned softly. “You can tell me anything, lovie.”

Brianna hugged Claire even tighter. “The other thing I realized today,” she whispered, “is that I can’t even begin to imagine my life without this baby in it. And then I realized that that’s exactly what you had to do, with me.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Claire rubbed her back soothingly. “That was different. I was unmarried and alone.”

“But still - I feel such a bond with him already, and I can’t imagine disrupting that. For most of the time before I was born, you knew me - and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to keep me.”

“Yes. But I made that choice. Jamie and I made that choice together, because it was the best choice we could make for you.”

“I can’t even imagine making that choice.” Bree took a deep, shaky breath. “And it really, really hit me today. I feel like I finally understand. And I want you to know...” Now she pulled back to look at Claire, wiping away the tears still streaming down her cheeks. “I want you to know that I love you so much more for what you did for me. Because I don’t know if I’d ever have the strength to do that.”

Tears welled in Claire’s own eyes. “Jamie said something to me, before we left each other in Glasgow, during those few precious weeks we had together when we knew you were coming and before I came back to Boston. He said - love forces a person to choose. You do things you never imagined you could do before.”

Bree smiled tearfully. “He’s right.”

Claire wiped away her tears, and cradled her cheek. “Of course he is. I kept saying that to myself over and over and over before you were born, and after you were born, and after I’d moved to North Carolina.”

“I’m sorry if I scared you earlier today when I texted Jamie. I just - ”

“I know, sweetie. I know.”

Just then Rab darted into the room, oblivious to his sister’s tears. “Ice cream for dessert?”

Bree sniffed and looked at her watch. “Roger should be here in fifteen minutes or so. Mind if we wait until then?”

Rab careened out of the room, intent on setting another place at the dining room table.

“Had I not made an adoption plan for you, Bree - I never would have had Rab.”

Bree turned to her mother, incredulous. “Oh my God. You’re right.”

Claire smiled tightly. “So. Everything is worthwhile. You never know the happiness that will come from the sadness.”

Bree squeezed her hands. “My life has become so much happier with you and Jamie in it. And Rab, too.”

Claire’s heart soared. “Oh, lovie. Ours too. Ours too.”

#;mod gotham #adoption au #Anonymous

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mymelodyheart · 3 years

Text

Miles Between Us Chapter 14 ~The Element of Surprise ~

WARNING: VERY EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT

Previously in The Reunion

They fitted perfectly, her softness cradling his boneless heap, making him hard as steel again. Some part of his brain must have still been functioning because he jerked and reached out for her bra to cover her when his doorbell rang. Christ! Forcing his body to move with marginal success, he yanked her up and pulled up his jeans.

Claire slid off the table and grabbed her clothes. "Who could that be?"

"That better not be yer uncle or ..." Jamie trailed off, muttering curses under his breath, annoyed at the disturbance as he was just revving up for part two of their lovemaking. When he opened the door, a sense of deja vu hit him when he saw Mrs Fitz standing there with what seemed like a plate of a lemon meringue pie. What the fuck?

"Mrs Fitz!"

The older woman didn't bother to hide her curiosity this time as her eyes tried to peer past his shoulders. "Heard ye have company, lad, and I havenae seen Miss Claire the last couple of days."

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Six Days Later

Claire's heavy eyelids fluttered open, her brain still addled by sleep. It took her a while to gather her thoughts and remember how she'd made it to bed last night. She shifted slightly in bed, but there's a two-hundred-fifty pound of hard-muscled, naked male restricting her movement. Jamie's arm was draped across her waist, securing her against his chest, her legs confined under his heavier ones. She could feel his soft, steady breathing blowing warm air on top of her head, reminding her how well he'd been sleeping the last few nights. There had been no night terrors or unpleasant dreams interrupting his sleep, and she put it down to his workload during the day and their physical activities between the sheets at night.

Today was Friday, and the realisation caused a huge smile to spread across her face. Last night she'd worked late until past ten, and Jamie had found her fallen asleep in front of her laptop in her studio shed. He'd scooped her up in his arms and helped her get ready for bed, and just before sleep claimed her, he'd whispered he had a surprise for her today.

She wondered what the surprise was and guess it would probably be a long lie-in for them and breakfast in bed. Looking back, the past few days had flown by in a blur, packed with work and catching up with her uncle Lamb during nights. Ever since her emotional reunion with Jamie, her work-related things had gone from a shamble of mess to running smoothly. It's as if the universe had decided to grant her reprieve as everyone went out their way to appease her. Even her boss John seemed to have given her space and was allowing her to work in peace. Somehow, deep down, she had a sneaking suspicion Jamie had something to do with it.

It had all began at the start of the week when Jamie had been at work. Tom had stopped by the cottage to hand her a signed contract agreeing to his book's publication. By the time she'd told John the good news, he'd been in his element detailing his main point plan for getting the word out and announcing the book deal to Tom's adoring followers. She'd thought her boss would demand to get her and Tom on the next plane to London, but instead, John had told her he'd arranged a team to fly to Inverness for a formal meeting with their new author. As if that wasn't enough, two days later, Mary had produced enough drafts for Claire to work on and promised there would be more on the way. Her uncle, sensing work was piling, would occasionally stop by either to whip up something to eat or bring food while she'd been ensconced in her studio shed. Not that it was unusual for her uncle to perform domesticated pursuits; however, it's still surprising that he was going the extra mile to help around the house when he had the Highlands at disposal for his adventures being an outdoor person that he was.

It's becoming clear this week was proving to be a period of many turning points. She had no idea what the future had in store for her and Jamie, but she knew something had shifted in their relationship, and it was definitely for the better. Though she's still the same girl who's still trying to find her place in the world and fit in, she knew she'd changed, too. A few months ago, she would have probably backed down from any forms of conflicts, citing life as complicated enough without adding more complications. But she'd learned how to respond, choose fights that are worth fighting for and cast aside that wasn't deserving of her peace of mind. She'd also learned that once in a while, it's good for her sanity to give propriety and rules the middle finger when a situation called for it.

It's hard to believe she's planning her life in the Highlands, the place where her parents had met and found love in each other. In her quest to get to know them more, she'd spent her holidays here to be closer to their memories and live that adventure they'd so craved. Now, she was involved with a man tormented with demons. If her parents were still alive today, she wondered how they would receive Jamie. Would they have been like Jenny or her uncle, suspicious and sceptical of their relationship? Or would they have been happy with her choice just like Willie, Brian, and Ellen have been with Jamie's?

Deep in her heart, she knew that her parents would have taken one look at them and understood that Jamie was special and meant to be her life adventure. From what Claire had surmised from uncle Lamb's stories, her parents have been that kind of people, magnanimous of spirit and always saw the best in others. Jamie was like that too. He'd taken a gamble with her despite their differences and the geographical challenges ahead. Though it seemed she was helping him with his condition, unbeknownst to Jamie, he too was helping her heal the part of her that became an orphan. In some invisible way, he was repairing something in the fabric of her world that had been torn down the middle when her parents passed away. She absorbed that thought and was reminded of what Uncle Lamb once told her, that her father always had a peculiar sense of humour. With that in mind, she'd like to think that just maybe her father had sent Jamie her way on purpose. His way of telling her to let go of the past, not over-think, embrace the Highlands as much as he had and just love.

Lying next to Jamie in bed, she felt totally at peace. They might have had a crisis of faith, but she was confident they'll find their way through whatever path was laid before them. Their love wasn't and probably never going to be easy, given their journey had been emotional, tangled with roadblocks, denials and self-preservation. Still, she wanted to find her way with him. She'd just discovered this strength she didn't realise she had, and Jamie continued to surprise her with his single-mindedness purpose to be cured. Someone once said there's no fulfilment without a bit of struggle. Just like in the stories she hoped to publish one day, the heroes had to break down first and bleed before earning their happy ending. Well, if that's the rule, she couldn't envision facing life's trials and tests with any other person to stand beside her other than Jamie.

Her smile was still in place when her thoughts were suspended by a rush of heat as Jamie's hand coasted over her hip to disappear between her thighs. A sudden thrill shot through her, making her breath catch in her lungs. He shifted the leg holding her thighs down and deftly opened her to his touch, stroking the sensitive flesh in between. She felt his shaft stir against her bottom as she scooted closer to him, eliciting a guttural sound to escape his lips.

"I can practically hear the cogs turning in yer head, Sassenach," he muttered thickly, his breathing turning shallow at the back of her neck. He nipped her earlobe between his teeth and tugged. "What's going on in that mind of yers?"

"Oh, this and that and how you've been sleeping soundly ...these last few nights." She gasped out loud when he rubbed her nub with a calloused thumb. She tilted her head back to look at his face, and her lips were met by a long-drawn, possessive kiss. By the time their mouths parted, she was panting for air and squirming against him mindlessly.

