#Jami still RIPPED UP the dance floor in heels

[poisoned-pearls]

2nd year dance

(taken minutes before flo and rook got into a physical fight over their gfs being the queen of the dance)

[ruth-writes]

ruthswip Chapter 1

Overview

Next chapter

Chapter 1 of a rewrite of something I've been working on for a long time.

Content warnings: physical abuse (explicit scenes), homophobia

Jamie's POV

One-hundred and fifty-five days. That meant five months and two days. It had been almost half a year.

Half a year, which meant we were getting close to our first performance. Not that we were in any way ready. Lisa was supposed to be doing a step in front of me so we’d form a line facing the audience, but she kept stepping on my foot and tripping instead. If I had to hear the same few notes of This is Me one more time until she finally got it, I was rip my ears off.

Ms. Page looked as frustrated as I felt, but she knew how to handle it. She was exactly the kind of person who should be a teacher, never losing her patience or yelling at us. I wondered how she’d managed not to turn bitter like every other adult I knew. I considered asking her for tips, but it was probably too late for me anyway.

Lisa stepped on my little toe this time, the heel of her boot making me wince. “Sorry,” she apologized, as if that would make the throbbing pain magically disappear.

            I glanced at Holden, who was watching us from the front of the room. He should be practicing his solo, but there wasn’t much of a point when the backup dancers couldn’t even get far enough for his cue. At least it meant we could make faces at each other, like the one I gave him now. He answered with a small grin, making my insides squirm. Even more when people looked over their shoulders to follow his gaze. I quickly fixed my gaze back on the gym floor, blending into the background as best as I could.

            Ms. Page finally gave up on nobody tripping and told us to just try and get through the whole dance. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be, even though my feet were feeling very bruised by the end of it. I’d managed to do some improv to avoid the worst of the tripping, which Ms. Page praised me for while simultaneously scolding everyone else to practice more at home. Everyone grumbled their acknowledgement, and we were finally allowed to leave.

            Outside, Michael asked, “Who wants to go to Taco Bell?” Michael was a senior, and he had a car.

            A few people agreed, but Michael specifically looked in our direction. “Holden?”

            Holden looked at me, even though I wasn’t the one being asked. “I think I’m just gonna go home,” I told him.

            Holden turned to Michael. “Yeah, me too. I still have a lot of homework to do.”

            Micheal rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. You used to hang out all the time.” Everyone knew what Michael wasn’t saying out loud. If there was any doubt, the glare he was giving me cemented it. Holden used to hang out last year, before he met me.

            Holden noticed it, too, his usual carefree smile turning into a slight frown. “Well, things change, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned on his heel and stalked toward the bus, me hurrying to catch up with him.

            I hesitated when he threw himself on the seat at the very back, still glaring. “Are you mad at me?” I came out sounding a lot more like whine than I’d intended.

            His expression immediately softened as he hurried to make room for me on the bench. “No, of course not!” When I sat down, he pressed a kiss to my temple and added, “I could never be mad at you.”

            I relaxed into his arms.

-

            If I was any good at drawing, I’d be able to draw Holden’s room purely from memory by now. I’d rarely spent a single day anywhere else for the past five months, and most of my time was spent staring at the walls while he worked on his homework. I’d given up trying with mine a while ago. I knew there was no point, especially in the afternoon once my Adderall had worn off.

            Holden’s room was how I always imagined mine would be if I could decorate it the way I wanted to. There were two framed posters on the biggest wall, plants on the windowsill that he somehow managed to keep alive, and pieces of furniture he’d been allowed to pick out himself. Best of all was the wall of pictures over his desk. The pictures ranged from him as a baby ‘til now. Some were with friends, some with his family and some with me, and everyone was smiling in each one. I knew that even if I tried to create a wall like that, there wouldn’t be enough people who to cover it with.

            That was fine, though. I could entertain myself, like I did now by opening The Battle of the Labyrinth again. I was rereading the entire series while I waited for The House of Hades to come out, even though I knew it all by heart. If I had to recite that instead of state capitals in school, I’d have A’s all around. When I was little, I used to think my ADHD was proof I was a demigod. I kept waiting for the day I’d be whisked to Camp Half-Blood and meet my real family. Of course, I’d have found a way to convince Chiron to let Alex come, too. Even in my wildest fantasies, I’d never considered leaving him for a second.

            I jumped slightly when Holden sat down next to me suddenly, holding his laptop. He grimaced. “Oh God, sorry.”

            “It’s fine,” I assured him. “Are you done?”

            He nodded and we cuddled up next to each other, my head resting on his shoulder. Holden tried opening Netflix, but announced after a few moments, “The Wifi’s not working. One of us has to go and reset the router.”

            We looked at each other, having a tiny battle of who could do the best puppy-dog gaze.

            “I don’t want to get up,” he complained.

            “Well, neither do I,” I countered.

            “I reset it yesterday!” he protested.

            “Did you? I don’t remember.”

            “I’m pretty sure I did.”

            “I’m pretty sure you didn’t.”

            He shut his laptop. “I guess we’re not watching anything then.”

            That was a move I hadn’t been expecting. “Are you serious?” I pouted.

            “Hey, if it’s that important to you, you can go,” he pointed out.

            I thought about it. “Yeah, no.”

            He laughed, leaning in close. “I know something we can do that we don’t have to leave the bed for.”

            I smirked. “Yeah?”

            We started off slow, kissing each other gently, but then letting things get more heated. He hummed when I kissed down his neck. I loved giving him hickeys. I wished he could give them to me too, but they’d be much too visible. I smiled into my kissed when he slowly started inching his hand up my shirt, but then frowned when he paused. I stopped to see what he was looking at.

            “This one’s knew,” he commented, gently touching the fresh bruise on my chest.

            I winced and he immediately withdrew his hand. “Sorry,” he apologized.

            “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt that much, I barely even noticed it,” I lied.

            Alex would have known I was lying in a heartbeat, but Holden didn’t know me as well and looked slightly relieved. “Well, that’s good.” He pulled my shirt down again, covering the bruise. “What happened?”

            “Nothing, really,” I explained. “He was just awake longer than usual and ran into me when I was coming home.”

            I could tell Holden really didn’t like that answer. “Jamie, I think we should tell someone.”

            I rolled my eyes. We’d had this conversation before, and he knew my answer hadn’t changed. “No.”

            “Just one adult, Jamie,” he pleaded. “It can be anyone. If I told my parents, they’d know what to do.”

            I struggled to keep my voice level as I bluntly stated, “They won’t because there’s nothing anyone can do.”

            Holden just didn’t get it. “They could call the police,” he argued stubbornly.

            I wondered what it was like living with such wholehearted trust in the system. It must be nice. “If we call the police, he’ll put on a nice smile for them an beat me half to death when they’re gone.” I knew I was right, because that was exactly how it had happened when my second-grade teacher called them. Afterwards, the hospital had sent me right back home to him.

            A tear rolled down Holden’s cheek and he gave a sniffle, which pissed me off. He wasn’t the one who was in danger here. But he didn’t stop crying, and I guessed I felt a little bad, so I let him cry into my shirt. He was just worried and didn’t know any better. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to scare you,” I soothed him as I stroked his hair.

            He sniffed. “I’m scared somethings gonna happen to you.”

            “Well yeah, so am I,” I said a bit too bitterly, and immediately regretted it. But Holden never got mad at me, so he just hugged me even more tightly.

            “Jamie! Holden! Dinner’s ready!” We heard his dad call from downstairs. They’d started simply assuming that I was eating with them a while back.

            We went to wash our hands, spending an extra minute to wash away any evidence of Holden’s tears.

            “Will you boys set the table?” Matt asked us once we arrived downstairs. He was carrying a large steaming pot, so I carefully maneuvered around him to get to the silverware.

            We were having spaghetti. The homemade tomato sauce was a lot better than the cheap store-bought one Alex used to heat up in the microwave. I was pretty sure the strange chucks I was picking at were actual tomatoes. I tentatively poked a small one with my fork and forced myself to swallow it. I’d always hated eating in front of other people, especially when it wasn’t one of my safe foods. Having to pretend I wasn’t literally choking most things down was exhausting.

            “So, how was everyone’s day?” Anna asked like she did every day. I’d only been dealing with it for five months, I couldn’t understand how Holden had managed it his entire life.

            “It was fine, I guess,” Holden mumbled, trying to get out of the question as always. I’d come to realize it was their ritual, because Anna always managed to get all the details out of him in the end. There wasn’t a single aspect of his life Holden was allowed to keep private.

            “You guess?” Anna pried.

            Holden busied himself trying to roll the spaghetti onto his fork. He gave up on the polite way after a few tries and started rolling the fork in the air, which was pretty cute to watch.

            “Holden, don’t play with your food,” Anna said gently but firmly.

            He pouted. “I’m eating it!”

            Whenever he talked back to his parents, I prepared myself for someone to start screaming before I remembered that wasn’t gonna happen here. Instead, Matt made Holden watch while he showed him the correct way to roll spaghetti. “Jamie’s doing it,” he pointed out. “Maybe you should watch him.”

            I hated it when they did that. Pitted us against each other. Couldn’t he have just shown it to him and left it at that? Now, I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, and it was making my skin crawl.

            Thankfully, Anna remembered that it was still supposed to be Holden’s turn in the spotlight. “How’s your solo coming along?”

            Holden nodded with his mouth stuffed full of spaghetti, which Anna patiently waited for him to swallow. “We were mostly practicing the beginning of the routine today,” he finally explained.

            Anna frowned. “Still? Your performance is next week.”

            Holden snorted. “Yeah, and it’s gonna be a… bad show.” I knew he’d narrowly stopped himself from saying shitshow.

            Anna didn’t mention his hiccup. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

            She spent the next few minutes prying about how Ms. Page was handling it, how the moral was among the dancers (what did that even mean?) and figuring out exactly what Holden had ‘learned’ in school today. It was exhausting to watch, but I desperately wished it would go on forever, because once she was satisfied with him, she fixed her gaze on me.

“What about you, Jamie? What did you learn today?”

            This was always the most uncomfortable part, because Anna definitely thought I was being rude when I didn’t answer, but I truly didn’t have a single idea what my teachers had droned on about on any given day. I could barely remember my classes. After what felt like an eternity, Anna gave up on the subject, but she wasn’t completely done with me.

“How are your parents? Are they still working hard?” Anna thought the reason my parents were so nonexistent was because they were workaholics. She’d kind of come up with it on her own, and I’d never corrected her.

“Um, yeah,” I replied, picking at my food. Everyone else had already served themselves seconds, but my plate was still half full.

Anna and Matt shared a look that I didn’t understand, then Matt cleared his throat. “We were thinking of maybe inviting them over to dinner some time. You know, since you’re here so often, and we’ve never met them. They might want to know who their son is spending all of his time with.” He gave a light chuckle at the end.

Red alert. Red alert. Red alert, my brain blared. Had Matt’s gaze always been so piercing? Why was my fork suddenly so heavy? It slipped out of my hand and landed on the plate with a lout clatter, making everyone at the table jump. “Sorry!” I exclaimed, quickly picking it up again.

“It’s alright,” Matt said, even though he looked slightly frazzled. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so he looked to his wife for help.

She seemed as lost as him, but she didn’t let it stop her from trying something. “Jamie, honey, is everything… alright?”

My heart was pounding so intensely I could feel it in my fingertips. I set my fork down so I didn’t make the same mistake again and put on my best mask. “Yeah! Sorry, I was thinking of something else. I’ll ask my parents, but I honestly don’t think they’ll be free anytime soon. You've seen how much they work.”

My sudden change in attitude didn’t seem to convince Matt and Anna. I cursed myself for getting too comfortable and letting my mask slip.

“Okay, you do that,” Anna said. “But if you need anything, you can tell us, okay?”

No matter how annoying Anna was, my heart warmed at her genuineness. I almost felt guilty lying to her. Almost. It was a necessary means. I flashed her a brilliant smile. “Thanks, but really, everything’s fine.”

She gave me an uncertain smile back, then transferred the spotlight to Matt. He excelled in it, telling her every conversation he’d had that day almost word for word. Afterwards, he hung onto every sentence as she did the same for him.

Matt always drove me home after dinner. Usually he put on his favorite radio station that only played The Beatles, but today it was silent. Maybe he wanted to give me the room to tell him something. I liked Matt a lot more than I liked Anna. He never forced things out of you, so when we talked, it was always about things we both genuinely wanted to say. I imagined what would happen if I told him about my bruises. He’d freak out, but still manage to keep his cool. He’d wait for me to finish talking and then figure out what to do. He’d only want to call the cops, though, no matter what I said. So I kept my mouth shut.

We said our goodbyes, and I watched him drive off before walking home from the house I always told him was mine. It was only a block away from my actual front door. Taking off, my shoes, I unlocked the front door as slowly as I could before tiptoeing through and closing it a millimeter a second. Then came the stairs, which I inched along, making sure to avoid the creaky ones. If that even mattered with how loudly I could hear the blood rushing through my ears. After maybe ten minutes, I reached the top, where Alex’s bedroom door was waiting open for me. It was right next to mine, which had remained firmly shut since he’d left. I pulled myself under the covers that had stopped smelling like him a long time ago and fell into an uneasy sleep.

-

The next week went by in a blur. Ms. Page made us put in insane hours of extra practice, even managing to pull us out of class, and by the end of it we were actually kind of okay. Lisa wasn’t even stepping on me anymore, and Ms. Page seemed to be finding the joy in her job again.

Then it was an hour before the show, all the parents were trickling into the auditorium, and things were absolutely chaotic backstage. People were running around looking for their missing props, then crashing into others who were pacing out of nervousness. I found a quiet corner and watched. We were all in basic black outfits except for Holden, who had a white skintight shirt. It made him look pretty hot as he frantically tried to help Ms. Page keep everything in order. I saw him scan the room until his eyes fell on me. He tilted his head, silently asking if I was okay. I gave him a thumbs up, and he immediately went back to yelling orders.

Once we were under the blinding lights of the stage, adrenaline took over. I loved these moments, when I didn’t have to think and my body just did. It gave me a few precious moments of peace that were over way too soon, especially considering all the hours of sweat and tears we’d put into the routine. It was humbling realizing that we’d needed half a year to get a few minutes of simple steps right so that our parents could politely clap and forget about it the next day. The adrenaline was already mostly gone by the time Anna and Matt greeted us after the show.

“You did so well!” Anna squealed. “I’m so proud of you both.”

Matt agreed with her, and I let them hug me after they’d nearly suffocated Holden. At first it was awkward, but then I realized I didn’t want to let go. I might have been imagining it, but Matt did seem to let me hold onto him a little longer than normal before they both started fawning over Holden’s solo. I happily joined in, seeing as he had been incredible. He was all smiles, eating the attention up like the shining star he was. And he was my shining star.

I didn’t know what came over me. Maybe it was seeing him so happy, maybe Matt’s hug had given me a false sense of security. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek.

After that, everything seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. Holden blushed slightly, and Anna and Matt laughed. Anny got out her phone to take a picture of us, but then her eyes fixed on something behind us. I heard someone gasp and then a voice that never failed to make my blook run cold said, “What the fuck?”

The first hit slammed into my head before I had the time to react. People screamed. I stumbled, dots in front of my eyes, and Holden caught me.

“Get your hands off my son, you fucking fag!”

He was ripped away from me and I fell, Something slammed into my face, then my arm, then my ribs. I was pretty sure I heard a crack. More people were screaming now, some of them calling my name. I ignored them, choosing to curl into a ball and close my eyes. I accepted the beatings until finally, everything went black.

Overview

Next chapter

[literaryslapshot]

“I can’t wait for tonight” w jamie oleksiak if you write for him, idk if you do. If not then you can pick someone else!

this is dedicated to @bardownbitch ily <3 thank u for giving us the masterpiece that is, dbf jamie

contains: tons of dirty talk (18+ MINORS DNI), cuss words, fem reader, um, degrading kink,

this gif holy fuck

jamie could not wait any longer. the more he had to sit in the most uncomfortable chair in all of seattle, the harder he got, and the tighter his pants became. he hated going to these events; yes, they serve a good purpose and are for a good cause, but he didn't get why he had to show up. he didn't understand why he still couldn't just make a generous donation from his couch, and not this dimly lit ballroom while he watches his teammates, whom of which you are out of their league, flirt with you.

speaking of, he had to contain himself when he heard grubauer ask you dance. how dare he ask you, a taken woman, to dance. and jamie nearly flipped his lid when you said yes to the dance. so now, here he is, sitting in the hardest chair in seattle, watching you dance with another man. he made the mental note to himself to shoot a little harder at him tomorrow morning.

she doesn't even like this song, he thinks to himself as he watches you sway back and forth, laughing, grubauer's hands traveling a little too far south for his liking. that's when he stood up, taking matters into his own hands. striding across the dance floor, making people get out of the way for him instead of the opposite.

"mind if i step in?" as if he would say no. phillip gave you a smile and backed up, walking over to some other teammates to receive their betting money. they didn't think he would have the balls to do it, ask you, jamie's girl, to dance.

"what do you think you're doing?" he asked, pulling you flush against his chest, one large hand spread out on the small of your back as his other hand yours. you giggled, he always got so protective over you underneath the tiniest of circumstances. he had a strict rule, nobody touches or gets to his girl, and nobody tries to take her from him. sometimes you laughed at him and how protective he got, but sometimes you were thankful for it.

"oh come on, jame, i was just dancing. i really wanted to, plus i know that one: you're not a very good dancer and two: you don't even like to dance. it was innocent, nothing more." he hums, parting away to twirl you when the beat called for it, and pulling you back. this time, you could feel the arousal in his pants, and it made you blush.

"innocent, because that's what you are, huh?" he started. your eyes going wide for a second before he kept going. "sweet, innocent, little thing. you weren't so innocent a few nights ago, were you?" your cheeks go red at his words. the night plays back in your head, your mind replaying the filthy time you had with him.

"you remember, right? of course you do, you're still a little hoarse from taking my cock down your throat and screaming for me not to stop." he finds a way to pull you closer to his body, both of his hands on your back while your arms are looped around his neck.

your legs are beginning to feel like jello, much like they did a couple days ago. suddenly you regret wearing such tall heels, and wearing a dress that you know jamie can rip apart in just a few seconds flat. you feel hot, feel like the dress you have on is made of the thickest wool possible. all because of just a few sentences spewed from jamie's mouth.

"i bet you're so wet right now, honey. i'd love to feel you right now, but i'd also like to keep my job." you tense up, straighten your posture and avoid eye contact with him as you try to make it through this song so that he can take you home and follow through his words. "oh, you'd like that pretty girl, wouldn't you? bending you over in front of all these people, showing my team the only thing they dream about. they all wish they could have you, but you're mine."

a few more lyrics in and you feel like you're going to pass out. the more he says, you could probably have an orgasm right there where you're standing. "i can't wait for tonight, god, can't wait to be buried inside you all night. filling you up, not letting a drop spill out of you. can't wait to have your pretty thighs wrapped around my head first, though."

as soon as he finished his words the song had ended, and he couldn't drag you off of the dance floor faster. walking back to your table he helped you put your coat on, handing you your purse as you waited impatiently. "gone so soon?" tanev asked, approaching you both with a warm smile.

"yeah, you and i both know these things can get a little boring. plus, Y/N said she's not feeling well." jamie quickly responded, knowing that you were too light headed from being edged by his words for the past ten minutes on the dance floor to speak.

valet brought your car over and it didn't take long for Jamie to drive across town to your shared apartment, where he proceeded to take you apart in every way he knew how, certainly following through with his words.

blurb tags: @nylwnder @lorrmorr @owenpowerstapejob

[toomanyrobins]

a little birdie told me pt. 8

Summary: Y/N “Birdie” Parker left New York and her family three years ago in the middle of the night. Now, a call for help to her best friend brings her back into the fold of the Three Families and their “business”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Parker!Reader

Content warning: physical abuse, miscarriage, cursing, mentions of forced marriage, sex, mentions of alcohol and inebriation

Word Count: 2k

Notes: Thank you for the patience this part week! Hope that this part makes up for the wait! 💛 

Series masterlist // next part As the party reached its head, Y/N offered to take Jamie up to the room. She still didn’t love crowds and especially didn’t love so many strangers touching her. Steve had tried to convince her to stay, but when he saw the anxious look in her eyes, he nodded in understanding and thanked her for her help. A feeling of relief washed over her as the door clicked shut and she could kick off her heels. The first thing she did was put Jamie into his pajamas and change out of her dress. She dug around her bag for the nightie she packed, but there was a chill in the air so she grabbed one of Steve’s sweatshirts to put on top. Jamie was still wired from all of the excitement, so she decided to lay down on the couch in the sitting room and put on a movie. Y/N traced her fingers along his back, letting her mind wander to Steve. Eventually, Jamie started to settle and they both were dozing on the couch, the movie playing in the background. She was half asleep when the door of Steve’s hotel room banged open, making her jump. She immediately checked on the baby, but he continued to sleep like a log. She sat up slowly and looked at the men leaning against Steve for support, “Are you guys drunk?”

Bucky’s eyes were practically crossed, “No…”

“Really?” she quirked an eyebrow, “Then say the alphabet backwards.”

Bucky and Sam all shared a look. There was silence for a second and then the latter spoke, “What the hell is the last letter of the alphabet?”

Y/N laughed under her breath “Yeah, okay. Thank you, Sam, I think that answered my question.” She was trying not to show her amusement at the situation as Steve was holding the two men up. “Boys, go to my room and sleep it off. Steve, I’ll stay and help take care of Jamie for the night.” The blond nodded and walked into the bedroom.

Bucky sidled up beside her and kissed her forehead, “Thanks Birdie. You’re the best. I can see why the punk never shuts up about you.” Y/N’s cheeks grew warm.

“God, Barnes, you do not know how to keep a secret. Nearly revealing that Steve’s got a thing for Birdie. Get your shit together.” Sam slapped the brunet upside the head and the two men stumbled off to the adjoining room, leaving Y/N to absorb the information that was just drunkenly revealed to her.

She shook her head, that could be dealt with at a later date. Y/N put the sleeping Jamie into his crab and walked into the bedroom. Steve was starfished on the bed, his eyes shut. “You have got to shower. You smell like you’re wearing the entire contents of a keg.”

“Bucky spilled his beer on me. I’m so tired, sweetheart.”

She forced him off of the bed. “You can sleep after you shower.” He grumbled, but started undressing. She squeaked, turning around, and stayed that way until she heard the shower turn on. In an attempt to keep herself distracted, she went back out into the sitting room to check on Jamie and make sure the drunk duo wouldn’t bother him. Thankfully, all three of them were both already passed out. She snapped a quick photo and sent it to Becca to let her know that her fiance was safe and sound before going back into the bedroom.

When Steve came out of the bathroom, he found Y/N sitting on the bed. He was only wearing a towel and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. He leaned against the door, just admiring her. He traced up her legs to where his hoodie brushed her thighs. He had seen a peek of lace when she’d leaned over and knew saw was wearing something underneath. When his eyes finally met hers, she tilted her head, “You okay, Stevie?”

“Yeah, just thinking.”

“That’s a dangerous thing to be doing at 2 in the morning. What’s wrong?”

He weighed his options and the drinks he had had earlier boosted his confidence, “I should’ve kissed you when I noticed we had mistletoe above us earlier.”

Y/N squeaked, “What?”

“When we were dancing, we spun under mistletoe and I should’ve kissed you.”

“It is probably bad luck to ignore the Christmas Spirit.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Steve was across the room and kissing her. He peeled his sweatshirt off of her, Y/N threading her hands through his damp hair before it hit the floor. She pushed him gently so that he was sitting on the bed. One leg was thrown over so that she was straddling him, the towel the only thing between them. Y/N pulled back and looked down at him. His eyes were blown, looking at her like she was the only other person in the world. He flipped them over, towel falling off, so that she laying on the bed, her nightie bunching up to reveal that she was bare underneath. They both moaned as he touched her, feeling how wet she was for him, “Nothing underneath, sweetheart?”

“I haven’t been wearing any all night.” His eyes darkened at that and he tore the flimsy dress off of her, “Steve!”

“I’ll buy you a new one.” In a split second, he was back on her. His mouth traveled over her, leaving marks down her neck and chest. Her wrists were captured in one of his hands, leaving her completely exposed. Y/N keened underneath him as his teeth grazed over her nipple. She ground her hips up against him, looking for any friction she could get. His hand tangled into her hair and all she could focus on was how addictive he was. This moment had been a long time coming and neither ever wanted it to stop. Both were scared that this moment would end and inescapable awkwardness would settle in.

Heat grew from Y/N’s core, as Steve returned his attention to her neck. Her whole body was tingling, as she felt his muscular frame over hers and his arms trapping her in place. He was claiming her, sucking and biting marks all over her chest.  She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him close and rolled her hips against him. “Fuck, sweetheart. Touch me.” Y/N slid her hands down and ran her nails over his abdomen. She felt his abs contract underneath her fingers. She pulled her hand away as he bit a spot on her neck and she arched against him. Steve smiled down at her, “Good girl.” She sucked in a breath and he smirked knowingly at her. All rational thought was replaced with the need for the other to touch them. She felt the heat of his mouth against her and his rough hands on her thighs. Steve held her legs apart and knelt down. “Are you going to keep being a good girl for me, Birdie?”

“Yes,” she sobbed, “Please, just touch me.”

“I am touching you, sweetheart.”

“Dammit, Stevie. I’ll do anything, just make me cum.”

“Anything, huh? I’m going to have to remember that.” Y/N whimpered and he finally gave her what she needed. She tangled her hand on his hair, as the other gripped the pillow above her. Steve’s teasing fingers made her cry out, as he continued his assault on her clit. He felt her fluttering around him and couldn’t wait to be inside of her any longer, “Are you sure, Birdie?”

“God, stop teasing and fuck me.” He kissed Y/N once more, before filling her completely. He slammed into her, then pulling almost completely out before claiming her again. She had never felt so full before, back arching as she called out his name. Steve buried his head against her neck, the room filled with their moans. She spread her legs and held tightly to his shoulders, as he pounded into her. The change in angle meant he was hitting that perfect spot and Y/N felt herself getting close. She slipped her hand down to rub her clit and clenched around Steve, her toes curling. He thrust a few more times before burying himself inside her completely.

The room was silent, except for them trying to catch their breaths and their heart rates to slow. Once he was slightly more clear-headed, Steve rolled them over so that she was laying on his chest. Neither spoke as Y/N lazily traced over one of the tattoos on his chest, eventually lulling them both into sleep.

The next morning, Jamie’s crying woke the sleeping pair. Steve groaned and buried his head into the pillows. Y/N rolled out of his grip, “Go back to sleep, I got him.” She pulled on a pair of leggings from her bag and Steve’s sweatshirt off the floor. She ignored the soreness between her legs as she padded into the sitting room and picked Jamie up. She settled him down and called for room service.

She played with the baby until the breakfast arrived and sent Becca a text inviting her to join for breakfast in the room. Y/N was in her own little world thinking about Steve and their night.  Jamie had just started to have his bottle when a high-pitched shriek came from the adjoining room. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Bucky ripped the door open. “Sam, what the hell! I am not my sister!” Y/N choked on her laughter as the three men came out to stand in the living room, a mix of confusion and disgust on their faces.

When Steve had tumbled out, his hair was pointing in all directions and he had just a towel around him. Y/N could barely answer him when he asked what had happened because of how hard she was laughing, “Bucky is learning how Sam wakes his sister up in the morning apparently.”

“We never speak of this again!” The brunet pointed a threatening finger, “God, my head hurts!”

“I’m surprised you can stand up straight with how much you had to drink last night. I’ve got room service waiting for you if you’re hungry..”

“You are a goddess!” Sam exclaimed and rushed for the caffeine. Steve went to walk back into the room and get changed, when the dark-skinned man choked on his drink. “Well your back is telling me what you got up to last night, Rogers.” Raised red lines were all over his back where Y/N had clung to him the night before. He didn’t even try to look ashamed as he flashed them a grin and walked away. She, however, was embarrassed and Bucky took Jamie from her so that she could let Becca into the suite. He refused to meet his sister’s eyes and the others couldn’t stop giggling at the situation.

When they told the youngest Barnes what had happened, including the scratch marks on Steve’s back, she grinned, “Oh, so mommy and daddy finally got together.” Hearing herself referred to as Jamie’s mother made Y/N sick to her stomach. Suddenly, the realization of what last night could mean sent chills down her spine. Every uncertainty and fear from before she came home was flooding back and Y/N knew she had to get out of there.

“I just remembered that I need to go,” Y/N grabbed her bag and bolted out of the room.

Steve called after her, but she was in her own head. He whirled back around to look at his friends, “What the hell just happened?”

Y/N had rushed out and called an Uber back to her parent’s house. She snuck up to her room, hoping that everyone was still at the Ivory. Essentials were thrown into a duffle and stored in the back of her closet, nearly a carbon copy of what had happened 4 years earlier. That damned holiday party seemed to always lead to her running.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@founding-fuck-bois​

@animegirlgeeky​

@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters​

@directorsnarrative​

@marvelofwitch​

@hollandstanevans

[holylulusworld]

Go to your girl

Summary: Months ago, Steve and you parted ways. Now your sister Pepper invited you to her fiancées party. What happens when you bump into your ex?

Pairing: former Steve Rogers x Reader, Pepper Potts, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Dr. Cho

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, injured reader, comforting, fluff

Marvel Masterlist

“I don’t know if this was a good idea, Pep, you know I hate parties with so many people.” You whine glancing at the door parting you from the people inside.

“Y/N, it’s been months since you…” Pepper stops in her tracks, realizing what she was about to say. You sister always knows when you are about to cry and right now, you are close to tears. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault, Pep…I was never…I should leave.” You sniffle, glancing at your shoes, high heels. You hate this kind of shoes, always did. “I don’t know how you can walk in these shoes. I call them nightmares…”

“Y/N come on. Let’s have some fun. Dance a bit. Have a drink or two. Tony is waiting for us. He was talking about you and that you finally come around again for over a week. Sam is happy, Natasha too.”

“Pepper, I don’t know. I just don’t want to…” Pepper is taking your hand, squeezing it tightly. “I know, sis. Right now, it hurts he broke up with you but soon you will meet someone else, a nice man, okay. Maybe even tonight. How about Sam?”

“Sam has a girlfriend, Pep.”

“Too bad. He’s a nice guy. I would allow him to marry you.” Pepper states dragging you toward the room.

The doors open as Sam and Clint walk out to welcome you and Pepper. Now it’s too late to run away so you take a deep breath and hold tight onto your sisters’ hand while she walks toward Tony.

“Kiddo! Finally. We all missed you here.” Tony exclaims and you wish you could just disappear as the whole room stopped talking and is now glancing at you, Tony and your sister.

“Hey, Tony. I’ve missed you too.” You whisper rubbing your arm nervously. “How’s business?”

“Not as good as it was while you were working for me, Y/N.” Tony sighs. “Captain A messed up my business.”

“Tony!” Pepper warns. “We had an agreement. I’ll bring my sister and you won’t say a specific person’s name.”

“It’s fine, Pep. You’re right, it’s been months since he gave me the boot. I should move on. He for sure did.” You choke out seeing Steve entering the room with an arm candy by his side. The woman looks like a supermodel. Someone you could never compare with.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know Steve would bring someone with him.” Tony sighs seeing the hurting all over your face. “I would’ve said something for sure.”

“Save it, Tony,” Pepper mutters clenching her fists. “I should hit him hard. Maybe with a baseball bat?”

“You are watching the walking dead way too often.” You tease trying to change the subject. Still, your eyes drift toward Steve who tries to not look at you.

“We still can leave the party, sis.” Your sister's eyes meet yours as you wipe away a single tear.

“No. Just dance with Tony. I saw Nat and Wanda over there. I’m going to talk to them for a while.” Pepper watches you slowly walking toward your friends as Natasha squeals.

“Babe! Finally, the gang is back together.” Natasha chuckles and you smile at her. Natasha can see through your façade, she doesn’t need Wanda’s powers to see the heartbreak on your features.

“Hey…I’ve missed you too.” You whisper sliding into a seat next to Wanda. “How have you been?”

“Let’s see. Bruce finally admitted he likes me.” Natasha starts. “At the same time, he said we can’t be together…”

“That sucks.” You sigh cradling your face with your hands, glancing at the drinks the bartender placed in front of you and your friends.

“You are telling me. Why the heck is Rogers bringing an arm candy to this party knowing you would be here too?” Natasha mutters glaring at Steve.

“I’m not his girlfriend any longer. He made this very clear. I don’t want to talk about him…”

“Have seen someone?” Wanda asks already knowing your answer. “No…” You whisper looking away, ashamed you are still clinging to Steve and the memory of your relationship.

“Girl, you need to get laid.” Natasha mutters downing her drink. “How about Bucky? Perfect revenge. Fucking Steve’s best friend.”

“Nat, I don’t want to. I just need more time, is all. He can move on easily. Steve was the one not wanting us any longer.”

“I’m sorry, Babe. I was just babbling nonsense. Take your time to get over Captain Asshole…”

----

“So, Natasha tried to fill you up?” Pepper asks as you try to stand comfortably in your way too uncomfortable high heels. “She tried. Maybe I should leave…” Your eyes drift toward Steve who is glancing at you when you are not looking. Now he tries so hard to not look at you, not to admire the way your dress fits your curves.

“I’m sorry he brought this woman with him. Sorry for not warning you he will break your heart. I’m lucky your sister is not mad at me.” Tony sighs.

“Tony, I told you it’s not your fault months ago. I was not good enough for Steve, it’s my fault, not yours, Peppers or freaking Captain America’s, okay.” You grunt. “I’m out of this for good. I’m sorry but I just…”

Turning on your heels you grab your dress to lift it, running toward the exit.

----

Finally, outside you try to get out of the building as fast as possible. You don’t see the piece of glass on the stairs before your heels slip and you fall down the stairs, cursing.

Shaking and wincing in pain you try to get up and fail. Your ankle hurts. Glancing at your foot you can see it’s black and blue.

“Great, fucking great!” You curse trying to get your purse. It lies a bit further away and right now the pain is too overwhelming to move so you just sit on the cold floor, starting to cry.

“Y/N? God, what happened?” A deep voice rumbles rushing down the stairs to check on you. “Your foot looks like it’s broken. I’ll get help.” Steve says.

“Go back.” You mutter. “Go back to your girl and leave me alone. That’s your specialty. I don’t need or want your help. I rather feel the pain than letting you helping me. You’ve done enough.” You finally snap, cursing and yelling you blur all the things out you wanted to say to Steve when he broke up with you.

“Y/N, let me help you.” Steve tries but you stay adamant, shaking your head.

“Fuck you, Rogers! Why caring about my physical pain if my emotional didn’t matter? Huh? Or is it that. Do you like to see me broken? Does this turn you on? Get out of my eyes. I hate you…” Tears well up your eyes but you won’t cry. Not in front of Steve.

“I’ll get you help…”

“No. Go to your girl…”

----

Steve left and it feels like ages till you can reach your purse to get your phone. A sigh leaves your lips as you get it out only to see the display broken.

“Awesome…” You curse smashing the broken phone against the wall.

“Y/N, I’m back with Dr. Cho. It took longer to find her.” Steve pants dragging the doctor with him. “She’s in pain.”

“Whoa…pretty swollen and for sure broken.” Dr. Cho says looking at your foot. “I’ll get a stretcher.”

“No need for that,” Steve exclaims before he picks you up, carrying you toward the medical bay in bridal style.

“Let me down. I told you to go to your girl, Rogers.” You yell trying to get out of his tight grip. “Doll, I followed your order and went to my girl. Now let me carry you.”