"Christ, ye're ready for me. Why did ye no' wake me up?" He thrust his finger deep inside her, fondling the spot he knew drove her wild and frantic. "Next time ye want me, wake me up."

"I-I couldn't. You were sleeping so peacefully."

He paused his ministrations. "That's no' the answer I was hoping to hear."

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! "Y-yes, next time, I'll wake you up!"

"That's my lass." He sank another finger into her entrance. But as she tried to clench around him, his fingers slid out, using her wetness to coat her nub and gently rub her aching flesh. She wanted to scream at him for teasing her, but he only softly chuckled against her neck. At that moment, she needed to come more than she needed air. She hoarsely whispered his name in a plea for release. "Ach, no' yet, Sassenach ... ye listen better when I'm touching ye." She yelped when he suddenly yanked the covers away and flipped her on her stomach, the crisp morning air caressing her heated skin. "Let me see first that beautiful arse of yers." He shoved a pillow beneath her hips, putting her in a highly arousing position, her face mushed against the mattress and her bottom in the air. "Such a beautiful bum."

"Jamie ..."

He kneaded the curves of her buttocks as he let out a frustrated male groan. "Let us talk first. This is the only time I'm pretty sure ye're no' gonnae argue with me with what I'm about to say. Ye listening?"

"Yes, yes ...get on with it, damn it!"

He laughed out loud just before his lips travelled along the path of her spine, kissing and nibbling her flesh. One hand slid around her belly and down the apex of her thighs, slipping blunt fingers into her folds as his mouth moved to her neck. He lingered there, biting hard and then soothing the sting with a lick of his tongue. Anticipation pulsated within her body, and goosebumps erupted on her skin as the weight of his erection slid against her upturned bottom, and Jamie positioned himself behind her. When he hefted her higher with his forearm, she let out a squeak. "Ye'll no' be working this weekend."

"Jamie," she whimpered. "B-but I can't."

"Oh yes, ye can." Skilled fingers stroke her sensitive nub, and with one thrust of his hips, he completely filled her, taking her by surprise. She nearly screamed, pressing her mouth against the mattress, suddenly mindful of nosey neighbours. She remembered what Jamie had told her about Mrs Fitz and muffled her moans on the covers of the bed.

"Oh, God, this is not fair," she breathed on an uneven exhale.

"I told ye last night, I have a wee surprise for ye. Ye've worked long enough this week. Ye're taking a wee break this weekend." When she didn't respond, he stilled his hips and took out his fingers from inside her. "You need a break, Sassenach. Now, for the love of God, just say yes, Jamie."

When Jamie drew out his hardness and plunged deeply back into her, heart-stopping sensations coursed through her whole body. Something about how he positioned her, the fluid, smooth drives of his movement made her mad with need. She wanted to urge him to go faster, but she clamped her mouth shut. He was deliberately torturing her and forcing her to agree with him. So she decided she was going to get her own back. Contracting her inner walls, she clenched around him. From experience, she knew the more he had to work to push into her, the wilder he would become. Just when she thought she finally got the upper hand, he paused and dropped his weight, stopping just short of squashing her. "No, no, no! Please don't stop!" she wailed.

"Oh, aye." He pushed his lower body tight to her bottom, his erection throbbing inside her. When she tried to wriggle her bum to urge him to start moving again, he firmly gripped her hips in place. "Ah, I ken what ye're up to," he whispered hotly in her ears. "I'm no' taking no for an answer. Ye owe this break to yourself."

"You don't play fair."

"Neither do ye."

Thinking she could compromise later after spending the whole morning with him, she finally conceded. "Fine. Just keep moving, for God's sake!" she hissed.

He let out a pained laugh and pressed his lips on the crook of her neck. "Good lass, ye ken it makes sense." Then cursing under his breath, he moved all the way out in one smooth slide before deliciously gliding deep back. "Christ, I can feel ye want to come, but ye're going to stay with me a little longer. Ye fell asleep on me last night, leaving me with a painful cockstand."

"Jesus, Jamie."

"Aye," he rasped hoarsely into her hair. "I said the same thing when ye wriggled that pert arse against me and fell asleep immediately."

The way his thickness was invading her from an angle almost sent her hurtling over the edge. And it gave her a new appreciation for math. The thought almost made her laughed out loud if it wasn't for the pulsing pleasure between her legs.

"Christ ...look at ye," Jamie gritted, his voice sounding raw and almost severe. "So bloody perfect."

He nudged her legs wider and changed his movements to short, strong strokes, increasing his pace with primitive energy that left her gasping for breath. With the sound of their slapping bodies, the earthy scent of arousal, the sweaty slide of skin, her belly began to tighten and coil.

"I just want to make ye happy, Sassenach," he groaned, bearing down his upper body more, his hips relentlessly pounding into hers. "So just say yes to my wee surprise, aye?"

"Yes, yes, yes." Their voices sounded so far away, and her initial hesitation about taking a break from work almost forgotten. Not entirely, though. She tried to grasp that mental note about emails to be sent, but the hand gripping her hips moved, and fingers slid to rub her nub, stroking and pushing her further towards her peak. She gave in and widened her thighs to let him fill her more. But it left her no time to prepare for the release that shattered her apart, her love for him and the physical pleasure fusing to intensify the sensations blasting through her. It threatened to overwhelm her, but Jamie's presence anchored her as he followed her over, groaning her name, gripping her hips with a fierceness as he claimed her for his.

Moments later, he pulled her boneless body in his arms and tucked her into his chest, tugging the covers over them and curving his front to her back. He held her tightly as the morning light streamed through the windows.

Battling to keep her eyes open, thoughts of work slithered in, but it kept flittering away with her consciousness before she could dwell on it. Maybe just for a minute, she thought. But Jamie smelled so good, and his tender strokes enticed a hazy sleep to claim her muscles, dragging her down into the dark. Just one minute.

As she eased into sleep, his whisper drifted toward her unconscious. "It's still early, Sassenach. Sleep a wee bit more. Your wee surprise will come soon enough."

..........

Claire woke for the second time that morning with an unladylike shriek when the mattress dipped and moved. Muddled, she jackknifed into a sitting position, eyes scanning wildly around the curtain-dimmed room for a trespasser. Claire knew someone was there, her gut instinct telling her it wasn't Jamie. Summoning her eyes to refocus, she collapsed with relief when she realised who it was sat at the foot of the bed.

"Surprise!" Annalise squealed, clapping her hands.

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!" She swiped her bedraggled hair out of her face. "You scared me bloody witless."

"Bloody hell, you're jumpy." Annalise shifted a hip on the bed. "Jamie's bad dreams rubbing off on you now, are they?"

"That's not something to joke about," she glowered at her friend, pulling the covers up to her chin.

Annalise' smile waned a bit. "Hey, what's up? I'm not making fun of Jamie's nightmares, and you know that." Her shoulders slumped. "In case you don't know, bad dreams can happen to anyone. In fact, I had a bad dream a few days ago. I was being chased by a pirate."

Suddenly feeling bad for snapping at her friend, she mentally dispersed the sleep fog in her brain and gave Annalise an apologetic smile. So this was her surprise, she thought. Not that Claire wasn't happy to see her friend, but she'd expected Jamie's surprise to be a romantic weekend with him. She let out a sigh. "Chased by a pirate, huh? Let me guess ...sunken chest and no booty?"

Annalise perked up at Claire's feeble attempt to sound less grumpy. "Har de har har! I didn't realise you could be funny before coffee. A total package for a marauding pirate if I may say so."

"Tell that to Captain Beard," she mumbled, getting out of bed.

"Aye, matey!" Annalise mischievously winked. "That's if he happens to be in Isle of Harris this weekend. Which is where, by the way, we're going, as in, now! So get packing!"

Claire stilled and shook her head. "Wot?" She began to shake her head, tugging the covers around her as she made her way to the dresser. "Oh no, no, no! I'm not leaving this place for any man or woman, including you, blondie! I've got a pile of work to do. You know I have deadlines."

"Oh no, you don't. You stop right there, missy! Have you forgotten you agreed with Jamie to take a weekend break?"

Claire's eyes widened. "Oh, did he also tell you how he got me to agree?"

"No. But you can tell me later on the plane."

"Plane?" Claire dropped her face in her hands. "Oh, God, I can't believe I agreed to this. Jamie never told me anything."

Annalise stood up from where she was sitting and crossed her arms across her chest. "Hmmm, you don't look too happy to be spending time with me."

She puffed out a breath. "It's not that ..."

"We haven't had girly time in ages, Claire. Jamie thought it would do you a world of good to have a bit of fun."

"So now what? You and Jamie plotting and ganging up on me behind my back, is that it?" Claire accused. "What about Willie? Surely, you miss him more than me. When was the last time you saw him?"