“I’m not your girl!” You grunt punching his chest. “Let me go!”

“Pepper and Tony are on their way.” Dr. Cho says. “If you want to discuss anything with Ms. Potts you should do it right now.” She warns and Steve nods, swallowing hard.

“Baby…” Steve begins, and you glare at him, slapping his cheek. “Stop calling me like that, asshole.”

“No, swear words.” Steve retorts clearing his throat. “I broke up with you to set you free. I thought you want someone else.”

“Someone else? I got no clue what you are talking about, Rogers. Cause I wasn’t with someone else, unlike you.” Narrowing your eyes, you purse your lips.

“I saw you with this guy…” Steve mutters. “On your high-school reunion.”

“Jamie? You mean this guy not leaving my side even after I told him to get lost? I’m not into this smeary guy. I never even liked him during high school. He was only into dragging a girl into his bed.” You snarl slapping Steve’s cheek again.

“Ouch, that hurt.”

“Sure, Captain. I don’t think I’m capable of hurting you.”

“Y/N, you are the only one able to hurt me. I thought I have to let you go, have to give you the chance to get happy.” Steve’s eyes meet yours as he places you onto the hospital bed.

“Let me go? To do what? I got no clue what you are talking about Steve. I was happy with you. I loved you and I thought you love me too. Then out of the blue, you broke up with me. Ripped my heart out for nothing…” You sniffle not able to stop your body from shaking.

“I’m sorry. So sorry…Baby Girl. Please give me the chance to…”

“To what, Rogers?” Pepper mutters storming into the room. “Didn’t you do enough? For months my sister barely eats, sleep or even lives. What else can you want to do to her?”

“I’m sorry. This was all a misunderstanding…Please…” Steve tries but Pepper is in rage. Her anger is taking a toll on her, so she tries to attack Steve.

“Tony, bring Pepper out.” You whisper. “Calm her…”

“I won’t leave you alone with the man breaking your heart to run around with this brainless arm candy!” Pepper curses ready to attack Steve.

“Please…”

“Fine. He’s got five minutes then I’m coming for him. I know how to use Tony’s suit…” Pepper warns pointing at Steve.

----

“Done. Your foot will be as good as new in a few weeks.” Dr. Cho says as you glance at the cast around your ankle. “How shall I walk with this?” You ask.

“No need for that. I’m going to carry you around.” Steve exclaims picking you up once again. “Let me down, Rogers.”

“Now I know you don’t want this guy, I’m going to bring you to my room and never let you go. I’m sorry for jumping into conclusions without talking things out. I will never hurt you again. Except for you want me to…” Steve whispers the last part. “…in the bedroom.”

“Rogers! Hands off my sister!” Pepper threatens. “I mean it.”

“Pep…he’s sorry. I’ll explain everything tomorrow but now I’m too tired to fight, discuss or whatever. I’ll just want to sleep and he refuses to let me go.”

“Let…what the fuck!” Pepper mutters following Steve carrying you toward his room. “You can’t just take my sister with you.”

“UH, I can…” Steve retorts. “I’m going to make it up to her, you and Tony but right now my girl needs a rest. She fell down the stairs thanks to your stupid high heels. I will not allow her to wear this crap ever again. Now I’m going to bring my girl home.”

“You…!”

“Pepper let them talk things out. Let’s head home…” Tony tries, grabbing your sisters hand.

“But…”

----

“That’s it. You are clean, comfortable and tugged into my bed. Now I’m going to get you a glass of water and a midnight snack.” Steve says opening his nightstand to show you different sweets. “I bought these for you…uh…what do you want?”

“An explanation why you are such an idiot.” You curse and Steve sighs, nodding. “I’m sorry but before I was Captain America I was used to girls overlooking me. I was used to watching the girl I like walking away with someone else. Sometimes I still feel like this thin, weak guy not getting the girl he loves.”

“Did you look in the mirror lately? Hell, Steve, you are freaking sexy. But you are more than just a pretty face and muscles…freaking lots of muscles.” You trail of ogling Steve.

“I know, Baby Girl. You wanted to know the reason. This is the reason.”

“You are giving me a headache, Steven Grant Rogers, I love you, stupid idiot. Now let me sleep. My foot hurts, just like my head.” You mutter snuggling into his pillow.

“Will you ever forgive me?” Steve asks and you glance at him as he lies next to you. “Well…at least you went to your girl.”

“Yeah. I did…”

“Go to your girl, Rogers…”

“I’ll always go to you, Y/N…”

All works Tags

@yolobloggers, @meganywinchester​, @shikshinkwon​, @miraclesoflove ​, @mogaruke, @shatteredabby

Marvel Tags

@stuckys-whore, @notyourtypicalrose, @voltage-my2dlove, @thedoctorscamanion , @officialmarvelwhore, @randomgirlkensy, @juniorhuntersam, @lumar014, @doctorswife221b, @badboysdoitbetter2​, @sister-winchesters99

Steve Rogers/Chris Evans Tags

@hhiggs​​, @roonyxx​, @stylesismyhubs​

[dopescotlandwarrior]

The Dancer-Chapter Three

                                A special thanks to @statell​ for all the help

Previous chapters on AO3 

Chapter Three

The day after Hogmanay, the world looked completely new and different to Jamie. It always did because of his mother telling him about the new year, fresh beginnings and a casting off of mistakes and baggage from the year before. Gather yer blessins to take into the new year and forget the rest, she would say.

Jamie spent time hiking the hills where ever the snow would allow. He needed to be alone in the uncomplicated outdoors so his twisted mind could unravel, set goals for the new year, and dream about a lovely future. His mother’s voice was heard again telling him to have a picture in his mind of where he wanted to be in a year. “Make a braw picture in your in mind so yer feet will know which way to go, Jamie boy.”

By this time next year… Hmm Reunite with his childhood friends and celebrate Hogmanay together. He would see the finished barn he promised Jenny he would build for her, three years ago. Hiking and climbing once a week to build his strength and overall health. He would pay it forward in Edinburgh, he and Claire, with reading programs, book clubs and free classes for computers and creative writing.

He would have to open another store this year but this time he would find a way to pull any local bookseller into his project rather than leave them to mourn.

He would keep his workweek to forty hours, well fifty at most, when the new project was underway.

Jamie was smiling as he saw Lallybroch in the distance. He felt better and he had a plan. Throughout his hike and planning the coming year, the veiled girl beckoned him. Get outa my head temptress, ye mean nothin to me, he thought.

Claire had danced at many celebrations during the holidays and it was time to treat herself with some new clothes. She would not feel buyer’s remorse because the bank account would hardly notice the loss of Benjamins. Still, she called in reinforcement to prevent her from bolting at the first price tag.

“Geillis, I am walking into Epitome right now and if you don’t hurry, I promise to buy every beige garment I see.”

“Impossible Claire because I’m already here with a full dressin room waiitin for ye. Look up for Christ’s sake before ye crash into the makeup counter.”

When Claire looked up, there was Geillis pointing to a dressing room. Claire was surprised by all the color in the garments and she balked saying she wouldn’t feel comfortable wearing any of it.

Geillis held a beautiful royal blue sweater out for her. “Ye wear leggings underneath and boots that fit yer calf or ankle boots with a heel for date night. Jesus Claire, dinna roll eyes at me, ye need to consider going out with a man when one of them asks ye.”

“They only ask when I dance, and the shock of seeing the real me will have them running for the hills I’m afraid.”

“So we lessen the chasm between ye and the other ye and it starts with color and beautiful clothes. Dinna forget I’m with ye enough to know ye made a small fortune over the holiday. I think Omar is jealous, God knows I am. What about this one?”

For the rest of the afternoon, the girls ran from one shop to another as Claire’s back seat filled with her brave purchases. Sweaters, leggings, scarfs, boots, tops, jeans, a tailored coat and soft comfortable dresses for curling up on a couch or chair for a book club meeting. Claire was feeling braver and laughing more, until Geillis put the fear of God into her heart by stopping at a salon. It was the best in Edinburgh, so she marched inside to make Claire an appointment.

The man behind the counter was model gorgeous with jet black hair and crystal blue eyes. His wide mouth was adorned with a trimmed mustache that made his white teeth sparkle. Geillis started at the top of his perfect head and devoured bite-size pieces hoping he was tall and hung like a horse.

Claire raced in after Geillis to stop her and witnessed her friend morph into a purring, circling, huntress. His name was Joseph and he had a cancellation and could take Claire right now. Claire rapidly shook her head no, but Geillis forgot how to hear as she pulled her reluctant friend to follow Joseph. He led the ladies into his own private room and barely heard a word from Claire before he started cutting. Claire looked from Geillis to the stylist and figured neither one would be communicating with her now, so she closed her mouth and her eyes. She could hear some lady in the main salon complaining bitterly that she had been on Joseph’s waiting list for a year and this was just not fair!

Claire hated her hair since she was old enough to have an opinion. It was frizzy-curly that she tamed with loads of hairpins and detangler. It was like a curse on her feminity because she never could style it, wear it down or in a ponytail. On her rare trips to the bedroom for sex she would emerge looking quite like Einstein with a red face. He could shave it off for all she cared. It was why she loved wearing wigs so much.

Joseph was wrapping Claire’s hair in large plastic rods, allowing Geillis to flirt and toss her hair like some crazy person. Claire peaked up at the two of them and noticed Joseph was caught in her web, like a hooked fish that Claire hoped knew how to cut hair. The eyes closed and her mind practiced her new routines until she felt Joseph take her hand.

The amount of hair on the floor was staggering and Claire’s hand instantly reached for her head but only touched the plastic rods. She was seated and then laid back with her neck locked into a U shaped cut out in the ceramic sink. It was like a torture device sculpted for maximum pain that was quickly getting worse. She looked up and saw both faces above her, but they were talking to each other and didn’t seem to notice her. It can’t get any worse she thought until freezing water gushed out of a hand-held sprayer that soaked her face dripping into her sweater.

The big rods were removed, one more soaking and a towel dropped on her face as Geillis pulled Joseph into a corner to play with his hair. Claire held the towel to her dripping hair and sat down in the stylist’s chair that was unfortunately turned away from the mirror. Claire twisted her head trying to see what had become of her hair until she was jolted back by Joseph man-handling the towel and squeezing the water out of her hair. Claire glared at Geillis.

Next, a loud blow dryer was following chunks of her hair wound around a brush as Joseph’s expert hands pulled and twisted sections of hair while staring at Geillis. It wasn’t intolerable. The warm air was chasing away the cold from her wet sweater. A rather large razor edge was pulled down taught sections of hair around her face and her large eyes watched it twist and turn an inch from her skin. The blow dryer once again and then the cape was pulled off her with flourish. Claire felt the chair drop slowly as Joseph turned her toward the mirror.

Claire stared at her reflection with wide eyes that looked bigger and her lips looked more prominent. She pulled herself out of the chair and leaned toward the mirror where she looked at her features an inch from the glass. Her eyes gorged on her amazing hair for five minutes. Where did all this bouncy, straight hair come from, she wondered. Her bangs were cut very long and angled to sweep across her face covering one eye. Holy fucking Christmas, she thought, this was a mad miracle and she was desperate to find out how to style it like this.

“Joseph! I lov…” They were kissing and Joseph held her coat out to her. Guess that’s my cue to leave, she thought. Good thing Geillis had her own car. Claire tossed a folded hundred-dollar bill on the front desk and told the person it was for Joseph. Paid in full or just the first installment, Claire didn’t give a rip. For now, anyway, the cursed hair looked as good as the bouncing bobs that shined on the magazine covers. She raced home to stare at herself and try everything on, twice.

Toppled boxes and bags were strewn across Claire’s studio floor. She had pulled her makeup organizer out and was sitting on the floor in full light an inch from the mirror. Every ten minutes or so she ran to the bathroom to wash her face and start over. The laptop glowed next to her and she typed Eva Mendes into Google and looked closely at her favorite eyes in Hollywood. She was determined to learn, and scrubbed her face three more times, blinking back stinging tears to answer her ringing cell phone.

“Claire, my dahling, a pipe ruptured in the kitchen and the restaurant is closed until next week. Three days they tell me so go visit relatives and rest, aibnatu.” Claire smiled at the Arabic daughter reference and jumped back in front of the mirror. She carefully plucked at her eyebrows using Eva Mendes as a reference again. She went painstakingly slow to avoid a catastrophic patch pulled out by accident. An hour later she moved her eyeballs from one brow to the other, happy with the arc.

Claire was nervous about wearing her new clothes and hair in public. She still felt like she was playing dress-up and did not want to embarrass herself. Geillis was still not answering her cell and Claire was getting bored. She pulled her new coat on and looked at all sides in the mirror. What’s the worse that can happen? Somebody points at my ridiculous clothes behind my back? No biggie. She reached for her purse and left.

Jamie would be long gone at this hour, so she decided to check out the bookstore in his absence and take a look at the side rooms used for kid stories and adult book club meetings. It was a perfect place to find her confidence. Brightly lit, she would know if people were laughing at her. She parked and exhaled a billowing cloud of steam in the twenty-degree interior of her car.

There were two large carousel doors in the front of the store and stepping into one she looked up at a man on the other side of the glass pushing his way outside and staring at her. Claire looked at the floor convinced the man had dropped something. Looking up she realized she missed her opportunity to exit into the store and had to go around again. I am sure no one saw that she decided.

The store was gigantic, and Claire felt her heart race as she read the section names placed high on the shelves to lead people to what they sought. Claire knew where Jamie’s office was from the one time she was here and made sure it was dark before venturing in. She was free to explore the store unnoticed and felt a rush of excitement to see as much as possible.

Jamie pretended to eat as he pushed the peas and carrots around his plate making small talk with Jenny and his best friend Ian. He was lost in his daydreams of spinning veils and exotic eyes, hoping Jenny would not ask him about it. Strangely, Jenny and Ian were getting on like two peas in a pod and hardly noticed him. Once supper was cleaned up, he slipped away and headed for the restaurant and the dancer who would not leave his head.

The closer he got the faster he drove until he looked up at a dark building and empty parking lot. He circled around and read the note about the closure due to plumbing. Christ, he would surely implode waiting until next week to see her. He rolled out of the parking lot heading for the bookstore. Dropping in on the night manager and his staff could pay dividends in future months. Maybe the night wasn’t a total bomb after all.

Once inside the store Jamie kept close to the shelves where he could observe the staff, happy and helpful, going from music to video games and back to books, assisting customers. It made him content to see such productive employees looking for people to help. He continued to stroll through the store, watching for problems, or lazy staff running out the clock. He watched his newest hire helping a petite brunette in the classics section. She moved away and Jamie continued his lazy spying as he walked through the store. He smiled thinking he should get back to Ian before Jenny chewed his ears off with her continuous conversation. He walked along the row of rooms and offices noticing the brunette sitting inside a room with comfortable couches and chairs. The walls were glass so he could watch her as he walked. He felt something vaguely familiar about her but realized her glorious ass and legs would have been cataloged in his head, like every other pretty girl in Edinburgh.

Jamie leaned against the door to open it enough to speak to her.

“Excuse me, lass. This room is dedicated to the book clubs. There are couches scattered throughout the store if ye like to read a bit.”

“Book clubs, that sounds interesting. Who leads the club if I might ask?”

“Claire Beauchamp is in charge of our community programs.”

“Is she any good?”

“Oh yea, quite good.”

Jamie was trying to back out of a conversation he never wanted in the first place. When long legs were uncurled from under the woman, he was momentarily halted so he could watch skin tight jeans and boots. He could be running down the street with his hair on fire, but he would stop to watch gorgeous legs swing out of a car. Being temporarily diverted by the anatomy of the opposite sex was part of being a man he always thought.

“I am very close to Claire Beauchamp actually.”

The woman passed through the door under Jamie’s arm and then turned to look at him in the light of the store. Jamie stared at her momentarily confused.

“It’s me, Mister Fraser, Claire Beauchamp,” she said smiling. “I didn’t have to work tonight and got bored, so I came by to see the rest of the store. I hope you don’t mind.”

“What have ye done to yerself?”

“Oh, I…I…” Claire’s hand reached up and touched her shoulder-length hair and looked nervously for an escape.”

Oh my God lass, he thought, I meant that in a good way. Ye have eyes, he thought, surely ye can see what’s right in front of your face.

He slowed himself down and looked at her like he was appraising a beautiful work of art for sale.

“Ye know Sassenach, I’ve seen my share of makeovers, but none like this. He circled around her showing his appreciation. Claire’s cheeks blushed at his scrutiny, her confidence soared and she giggled at his exaggerated gawking.”

“It was nice to see you, Mister Fraser, I have to get home, goodnight.”

“Ah, two things Sassenach, how do I contact ye? For the community programs, I mean.”

Claire pulled the phone from his hand and punched in her number hearing the muffled ring in her purse. She looked up at him, “and the other thing?”

Jamie was still staring at her trying to see all the changes. “Wednesday.”

“Wednesday?”

“Aye, C’mon, I’ll walk ye to yer car.”

They walked together to the other side of the store. Jamie waved at a few people but otherwise looked at Claire. There was something unsettling about the changes in her. It was making him feel weird, happy, confused and sad all at the same time. Aside from her momentary anxiety when he said something stupid, she was like a new woman and reminded him of someone, but who?

Jamie failed to rally his senses before she dropped into her car. He turned to walk back to the store and looked when she called his name.

“What is happening on Wednesday?”

“Ye, here, and a bunch of wee ones, aye?”

“I will see you then Mister Fraser.”

A fortuitous meeting he thought, looking at her number on his phone. I’ll get the reading programs up and running before I leave for Glasgow.

Jamie did not spend much time at a new store. Once it was opened and running smoothly, he was off to build another one.

A new store was a complex project that easily lost money from delays, inept contractors, expensive labor, and a million other factors. Jamie had commercial construction experience and hired on, nine years ago, as an assistant project manager. The job took him to cities all over Europe and America. He was home for holidays and vacations, otherwise, he was gone.

Halfway through his first year as assistant project manager, he received a formal invitation to a meeting of the full board the following month. The next day he received a phone call from the secretary of one of the members and later a large envelope was hand-delivered to him with plane tickets and a cashier’s check for one thousand dollars.

Jamie walked off the plane after landing in Germany and felt a small hand attached to an arm that linked through his. A pretty woman in business attire pulled him into a limo and handed him an apple martini while giving instructions to the driver in German. The woman sat close beside him and peeled off her jacket as Jamie gorged himself on her jutting chest and fat red lips. She dragged him through men’s clothing stores where a lucky few could afford to shop until his interview suit was complete.

The woman watched him get in and out of his clothes at least a dozen times during the afternoon and when it was clear they were done she looked at her watch and then pushed him into a seat in the dressing room while pulling her blouse off. She was completely naked bouncing on Jamie’s lap and all he could do is hang on. His twenty years on earth had not prepared him for this thrilling experience, nor had the many dropped panties delivered him to the promised land quite like she did.

One month later, haircut and manicured hands, wearing a tailored suit and shiny shoes, Jamie met the members of the board for the first time. They had vetted Jamie so thoroughly they knew his test results in Chemistry from his sophomore year in high school. Millions of dollars would be gambled on his ability in the next ten years and the board gave him no quarter as they questioned his course of action in one impossible scenario after another.

After three hours they all broke for lunch and vaporized except for one man. Clearly the youngest of the board members, he poured the world’s best whisky into a cut crystal glass and handed it to Jamie.

“You are doing remarkably well Mister Fraser. You can relax because you’re already hired. Now comes the negotiation for salary and benefits. I cannot be seen coaching you so listen carefully, “tell them you want ten years as project manager followed by first right of refusal for every position that opens in the next grade up, forever. It will guarantee a life of promotions until you get dizzy from a fear of heights.” He poured Jamie another shot of the whisky he would remember for the rest of his life.

“Good luck friend.” In seconds, Jamie was alone feeling his bravery assert itself. What the hell, he thought, friend or foe, he had a good feeling about the man. Jamie drained his glass and when the board reconvened, he gambled his career on the advice of a total stranger.

Steal gray eyes regarded Jamie under thick white eyebrows. Thin lips pressed together in a straight line across his deeply lined face. You could hear a pin drop in that room and Jamie wondered if the members could hear his ramming heart. He remembered his boss working seventy or more hours per week, missing the birth and growth of his kids, saying he had to make money while the opportunity lasted. Complaining his six-figure income would end after ten years and he would settle into managing whatever store they gave him, at a lower salary, for the rest of his career.

When they offered the same package to Jamie, he stood at the end of the conference table with all eyes waiting for him to pledge his extraordinary life to corporate slave labor. He dropped his head for a minute of quiet before he threw the dice.

“My mother taught me to always know where I want to be, so my feet know which way to go.” He looked up at the man on the other end of the table. “I have a braw picture of my life before my dyin day,” he gave them a half-smile, “and I willna get there with yer offer. I’m sorry gentlemen, I respectfully decline.”

Jamie sat down, shaking from his feet to the crown of his head, silently invoking the love of his parents and the power of Lallybroch to carry him through the rest of the meeting.

The white eyebrows asked Jamie to step out just as the door opened and the sexy secretary found his eyes, smiling her intent. She led him to a hallway and pushed him into a couch, then turned her attention to a flask and a shot glass pulled out of her briefcase. Jamie was so tired. He stared at the shot glass anticipating the lovely feeling it would bring. The woman handed it to him and told him to toss it back. He did.

The phone in the woman’s purse vibrated and she stood, bending over to press her tongue into Jamie’s mouth as she kissed him.

“Good luck” she whispered into his ear and disappeared around the corner seconds before the conference room door opened.

Eight board members filed past Jamie, smiling and shaking his hand. White eyebrows was the last in line and told Jamie to expect an offer in the next two days. It would be hand-delivered and it would rock his world.

He was feeling better, almost like superman as he walked to the exit of the building. Hearing his name, he turned around as the young board member caught up to him.

“Last bit of advice Jamie. In eleven years you will wonder what gift to send me as thanks for how I helped you today.” He pressed the bottle of whiskey into his hand. “I want a case of this.” He smiled with his perfect teeth, “It’s my favorite.”

Jamie watched Claire drive out of the parking lot and returned to the store. Jumping stairs two at a time to his office he left the lights off and drifted to sleep on his couch. Sometime in the dead of night, when unanswered questions are brought to the light, Jamie dreamed.

The dancer was twirling across the room straight toward him. He watched her like a statue, made of concrete and powerless to move. She stopped spinning six inches from him. She spoke rapid Arabic and he could only watch her mouth until she said “Jamie.”

His eyes snapped to her eyes. She spoke to him! Finally! She was pointing to something and his eyes followed the line she pointed to. He saw, in the distance, the room in his store where he found Claire. She sat on the floor with wee ones sitting all around her as she read to them.

The dancer was pointing furiously at Claire, ”love her,” said in her broken English.

Jamie looked back to the dancer. There was love in his eyes, he could feel it. “I love you, I must be with you.”

The dancer took Jamie’s hand and led him across the floor approaching the dressing room. Before she entered the room, she turned around and Jamie saw she was sobbing and then she looked at Claire.

“Please.” Said through her tears. Jamie felt his mind snap having her so close to him. He looked around at the empty restaurant. They were alone and he would have his way with her.

“Jesus!” Jamie yelled in his sleep and his eyes flew open. “Ah diah!” His office was pitch black and the store was empty. He felt the huge erection that pulsed between his legs, his balls were pulled up tight to his body and stung like they were being poked by a live wire. He was literally seconds from ejaculation. All he had to do is close his eyes and see her kneel in front of him and his pain would turn to pleasure. Jamie was panting and conflicted, crazy angry at letting himself go back to her, even in his head.

“Leave me alone ye cunt!” He was seething mad just wanting a way out of this nightmare. “I dinna bide with rape but if it would rid yer presence in my head, I would break yer bones with my brutality.”

Jamie grabbed his coat and ran for his car feeling completely out of control. The speedometer pushed into the criminal zone as he sped through Edinburgh. Where is a cop when ye need one, he wondered? He had to be punished for thinking he could harm another person, especially a woman. A night in jail would be helpful, jar him back to reality before his well-constructed life crumbled around him. He raked a hand through his hair then gripped the steering wheel, hating the shaking that vibrated his fingers like he was as weak as a bairn.

Jenny couldn’t see him this way, just in case she was awake, so he drove the back roads until his tank was almost empty.

Being unsuccessful at getting arrested and nearly running his gas tank dry, Jamie turned into the Lallybroch driveway and sat in the quiet of his truck. Dawn was breaking across the fields and he saw himself running through the corn stalks as a lad with a single concern to get home before he was late for supper. He desperately wished he could go back in time, before his mistakes, and try again to be the man his parents raised.

He took a deep breath and walked to the front door noticing Ian’s car was still where he left it. Jamie wondered if he was sacked out on the couch and felt the sting of guilt for leaving like he did. Setting the alarm for two hours he dropped into bed. Sleep came quickly as she wrapped her cadaverous long fingers around his defenseless brain.

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

Tangled Love

Master List

~~

“Once again, the red string is here, faded but still somehow vibrant. Paris, the city of love, and yet here I am, heartbroken once more. I can stare at the Eiffel Tower, eat a delicious meal, and talk in a beautiful language with beautiful people and yet my heart is heavy.” Yixing sighed as he read the blog post. “Somehow I continue to remain only a few steps behind them. While here in Paris, I met a couple, young, and had only recently found each other. They too have the red string. Somehow, while having one of the rarest forms of soulmate connections, I have met so many others that have the same, and yet none of them are tied to me.” He frowned at the laptop he was reading on. He had begun to follow this travel blog when he found out they had the same soulmate connection as him, a red string tied around their pinkies that would leave a trail where ever they went. Only the person tied to the other end of the string could see the trail, and it would only remain in place for a few days. His heart beat a fraction faster when he imagined that the blog writer was on the other side of his string. He had only left Paris a few days ago, possibly the same time the writer had arrived, but now he was in America, always just out of reach. “I have been to Paris before, during the winter a few years ago, but the summer here is beautiful. I have found that there is nothing more calming than watching the sunset from the tower, or looking out your hotel window and seeing all the lights across the water. Paris, my city, my love, I shall return soon, perhaps, with someone who can show me why you are known as the city of love.” He smiled at the end of the post, scrolling down to the comments. Most were apologies about the soulmate situation, some were her friends asking if she had brought them gifts, a few were Parisians asking if she had tried certain things or gone certain places, but the most recent caught his attention. 

Posted by: GrantH112:

“When are you coming back to Seattle?”

1 Reply: by TravellingSMFinder:

“Tomorrow, my dad wants me to spend my birthday with him.”

His heart leaped, they would both be in Seattle at the same time. Maybe this time, they would run into each other.

~~

As you stepped off the plane, you immediately put your sunglasses on. Even if you hadn't become famous from your blog, your media king father and hotel entrepreneur mother had given you your own fair share of fame. Your phone began ringing seconds after you stepped into the airport.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, this is Secretary Howard.” You rolled your eyes at the formalities.

“Hello, Grant. How are you today?” You strode forward, shouldering your backpack as your personal assistant Jamie scurried forward to get your luggage.

“I’m alright, how are you?”   

“I'm doing wonderful, how's my father?” Your attention was caught by a glimmer of red, dancing across the ground. The secretary's voice was drowned out, as you crouched down, fingers ghosting over the vibrant trail in front of you. It was brighter than you'd ever seen, crimson and glowing in a steady rhythm of your soulmate's heartbeat.

“Are you even listening to me, Y/n?”

“I'm sorry?” You stood, ripping your gaze from the red string. Grant laughed, which made your cheeks heat up.

“What has you so distracted?”

“The string.” You shrugged, accepting your suitcase as Jamie returned.

“Ah,” You could practically see Grant nodding. “As I was saying. Your dad's excited to see you. I'm waiting in front of the airport.”

“Of course you are, we'll be there in a few minutes.” You hung up, tucking your phone into your back pocket and walking quickly towards the entrance.

“Your mom's not too happy you cut your stay at the Paris hotel short.” Jamie explained, reading off her tablet, as you arrived outside. You spotted Grant waving to you from the car and a smile fell across your face.

“So book me a few nights at her spa here. And send her a thing of lilies, as an apology.” You ordered.

“Of course.”

“Y/n!” Grant cheered. “Where to first?”

“Home, then to my dad's office.”

~~

Going home was relieving, even if it was only for a few moments. Your house was nothing to be ashamed of, you had designed it yourself. Everything from the dark wood floors, to the stones on the mantle, were handpicked. The instant you stepped inside you wanted nothing more than to curl up under your sheets and sleep for the rest of the day.

“Jamie.” You started, hearing her heels click across your floor from where you were changing in the closet. “Don't let me stay at my dad's longer than two hours.”

“Of course.”

“Great.” You stepped out of the closet, shoes in hand, and picked up your ever-present backpack. “Let's go.”

“What do you want to do if your dad insists on dinner?” She asked as you made your way back to the car.

“Give him an extra hour.” You sighed.

“Jet lag catching up?” Grant asked as you climbed back into the car.

“Shut up.”

Your fathers office was a very large building but it never daunted you as you practically strutted into the reception area.

“He's in his office.” The receptionist greeted you.

“Thank you darling.” You waved to her, trying not to smirk at the whispers you were hearing.

Then you saw it. All along the floor, leading to the elevator, red string. It was so bright this time around you couldn't help yourself. You knelt down, fingers dancing across the pulsating string, for the first time in your life, you were able to touch it. It felt like wool but was warm and the pulsating could be felt.

“Y/n?” Jamie asked. “What is it?”

“The string, it's so bright.”

“Follow it.” Grant instructed. You stood glancing back the way you came.

“Its paler towards the exit, they must still be in the building.” You turned to Jamie, making her jump. “Tell my dad, I'm going to be late.” Then you were sprinting off to the stairs where the string led.

You were led all the way to a studio where music could be heard, muffled by the door. Your hands shook slightly as you reached for the handle, stopping before you could reach it.

What if they didn't want to meet you yet? What if they were terrible as a person? What if- Before you could continue your mental tirade the door was flung open and like a scene from a Kdrama, a very attractive man was waiting for you on the other side. You both jumped slightly seeing each other but quickly composed yourselves.

“Hi, uh, can I help you?” His accent was thick, and it was obvious that English was not his first language. You weren't sure what to say so you just looked at his hands, there, nestled on his pinkie was a red string.

“Your hand.” Was all you managed to say. He looked down at his hands, confusion etched onto his features and you cursed yourself for being so damn awkward.

“What about my hand?” He asked. You closed your eyes for a second, deciding just to walk away.

“Never mind. I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else.” You bowed slightly to him before turning on your heel and quickly walking the way you came, watching as the red trail grew paler and paler.

“Wait!” He called and you stopped, heart hammering, in the middle of the hall. Your hand was tugged backward slightly, not as though someone was grabbing it and the strange sensation had you turning around slightly. He was crouched on the floor, holding what appeared to be nothing, and tugging lightly, tugging on your finger. Looking up from where he was focused on the string, he smiled broadly. “This is why you came to the studio, isn't it? You followed the string.” He asked standing, string still in hand.

“Yes.” You murmured, too embarrassed to even look at him.

“I'm Yixing.” He greeted, sliding the string through his fingers until he arrived at your hand. As he gently cupped your fingers, a wave coursed through your body, a jolt of raw power erupting from the touch. “What's your name?” You stared down at your joined hands in shock, slowly lifting your head to look at his face.

“Y/n!” Your father's voice echoed through the hall and you both turned to look at the approaching older man. “Ah, Yixing, I see you met Y/n.” His eyes drifting to the entwined hands. “What's this?” He asked, tilting his head sideways in confusion.

“Dad, he's my soulmate.” Your voice was soft, almost a whisper as you spoke the words aloud, gaze drifting to the floor.

“Excuse me?” Your father's voice was suddenly much more stern. Yixing began to pull his hand away but to your own shock, you held onto his fingers. “Get your hands off my child, Mr. Zhang or you can consider our partnership over.” He threatened.

“Enough.” You snapped, voice loud and clear. You steeled your gaze onto your father, staring his down with a look Yixing would later call “the most unnerving gaze of raw power.” Your father raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yixing is my soulmate. I'm a grown adult and he is not your child, we do not need your permission to do anything, nor will I ask for it.” As you spoke the words into existence you felt some sort of power erupting in your heart. Instead of shouting at you, your father instead began to smile, something he rarely did.

“There you are. I had to be sure you meant what you'd said about him being your soulmate.” He turned fully to Yixing. “Lay, don't worry about our partnership, why don't you take Y/n out to dinner tonight, you can get to know each other, and celebrate their birthday.” Yixing turned to you.

“Its your birthday?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“Tomorrow.”

“Go on, fall in love, and all the fun things that come with finding your soulmate.” A grin spread across your face and you tugged on Yixing's hand. Your father grabbed his upper arm as the pair of you attempted to leave the scene. “They may not be a child anymore, but if you hurt even a hair-”

“Don't worry sir, I prefer to tear clothes not hearts.” You let out a snort, pulling him away as your father pondered his words. You were in the elevator, the doors closing when your father gasped and began running towards you.

“Hey! You better not be doing that kind of thing on the first date!” He shouted as the doors fully closed. Laughter echoes through the small space, both of you holding onto the other for support, as the laughter subsided you found yourselves staring at each other, only inches apart.

“You're very beautiful, Y/n” He murmured, causing you to smile at his words.

“You're not too bad yourself, Yixing.” You teased, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. He didn't let you get that far, instead turning his head and cupping your cheek to pull you into a proper kiss. “What was that for?”

“Sealing the deal.”

[smol-and-grumpy]

Dear Dean (Chapter 2)

Re-post

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC (Jamie Blum)

WC: 3.4k

Summary: After taking Saint Lo, by sheer dumb luck, Lieutenant Dean Winchester from the 29th Infantry Division, Baker Company, received a truckload of replacements for his platoon that was falling apart. Little did he know, that one recruit would change his life forever.

Chapter Warnings: There’s none, except angst and the fear of what lies ahead.

SERIES MASTERLIST

22nd July, 1944

Letters from home arrived early in the morning and everyone tore them open, reading them out loud while they were sitting at breakfast and weirdly enough, Dean got a letter too. He thought first that it was Sam’s but no, it was from home. Dean ripped it open, not minding that he tore out a little of the letter as well. He was clumsy with his fingers lately, having trouble to keep them from trembling in the most inconvenient of times.

Dear Dean,

I hope this letter reaches you well, like all the other letters I’ve sent you before. I wish that you would write back, but I understand that time must be a real big issue. I miss you and wanted to say that I’m immensely proud of what you’re doing. I hope Sam’s doing great, too. I thought that I should send you a photograph I found while I cleared out my mom’s attic. Remember how you, Sam and me snuck out to go to the fair? This is the picture of then. That night you kissed me. It was my first kiss, too. I miss you guys so much. My mom’s still taking care of your home. Growing flowers and tending to the porch. She too, believes that the both of you will come back. You were always more than the neighbor boy to me. You were more than a brother or a friend. Dean, I love you, and I still do. Come back in one piece, alright?

Love Always,

Anna Milton

Dean threw away the letter pretty soon after he read it. He wouldn’t reply, like the others that he left on a trail from Omaha to here. Dean knew that if he would write back and tell her that he’d never saw anything else than a friend in her, he’d break her heart and sometimes, if you have nothing nice to say in a letter, you shouldn’t be writing one at all. However he kept the photograph. It was a picture of he, Sam, and Anna in the middle. All of them smiling. All of them still hopeful. He folded it and tucked it into his helmet. Now he had picture in there, too.

June, 1944

Just when it felt like it was all too much, like the loneliness would swallow her whole, Jamie received a letter in the mail addressed to Mr. Jamie Blum. She eagerly ripped through the envelope, not caring about the paper cuts that easily sliced through the skin on her fingers. She held the paper in her hands, small droplets of blood sprinkling the words on the page.