Annalise grinned. "Don't worry about Willie. We have been doing a lot of catching up all night last night, and you want to know what he did?"

Claire's face crumpled in disgust as she held up a hand. "Oh, gross! Too much information. I don't want to hear about your sex life."

Annalise laughed out loud. "Fine, I won't discuss our sex life if you start packing now. Besides, you wouldn't want to waste the tickets Jamie worked so hard for, now, do you?"

Oh dear Lord, save me from well-meaning friends! She didn't really want to leave, but if Jamie had spent money organising this trip, she wasn't about to let it go to waste. But ... "How about uncle Lamb? He came to see me, and I can't just leave him."

"He knows all about the trip, and I've been told he's got a few excursions planned around the Highlands."

"Oh, well ...if that's the case, I need to call Mary and John and let them know what I'm up to this weekend."

Annalise grinned. "Jamie's sorted it already."

"Wot?" she exclaimed with disbelief, her hands landing onto her hips. "Jamie's been planning this with you all along, hasn't he?" She shook her head. "I-I can't believe it!"

"You better believe it."

Claire blew out a breath of exasperation. "Fine! Grab my suitcase. It's in the airing cupboard."

"Yay!" Annalise whirled on her feet and pumped her fist in the air. Claire couldn't help but smile as enthusiasm began to wiggle its way through her system. Maybe Jamie was right. She owed it to herself to have a break, and probably a change of scenery was what she needed. After Mary had delivered the goods, Claire had worked herself to the bone all week and sometimes into the wee hours of the morning. She was already in her second round of edits on the extensive manuscripts Mary had submitted and must admit they were indeed making progress. As for Tom, her job with him was done, and the team organised by John should be arriving next week. It was definitely time for a bit of fun.

On second thoughts, though it was generous of Jamie to arrange the trip, it would have been nice if he could come along too. But the idea of Jamie's condition worsening with something as simple as weekend trips away brought a feeling of melancholy to descend upon her. She had no doubt Jamie would be cured, and they'd be able to travel together one day, so she forced herself to shake off the momentary bout of wistfulness when Annalise came bounding back with her small suitcase.

"So ...you talked to Jamie. Where is he, by the way?" she asked, grabbing clothes from the dresser and throwing them in the bed. "He left early this morning."

"Oh! Jamie said he needed to be somewhere important, and he'll see you when we return. Willie will be driving us to the airport." When Claire frowned, Annalise came up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, we'll only be away for two days, and you'll see him again Sunday night."

It was apparent to Claire she'd been at a disadvantage waking up to the news of the weekend trip because if Jamie had suggested it a few days ago, she would have definitely put her foot down and refused. Unfortunately, Annalise and Jamie knew her too well; hence they'd planned this trip in secrecy.

Claire absorbed that for a few heartbeats and felt a tad of guilt. It had been a while she'd spent time with Annalise, and once her job was done in London, she'd be living with Jamie. Plus, who knew when she'd have another chance to hang out with her best friend ...just the two of them and in the Isle of Harris at that. Besides, they always had a great time together. There was no sense in spoiling their spontaneous weekend with her stubbornness. She might as well make the most of it.

Claire turned to face her friend and smiled. "Do I have time to shower?"

"Plenty of time," Annalise beamed. "While you get ready, I'll make some coffee. I know what you're like without your cuppa first thing." And with that, she danced out of the room, whistling, leaving Claire to shake her head in amusement.

Later that morning, as they drove past the motorway exit for the airport, Claire shifted restlessly in the backseat of Willie's car, watching the familiar structure pass by in a blur outside her window. She frowned. Willie must have forgotten to take the turn. Uh oh! But before she could say anything, Willie veered to a different dual-carriageway. She tried to relax back into her seat, thinking there was probably a different route to the airport she didn't know of.

Eventually, they pulled to a stop in front of a building that didn't resemble a terminal, but there was an airfield and a charter plane coming out of the hangar. When Willie stepped out of the car, a man with worn jeans, a black leather jacket and a pair of aviators waved. He looked kind of familiar, but Claire was unsure.

"Who is that?" Claire asked quietly.

Annalise followed her line of vision. "Oh, I thought you knew that guy." She frowned when Claire shook her head and squinted to get a better look. "I was told the guy flying our plane was the soon to be famous Highlands' ultimate guide to Scotland." As if on cue, the man removed his aviators and started walking towards their car, a smile plastered to his unshaven face. When he waved at them, Annalise giggled, and Claire's eyes widened in confusion. "You probably can't recognise him from afar ...it's your author, Tom Christie," Annalise announced with a satisfied smile and to her utmost shock. "He's flying us to Stornoway."

What the bloody hell? Jamie arranged this?

Dear Readers,

Thank you all for your readership and the feedback from the previous chapter. I'm super thrilled a lot of you enjoyed it after what I put you all through with Jamie and Claire's roller-coaster journey. I hope it was worth it all in the end.

Speaking of the end, the next chapter will be the last for this arc, and after taking a break, I will start arc three of the WONDERWALL series. I'll keep you updated here. Meanwhile, feel free to speculate what the next chapter will be. Until my next update, wishing you all good health and vibes. X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #claire beauchamp/jamie fraser #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #outlanderfanfic

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jamiemackenziefraser · 3 years

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All That Was Fair

Chapter 27: Fraser Publishing Part 2

Summary: Claire and Jamie finish out their day at work

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a/n: A huge thank you to my friend @isthisclever (/isthiscleverr on twitter ;) ) for being an amazing beta for this chapter and also dealing with my writer's block/overall overthinking <3. Go check out her story "The Other Side," which one of my favs and is almost completed, ahh! While you're at it, maybe just stalk her whole AO3 page.

Thank you so much for your patience, lovely readers. I managed to get past the writer's block, and this 5k if what just sorta happened after a month of not writing. Hope you like it!!

Chapter 27: Fraser Publishing Part 2

The air felt heavy despite the fresh scents and slight breeze. Hand in hand with Claire, Jamie walked slowly around the trail that wound its way in a meandering circle around the park. If he was being honest, he was stalling, trying to give them both time to gather themselves before going back to Fraser Publishing. Jamie couldn't ignore the grief tugging at his insides, but he forced it down deep, praying that Claire couldn’t feel it from where she held onto his hand like it was her lifeline.

Oh Christ, if she could feel how his grief was eating him up inside...

A cloud hung over them for a long while, but Jamie was trying his best to reassure Claire with comforting touches and sweet words.Gradually, her face began to lift, and he caught sight of the spark of his faerie beneath the sheen of guilt and lost potential blanketing her face. It was still clearly on her mind, though, and Jamie couldn’t shake the discomfort that he was trying to shove itself forward from the pit of his stomach and the back of his mind.

It was well past lunchtime and when he should have taken her back, but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to force her to go inside when she still seemed so… off.

Apparently that was the right decision because at one random moment, Claire stopped him and abruptly pulled him into a hug.

“What was that for, my wee faerie?” Jamie asked, brushing a few stray curls away from her forehead after holding her for a long moment.

“I love you,” she said simply.

There clearly was more on her mind. In that moment, he didn’t know whether to push her or to leave her be. He tilted his head down, catching her gaze, praying silently that he was making the right decision.

“What’s botherin’ ye, a leannan?” he asked. He slipped his fingers under her chin and lifted her face higher so he could press a soft kiss to her lips.

“I just..” she started, but cut herself off to take a deep breath. “I just… I don’t know how to tell you how I’m feeling, Jamie. I’m sad. But also I’m so, so happy. I want to be with you, be happy with you—” she tugged on his hand which was still gripping hers “—forever. I just… want it to last, I suppose?”

“It will, Sassenach,” he assured in an exhale. “It will, lass.

“I,” her eyes filled with unshed tears, and Jamie wished he could take them all in the palm of his hand and keep them from spilling from her eyes. She didn’t cry, though, just blinked watery eyes up at him. “I know we haven’t talked much about… the rest of our lives… but— talking about not having babies today just made me think. Maybe... maybe I’m not meant to be forever for you?”

Jamie’s heart dropped below his toes, sinking down through the grass beneath his feet and likely down into the very core of the earth. He could barely force the words out through his suddenly raw throat when he asked shakily, “Do… do you no’ want that, Claire?”

She shook her head so violently that the curls swished back and forth over her face. The expression of horror at the question eased Jamie considerably, and her answer fully assuaged the rest of the rising panic.

“I do want that, Jamie. From the second I ran to you from that hill I knew it was forever. I love you more than the life that was mine. I just… if that’s not what’s best for you, I wouldn’t take the rest of your life from you. Your dreams.” It was her turn to raise a hand to his face, cupping his cheek with oceans of tender, selfless concern swimming in her eyes.