Greeting:

Having submitted yourself to a local board composed of your neighbors for the purpose of determining your availability for training and service in the armed forces of the United States, you are hereby notified that you have been selected for training and service in the Army. You will, therefore, report….

She’d been drafted. Jameson put her name in after all.

Jamie stared at the white paper, and the words began to melt together. She didn’t know if she should cry, or rejoice. So, instead, she walked up the stairs, and into the bathroom. She pulled out her brothers razor blade. Jamie stared at her reflection, her eyes were hollow, and her cheek bones protrudes from lack of sleep. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them she ran the blade across her scalp, in one fluid motion, wincing at the tug of protest that her long hair gave. It fell to the ground like new fallen snow, lackadaisical, and languid. It danced past her empty eyes and collected at her bare feet on the bathroom floor.

She ducked her naked head under the sink, letting the cool water run over her irritated scalp. Jamie was going to do this and nothing would stop her. She gripped the edge of the sink and looked at herself in the mirror, she looked alien without hair, but she smiled at her own reflection, water droplets rolling down her face. She looked a little like Jameson, she thought, as she reached out a hand to touch her reflection in the mirror.

Jamie would leave the house, without looking back, like her brothers before her. Anywhere was better than being alone. Always waiting for letters or worse, for someone to tell her that her brothers all had fallen. She needed to stand on the same ground as them. She needed to feel alive again. So she gathered up what she could find of her brothers that fit, and packed her duffle bag, tossing it over her shoulder. She locked the door behind her, fully prepared to never see her childhood home again.

**

Jamie arrived in England a week later for Basic Training. She was careful about her appearance and was really grateful that she didn’t have large boobs. She didn’t have to actually bind them tightly. She waited for the others to shower and slipped in when they were dressing. It worked surprisingly well, maybe because she was so small, and she could really go anywhere almost undetected. Most of the men in her training class were young themselves, and missing home. They didn’t seem to pay close attention to anyone else, let alone her. She adapted the ways of the men around her. She told crude jokes, and ate with her mouth open. They talked about the dolls at home, and she told them that she couldn’t be tied down by just one. Her secret was safe.

Turned out, she was a hell of a shot. Having three brothers worked to her advantage. Jamie knew how to spit, clean a weapon, and she could drink just about any man under the table. She completed only four days of training when they announced that she was shipping off to France. Apparently there was a shortage everywhere. Soldiers moved in and out of camp restlessly, like little ants.

**

22nd July, 1944

On the way to her assignment, she sat in the back of a truck. It was bumping, and uncomfortable. She grunted at every rock the truck rolled over. When they arrive in Saint Lo, and she finally could stand up again, and straighten her back, she felt a stinging pain traveling down her spine, but she wouldn’t let it bring her down.

Even in a war zone, she could admit that France was beautiful. She could see the seaside, and taste the ocean air. Almost like back at Trenton. The other men didn’t seem to notice the sea air, or the clear sky. They gathered their things and were already in step.

Biting on her lip, Jamie secured her webbing, swung her haversack across her back and hung her musette bag around her body, determined to be at the front of the pack. She wouldn’t fall behind. She fetched her rifle from the floor of the truck bed, and jumped off the halting truck, into the bright sun.

They lined up the new arrivals in the front of their respective platoons and were inspected by the platoon leaders. Jamie stood at attention like she was taught, her chest out, next to her training class. Her heartbeat rang in her ears with a woosh, as her eyes landed on the man in front of her. He was tall, about six foot, if she was guessing. His shoulders were broad, and she could see the reflection of their terrified faces in his mossy green eyes.

“Name’s Lieutenant Dean Winchester.” The man announced and Jamie flinched at the deep rolling sound of his voice at first, but at the same time, the bass of it was strangely calming and smooth, as if it was coated with warm and sweet honey.

She pressed her lips together, and tried to ignore the bead of sweat that was on her upper lip.

Lieutenant Winchester stood up straight, puffing up his broad shoulders to intimidate them and for some, it worked, but not with her. She knew these kind of men, all bark, but no bite.  She tightened her jaw, trying not to laugh at her platoon leader’s alpha behavior.

Dean turned on his heels, his eyes narrowing at the small replacement in front of him. Christ, he can’t be older than eighteen? They make them smaller and smaller. “What your name, private?”

“Blum, Sir.” It came shouting out of him like a pistol. He’d been drilled to do it, Dean knew.

“Private Blum, huh?” A lopsided grin started to spread on Dean’s face. “Alright, private Blum. From now on, in my platoon, you’ll be Bambi.” And then he looked up from him to the other replacements. “I like to give nicknames to my privates. You’ll all get one if you’re lucky.” He took a good look at their faces in the line before he stalled before private Blum. “You’re fucking small, Bambi. Tell me, what can you contribute to my platoon?”

“Sir, I’m a mean shooter.” Bambi shouted like he’d been drilled in basic.

“Shooter, huh? Good. I can use that. What else, private?” Dean knew that he shouldn’t be so harsh on the first day but hell, he’s got a platoon to lead and a freaking war to win. Then he adds, “Come on! Humor me.”

“I..uh..”

“That’s what I thought –” Dean snickered but got cut off by the small private with doe eyes.

“I know a little German, Lieutenant. You’re right, I’m small but I’m stronger than I look. I’m pretty good, you just watch.” The privates eyes locked with Deans in a challenge. Almost as if he was saying, challenge me.

Dean nodded at that. He knew that he should maybe shout at him, telling him not to talk to his superior like that, but he was too tired for this shit. He still had a briefing to attend and so he stepped back before he turned to Sergeant Harvelle. “Take over, sergeant.”

And then he walked away, leaving Harvelle to deal with instructions.

There was something about Bambi that made his blood freeze. He couldn’t figure out what it was, but it was something that made him want to protect that little son of a bitch who thought he was a smartass. But Dean also knew that private Blum would probably be trouble, he just couldn’t put a finger on how yet.

The look Bambi gave Dean was all too familiar. It was a look he normally saw on Sam. Sammy could look at him with doe eyes, under long lashes, and he would melt. Now there was someone in his company - no, in his freaking platoon - that gave him the same fucking look and it didn’t really bode well with Dean.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Sam and so Dean decided to fill his remaining 10 minutes before briefing with writing him a letter.

Dear Sam,

I haven’t had a lot of time to write to you lately. I’m sorry for that. Things have been wild, man. I thought you’d be here with us in Saint Lo, but I got words that you stayed behind at Omaha to help clear things out. Sammy, just take good care, alright? Don’t make me abandon my platoon and come save your ass!

I thought Omaha was bad, but shit just got worse from there on out. I lost a kid. A goddamn kid, Sam! Not much older than you are. He tried to tell me a joke and stepped on a landmine. I should have seen it but I was so goddamn distracted by him and now, there’s not even enough of him left to send home to his parents, and I know that it’s on me. It’s all on me. You asked me once how many I need to save, and I answered with “all of them”, do you remember? I think I failed, Sammy. I failed real bad.

I’ve lost half of my platoon before we could take over Saint Lo, Sammy. And hey, we did it without ammo. I hope you’re proud of me. Captain Mills is weird lately, though. He always keeps talking about me taking over. I don’t even know why he does that.. So my job right now is to cheer him the fuck up at keep him alive because, Sam, I don’t wanna lead. I can’t. I will fail, I know that much. I’ll let my platoon down, the whole Baker Company. I’m so fucking screwed if something should happen to Mills.

We’ve got a shitload of new recruits today. More lives that I need to take care of. They arrived this morning and one of them already rubs me the wrong way. And he’s also the reason why I sat myself down to write to you. He reminds me of you. He has the same set of eyes and already tried to undermine me. I should have stripped him the fuck down, but I couldn’t, Sammy. I couldn’t, because I saw you in him. You have the same eyes and fucking hell, remember the screening of Bambi at camp? He’s got Bambi eyes. Big, doe-like and I swear he gave me that dirty diaper look you’ve always been giving me since I can remember.

I’m sorry about the rant, brother. It’s just… I don’t know who I should talk to about this. I hoped you skipped half of the letter because there’s nothing but ranting.

Shit, Sammy, I fucking miss you. I hope you’re ok and this letter will reach you. Take care, alright?

Lieutenant Dean Winchester

Jamie’s fingers twitched at her side. Bambi, huh? Fuck this. Not even here for a minute and the Lieutenant was already pissing on her parade. If Jamie didn’t think that she’d made a mistake by coming, she sure as hell knew now, but there was no going back anymore.

Sergeant Harvelle directed them to their billets before they would go out for a hot meal. The people in the platoon were in good spirits and some of them even joked that they wanted to stay here for the roof over their head and the regular hot meals. It made Jamie think about what they went through to consider this a piece of heaven.

Jamie fetched her tray and lined up and waited on her serving of food. She balanced the tray to the table where her platoon was sitting and sat at the beginning of the bench, next to Sergeant Harvelle and across from Corporal Tran. She poked around in something that looks awful lot like Mac’n’Cheese, but she couldn’t be sure until she would taste it on her tongue, when Tran asked her a question.

“So, you’re Bambi, huh?” He said it with a casual smile on his face, having heard about her interaction with Lieutenant Winchester.

Jamie swallowed what turned out to really be Mac’n’Cheese, only too watery and salty for her taste, but she couldn’t complain now, could she, before she spoke. “Apparently, that’s me.”

“Hey,” Tran said, pointing his fork in her direction, “Better than being called Dopey or Sneezy.”

She grinned at the thought of Lieutenant Winchester naming people in his platoon after the seven dwarfs. “Why, who’s Dopey?”

Tran points to the private at the end of the table. “Private Sands is Dopey, and next to him,” Tran looks back at her, “we have Private Redfield as Sneezy.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Sneezed his freaking way through the fields after Omaha, man.” Tran and Harvelle laughed when they thought back at the way Private Redfields nose and eyes were puffy red and swollen from hayfever.

“And you, Sergeant, Corporal?” She looks at them, wondering what their nicknames were. It would only be fair if everyone has got one, Jamie thought.

“We don’t. Winchester’s only giving them on the go. So, I guess, congrats to you, Bambi!” Harvelle stuffed his mouth with a big fork of food and then Tran leaned in a little, looking around before he whispered so that only Jamie and sergeant Harvelle could hear him.

“We call the Lieutenant Grumpy.” Tran winked and Jamie snorted before throwing her head back into heartfelt laughter. Harvelle and Tran joined in.

“What’s so funny?” Lieutenant Winchester was standing at the foot of the table, a little behind him, was Lieutenant Novak. They both held a tray in their hands and there was a heavy frown on Lieutenant Winchester’s face.

“Nothing, Sir.” Harvelle said hastily and began to shout down the line to scooch together and Jamie did the same, scooching close to Harvelle, to make room for the two Lieutenants.

Lieutenant Winchester sat down his eyebrows still knotted together in the middle of his forehead, as if he didn’t trust that they were laughing about nothing. Lieutenant Novak on the other hand, had his lips spread into a warm smile and he spoke and first she didn’t know that he meant her, but then he asked again. “Private? Hey, Bambi.”

“Yes, Sir!” It came out a little too enthusiastic and she could see at the corner of her eye that Lieutenant Dean Winchester was holding back a laugh.

“I asked you why you are here. What’s your story?” Lieutenant Novak said, his voice warm and kind. Why couldn’t she be in his platoon?

Jamie exhaled loudly, and then she speaks. “I..uh… my brother’s are all in the army. I didn’t want to be left behind.”

She could see that Lieutenant Winchesters face went from grumpy to understanding and she hoped he was warming up to her.

“How many brothers do you have?” It was Tran who asked and he had sympathy painted on his face.

Jamie stopped eating and laid her fork down. “Three. They’re all scattered around here somewhere.” She could feel that everyone in her close proximity were listening to her because they stopped eating, too. She tapped her fork, not liking being the center of attention after all the time she spent in Basic trying to blend in.

“And parents? Must be tough having all their kids out in the field.” Harvelle asked hesitantly, as if he didn’t want to overstep but he was curious and Jamie understood.

“I don’t have any. We’ve only had each other as far as I can remember.” Jamie bit back the tears that stung in her eyes. There was no way that she wanted to cry there in front of everyone. She was a man, dammit.

Harvelle nodded and returned to his food and the others followed. They all kept eating in silence, and she could only hear Lieutenants Winchester and Novak talking to each other in low voices.

When Lieutenant Winchester finished his plate, he looks around his platoon. “Who’s on sentry?” They’d been rotating sentry with the other companies and he knew that Baker always have one or two sentry shifts at night, but he tended to forget who and when.

“We are, Sir!” The shout came from the other end of the table and Lieutenant Dean Winchester craned his neck.

“Dopey and Sneezy? What a team, huh? What time?”

“Oh-three-hundred, Sir!”

Lieutenant Winchester nodded in the direction of Private Sands and Redford. “Alright you two, you are switching with me and Bambi. Take a nap. Rest. I want you all well rested at Oh-six-hundred.”

Jamie looked at Lieutenant Winchester in disbelief. She just arrived for fuck’s sake. She didn’t even know the perimeter. Didn’t even know how what to do. While her mind was working with the endless tasks and what there is to do on sentry duty, Lieutenant Dean looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

“You got a problem with that, Bambi?”

“No, Sir.” She replied, a little less enthusiastic.

Lieutenant Dean stood up from the bench and balanced his tray in one hand. “Good. Report to the meeting point at Oh-two-fifty.”

And before Jamie could even nod, he was already gone with Lieutenant Novak trailing behind.

“Shit, Bambi. What did you do to piss him off?” Tran looked at her stunned. “He never changed sentry rota with a new replacement before.”

Jamie just shrugged in disbelieve. “I don’t fucking know.”

“Look, he’s grumpy and might be harsh, but he’s looking out for his people, alright? We’ve had rough days behind us and he probably just wanted us to get a good nights worth of sleep and it happened that two of us still had to be on sentry so he took it over and I guess, you were just sitting the closet to him.” Harvelle cleaned his plate with his fork, the metal clinking together and it gave Jamie goosebumps.

“Yeah, probably.” Jamie said meekly and with the others, she put the tray back and walked out of the hall. She paused and looked up to the dimming sky, thinking and hoping that her brothers had it better than she did.

Chapter 3

[katsitting]

Lace

For Jamie <3 @obsidianpen

Prompt: Lace + Harrymort

Rating: M

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, One-sided Unresolved Sexual Tension, Torture

Don’t know what this is. This took me longer to write. I wanted to write smut, but the muse refused. Please excuse my typos. Also, if you haven’t guessed it already. This is probably my fave trope for this ship ^^; I hope you like it, irrespective of this <3

A veil had fallen over his eyes, the familiar weight drawing a soft breath from his lips. The sensation was the same as all the times before. Identical in that his enemy occluded his vision; that the world ceased to exist outside of the four walls he was currently sitting within.

Why this was so?

Harry could not hazard a guess. He had tried one too many times to decipher just what it was that ran through the old man's head, and still, Harry had yet to discern the answer. So here he was, sitting idly in the dining room, waiting for heaven knows what to happen with a bloody blindfold pressed against his eyes and no real explanation as to why.

Just a simple, "stay still," and, "put on the bloody blindfold," by his generous babysitter.

It didn't matter that this was the status quo. That this was a common occurrence ever since he'd been forced into the Dark Lord's marvelous care. It would be stupid for Harry to think that Voldemort was not planning something, that the man had no purpose for blindfolding him. Voldemort never acted without intention; Harry had seen enough memories of the Dark Lord's younger years to know just how Voldemort functioned.

But again, the issue always went back to why. Why did the Dark Lord blindfold him every night before dinner? Why did the Dark Lord force him to eat with him at all? Harry's stomach turned, nerves frayed. It was anxiety-inducing to not know. Completely unsettling that he had to follow along with a madman's whims.

"Harry...how are you this evening?"

The sudden sound of the sibilant voice was enough to stand the hairs on Harry's arms on end. It didn't matter that Harry heard it often. It didn't matter that every single night he would be subjected to that very same question, while blindfolded and forced to sit at the dinner table.

None of it mattered.

There was a script to be followed, one that Harry knew none of the lines for.

Bastard.

"...The same as always. Can't say the shade of the paint changes much when you're imprisoned in the same four bloody walls."

Harry's remark was scathing, full of all the vitriol he could muster within his body.

It was the only control he really had over his situation since the man had kidnapped him. He had believed the Polyjuice trick would work too, that he'd be able to slip past the Dark Lord's non-existent nose and make it out unscathed. But that had certainly not been the case.

The whole affair had gone the exact opposite of swell, in his honest opinion. It was disturbing just how quickly Voldemort had spotted him. His malignant eyes catching his own almost instantaneously. It didn't matter that there were at least ten different copies of himself flying through the darkened sky. None at all when the Dark Lord had managed to sniff him out like an offensive odor.

It was absurd, really. Though when was Harry's life not a case of Murphy's Law? When did brilliant plans not go awry in the most unexpected of ways?

Hedwig.

Harry cringed as if he'd been hit, recalling with vivid clarity how the Dark Lord had struck his most loyal companion down when she'd tried to save him. He wished he could have saved her, that he could have done something to have saved her from the killing curse he had flung at her in rage.

Harry released a soft, shuddering breath at the memory.

But there had been no time to grieve for her. No time at all in the seconds Voldemort had seized him by the throat and apparated them away. He couldn't afford to cry and to think about her when he was in danger, when at any moment's notice the bastard could exploit that weakness.

...So yes, Harry was more than a little bitter. Especially when he had not had even a single moment of respite to grieve for his friend. It was only fair that he take any and all opportunity to defy this man. There was satisfaction in knowing that he'd pissed off the Dark Lord, that even in a position of complete powerlessness he could still get underneath the man's skin.

It was well worth living through the Cruciatus curse.

Harry sensed rather than saw the man's irritation flare, the dinner table the only barrier between them as Voldemort's fury erupted, his magic like writhing snakes lapping at his skin.