“It’s always been forever for me, Sassenach,” he told her firmly, voice low. He believed it with every bone in his body. “And I told you before, I have no life but you, Claire.”

She blinked, and he could tell she was trying very hard not to break down into tears.

If he could have, he would have gotten down on one knee and proposed to her then and there. He knew it was forever, and he wanted desperately to share that with her, but there were conversations that needed to be had and preparations to be made before he could.

He let go of her hand and raised both to her face. He held her between his hands, cradling his whole entire world between his palms. Beseeching her to listen, he held her gaze for a long moment.

“I dinna have to be an empath like you to ken that ye’re still feelin’ guilty, mo ghraidh,” he said. “Please, listen to me. I wouldna tell ye this if it werena true.” He took a breath. “If you could gi’ up yer old life, yer people, yer home… for me... it is nothin’ for me to no’ be able to have biological children. I would trade everything I have to keep ye. Everything. And I wouldna think twice. I want ye forever, Sassenach, whatever that means.”

Her cheek was so soft under his fingers, and he was startled to find wetness there. He glanced up to her eyes to find that she’d finally lost her control and tears were escaping to roll down her face.

“Please, dinna cry anymore,” he pleaded, “I canna bear for ye to be in pain.”

“I’m not crying because I’m sad, Jamie,” she whispered. “I’m crying because I love you.”

***

Walking back inside Fraser’s Publishing some time later, Claire seemed much more at peace. She no longer visibly waged war inside herself, and Jamie felt like he could finally breathe. The heartache they’d shared was far from over, but at least its troubles for that day could be left outside in the park.

As they came inside, they were greeted by Mrs. Crook, who immediately beckoned them over to her desk with an eager wave.

“Claire, darling! I have some homemade cookies I thought ye might like to try…”

“That’s verra kind, but she has food allergies, Mrs. Crook. She doesna accept food from anyone,” Jamie quickly cut in.

“Oh, well,” Mrs. Crook looked back toward Claire again. “I saw ye wi’ the Murray weans earlier, dear. Maybe ye would be interested in seein’ some photographs of my darling grandbairns?”

The woman was clearly desperate to bond with Claire, and Jamie couldn’t help but feel proud to see how much of an impression his lass had made. Claire shot him a quick smile, giving him a nod and a look that said “I’ll be alright.”

“I’ll meet ye back in my office,” Jamie said, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of her curls.

Before she could even reply to him, Mrs. Crook had snagged her arm and was herding her over to her desk, Claire good-naturedly following while blowing Jamie a kiss.

Leaving the ladies in peace, Jamie started toward his office. Before he’d even made it out of the reception area, however, he found himself face-to-face with Geneva Dunsany, forcing him to grind to a halt.

Geneva was one of the lower level staff members in marketing and a relatively new hire. Jamie usually only hired people he knew personally, but John had insisted on her as a favor to her father, a longtime family friend. Jamie didn’t know much about her other than that she was competent enough at her job that he never had to interact much.

But here in front of him stood the dark-haired lass, her face caked in makeup that was a shade too dark and her fake lashes blinking up at him.

“I wondered if I might have a moment,” she asked.

Jamie spared a glance behind him, checking that Claire was alright. Upon seeing her chatting away with Mrs. Crook over a picture on the reception desk (and hopefully not in immediate danger of revealing her secret), he turned back to Geneva.

“Of course. What can I do for ye?”

“I had a question about… Well, I thought I might ask you to have a look over some quarterly reports I’ve completed.”

As she was speaking, Jamie shot another look over his shoulder. He couldn’t help but worry about Claire when she wasn’t by his side, and he was impatient to get her tucked safely away in his office so he could finally get some real work done.

Geneva was clearly displeased by his less than courteous behavior.

“Mr. Fraser,” she sighed.

He turned back toward her, reminding himself of his dedication to his company— as distracted as he was, an employee didn’t deserve to be treated like this.

Geneva was already speaking again. “I was wondering if perhaps later today you could come by my office? Or I could come to yours?”

“Ms. Dunsany, I’m afraid I’m verra busy at the moment and I’ve lost a fair bit of time already… Perhaps ye could take it up wi’ John instead?”

“But…” her response faded from his attention as a familiar wee hand suddenly wrapped itself around his bicep and a body pressed flush against his side.

At Claire’s sudden appearance, Geneva cut herself off mid sentence, her painted mouth falling open into a disgruntled “o.”

“Hi, my love,” Claire all but purred to Jamie, giving his arm a squeeze. She tugged him slightly downward, enough so that she could stand on her tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek.

Jamie was left bewildered as one of her hands snaked over to plant itself firmly on the center of his chest and rub back and forth.

“Hi, mo ghraidh, ehm—” he struggled to find words as Claire gave him another kiss, this time to his shoulder. He could barely focus his mind as it seemed her hands were everywhere at once: stroking his chest, rubbing his arm. What the devil had gotten into her?

He finally remembered what he was trying to do, and managed out a weak, “This is Geneva, our…” her job title flew out the window as Claire’s hand went from his chest to hook into one of his belt loops on the opposite side, effectively stopping his heart and his brain in one simple motion.

“Geneva, this is Claire,” the words burst out in a rush with zero brain cells behind them as he desperately tried to fulfill his social duties in the face of his girlfriend’s advances.

He lowered his head to try to catch a glance at Claire’s face, to make eye contact and glean some sort of clue about what had gotten into her, but he found she wasn’t even looking at him. Instead, her eyes were fixed straight ahead, right on Geneva.

“Hello,” Geneva said, a hint of disapproval in her voice. She took a step back from them as her eyes flicked up and down.

“Hello,” Claire replied, but her tone made Jamie start. Never before had he heard his faerie— his joyful, bubbly, loves-everyone-without-discrimination faerie— sound so cold. Her voice was low and steady, without even a hint of smile.

Jamie’s brain went on high alert as Geneva reached a hand out for a handshake. They had rehearsed this in the car (not that Claire’d had a chance to use it yet with all the hugs she’d been giving out), but Jamie was worried that all the training had gone from her mind when she had apparently lost her marbles.

However, Claire removed her right hand from where it had been placed over Jamie’s stomach to reach out and clasp Geneva’s while keeping herself firmly glued to Jamie’s side.

He could feel her stiffen against him the moment the two lasses made contact, and then, as if a rubber band had been snapped, Claire withdrew her hand and turned to Jamie with a jerk.

“I need something from your… room, darling,” she said forcefully, clearly forgetting the word for office.

“Of course, a leannan, what do ye—”

Before he could finish getting out his question, Claire was stepping in front of him to drag him away. He allowed himself to be tugged off by his faerie, leaving behind a nonplussed and rather displeased looking Geneva.

When they got down the hall to his office, Claire all but shoved him inside. Jamie stumbled through as Claire shut the door behind them. He was just beginning to ask, “What the devil has gotten into ye—?” when Claire was suddenly on top of him, her lips claiming his so insistently that it was almost an attack rather than a kiss.

His words were muffled by her lips, and he found himself getting shoved up against a wall as she took his mouth. All protestations died in his throat and her strange behavior was wiped from his mind as her kiss clouded his senses, filling him so entirely. He let her tangle her fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him down to her, and he didn’t resist even as she tugged hard and her tongue swiped into his mouth.

He was fairly certain that she would be the death of him, but he was more than willing to die of asphyxiation if it meant that her lips wouldn’t leave his. Her mouth pressed hot against his, demanding and consuming. Still, as his lungs screamed for air, and he urgently squeezed her waist where his hands were resting.

She tore her lips away, gasping for breath, and then stood there, panting. She was quite a sight. Her hair was mussed, lips puffy, and her eyes held a hard look, darker than he’d ever seen them before.

What the hell?

“What— what was that?” Jamie gasped, barely able to find his breath. Claire had clearly stolen it from him during that heated kiss, right along with his wits and perhaps even his free will.

“You’re mine,” Claire said hotly, drawing closer again so her body could press against his as she said it. Her eyes blazed as they locked with Jamie, as if daring him to disagree.

“Of course I’m yours, mo nighean donn, but what brought this on?”

Claire had been in the process of leaning in to trail a line of kisses down his neck when he spoke, and she halted on her second kiss to draw back with a huff.

Clearly bothered, she looked almost dangerous as she said in a low voice, “Geneva. She wants you.”

“What?” it was almost a laugh as Jamie reacted to her claim.

Claire took a tiny step back so she could properly meet his eyes, and then said, very resolutely, “She does, Jamie. I touched her, I know. I could tell even before I felt it that she wanted you.”

Jamie’s mouth fell open at this revelation. He knew better than to protest, and upon hearing her confirmation, he realized that Geneva had been rather forward lately, but that didn’t mean she…

Looking at Claire’s heated expression, it clearly did. His lass was inflamed. Her cheeks were flushed, pupils dilated, and her jaw clenched tightly.