"Rude as always. I don't suppose your upbringing allowed for such a privilege."

Harry winced as if struck.

Wow.

Before Harry could think to say something scathing in return, Voldemort continued on as if he hadn’t been the cause of Harry’s shitty upbringing in the first place.

"Now then, I believe that your dinner is served. You should eat it while the charms are still in effect."

Harry frowned. He'd sooner eat glass than listen to a single thing the man said. Not after a comment like that.

"Get stuffed." Harry said instead, lips twisting into a vicious smirk when Voldemort released a sharp exhale in irritation.

Oh, he was annoyed? Good.

"You are trying my patience, Harry." Voldemort warned, but Harry willfully ignored the threat.

"And your point is? I am your prisoner, not your minion. I don't have to be civil to you. You killed Hedwig. You kidnapped me and nearly killed me once already. You're bloody mad if you think‒"

"Crucio."

Harry never finished his rant.

Harry felt his lungs completely deplete of air from the force of the spell. It was fire and ice, the warring sensations running up his skin and tugging at each of his nerve endings. Harry could not say a word, the syllables lost to the agony that suddenly pierced through each of his limbs, like knives cutting flesh, the blade stabbing deep into the bed of his fingernails.

He ached in places he'd never hurt before. Tears streamed from the corners of his eyes, and Harry was never more grateful of the fact that he was blindfolded then. Anything was better than showing this man weakness. Anything was better than showing just how affected he was by the strength of Voldemort's spell.

"You will treat me with the respect. You will mind that tongue or I will mind it for you, you foolish boy."

Harry closed his teeth around his bottom lip to stifle the scream that threatened to come up his throat. It was like a current trying to force its way through a small crack, like a dam ready to burst at any moment's notice if left unchecked. But Harry bit until he bled, silencing the cries because he absolutely refused to give him the satisfaction.

He would not give in. He would not heel.

But then the pain grew worse. So much worse.

Harry felt his spine bend without any true control, felt the precise second he arched and threw his head back from the visceral sensation. His fingers dig into the carpeted ground for purchase, unable to recall when he had fallen onto the unforgiving floor, but uncaring of that small detail when he felt like he were being burned alive. All he could see was black, the blindfold exacerbating rather than dulling the agony, his senses attuned to every mouthful of air he sucked into his lungs. All Harry could feel was acid flowing through his veins, and he wanted nothing more than for the abuse to end.

But still, he did not scream. Even when he wanted nothing more than to ease the pressure crushing his lungs.

And then the pressure compounded on itself, the scream like bile churning in his stomach when his fingers felt though they were now being snapped one by one, like his elbows and knees were being fractured in time with each breath Harry took. It was too much, even for him to resist. He could scarcely breathe, his lungs crying out under the assault.

Please make it stop! Harry thought, before the pressure gave. Before he could no longer cling to his resistance.

Harry screamed like he never had before. No longer able to hold in the cries; the feeling of his spine being twisted and pulled was as if the magic alone would snap his spine right in half.

"Delicious." Harry heard Voldemort speak from somewhere above him, the parseltongue like water flowing through a river. Rapid and unyielding, it broke through the whirlwind of Harry's emotions, the agony giving way momentarily.

But the relief was short lived.

Harry cried out when he felt something latch onto the back of his head and yank painfully on his hair. A hand, perhaps? A claw? Harry did not know what it was, but all he knew was that it hurt. And that it bent his head so far back that he was sure his neck might snap in two.

"Will you obey?" Voldemort said, and Harry felt another rush of agony and hate dance within his veins. He felt acid creep up his throat, the rush enough to let him shape the words that formed along the crevices of his brain.

"N-never," Harry gasped, barely managing to string the words together since Voldemort had yet to lift the spell drowning him in absolute misery. But Harry couldn't just leave Voldemort's mocking words unanswered. No, Harry had to show him just how little he valued the man's opinion. Voldemort could just shove his statement right up his‒

"Do you enjoy being punished, Harry?"

And then the agony ceased, the magic sucking what little strength Harry had left like a black hole.

Harry collapsed onto the ground, a weak cry falling from his lips when the hand‒yes, it was Voldemort's hand‒kept a firm grip on his hair. His neck protested at the strange angle it was bent at, his arms like heavy weights, powerless to push against the ground to relieve the pressure on his neck.

Harry was certain Voldemort had ripped several strands of hair from his head in that endeavor.

Seconds passed before Harry could compose himself. His body still shaking with the force of Voldemort's spell, but it was loads better than being pulled under that dangerous current.

"W-what kind of bloody question is that? I definitely don’t like‒”

“I do not believe you,” Voldemort interrupted, his voice coming from somewhere directly in front of him. The Dark Lord sounded amused, like he was ready to break into laughter at any moment. It was unsettling the way Harry could tell, how the ripples in his voice could alert Harry instantly of a change in his mood.

“They bring you here under my orders. You are asked to sit and have dinner with me precisely at 7:00 o’clock sharp each evening. And yet, each time any attempt at polite conversation is rejected.”

That sounded about right. Harry would never entertain even the thought of politeness with this man. Sure, it was foolish to poke the beast as often as he did, but he couldn’t help it. Even when he tried to ignore him, his mouth could never remain perfectly shut. It was like it had a mind of its own, never listening to reason, or heeding any warnings.

Remaining silent was the smarter choice, the safer strategy in defying the Dark Lord, but just as easily as it was for Harry to get underneath Voldemort's skin, Voldemort was just as skilled at getting underneath Harry's. It was, to his dismay, a two-way street.

“What? Did you expect me to ask you to pass me the salt and pepper over dinner? To make small talk with the man that murdered my parents?” Harry mocked, wincing when Voldemort tightened his grip on his head in retaliation.

“Is it wise to antagonize me so? To make your stay far more unpleasant than it could be? You are fed, you are clothed, and you are allowed a room of your own. I could take all these amenities away and show you just how‒”

“Do it. Hardly matters to me what you do. The Order will find me and they will break me out. We will win.”

Voldemort’s hand stilled in his hair, his grip relaxing before disentangling from his hair entirely. Harry’s head dropped onto the ground, his cheek getting the brunt of the fall. He was certain he’d have a bruise by the end of it, if the throbbing was anything to go by.

A heavy silence fell between them.

Harry swallowed, anticipation curling in his stomach when the man had yet to speak. It was always a bad sign when the Dark Lord was quiet. It could mean one of two things. He was either plotting, or incredibly angry. And Harry was certain it would be the latter of the two.

Voldemort was angry. Harry could feel it in his bones, the way the connection between them flared to life with the rolling storm of his emotions.

It was the calm before the storm, the silence before the rage. And Harry waited for the man to explode, to curse him and drag him back to his room without dinner. As he often did.

But Voldemort did not react as Harry expected.

Voldemort laughed.

He started bloody laughing. It sounded like the Dark Lord was choking on air, like he could not help but release the strangled sounds from the strength of his delight.

Harry was floored, unnerved and unsure at what to do despite his senses screaming for him to rise from where he’d fallen on the ground. But his limbs refused to cooperate, they were like jelly after being held under the Cruciatus curse for as long as he'd been.

Could it have been a minute? Could have been an hour? Harry did not know, but before he could ask Voldemort to explain just what he found so damn amusing, Voldemort spoke.

“Harry, Harry, Harry...how charming. How naive you are.”

Harry gasped when he felt something warm dance along his nerve endings before he was forcefully lifted by an invisible force. He was floating in midair, the pit of his stomach protesting at the weightless feeling that had fallen over him while blindfolded.

Harry wished he could at least see. That he could at least know what Voldemort’s expression looked like in that second. Because Harry had been sure the man was going to curse him, not laugh at him. None of this made any bloody sense.

“The Order will not come, I can assure you of this. Your mudblood pet and your bloodtraitor friend will not be performing any sort of heroics to free you from my grasp.”

Harry’s arms prickled with unease, a full body shudder running up his spine when the man practically purred the words out like a promise. As if he was certain, as if he knew for a fact that they would not come.

What has he done? Harry thought instantly, the implication of Voldemort's words forcing image after unpleasant image in Harry’s head.

He saw Ron’s blue, twinkling eyes shattering like glass. He saw Hermione’s dimpled smile, lips stretching too wide. He heard their laughter, and he felt their hands pressed up against his shoulders, digging their hands into his flesh. He could see them clearly behind the opaque blindfold on his face, their flesh rotting away...

And it was with great horror that Harry realized just what Voldemort had meant.

No.

“W-what did you do to them!? Where are they? What did you do?” Harry panicked, his voice desperate and angry all at once as he struggled to free himself from the force keeping him perfectly still. It didn’t matter that his stomach was protesting heavily or that he sounded like he was pleading rather than demanding the man to tell him.

Harry needed to know. He needed it more than his stomach needed food, more than his lungs needed air.

“I have done nothing to your friends. Not yet, at least.”

Harry slumped into the invisible hold, his relief so palpable that he didn’t bother to mask it.

“But they are here, and I cannot promise that they will remain unharmed. They took quite the risk infiltrating this estate...and I certainly cannot leave such an offense against me  without punishment.”

“Don’t!” Harry shouted instantly, his voice echoing within the small room like there were a thousand versions of himself screaming out the word. Harry renewed his struggles, unable to keep himself still when Voldemort could potentially harm his friends. When the man didn’t sound like he gave a cared at all about whether he killed them or tortured them, or both.

Harry wouldn’t let him. He refused to let any harm come to them, not after they risked so much to save him. If Harry was tortured and hurt, he could live with this fact. He could bite his tongue and survive the suffering. But for Voldemort to torture his friends...no, it was unacceptable. Harry couldn’t stomach it, wouldn’t stand for it.

So he said the first thing he could think of. All reason be damned.

“I’ll behave. I’ll...stop being a complete arse. Just don’t hurt them, please.” The words were like battery acid on his tongue, but he meant every single word he said. He seized on the one thing Voldemort had seemed to want from him and threw it at the man in the hopes that it would work. He’d kiss the man’s feet if that meant he’d keep his friends out of trouble. If it would be enough to get them out of harm’s way.

“A compelling offer. But what makes you so sure that that is what I desire from you, Harry Potter?”

Harry swallowed at the hint of curiosity in the man’s voice. He would admit that he hadn’t thought that far in advance. The words had shot out of him without much thought, the only thing running through the back of his head the safety of his friends and the conversation they’d been having earlier that evening.

Voldemort had chastised him about his lack of politeness, had cursed him over a simple thing as mouthing off at him. Sure, Harry had seen the man kill others for less. But still, the man’s fixation with his behavior had been the first thing he’d thought of before running his mouth.

He didn’t necessarily have a reason, but he wouldn’t tell that to Voldemort. Not when this could possibly save his friends from harm.

“You bring me to the dining hall to eat with you. You blindfold me and you ask about my feelings, and my thoughts. You don’t keep me confined in a cell and you don’t starve me when you otherwise could. You haven’t killed me yet when you’ve spent most of my life trying to put me six feet under. There is something you want from me, and whatever it is, I'll give it to you. J-just don't harm my friends.”

Harry’s throat felt tight, the weight of his words as oppressive as Voldemort’s magic keeping a firm grasp of his body. But he had said them. He had voiced the concerns he had had from the moment he’d been captured rather than killed. He didn’t know why Voldemort had not killed him, didn’t know why Voldemort had not kept him hidden away in the dingiest cell the Malfoy’s had. Harry simply didn’t know.

He had asked the man before for an explanation, but had received none each time. Perhaps, this time, he might humor him. Maybe he might even explain what the blindfold was for. What the purpose of this whole charade was.

Harry felt clothes rustle in the dark, like the sound of a bird’s wings flapping in the air. Something cool pressed against his cheeks, and he shivered. The soft touch spread along his face, and Harry swallowed nervously when a warm finger then  touched his forehead, tracing the ridges of his scar in a reverent fashion.

Harry jolted when a sharp nail dug into the skin, and he immediately tried to pull away. But there was nowhere for him to go. Voldemort's magic held him rooted in place, unable to do nothing more than clench his fists and wiggles his toes.

Harry didn’t know what was happening.

“Sign a magical contract submitting to my terms, and I will spare your friends.”

Harry froze, disbelief clouding his senses.

No, I couldn’t possibly--

“You will swear that you will never raise your wand against me unless I have permitted you otherwise. You will swear that you will never return to your allies and that you remain in my care indefinitely.”

Harry’s breaths came quickly, as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.

“And you will do so tonight, or I will consider their lives forfeit.”

Harry felt his stomach turn at even the thought of serving this man. He’d rather die, he’d rather suffer through the Killing Curse and be done with it.

But he couldn’t leave his friends to die. He couldn’t.

“Spare all of my friends. Spare everyone that I care about, give them a chance to renounce themselves, even. And I'll sign whatever it is you want me to.” Harry said desperately, and winced when Voldemort laughed silkily at his poor attempt to change some of the terms.

“And what would you give me in exchange for the lives of the other traitors? I had intended to spare the Pureblood children, so much magical blood has already been lost. But what reason do I have to spare the mudbloods fighting in this war? What are their filthy lives worth?”

Harry swallowed, unable to form an answer to his question.

What could Harry possible give him? What did he have that Voldemort could possible want? Harry was thrown.

So Harry, for the second time that day, said the first thing he could think of.

“My loyalty. I'll give you my loyalty in exchange for their lives.” Harry said, throat tight.

Voldemort's fingers on his scar stilled, as if considering Harry's words.

Harry's heart began to race when the hand finally dropped, fingers catching on his blindfold.

And then, Voldemort’s fingers tugged at the fabric, the lace falling away from his eyes to reveal bright, white light. Harry hissed in pain closing his eyes immediately to shield his eyes from the too bright light.

"Your loyalty..." Voldemort whispered, tone curious.

It was several seconds before Harry was finally able to open his eyes. He blinked away the dark spots dancing along his vision, ignoring the silence that had fallen between them once more, before he settled his gaze on Voldemort's pale, gaunt face. His skin looked waxy underneath the white light above their heads. Harry might even say, translucent, with how readily he could discern the faint blue veins twisting underneath the flesh in spite of his poor vision.Harry was revolted by the sight, but he said nothing nor turned away.

There was nowhere for him to go, and the strange emotion glimmering within the man’s crimson eyes made it difficult to even blink.

They glittered like rubies, hints of garnet and pinks pooled within the iris. Harry, if he squinted, could almost see himself reflected in there. They were too bloody close.

“You would give me your loyalty in exchange for their lives?” Voldemort said, head tilting to one side as if he were seeing Harry for the first time.

Harry sucked in a sharp breath, fingers shaking nervously. Voldemort was too close, and there was a gleam in his eyes that did not sit well for Harry at all. He was looking at him like he were some specimen to be inspected, like he had found something particularly interesting and now could not be bothered to look away.

It took Harry longer than he’d like to gather himself, but when he did, he clenched his jaw and shot the man the most determined expression he could muster. He wasn’t feeling particularly courageous in that second, but it didn’t matter how he felt.  He knew what he needed to say. He knew what he needed to do to ensure that everyone made it out alive.

"Yes. I would."

The words felt like a death sentence, strange and foreign on his tongue. But Harry wouldn't have it any other way, would have said nothing else in that moment. He would do whatever it took to protect his friends. Even if it meant selling his soul to the Dark Lord.

Voldemort’s expression froze for a moment, and then, just as Harry was about to lose his mind, a slow smile spread along the man’s lips.

It was the most terrifying thing Harry had ever seen in his life. Single-handedly more frightening than Bellatrix’s maniacal grin when he had his unfortunate run in with her at the Ministry of Magic.

Harry felt rather than saw Voldemort’s magic flare out, the power of it like the heat of the scorching afternoon sun. He shuddered, feeling the waves of magic lap at his skin before settling over his eyes. Just where the blindfold had shrouded his vision mere moments earlier.

“Have I told you Harry, exactly how lovely lace looks on you?”

Harry swallowed.

What?

“Simply how you look with your eyes hidden away, the cloth’s intricate patterns woven through the material as you flounder over your meal?”

What was happening?

“Do you not want to know why it is that you are not dead? To know why I deny you the privilege of your vision when in my presence? Why I treat you better than you deserve?”

Harry was silent. He did not want to know anymore. He had been curious certainly, but the man’s eyes. They burned with a strange emotion, with something that made Harry’s skin crawl with unease.

Voldemort did not wait for him to answer, his hand instead coming up to trail pale, clawed fingers against his cheekbone.

“You are my Horcrux...your soul irrevocably intertwined with my own,” Voldemort hissed, the parseltongue dancing along his senses. Harry froze, his disbelief and horror exploding so viciously that Harry did not know when one emotion began and the other ended. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible.

But how was it that Harry could sense Voldemort’s thoughts? How was it that he could see into his head as if he were living through Voldemort’s flesh? Dumbledore’s explanation had been unsatisfactory back then. Perhaps, this was what Dumbledore had not wanted to tell him. A burden that he did not think Harry was ready to bear.

Merlin, this couldn’t be true. But the weight of his words felt more oppressive than the magic restraining him. It felt more constricting, more suffocating than any shackles Voldemort could put on him.

No.

“My emotions, my thoughts, my dreams are as much a part of you as they are mine. I own you, Harry Potter. Far more completely than anyone could ever dream,” Voldemort said in English then, caressing Harry’s quivering cheek in a reverent fashion. Slow and fluid, like death kissing along warm skin.

Harry felt like he might be sick. It couldn’t be true. He couldn’t have a piece of‒

Harry’s mouth trembled, but he couldn’t find the words.

“And here you are, contrary and resistant. Fighting the connection that grows stronger with each passing day you reside here…”

Voldemort’s fingers slipped away from his cheek, moving past his ear to thread through his hair. Harry shuddered at the strange, ticklish sensation, mouth parting open to tell Voldemort to stop.

But the words died in his throat when Voldemort then leaned in so close that there was only a hair’s breadth of space separating their lips, the proximity nearly making him cross-eyed.

“Nothing delights me more than conquering you, than watching you fumble and rely on your Lord when I have stripped you of your vision. As poor as it already is without my own influence.”

Voldemort was mad. He was completely, totally, absolutely mad. Harry thought in that second, horror seizing him completely when the man inhaled deeply, eyes closing momentarily as if he were relishing this moment.

Merlin, please.

“And now here you are, begging me to spare the lives of these vermin in exchange for your loyalty. Are they worth the price to be paid? Are they worth your pride and your freedom?” Voldemort asked, and Harry tried not to gasp when Voldemort’s firm grip on his head tightened, their lips nearly brushing.

Harry could taste Voldemort’s breath on his tongue, like freshly spilled blood and frozen air seeping through the cracks of an icebox. And he wanted nothing more than to pull away from this, than to tell Voldemort to fuck off.

But he didn’t. This was a test. Voldemort wanted a specific answer from him, wanted to show him just what it entailed to give up his agency for the lives of his friends and perfect strangers. He knew his answer, even before Voldemort had asked him the question.

“Yes.”

Just one word was enough to change everything in that second.

Harry watched Voldemort’s restraint shatter, noted the second bright red eyes exploded with triumph and his lips curved into a pleased grin. His magic erupted around him, the current overtaking Harry completely.

“A fine choice, my Horcrux.”

[the-voice-of-hell]

The Septagram

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-   Previous   -    First   -

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***

Jen had given up on her futile assault, brought Amduscias to the edge of the magic circle and set him to work there.  The unicorn planted his horn in the invisible magic shield, creating a point of conflict.  His energy was white ripples across the surface, the magic circle was orange fiery sparks.  She had to step back to avoid being singed, and patted his rump affectionately.

Park stood between the praying civilians and the demon show.  He couldn’t see Infante’s face in that blur and it disturbed him intensely.  How could anyone live through that treatment?  His brain would be one big blob of blood from all the burst vessels.

Rocks and water fell from the roof over the flaming wheel and sputtered away as nothing.  Was it a collapse, coming to destroy them all?  A dark shape came down from the roof, like an angry oversized mosquito with broken wings.  It also crashed into the fire and was thrown to the ground behind the demon.

Park and Jen came around for a closer look, while Amduscias kept stabbing the shield and Maddy and Daddy kept praying.  Abalaam laughed and told them what was happening before they had a chance to figure it out for themselves.

“Welcome Iphigenia, the Hammer of Doom.  Now, Jennifer, you must decide where you will stand.”

Jen looked at the crumpled pile of bloody sticks and rags in between her and the cop.  She couldn’t believe the frail-looking thing was a superhero like herself.  “Iphigenia?  Are you OK?”

Park was appalled.  She was in horrible shape again - clothes ripped up, soaked with water and dirt and blood.  Big swollen knots had formed on her arms in a few places and on the left side of her chin.

The beaten creature blinked, became human again, as she stretched up to a sitting position.  She looked at Jen and Park.  “Yeah, yeah, I’m OK.  Is this..?”

“Abalaam’s wheel,” Park said.  “Listen, he has hostages in there.”

“Huh?”

Jen said, “He has my friend Sergio, and another guy trapped in his wheel.  I have my unicorn working on this magic shield thing, man…  I don’t know.”

Iphigenia staggered to her feet, helped by the others.

Park said, “You heard the offer?  From Bymaan?”

Jen said, “Abalaam too.  It’s like a cartoon angel and devil on your shoulder, but they’re both devils.”

Park said, “All I heard was Abalaam.”

Abalaam said, “I told you, she doesn’t care about mortals.”

Finally the Queen spoke.  “That’s not true!  I love all of you.  But the nephilim will decide our battle, that is clear.”

The break in her concentration was enough for Abalaam to make a move.  He lurched to his feet, and all the little people behind him had to scramble out of the way of the big flaming wheel.

Abalaam struck out with his huge red arms, as if to strangle her.  Bymaan grabbed his hands with her own, clutching them, locking with them.  They pressed on each other - her from below, him from above.  She got one knee off the ground and bared her gritted teeth.  A lion’s snarl was in her breath.  Sparks and fire flowed from his body, the vents in his flesh belching like volcanic gas.

 Iphigenia raised her hammer to attack the wheel, and Jen and Park both got in her way.  She let it fall back.  “What the hell?”

Park said, “That wheel is made out of people, dammit!  Think!”

“I don’t know them,” she said with a snarl.

Jen said, “You shouldn’t have to!  Let’s just go hit him in the head or something.”

She groaned and dragged the hammer around to look at the giant grapplers in profile.  “Kinda hard to reach his head.”

“Well-”

Abalaam interrupted.  “If you defeat me without killing her first, you’ll never stop her!”

Park said, “I believe him, and I can see the future, so just, keep that in mind.”

Ippy looked at him through narrow eyes.

Jen said, “I’ll give you a piggyback ride, and you can hit him with the hammer!”

“I could just ride the unicorn.”

“No, he’s mine!”

“What?”  Now she had narrow eyes for Jen.

“I mean, well, he can’t get inside the magic circle like we can, so you couldn’t reach him anyway.”

The grappling demons shifted and everyone had to hustle out of the way again.

On the other side of the battle, the Hommes’s prayers were interrupted by the demons finally breaking their stillness, the alarming mounting energy around them.  Maddy shuddered and Jason felt like it but didn’t have the energy.

She said, “Daddy, I’m afraid.  When I pray I don’t feel Jesus in my heart, don’t see a light, or anything.  Is it real, or was it just dumb luck I found we both lived?”

“That’s why they call it faith, kiddo.  I don’t feel it either, but maybe if we try hard enough, things work out for the best, right?”

“God!”  She bit her fist in terror at the display of the giant grapplers.

“I got you, Baby.  I’m never gonna let you go again.”

Iphigenia said, “Yeah, I’ll kill him.  You’ll get your boys back.”  She started walking past the fight, for whatever her plan was.  Jen and Park stopped her.

Jen said, “Wait.  We don’t want any kinda demons ruling Seattle, do we?  Maybe we get we kill Bymaan first, like the detective said, and then get Abalaam.”

“Really?  I don’t care who runs Seattle.”

The wheel slowed enough for Jen and Park to see their men dangling within.  They moaned in torment.  Jen gasped and Park fell to a knee.  “JAMIE!”  Infante picked up his head just long enough to look at him sadly before the wheel sparked to life again.

During the slow moment, Bymaan had gained an advantage.  As soon as the motion began again, Abalaam shoved her back down.  Iphigenia took their reactions as license to move.

She went back to the camel and clambered up the saddle to its hump.  It cocked its head, as if in understanding of her plan, to make a perfect ramp.  She ran up its neck, over its head, and leapt over Bymaan’s crown - bringing the hammer down on Abalaam’s face.

The claw stuck in one of his eyes, and she hung there, feet on his chest.  Then he smiled and opened his eye - unharmed - releasing the hammer.  She fell down between the fighters.

Abalaam said, “Did I say you could harm me?  I might have exaggerated.”

Bymaan said, “Stop tormenting her!”  Her voice was like a lion’s roar.

Park went to the flaming wheel and tried to reach inside.  His hands were battered away, his sleeves caught fire.  Jen pulled him away and patted out the flames.  “C’mon, officer man!”

He looked at the blurred wheel.  The center was easiest to make out - a bare stomach and navel, spinning in place so fast.  “What do we do?”

Clark was sliding down the rocks on his dance shoes, angling his feet just so to minimize the friction damage.  There was a light down there in the darkness - he had to imagine it was the Queen’s hell powers.

He came out through the crack into an open cavern, lit by all kinds of magical weirdness.  But he was landing feet first on a giant flaming wheel, which was no good.

There was heat, sparks, and then a soft feeling on his heels.  He was running down the side of the wheel.  Time didn’t slow, but his mind and body went faster than he would ever have imagined possible.  Step one - realize that feeling below his show was a human body.  Step two - realize nobody would want to be inside a flaming wheel.  Step three - felt firmer, like he was touching a shoulder, or somewhere more center mass.  Step four - bend at the waist for more power.  Step five - push against that body with both feet, and all your strength.

The kick sent him sprawling toward the floor.  He doubled into a little flip and landed on his feet, sliding to a stop in front of some scared cowering people with a little flourish.

“Did somebody ask for a little razzle dazzle?”

The lady said, “God?”

A demonic roar snapped his attention to the scene behind him, before he could make sense of that bizarre question.

Infante and Sergio came spilling out of the wheel onto Park and Jen, and they all got tangled like Twister.  Amduscias snickered in horsey amusement at the spectacle, or maybe in satisfaction that the magic circle had weakened.  He pressed in harder with his horn, even more white sparks spraying out all around it.

Jen got Sergio free and took him into her lap, pieta-style, wiping his face with her hand.  “Are you…  Can you..?”  He was too dazed to respond - but he looked like he was going to live.  She smiled, even though she still had no idea what the hell was happening.

Park cradled Infante, kissed him once, passionately.  Jamie shed a tear, embarrassed for needing to be saved again, but appreciative.  From across the scene, Clark saw the kiss, and realized his snap decision had worked out famously.  Was it even possible for him to do something wrong at this point in his life?

Both demons were on their feet now, fists gripped, pushing against each other.  Clearly if one broke the circle, it was bad news.  But while they were still inside, they could do some damage to each other.

Abalaam opened his jaw too wide, and his eyes and mouth began to glow intensely, pouring terrible light over the Queen’s face.  She bowed her head and squeezed her eyes, some blood running out.

Then she opened her own mouth too wide, and her tongue lashed out - now excessively long, metallic, sharp as a razor.  It slashed at the meat of his face, neck, and chest.  Fiery orange-yellow blood began to flow from him, and more red blood from her, as her hair caught fire and skin blackened and split there.  They lost their grips on each other’s hands and crashed into each other, grasped and clawed to do their worst.

Jen said to Iphigenia, “We can take them now!” and nodded toward the demons.  Iphigenia nodded back, then went to work.  The two nephilim stepped into the magic circle ready to do some damage.

Jen did a flying double kick to Bymaan’s right leg and she slipped down to one knee, roaring in pain.  Abalaam tried to take advantage, but Ippy leapt off the ground and sunk her hammer claw into the back of his hand.  His roar was less like a lion and more like thunder, but either way, these were signs of weakness.  The fallen angels were in a bad situation.

Clark had wanted to give that Queen the business, but seeing her wounded, being stomped on by the young lady, it gave him pause.  And why was she fighting another demon, when she clearly had bigger things to worry about?  His instincts were failing him in that moment.

Bymaan grabbed for Jen and caught nothing.  The little dynamo ducked her big slow hands and sprang off her thigh to crash shoulder first into the side of her chin.  The move caught the Queen like a right cross, and she was dazed.

Iphigenia hauled herself up onto Abalaam’s arm as he tried to get a grip on her, and used it as a springboard to drive her hammer down into his skull.  She put her entire being into the move, left no energy or thought in where she would fall in the aftermath.

His face caved in like a paper bag, spraying yellow-white blood from top and bottom like a volcanic eruption.  His body staggered back to knees, then bent over backward, shooting sparks and flames like a geyser.

Everyone was too weak or confused to do a thing.  Amduscias lowered his horn and studied the battle between Jen and the Queen.  Only Infante managed to say something.

“Don’t trust...”

Park looked at him with wet eyes.  “What?”

Jen was on back of the Queen’s neck, knocking off her crown.  “Iphigenia!  We gotta get her now!”

Iphigenia looked over at Jen slowly, the bursting molten remains of Abalaam lighting her from behind.

Five minutes before, in a graveyard chamber above, the pink paper grew heavy in Iphigenia’s hand.  ...Bymaan prepareth good familiars, can raiseth the dead for a time of seven years…  What does this mean, lady?

She was in a magic circle, above the Queen looking down.  The fallen angel was small, human sized.  Some humans off to the side looked like hobbits, a unicorn like a pony.  Iphigenia understood she was in Abalaam’s place - and as giant.

The Queen looked up at her and smiled, eyes gentle, sparkling.  “You lost somebody.  Who was it?”

“She was just some kind of monster.  I don’t know.  I wish...”

“That’s even better.  Don’t you understand?”

She looked at the soft white lady in confusion, her chest heavy with feelings.  “No!  I don’t understand anything!  I’m so fucking tired.”

The Queen reached out to touch her face.  “If the person you lost was human, my resurrection powers would be useless.  Humans have a divine soul that a fallen angel cannot seal.  But a monster… She was a vampire?”

Ippy swallowed hard.  “Yeah.”

“I can restore her for a time - and you have the power to make that last.  Forever.”

Jen looked at Iphigenia wildly.  “Come on!  You can do this!”

Iphigenia said, “I want my dolly,” and leapt up, shoving Jen off the Queen’s shoulders with the flat of her hammer.

Infante screamed, “NOOOO!”

Park realized what the vision was about - too late.

The camel picked up Jen by the scruff of her shirt, and tossed her aside.  She landed roughly on the bricks by Sergio and the cops.

Clark still couldn’t bring himself to give the ladies a proper rollicking.  He shook his head in confusion, even as he came to understand what he was seeing.  Maddy reached out from behind him, her father restraining her.

“You have to do something!”

Bymaan nodded to Amduscias, smudged a line out of the magic circle with her big palm.  The unicorn stepped into the circle and laid his horn on Iphigenia.  Dark blood ran out of her contusions, lightened to bright scarlet, then nothing, as her flesh smoothed out.  She reached up a palm and shoved her jaw back into place, wincing.  The inflamed tissues immediately healed under the tender ministrations of unicorn magic.

Jen cried out, as she shook off the daze.  “Et tu, Amduscias?!”  Sergio held her back.

Bymaan’s forehead sealed and smoothed over, the burned skin falling away like scraps of paper, the blood congealing to black powder and disintegrating.  She reached out a hand to Iphigenia.  “My greatest knight.  The Cherry Hill Citadel is yours, and your prize within.”

Iphigenia choked down a sob and smiled, tears in her eyes.  She knew it was real.  Queen Bymaan had no reason to lie at that point.  She accepted the giant hand on the side of her face, and held it there.  “Thank you.”

Infante rolled his eyes up and moaned in defeat, still too weak from his captivity, not a weapon in sight.  Park held him and felt his pain.

Madison felt foolish for imagining the old man might have been god, but she recognized he was one of the super weirdos.  She yelled again, “You have to do something!”

Clark grabbed his head in frustration.  “What in heck should I do?”

Jason gently pulled Maddy back to him.  “It’s Chinatown, Baby.  There’s nothing you can do.”  Goatish angels began to pour in from above, and Maddy knew once again with a certainty - Jesus didn’t give a shit about her.

***

NEXT

-

[slapshotsandoneshots]

Chapter 8

Player: Tyler Seguin – Dallas Stars

Prompt: The next chapter in the Give Us a Chance saga. It’s a good one!

Mentions: Jamie & Jordie Benn

Warnings: Angst, Fighting, Cursing

Preview: The next two days were hard. Tyler had opened the door to all these feelings and then was nowhere to be found. You hadn’t even seen him in passing in the last two days. You couldn’t deny that you missed him.

Characters:. 2339 words.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three |

Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven |

The Masterlist is here.

Sober You really hated Drunk You right about now. You woke up in a bright white hotel room with a pounding headache. You could hardly think straight. Between the massive hangover and the replays of last night in your mind, you are lucky you crawled out of bed 

You glanced over at the alarm clock as you sat up. 10 am flashed across the face and you almost passed out again. Without your phone, you knew the search party was already out looking for you.

You groaned as you stood up and searched for your clothes. You sluggishly got dressed and reached for the in-room phone. You called a taxi and grabbed your heels. You took one last look in the mirror trying your best to fix your hair. You checked to make sure you grabbed everything and headed downstairs 

You caught another glimpse of yourself in the mirror of the elevator. This definitely looked like a walk of shame, sadly you weren’t that lucky. You ignored the dirty looks you were getting and crawled into your cab.

You told the driver the address and sunk down into the backseat, trying to hide from the bright sun.

After a long drive and a sizeable bill, you reached the house. You thanked the driver once more and got out of the cab.

You walked up the back steps and opened the sliding glass doors. Suddenly it felt like a thousand pair of eyes were upon you.

“Y/N!” ripped through your ears.

“Not so loud, please.” You pleaded.

Your family, the Seguins, and both Benn brothers were scattered around your kitchen.

“Where the hell were you?” your brother asked trying to be quiet but not hiding his anger.

“Well Drunk Y/N has such great ideas.” You rolled your eyes at yourself.

“That doesn’t answer the question…” Tyler suddenly speaks out. You look towards him. He looks beyond upset, gripping the kitchen chair in front of him, his knuckles ghostly white.

“Well Drunk Y/N, got a 300-dollar hotel room and then racked up 200 more dollars in the mini bar and room service fees.” I sigh

“I think we have seen the last of Drunk Y/N for a while.” I chuckle.

“Well thank god you’re okay at least…” Jamie started pulling you in for a hug.

“What were you thinking?” Tyler questions, anger evident in his tone.

“I just said I wasn’t. I was drunk Tyler” you respond getting angrier yourself.

“This isn’t you.” He quipped

“I’m not doing this with you now Tyler” you turned on your heels to head upstairs.

“Oh, we are doing this.” He replied quickly following you into the living room.

“It’s really not that big of a deal Tyler.”

“But it is! You worried us all! I thought something horrible happened to you!” he yelled.

You cringed at his voice. Your headache was getting worse and it was frustrating you. “Well, I wouldn’t have left in the first place if someone didn’t throw a hissy fit.

He rolled his eyes in return. “When are you going to stop pretending Y/N! You haven’t been yourself this entire summer! Jumping off boats, dancing with random guys, staying out and not telling anyone! This isn’t My Y/N!”

“There is no your Y/N! She’s long gone!” you yelled back unable to hold it in any longer.

“We both know that is not the truth!”

You sat on the couch already exhausted from the conversation. You both fell into an uncomfortable silence.

“I don’t know how to be her anymore.”

“Don’t give me that shit Y/N, you do.” He scoffed.

“Not without you…” you whispered.