Jamie couldn’t help it as a smirk began to turn up the corner of his lips and a warm feeling of something akin to satisfaction spread in his chest.

“So ye’re tellin’ me… that whole scene outside, and then you all but attackin’ me in here… was because ye were jealous?”

“Well,” Claire shifted on her feet slightly, for the first time in several minutes breaking free from her severe look, “yes. You’re mine, and she—”

“Aye, I’m yers, mo ghraidh, no doubt about it,” he confirmed without hesitation, making sure she knew it was the absolute truth of his heart, “jes’ as ye’re mine.”

He couldn’t help but smile though as the pieces all fell into place. She’d seen him from across the room and gotten jealous, so she had marched on over to stake her claim on him before demonstrating her power by stealing him away, only to kiss the living daylights out of him. It all made sense now. Her behavior wasn’t random. It was possessive.

“You’re enjoying this!” Claire exclaimed, looking up at him with an open mouth. She was trying to sound appalled, but he could see the smile she was trying to smother turning up the corners of her lips.

The laughter bubbled up from his chest, and he grabbed her around the waist to pull her against him as he chuckled. “Ye’re too much, mo nighean donn. And it only makes me love ye more and more.”

Despite herself, she started laughing too, grabbing his shoulders as he hauled her against him.

“I suppose it was rather… petty,” she admitted, biting her lip.

“Mmmm, the way ye kissed me, though. I think I wish more lassies would take a fancy to me jes’ to get that reaction from ye again…”

She smacked him lightly on the chest, but she was still smiling as he leaned down to peck her on the lips.

“You don’t need silly girls to want you in order to get me to kiss you like that…” Claire teased, standing on her tiptoes so she could hover her lips over his.

“Oh, is that so? What must I do, then?”

“Absolutely nothing,” she breathed.

And then her lips were on his again, and she showed him exactly how little he had to do.

Jamie lost another solid twenty minutes of work time due to the makeout session with Claire that ended up with him pressed against his desk and Claire doing her darndest to make him lose every ounce of self control he’d ever possessed. He’d never been more grateful in his life that his office window had blinds and a locking door.

As nice as it was to have the very enjoyable attentions of his love, he had wasted so much of the day away already, and there was work to be done. He reluctantly detached his faerie, pulling her away by the waist while she murmured a protest.

Jamie swiped a thumb over her puffy lips as she pouted at him, resisting the urge to laugh.

How he loved her with his whole heart.

“Sorry, Sassenach, I really hafta finish up some work before everyone leaves for the day, and at this rate, I willna ever be able to stop kissin’ ye.”

She caught his fingers in a quick kiss before she frowned. “I don’t understand why all of you are so caught up with ‘work’,” she commented with distaste.

“I’m beginnin’ to agree wi’ ye, Sassenach,” Jamie snorted. The temptation to throw everything out the window and pay attention to absolutely nothing save this alluring creature in front of him was nearly enough to drive him mad. But Jamie loved his work, cared about his business, and he had to have some self control— what few scraps remained.

“Why dinna ye look through some of my books on the shelves while I work? I ken ye canna read the words, but there are some verra beautiful illustrations— uh, pictures, drawings— in some of them.”

Jamie cursed himself for not bringing adequate entertainment for her. Although, beyond Adso, the space heater, and the garden— well, and him, of course— Jamie wasn’t sure what exactly entertained Claire.

She agreed with only a brief pout, and Jamie could finally let out the breath he’d been holding when she was safely across the room, browsing the bookshelf. Feeling his heart rate finally descend (was it safe for it to be that elevated for that long?) he settled down in front of his computer.

He managed to get a good chunk of work done while Claire busied herself with flipping through nearly every book he owned. It turned out that it was an excellent idea, as she seemed well entertained. Every once in a while, Jamie would hear a gasp and have to look up to see the adorable expression of wonder on Claire’s face as she discovered another illustration. It was mainly the kids books, he noticed, that really wowed her. Likely because she could follow the story based on the pictures, and she grew absorbed. Before long, there was a semi-circle of opened books surrounding her on the floor. It warmed him to notice that she never closed them— always leaving them open when she found an illustration she particularly liked, as if she wanted to go back and see it again.

Despite her fascination and apparent entertainment, it was what felt like a short time later when Jamie was interrupted from deep concentration by a hand sliding up his arm to rest on his shoulder.

“Claire, what are ye—?” he started, but was cut off when both of her hands smoothed over his shoulders.

“You’re so tense,” came her smooth voice startlingly close to his ear.

“Aye,” he said, rolling his shoulders, “I tend tae carry my stress there when I’m workin.”

“I don’t want you to be tense.” Her breath tickled his ear, and a shiver rolled down his spine. Warm hands began kneading into his shoulders, digging into the soreness of the muscles. Her touch was the perfect mix of gentle and strong, pulling the tension from his body. He couldn’t help the sigh that fell from his lips.

Her hands didn’t let up their work, but she sometimes paused to smooth over his shoulders in broad strokes. Without meaning to, his hands fell away from the keyboard and his head tilted back. His eyes were closed in relaxation… when had he closed his eyes?

He realized distantly that Claire was murmuring soothing words above him.

“Does that feel good? Let out the tension, darling. There. I’ve got you.”

She hit a particularly tense knot, but the magic of her fingers had it loosening after only a second.

“Oh Lord,” he breathed, feeling like he was in a trance. “Ye’re so good at this. I—”

His eyes suddenly popped open and he bolted up in his chair, “Christ, lass. Ye’re doin’ yer best tae distract me from my work, are ye no’?”

“Shhh, don’t worry about it, just relax, my love,” she murmured into his ear, pressing down on his shoulders to get him to sit back in his chair again.

He was onto her game now, though, and reached up to grab her hand and still her.

“I have tae work, lass.”

“I’m not stopping you,” she replied.

The hand he hadn’t seized stroked over his shoulder. Feeling unequipped to the task of arguing with her, Jamie simply let go and brought his hands back to the keyboard.

Alright, Fraser. This is a simple game. If you stop giving her attention, she’ll get bored and leave ye be.

He focused all this attention on the computer screen, ignoring her as she continued her ministrations. It wasn’t the best job, but he managed to type out a few sentences before suddenly there were soft lips tracing the shell of his ear.

Another shiver ran down his spine, and there was a slight tug of teeth on his earlobe before she kissed it again, soothing the spot with a flutter of breath.

“Sassenach,” he said in a warning tone.

“What? I’m not stopping you,” she replied innocently before stooping lower to brush her lips— just barely— down his throat.

“Ye ken verra well that ye are,” he sighed, the sound turning from frustration to pleasure as she hit a particular spot that made his stomach twist.

Her fingers were tracing just barely under his shirt, tucking themselves inside the collar. She didn’t seem to be listening, or maybe it was just that she didn’t care, because she refused to respond to the protestation. Instead, she breathed out, “Do you know you have beautiful collarbones?”

“I didna ken, and I thank ye for the observation. May I return to my work now?” Jamie asked, trying to keep the pleading from his tone.

She hummed to herself, “I’m not standing in your way.”

Okay. So maybe he wasn’t quite strong enough to ignore it. And she was in no mood to free him from her clutches on her own accord.

Swivelling so abruptly in his chair that Claire nearly fell over backward in surprise, he faced her. He took her hands in his and brushed his thumbs over the back of her knuckles.

“Listen, lass. There’s no way I’ll get anythin’ done while ye’re toyin’ wi’ me, and I still have much to do. So let me make ye a deal. Gi’ me one hour wi’out interruptions, and I’ll… well…” Jamie found himself at a loss for bargaining chips. Ifrinn. The lass had him so well in the palm of her hand that he already gave her whatever she wanted. He decided to flip it and open it up to her. “What do ye want? In return?”

Her eyes flashed with excitement and a twinkle of mischief. Jamie braced himself for some devious declaration or demand for a game that would prove tortuous for his self control, but instead of anything like that, Claire surprised him by smugly requesting, “I want one hour in front of the heater.”

Jamie nearly laughed out loud. He’d come to realize that the lass thought that the space heater was a precious, exhaustible commodity, not some piece of junk hooked up to electricity. He hadn’t wanted to disavow her of that notion for fear that she’d spend every waking second in front of it instead of with him, and it seemed now it was going to play the situation to his advantage.

“I think I may be able tae make that happen,” he said slowly, keeping his cards close to his chest.

“With you!” she added quickly, narrowing her eyes, “for the full hour.”

“Do we have a deal then?” he asked, putting on his best business face.

“We have a deal,” Claire nodded primly.

Rather than a handshake, Jamie opted for a quick peck of lips. As Claire drew away and made to head back toward the bookshelf on the opposite corner of the room, she looked like a cat that got the cream.

Better luck next time, lass. If you wanna bargain, better come knowing what’s of value.

Feeling smug in his own right, Jamie returned to his work. This time, it wasn’t his girlfriend’s hands on him distracting his mind. Rather, it was the unshakable feeling of fondness that filled his stomach and warmed him to his toes.

***

“Hey, Jamie?” Claire asked, breaking the silence about 45 minutes into the agreed hour.

“What is it, a leannan?”

He tore his gaze from his computer to find Claire looking up at him from where she sat on the floor at the foot of the bookshelf. Her arms were wrapped around her middle, and she looked so wee curled up in the corner, shooting him a troubled gaze with eyes that were round as a doe’s.

“I’m cold.”

Brows furrowing, he abandoned his work— in the middle of a sentence no less— and went to her. She was shivering, despite it being rather balmy in his office.

His wee faerie, typical.

“Here, lass.” Jamie stripped off his suit jacket to wrap around her shoulders. She took it gratefully, her hands brushing Jamie’s at the edges. That bit of contact jolted through him, shattering any notions of him returning to his work straight away, and he fell to his knees beside her so he could wrap her in a hug.

She melted instantly into his arms, laying her head on his shoulder. He smoothed his hands up and down her back, and it was at that moment that he felt her shivering.

“Christ, lass, ye really are cold,” he burst out in concern.

“It’s cold,” she repeated, shifting herself within his arms to burrow closer.

“It’s no’ this cold,” he breathed.

She didn’t say anything, just trembled against him. She withdrew her hands from around his middle and instead tucked them against his chest between where their bodies were pressed together.

Jamie bit his bottom lip and repositioned himself to get comfortable. It seemed he was in for a longer break from his work than expected. His heart was beginning to beat faster as anxiety for his love rose in his chest.

“This is more than temperature, a ghraidh,” he said softly.

She shook her head where it laid on his shoulder but made no move to raise it and look at him.

“Ye were fine all mornin’,” he noted quietly as his brain began working in earnest.

“I’m fine now,” Claire insisted, her voice muffled from where her mouth pressed against Jamie’s shoulder.

“I dinna think ye are,” Jamie finally said out loud, admitting the fear that had been rattling around inside of him for days now. He’d watched the little things add up, even worried over them, but every time he managed to convince himself it was nothing. Even just this morning he’d thought perhaps everything was in his head. Now, however, it was just another item to add to the growing list that was too long to be coincidence.

“I told you, Jamie. It’s nothing,” Claire said, her voice gaining an edge to it. “I can feel you worrying.”

Jamie swallowed thickly. A rush of guilt washed over him, and he wondered whether she could feel that too. Gah! It was impossible not to feel things, especially when it came to her. It was terrifying to know she could read them, and that what he was feeling could make things worse for her.

“This isna nothin’ Sassenach, but I dinna ken—”

Claire sat up abruptly, pushing herself away from him with two hands planted firmly on his chest until she had gained her distance. Irritation was rising in her as warm spots on her cheeks, and her eyes flashed a darker shade of gold.

“Don’t tell me about me like you know better than I do,” she said, brows drawing together in frustration.

“I’m no’, I just—”

Jamie reached for her, but she batted his hands away.

“I’m telling you, it’s nothing. If you were tired of trying to warm me up, you could have just said something.”

She was moving backward now, attempting to put more distance between them, but Jamie reached out to grasp her upper arm, holding her still. Her head whipped toward him, eyes hard and ready to lash out, but Jamie spoke before she could.

“Please, dinna go,” was all he could think to say.

It wasn’t like she was actually going to storm out of his office— at least he hoped not— but it still hurt for her to tear herself away like that. He didn’t want to fight.

Something— perhaps it was his pleading tone, the look on his face, or maybe she could actually feel his distress— made her freeze and give him her attention.

“I’m sorry if I made ye feel like ye werena my priority, mo ghraidh, because ye are. Always. I would abandon work entirely jes’ tae hold ye in my arms, for however long ye wanted. I’m jes’ worried, lass, I dinna mean to presume I ken more than you do about yer own body. I’m sorry. Please, lass, come here to me?”

Claire’s eyes filled with tears. She remained stock still, her eyes locked with Jamie’s. There was a long moment where he watched the moisture gather in her eyes and the gears turn in her head as she fought within herself, and then she broke the stillness. She did come to him then, scrambling up into his lap and throwing her arms around him. A wet face pressed into the crook of his neck, and Jamie quickly brought his arms up to hold her, pressing her face into him and feeling relief course through him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t know why I lashed out at you, Jamie. I didn’t mean that.”

“Hush, hush, it’s okay, a leannan,” Jamie soothed, carding his fingers through her curls and rocking her back and forth. “Ye’ve had a long day. Ye’ve felt yer share of heartache, met so many new people and seen so many new things, and ye’re tired. Why dinna we head home now, aye?”

She drew back, blinking tears away from her eyelashes. “Maybe just in a moment?”

“Of course, Sassenach.” Jamie didn’t need to be an empath to know that she needed a second to gather herself together before she could face the task of exiting the building and encountering whatever people went along with that.

“Hey, I love you,” Jamie added softly, petting her hair, pulling it back away from her neck over and over. He stretched his thumb so he could smooth over the long muscle of her neck, feeling the soft skin and wishing he were at an angle that he could press a kiss there.

“I love you, too,” came her quiet response.

***

a/n: Important Update:

Hey friends! So I may be going off the grid a bit later in June, not 100% sure yet. There probably will end up being a brief hiatus for this story, and I wish I could tell you exactly what it will look like, but I don't know yet. I will keep you posted here. Thank you so much for your flexibility and investment in the story, and I'll do my best not to leave you at cliffhangers. While I still have time left, be prepared that updates may get a bit more frequent.

I don’t remember if I’ve announced it on here yet, but I also want to officially say that an Arc III is in the works! I’ve already started writing a bit on it because I’m so excited about it. So don’t worry, even if there is a brief hiatus, there is lots of story left. Thank you for sticking with me!!!

#wooohooo finally managed to write it!!!#all that was fair #claire x jamie #outlander fanfiction #update #fae claire

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agustdef · 4 years

Text

Tiptoeing: Around You | m.

✰ Pairing: Christian Yu/Reader

› Genres: Smut, Fluff, Mildest of Angst

✰ Rating: 18+

› Warnings: Language

✰ Status: Oneshot

› In Collaboration: With @shadowsremedy who altered my plans a little, but I don’t mind it. Here is his fic, they’re both in the same universe: Tiptoeing: Around Love.

✰ Beta Read: @suhdays and @ppersonna

› Banner: @shadowsremedy

✰ Summary: YN has pined after Christian for a while, but after one more kick in the butt by her best friend and an evening in the same room she finally acts on those feelings.

› A/N: This fic was written for the sweet and mildly chaotic @dee-ehn for her birthday. You deserve the world, but since I cannot give you that we’re going to have to settle for some fictional content starring the ever handsome and rude Christian Yu. I hope you enjoy it love and I hope your day was great!

“Pft, you’re no better than me,” YN whispered into her phone.

There was a loud chuckle on the other side and then it stopped abruptly.

“Yeah, but at least I have a girlfriend. You’re out here acting like a lovesick puppy for a guy who is clearly into you. I don’t know how much sadder this can get at this point. It’s been months, YN,” Yoongi said.

Naturally, she rolled his eyes at his words. The fact that all of that was true mattered not. Or at least most of it was true, she wasn’t quite sure if Christian was into her. Everyone said he was and there were some signs, like flirting and being touchy but he was like that with a few of his close friends. That alone couldn’t be the indicator for his feelings. If they were feelings at all. For all she knew she and everyone else were seeing the signs of lust and not romantic feelings that led to a monogamous relationship.

At least that’s what the voice in her head told her when she got up the courage to think he actually liked her and planned to act on it. The pesky ass voice couldn’t let her have nice things.

Despite her clear acknowledgement of the factualness of what he said she couldn’t let him have the last word. It just wasn’t a true testament to their friendship if she didn’t try to gain the upper hand.

“Well, at least I’m not using fuckboy antics to get out of telling the person I’m dating I love them. You can’t use that psycho bitch, who tried to kill me might I add, as an excuse for why you don’t say it forever, Yoon. Especially since you know Jamie isn’t like that. But you gotta take the plunge and talk to her before too much time has passed and she won’t want to listen anymore.”

There was a brief silence before a dramatic sigh left his lips. YN could imagine the look on his face as he did it too. A mix of sadness, resignation, and annoyance at the fact that she was right. They wouldn’t be such close friends if they both didn’t hate being proven wrong while also understanding the other enough to know when it was the right moment to push it.

“Okay,” he whispered.

“What was that?”

“Okay! You’re right. But you need to stop tiptoeing around the subject and just tell him already. He likes you, let him know you feel the same way,” he said.

That got YN to sigh with about as much feeling as Yoongi had. Her body felt tired as she thought of having to speak those words, but she realized she really needed to get it over with. Even if she threw up in the process, it had to happen.

“Okay,” she mumbled.

“Hm? What was that?” he mocked her.

“Okay, damn. I’ll do it. So annoying.”

Again, he laughed and it made her happy to hear him not so down like he’d been for days. Of course, the laughter could only help so much, but it was better than nothing.

Biting her lower lip her head turned so she looked at the studio door where the man who she was losing it over was. He waited for her to bring in snacks and she’d stopped part way to call Yoongi about something unrelated to the conversation they had. One that she was so lost in that she didn’t realize twenty minutes more than needed had gone by.

“Shit, I have to go. I should have been back already. I’ll call you later. Love you. Bye.” she said.

Yoongi laughed. “Love you too.”

With that she hung up the call and took a deep breath before walking towards the studio door. Her hand grasped the knob for a few seconds as she took a deep breath and thought over Yoongi’s words. Maybe the all-nighter they planned was the right place or maybe it was the worst possible place for her to do that since she’d still have work to do if he reacted negatively.

When she finally opened the door and stepped in she’d decided to just see what happened. There would be no forcing herself to say anything about it or actively stopping herself. For once she’d go with the flow, with a bit of hope that she’d randomly get the urge to blurt it out like she sometimes did.

Upon her entry Christian’s head whipped up to look at her. He stared her down as she kicked off her shoes and made her way to her seat. The expression on his face didn’t give way to his thoughts, but she assumed he was confused as to why it took her so long to get back.

“You get lost?” he asked, taking the bag from her.

“Nope. Just had a phone call.”

Christian paused for a second, his brow raised in question.

“Yoongi?”

YN didn’t stop what she was doing for many people, especially when it came to work related things needing to be done. But Yoongi was her oldest friend and she’d hop on a plane without a moment's notice if he needed her. That meant that usually people could guess who she’d been talking to easily.

“Yeah. He wanted to whine some,” she said.

Her attention moved to the computer in front of her, which still held the work she’d left off on. Christian had messed with something a little, but for the most part had seemed to be focused on what went on upon his own screen. Something about what he was doing reminded her of a thing she’d forgotten with the clip was editing and despite the hunger that plagued her she went straight into work. Of course, she felt Christian’s eyes on her the whole time and heard him chewing away at the snacks in the bag but her mind hyper focused so none of that matter.

About fifteen minutes passed before her hands stopped moving and Christian used that to pull her chair for the desk. Her immediate reaction was to tell him off, but he shoved half of a sandwich towards her mouth and she found herself biting it without a thought. That brought a smug expression to his face, but she merely rolled her eyes and snatched the sandwich.

There was some small protest from him, but it stopped as she took another bite of the sandwich. YN was so hungry that she hadn’t really chewed anything or tasted it for that matter. She’d had little to eat throughout the day because they’d needed some last-minute shots and that left her running here and there. Anything consumed was burned off within an hour or two. Which is why Christian had offered they go get dinner first, but she knew a heavy meal would make her focus on editing harder. Food made her sleepy most of the time.

“Slow down,” Christian said, his Australian accent thickening with the worry in his tone.

But his warning was too late because she’d shoved the last piece into her mouth and swallowed it. Her hand reached for the other in his hand, but he gently pushed it away and handed her an opened water instead. She glared at him but drank down the water; though with the way he stared at her she stopped herself from downing half of it in a few seconds. Sips were slow and small until she felt her throat less dry.

“Now can I have the other half?” she asked, her voice sickly sweet and a pout on her lips.

For a moment Christian just stared his eyes focused on something on her face. At first, she wondered if she’d gotten anything on it while eating, but then she watched him bite his lower lip and his eyes flicker up to her’s and then down again. She thought that he had to be looking at her lips and her heart did a thing, though her mind wasn’t sure if it was him wanting to kiss her or something being on them. In a moment of uncertainty, she wiped at the lip and came up with nothing, but that seemed to be enough to snap Christian out of whatever trance he’d been in.

Without a word he passed her the other half of the sandwich and then got busy unwrapping his own. Silence followed with a few words spoken here and there when one of them stared at either screen long enough to have a question rise up. It was a good little break from YN’s thoughts about what happened minutes before and also got her mind ready for what she was going to do for the next several hours. Dread filled her, but knew it wasn’t impossible by any means.

“Ready?” Christian asked after finishing off his tea.

YN nodded and just like that they got to work.

Christian was to focus on piecing together a visual that would encompass the entire comeback the Dabin planned, while YN was focused on getting through the main music video. There were some others she had to do, but they were all shorter and didn’t need some of the magic that the main one did. Part of her cursed the team for being so damn ambitious, but it kept her on her toes so she couldn’t complain. Well, wouldn’t complain until she felt the urge to pull out her hair because something wasn’t working.

But for once she went through her edits without any real roadblocks. She navigated the things that they’d talked about adding and her own ideas for things to flow seamlessly. There were a few snags here and there, but they were nothing that she couldn’t fix in a few minutes or that Christian couldn’t help her with.

They’d long learned to work together fluidly so all of it came easily.

A few hours in YN pulled her headphones off and pushed her chair away from the desk. Carefully, she stood up and stretched her body since it got a little stiff from sitting in one position for so long. Once she’d properly given them the movement they needed a yawn ripped free from her lips and she felt a wave of tiredness hit her. Of course, she wasn’t done by any means.

“I’m going to get something hot and something with caffeine from the kitchen, you want anything?” she asked.

Christian didn’t respond so she poked him hard and repeated herself, he shook his head no without ever glancing her way. She knew he’d complain later, but she didn’t have it in her to pester him, so she slipped on a pair of slides near the door and ventured out.

The kitchen in the building DPR was set up in wasn’t too far from Christian’s studio, in fact she walked back fifteen feet to get to it. Something she was thankful about because despite being in motion she felt her body grow more tired as each second passed. It’s why she was quick to grab an energy drink from the fridge and down that thing. It was followed by the consumption of red ginseng because it always helped her in some way. Or at least she placebo effected herself into that thought. After she moved to make herself some hot chocolate. Thankfully, they had a Keurig, so she didn’t have to worry about heating water herself. By the time it was done she’d gotten a few large marshmallows from her hidden stash and happily deposited on top of the hot, chocolatey liquid.

With her energy drinks consumed and her hot beverage ready she made her way back to the room. She took care not to spill any of the drink and sat it down on the small table that Christian kept over on her side. It was where she sat all her drinks or food out of fear that she would knock it over if it were on the desk with all the equipment.

The moment her butt hit the chair there was a frustrated grunt and Christian all but threw his headphones down. His right hand moved to card through his hair and his eyes closed as he let out a harsh breath.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as she moved closer.

There was no response, but she waited for him to get his bearings. Sometimes editing made you so annoyed that words failed to come together right away. There had been many instances where someone asked her questions and all they got in return was grunts or her starting a word only to scream halfway through.

A minute or two went by before he opened his eyes and spoke up.

“I just can’t get it to transition like I want. I’ve been trying different methods for the last hour and assumed I wanted to try out all the options, but they just fuckin’ suck. I don’t want it to suck. It needs to not suck.”

“I doubt it sucks, let me see,” she said as she moved even closer.

However, Christian was having none of it and knocked his chair into hers so she’d go back onto her side. He was stubborn as hell when in a mindset of defeat, so she had to be persistent. She knocked chairs with him a few more times before getting up. Before he could steady himself she pushed it back and it rolled almost to the door. Standing she leaned over and looked at what he had. Nothing sucked per se, but she could see what his issue was.

She got several clicks in before he protested again.

“I’ll just choose one and come back to it tomorrow or something. It’s fine, you have your own stuff to work on.”

“Shh.”

“Did you just shh me?” he asked incredulously.

Rolling her eyes she turned around to glare at him but froze up when she realized he was standing and doing it awfully close to her. His head was tilted down as he stared at her and with the way she’d held her head up high their faces where maybe an inch apart.

In an instant the atmosphere changed and YN did not know what to do. Part of her screamed to back away quickly and the other part of her wanted her to close the gap. The voices in her head were at war and then she noticed his eyes on her lips again and threw out all fear.

As she leaned closer Christian did too and soon enough their lips were pressed against each other. The initial kiss was chastise, something to test the waters, but once they got comfortable with it the intensity grew. Their heads tilted and their bodies pressed closer together. Soon enough YN’s fingers were threaded in his hair and his hands caressed her hips and ass.

With her lips on his all thoughts kind of left her, besides how soft they were and how she wished she’d kissed him sooner. And how she didn’t want to stop doing it.

Christian squeezed her ass a little too hard though and in retaliation she slowed the kiss and bit his lower lip. When he stilled she worried about if he didn’t like that, but then he released a sound akin to a growl. His lips were on hers again in seconds and she got so wrapped up in the kiss that she didn’t realize that he’d started lowering onto his chair and bringing her with him. She didn’t start to pay attention until he had her straddle one of his thighs.

He wasted no time with subtlety bouncing that thigh causing a bit of friction between her legs. It was bearable for a while but then he pressed a little hard and her lips parted as a gasp escaped them. Christian took that as a chance to slip his tongue into her mouth, swirling around hers. Though compliant with all his actions YN did try to gain control of the kiss, but all it took was another firm grazing of her crotch to have her moaning out. One bounce in particular had her pulling away from his lips.

But just because she stopped didn’t mean that Christian did, his lips went to kiss along her collarbone which was readily exposed in the off the shoulder top she wore. The feeling of them on her skin sent a shiver up her spine and inadvertently had her grinding down on his thigh, which only got her even more excited.

Her pleasure must have been apparent because once again Christian’s hands were on her hips. Unlike before though he used that leverage to move her along his thigh. With his lips still kissing across her shoulder and neck he moved her back and forth, ensuring he was pressing down enough that she could feel the friction despite her shorts.

The pace was slow at first, but it was enough to ensure that YN was growing wetter by the second. Her body felt on fire and it didn’t help when Christian began to suckle hickies onto her. She felt very stimulated and that’s what caused her to cry out in pleasure when he began to speed up the pace.

“Fuck,” she said.

“Oh, we’ll definitely get to that, but why don’t you take over and ride my thigh, baby? Get yourself worked up for me,” he whispered in her ear, slowly pulling away but not before biting gently on the lobe.

YN did not need to be told twice. Her hands moved to his shoulders and she sat firmly on his thigh before dragging herself back and forth. At first, she was frustrated because she couldn’t find the right amount of pressure to feel anything worthwhile, but before she could give up Christian started guiding her.

“Just like that. Yeah, you’re doing so good for me. Keep going and you can pick up the pace. Make yourself feel good,” he said.

There was no verbal response from YN besides the moans she released when the friction truly started up. Goosebumps covered her skin the more she got into, her body tingled and she wanted more. Craved more.

But the look in Christian’s eyes as he watched her get herself off was too good a sight. His eyes had darkened a bit and she could see the lust in them. It didn’t help that he was biting his lower lip as his eyes remained firmly on the thigh she was on. He was enjoying the show and she wanted to give him more, so she kept going and her pace quickened again.

Though her pace change was also out of desperation. She’d gotten worked up quickly and despite how good his thigh felt her orgasm felt out of reach. Getting closer to it was all she wanted, so she moved with a vigor that could get her there.

That didn’t fly with Christian though, his hands held her still.

“No, no. You are not cumming on my thigh. You’re doing that with me inside of you,” he said.

YN groaned. “Then get inside of me.”

That elicited a laugh from him and made YN finally look directly into his eyes. He appeared very amused by how she’d responded.

“I should have known you’d be just as bossy like this.”

Naturally, that ended with her lightly slapping his shoulder which brought on more laughter from him. She was ready to get off his lap after that but yet again he held her in place.

The thing was that unlike before the expression on his face was softer and less like that of a man who said she would only cum on his dick.

“I know this is ruining the moment, but before I bend you over this desk and fuck you until you can’t walk I want to be very clear with you. I want to be with you. This is not me just fucking you because I find you attractive as hell. Got it?” he said.

Though she wanted to roll her eyes at his delivery she couldn’t help but smile as happiness filled her. Hearing him say it made her night and she would stay like she was or cuddled up to him for the rest of the evening, but there was a persistent problem still between her legs.

She leaned forward and leaned towards his ear to whisper, “And I want to be with you, but we can discuss that later. For now you have a problem to fix and a lot to prove if you think you’re going to put me on bedrest tomorrow.”

It didn’t take long for him to get her off his lap. He barked orders about getting off her shorts and panties while he ran out of the room for a moment. By the time he returned she was undressed on her lower half and bent over on the desk. Her legs were spread slightly and it gave him the view of her glistening pussy, just like she wanted.

“Shit,” he mumbled.

YN tried to keep the laughter from escaping her at his reaction knowing he’d probably tease her if she did. There was no time for all that, she needed him inside her as soon as possible.

Once she heard the sound of pants unzipping and dropping she felt herself perk up. Her ass rose up a little more and that seemed to pull another groan from Christian who sounded like he was fumbling with something behind her. She was going to ask if he needed help but then she felt the head of his dick press against her slit and she moaned.

Slowly he moved it between the lips of her pussy causing her to push back wanting more. The feeling was so good, but she still needed him to go further. Thankfully, he didn’t keep her waiting for long. Before she could fully process it he’d pushed inside of her completely. There was some discomfort from the sudden intrusion–one that was the first of its kind in a year–but he didn’t move and she adjusted fast. The stretch still felt a bit odd, but not something she hated. In fact, she loved the feeling of being full of him.

“You can move,” she said.

He didn’t need to be told twice because in the next second he was moving at a moderate pace. His hips moved back and forth, while one hand on her back kept him balanced.

YN’s eyes fluttered closed as she focused on the feeling of him. She’d been worked up enough that she was more than prepared for him, but also enough that she was sensitive. It wasn’t the same level as if she’d orgasmed, but it was enough to have her feeling extra with every stroke.

After several thrusts at that speed Christian suddenly sped up out of nowhere. It was enough that her hips moved away from the desk and hit against it every time he slammed back into her. It was a little painful, but the feeling of his dick pushing into her and hitting just the right spot made up for it. Her moans had been soft before, but with each thrust she grew louder.

At some point she was almost screaming out because of the brutal pace, but that didn’t mean that he slowed down. In all honesty it felt like he went harder and she loved every second of it. Wanted him to never stop.

And because she was so focused on how he felt she didn’t notice the tightening in her stomach and the way she was close to the edge until she was over it. Her eyes opened wide as her orgasm crashed through her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she said.

Despite the clear indication that she’d come Christian didn’t stop. His pace slowed down some, but he kept pistoning into her. As she finished the last moment of her high the sensitivity set in, but she found herself building up again. Her pussy wanted a break, but she wanted him to keep going.

While she was ready to stay bent over for him until he came, Christian had other plans. Using his right arm he wrapped it around her torso and pulled her up so her back was against his chest. That hand moved down to rub her clit, something that had hips bucking because it felt like too much. She squirmed a lot, but then his left hand came around to wrap around her throat and she stilled.

“You’re going to give me another one, right?” he asked, though she knew it wasn’t up for discussion.

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Without another word spoken by either of them he kept her how she was and continued to thrust into her, but his intense pace from before returned. His hand continued to rub and pinch her clit, which caused her to vibrate in pleasure. Plus, his hand remained around her throat squeezing every so often and she loved it more than she cared to admit. So much that her next orgasm came a little quicker than the last.

There was a weird feeling in her stomach though, but she had no time to assess it before she came. Her pussy spasmed and then she felt an intense pressure before she felt her thigh grow wet.

She’d squirted all over his dick and herself.

“Fuck, definitely going to have to do that again some other time,” he murmured.

YN didn’t even have it in her to respond to him, she just relaxed against her body as he continued fucking her. It took a minute or two before his precision slipped and she heard him moan out. He didn’t stop until he finished cumming and then he just stood there, his chest rising and falling heavily against her.

Three minutes passed with them like that before YN said something.

“We can’t stand here all night. Also, I’m so tired from this and working, we gotta rap this up.”

Christian laughed, but pulled out. From there YN leaned against the desk trying to orient herself. In that time Christian had discarded the condom and pulled his pants back up. He helped her do the same, though he didn’t bother fixing her pants completely. H

Carefully he turned her around to face him and smiled at her clearly exhausted, but happy face.

“How about we take showers, get changed, and call it a night? If you want you can stay at mine and we can start first thing in the morning,” he said.

Not one second was wasted debating it, YN just nodded in agreement.

“If I can shower and sleep I’ll be happy.”

That made Christian smile wider and then he leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips. He moved away to lead the way out, but YN took one step before reaching out to grip his arm. Worry colored his expression and then when he noticed the way her legs seemed to shake a little a smirk made its way onto his face.

“What was that about me having to prove something?” he asked.

“Fuck you.”

#danicaday #kwritersworldnet #christian yu x reader #christian x reader #christian yu smut #christian yu fluff #dpr ian x reader #christian yu #dpr ian #yu barom #khh fanfic #krnb fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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