He got on his knees in front of you, taking your hands. “Then why are we apart?”

“I don’t know how to be with you anymore either” you sobbed placing your head in your hands.

“Yes, you do Y/N. I love you. I made a mistake but I can’t do this anymore. I want to be with you. No, I need to be with you.”

You picked your head up. “Tyler, don’t you understand? You are always going to be this star hockey player! I will always be worried what happened will happen again. You are going to have girls flocking to you and I can’t always hold up to them. What if you change your mind? What if suddenly you decide I wasn’t worth it? I can’t lose you again. I won’t come back from that.”

The silence fell down upon you both once more. Only the sound of your sobs echoing the room.

“Then I’ll quit.”

“Wait what?” you picked you head up to look at Tyler.

“I’ll quit. I quit hockey, move back here, be with you. I would do anything for you Y/N.”

You looked at him dumbfounded. “Tyler you can’t do that.”

“If it means being with you, I wouldn’t think twice.”

“Tyler I won’t let you do that and you know it.” You answered shaking your head.

“Then let me prove it to you, please.” He begged.

You leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, I’ll always love you Tyler”

You stood up and made your way to your bedroom, leaving Tyler sitting on your living room floor.

You were both mentally and physically exhausted. You changed and fell into your bed. You were asleep the moment your head hit the pillow.

The next two days were hard. Tyler had opened the door to all these feelings and then was nowhere to be found. You hadn’t even seen him in passing the last two days. You couldn’t deny that you missed him.

It was making everything that more confusing. Maybe you were being ridiculous, you couldn’t fight the fact that you still had feelings for Tyler and they weren’t going anywhere. But apparently, Tyler was, had he left?

You sat in your bedroom, looking out the window towards the Seguin home. Tyler’s Jeep was nowhere to be found and it seemed like no one was home at all. You prayed that they hadn’t left for the summer.

You glanced into your room and your eyes caught the black box sitting in the closet. You allowed yourself to smile as you stood up and walked over to it. You ran your fingers across the top where it read Segs. You pulled the heavy box from your closet across your bedroom floor. You slowly grasped the top and opened the box. You pulled out each item reliving the memories that came with each one. It stung at first but soon the sting turned into a tingle and you couldn’t deny the butterflies once again taking residence in your stomach.

After covering your bedroom floor in memories, you smiled looking around seeing all the good times you and Tyler shared. Maybe the good times outweighed the bad?

You looked out your window, noticing the cars back in Seguin driveway. You quickly scurried to clean up what was on your floor. You ran down the stairs and out the backdoor. You didn’t even bother with shoes. You were out of breath when you reached the door of the house across the yard.

You knocked quickly, you were still mid-knock when Jackie frantically answered the door.

“Y/N, what a surprise.” She said not opening the door more than to show her face.

“Hi Jackie, Can I come in?” you asked between breaths.

“Now is not a good time.”

“Is everything okay? Is Tyler okay? I haven’t seen him around and I just wanted…” You asked suddenly concerned.

“Everything is fine Hun! Tyler just um doesn’t want to talk.” She stumbled with her answer.

“Okay, well can you just tell him I was here?” You said obviously defeated.

“Of course Hun, I will see you later.”

And then the door was closed. You stood there for a moment just staring at the door. You had never not been let in the Seguin house. You looked up at the windows. You thought you saw Jamie and Jordie in the window between the blinds but you put it off as your mind playing tricks on you. 

You turned and headed back home. Why didn’t Tyler want to talk to you? You quickly wiped the tears that were fighting to spill onto your cheeks as you slowly walked across the yard. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to find comfort.

You went inside and finished cleaning up the remnants of the box. You scooted the box back into your closet. You rummaged through your hanging clothes. Reaching the back, you found what you were looking for. You pulled the old Whalers t-shirt from the hanger. Slipping off your tank top and switching to the oversized shirt. It still had the familiar scent of your best friend.

You just laid in your bed clutching the shirt you had on. You prayed you hadn’t ruined your chance. You didn’t want it to be too late.

You didn’t realize you had fallen asleep until you woke up still clutching the shirt laid across you and the stars outside your window. You heard soft music playing and grew curious. You walked over to your window and were eyes were met with Cassidy. She waved at you and motioned for you to come down.

You walked down the stairs as the music grew louder. You slid the door open and Cassidy was already waiting for you.

“What’s going on?” You asked confused.

“Just let it happen.” She replied and handed you a sunflower. She gestured down the yard. You saw the tea candles leading down the yard towards the water.

You started following the path and soon came across the Benn brothers both wearing suits and holding sunflowers.

“Are either of you going to tell me what’s going on?” you asked with a smile.

“Nope” they answered synchronized. They handed you the sunflowers and walked off, leaving you to continue down the path.

You ran into Jackie next. She stood in a nice sundress holding a sunflower and a small box.

You looked down at your Whalers shirt and leggings. “I feel very underdressed.” You giggled giving her a hug.

“You look perfect Hun, but you are missing something.” She smiled at you lifting the box. You looked at her confused.

She opened the box revealing your charm bracelet. “I think you have been missing this for quite a while.” She reached for your wrist and you allowed her to clasp the bracelet on your wrist.

“It’s funny how we are coming full circle with this bracelet.” You quipped as you touched each of the familiar charms. She nodded and handed you the sunflower to add to your growing bouquet.

“Now go see your boy.” She pushed you towards the dock.

You reached the dock but stopped for a second before you turned the corner. You took a deep breath unsure but ready to see Tyler.

You walked onto the dock and your breath was stolen from you. The dock was covered in twinkle lights and sunflowers. Tyler was standing in the middle in that same blue shirt he wore on your first date.

“Tyler…It’s beautiful.” You stuttered.

“Nice shirt” He quipped.

You smirked. “I might have been missing you. Is this what you were doing?” you asked.

“Yes, I’m sorry that I made my mom deny you entry to the house.” He chuckled. 

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, I saw you as you walked across the lawn. I know you only hug yourself when you cry.” He went to wipe the tears you didn’t even know you were crying.

“I hope these are happier tears.”

“They are.” You smiled at him.

“So I said I was going to prove my love for you so here we are.” He gestured around you.

You walked towards water. You watched the stars reflect in the calm water.

“You didn’t have to do this, its why I came over earlier. You were right I have spent this whole summer pretending and denying my feelings. I love you Tyler and I don’t want to be without you anymore.” You said turning around to face him.

You almost fell off the dock. There was Tyler, on one knee, holding an absolutely gorgeous diamond ring.

“Tyler…”

“Y/N, I wanted to prove my love for you. I meant it when I said I would quit hockey and move back home. I would do anything to get you back into my life. And once you are there, I want you there for good. So Y/N, I don’t want you back into my life as my girlfriend. I want you back as my fiancé. Y/N, will you marry me?”

You couldn’t find words, you just nodded furiously falling to your knees in front of him.

He slipped the ring onto your finger and pulled you close. You kissed and the fireworks exploded.

You finally pulled apart and he pulled you to your feet. “Come on.”

He led you onto the boat and started it up.

“Where are we going?” you asked holding on to his arm.

“You’ll see, just promise not to jump off this time.” He chuckled.

“I’ll try” you smiled kissing him as he pulled from the dock.

You headed out on the water. You giggled as you pushed your hair out of your face. Tyler smiled at you placing another kiss to your lips. You pulled away and looked ahead. You saw the rocks above the surface. “Tyler Watch..”

But it was too late. The last thing you remember was being pulled from Tyler and being thrown into the cold water.

[mavengers]

Letters to the Editor

Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: some swearing, light mentions of sex, mostly just fluff (it’s really cute guys)

Words: 3k

All credit goes to Marvel.

Tag list: @littlewolfieposts @seargantbcky @cutecuddlycalpal @irepeldirt @its-sophia-xo-love 

AN: GUYS! This is my first fic of 2017 and I’m SO sorry I haven’t been posting, as many of you know, I was dealing with some pretty intense shit but I’m feeling well enough to resume writing. Thank you all for the love and support you guys have shown me. This is for you guys.

“What’s got you so smiley?” Clint smirked, taking a sip from his beer. Steve had been sporting the biggest smile ever since he got home from what was supposed to be grocery shopping with Bucky, who looked like he was about to go back into cryo if he heard Steve keep talking about it.

“Yeah, Stevie, go ahead and tell them all of what you told me. I’m going to take a shower.” Bucky said, turning and leaving the room. This was all Steve talked about on the way home and when Steve’s excited, he never shuts up. He looked like he was about to pee himself with how excited he was.

“Spill it, Cap.” Sam said. If there was ever a minute where unicorns and rainbows felt like they were gonna spill from Steve’s mouth and lungs, it was now.

“I’m writing a book!”

You sat back at your desk after your lunch break, hot cocoa in hand. You pulled your cardigan tighter around your chest as you recovered from the cold New York weather. Jeannie, your assistant, popped her head in. “Ms. Y/L/N?” You hummed against the lid of your cup of cocoa. “The girls want to know if you’re up for drinks after work tonight.” You nodded and smiled at her as she closed the door to your office and went back to her desk out front.

You spun yourself around in your leather office chair, lightly laughing to yourself. The girls were never going to believe this.

“You’re writing a book?” Sam asked as Clint began cackling in the back. “Dude, that is the second least cool thing for a superhero to do.”

“What’s the first?” Steve asked, his brow furrowing.

“Going grocery shopping.” Clint spoke up. Steve frowned as he turned and put his re-useable grocery bags on the countertop.

“Well I think writing a book would be cool. I got a lot of little kids looking up to me, why not give them a look into my history?”

“You sure have a lot of that.” Tony said, walking by and grabbing an apple from the grocery bag, taking a bite.

“I didn’t wash that!” Steve exclaimed. Tony paused, taken off guard by Steve’s outburst.

“I’m sorry, do you want to wash it now?”

“Did you hear…?” Your co-worker, Jamie began, leaning forward in her seat to start what you liked to call ‘gossip hour’. You took a sip of your martini and popped one of the olives in your mouth. “…Delanie from printing is hooking up with Harold?” Your olive nearly rolled out of your mouth as your jaw dropped.

“Harry? He’s married to Sophie!”

“I know. God, what a pig.” Jamie said with a look of disgust. As she sat back in her seat, another of your co-workers, Sheila, leaned forward to share.

“Well what I heard today was that someone landed a major client. Y/N, do you happen to know anything about that?” She smirked and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe his name will ring a bell? Steve Rogers?” She sounded out his name and you took a nonchalant sip of your drink again as the Jamie and Nicole gasped.

“No way!”

“You got Captain America to write you a book?!”

“I didn’t get him to write me a book! I just ran into him on my lunch break and we got to talking and he told me he was curious about writing a book!” You said innocently. You smiled when the bartender came by and topped off your martini, adding a couple extra olives, just how you liked.

You stumbled out of the bar at 1:30 in the morning, early for you. You groaned when your phone began vibrating loudly in your purse and you pulled it out, putting it between your ear and your shoulder so you could take your heels off. “Hello?”

“Oh, hey. Did I wake you?” Someone asked.

“No, who is this?” The noise of cars whizzing past you and people talking loudly from various other bars made it difficult to understand your caller.

“It’s Steve, Steve Rogers.”

“Right, Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” You smacked yourself in the face. Of course he knew your name. Why would he call a total stranger?

“Hey, uh, are you okay? It sounds like you’re on the highway.” You looked around at your surroundings. Bars with people stumbling out of them (much like yourself), busy streets, sketchy alleys.

“Uh, not exactly.”

“Where are you? It’s late and you sound like you’re in a bad part of town, let me come get you and I’ll walk you back home.”

“Uhhh… you know that bar with the fake palm trees and weird fish curtains?”

“The Pink Dolphin? That’s right down the block, I’ll be there in five minutes. Stay there.” He clicked off the line and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Captain America coming to your rescue. You were going to refuse and tell him you’d be fine and catch a cab, buutttt it is Steve Rogers offering to walk you home and it would be a decent way to talk about the book.

The cold air helped bring you back to a slightly sober state and you began spinning yourself around a street pole, nearly jumping out of your skin as an arm circled around your waist, beginning to walk with you. “You do realize you’re pole dancing in the middle of the street, right?”

“And grabbing me off the pole before saying hello was just as good of an idea?” He stopped, leaving an arm still wrapped loosely around your waist.

“Fair enough. Well, if I’m walking you home, lead the way.”

You and Steve had been walking and laughing for about five minutes now, taking your time on getting back to your studio apartment. “You know, one of these days you’re going to step on a piece of glass.” He laughed.

“Yes and I’m sure you’ll be there to come patch me up when that day comes, but come on. Have you seen these things?” You asked, gesturing to your heels. “They’re like four inches tall! These shoes are purely for decoration.”

“Okay, whatever you say, doll.” You both laughed and quieted down for a little. You stared down at your bright pink heels that dangled from your fingers. Steve’s jacket had done little to warm you since he had given it to you five minutes ago. You could feel the goosebumps raising on your legs and you couldn’t wait to get home and get into your pajamas.

“So what made you want to write a book?” You asked, breaking the silence. He looked ahead, smiling and biting his lip.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to. I want to be a bigger inspiration to the kids, you know “you can do anything if you really feel passionate about it”. Cheesy, but true.” You nodded thoughtfully, a guy who cared about kids? What a dream. “But truthfully, I don’t think I would’ve ever gotten around to it if I hadn’t bumped into you on the street the other day.” You laughed, slightly blushing.

“You mean when you made me spill hot chocolate all over a copy of James Patterson’s manuscript?” He put his hands up in defense.

“Hey, I bought you another hot chocolate, didn’t I?”

“What a gentleman.” You said and he chuckled.

“Is this you?” He asked, pointing up to the tall skyscraper in front of you. You nodded, and before you could say goodnight:

“Do you want to come up?”

The elevator ride up to the 16th floor was painfully long, especially when you had always wondered what it would be like to have sex in an elevator. You pushed your key in the lock and thanked God that you had decided to clean up for once only the night before. You couldn’t imagine Captain America in the mess that usually was your not-so-humble home.

“Wow, it’s nice in here.” Steve commented, looking around.

“Yeah, perks of being a ‘big shot editor’ as people like to call me. It’s nice, but too big for one person.” You said. “If you excuse me, I’m going to go change out of this dress that’s currently suffocating me and into something actually comfortable.” You walked into your room, nearly ripping the tight dress off of you and stripping of your stockings.

 And that was when you remembered it.

All of your laundry, including pajamas, was being dry-cleaned.

And all you had for pajamas was a Captain America onesie that you had bought as a last minute Halloween costume last year.

You mentally groaned and placed your palm on your forehead, cursing yourself. Okay, you began to rationalize, he just picked your drunk ass off the street and brought you home. He’s spilled hot chocolate all over James Patterson’s manuscript. Wearing a Captain America onesie is the least embarrassing thing either of you could do right now.

Before you knew it, the onesie was on and you were shouting to Steve who was sitting on your couch, probably wondering what was taking you so long. “You have to promise not to judge me! It’s laundry day and this is all I have!” He pulled his eyebrows together, confused.

“If all you have on is underwear, you can wear my shirt to cover yourself- oh.” He said when he saw you step out of your room, fully clad in the onesie and he bit his lip to stop the loud laugh that was threatening to come out. “You look cute.” He said, barely trying to hide his grin.

“I think I could pull off the suit better than you.” You challenged, cheekily.

“I’m sure of it.” You laughed, grabbing your laptop and sitting on the couch beside him, pulling up all your publisher’s website.

“Okay, so basically what happens is you send me a chapter or two of the book every week or so, I make corrections or add notes, send it back to you. That continues until we have a manuscript and then we send it to get published.” Steve nodded as he stared at the laptop. “Nervous?” You guessed. He nodded again. “Don’t be, it comes easier than you think. Just imagine that you are the reader. Write about what you want to read and hear about.”

“I wanna hear about you.” He said, and you couldn’t help but look down and smile, willing away a blush, but he seemed completely serious.

“Well what do you want to hear about me?” You asked. He seemed to be contemplating his questions, which unbeknownst to you, there were many swirling around in his head.

“What made you want to become an editor?” Ah. The question you had mainly only been asked at interviews or on dates with guys that you were sure weren’t listening to you after you began talking. But Steve? Steve seemed to genuinely wanna know. You shrugged.

“My mom and dad were both editors, which, while seems nice, was actually horrible. They were always fighting over clients or sneaking into each other’s offices and reading the other’s manuscripts so they could steal ideas from one another,” you paused to take a breath, and Steve was still looking at you, possibly even more curious than before. “It just sort of felt like I was destined to be an editor. In high school, they had me taking college English courses.”

“Is that why you’re single? You don’t want to risk ending up like your parents?” The question seemed to spill before he could stop it, and he grimaced, but you only laughed.

“Partly, I just try to steer away from people who are either in my profession or people who are interested in pursuing my profession,” he laughed and you smiled. “But mostly, I just haven’t met my prince yet.” He smirked to himself.

“Does it have to be a prince? Would you settle for a captain?” You felt your cheeks and ears heat up and you smirked back.

“Well that all depends.” You nonchalantly shrugged, looking away and biting your lip to hide your smile.

“On?” He raised his eyebrows.

“If the captain settles for me.” He laughed again.

Later that week, after you and Steve’s night of flirting, you were sitting at home on your laptop.  Boxes of Chinese takeout were sprawled across the coffee table and you had the evening news playing in the background. Your pin-straight work hair had been thrown haphazardly into a ponytail and your black and white Adidas joggers matched your black tank top.

You were on the last few pages of James Patterson’s new chapter when your laptop chimed, signaling an email. You switched tabs to your email and smiled when you noticed the sender was steve.rogers18@gmail.com. Attached to the email was a pdf of what seemed to be the first few chapters of his book. “Sorry, James, Alex Cross is going to have to wait a bit.”

Halfway through reading, you noticed that in addition to Captain America being a very good author, in the middle of one of his sentences, he had tucked in “dinner @ castro’s? 7:30?” You laughed, picking up your phone besides you and taking a picture of it before sending it to Steve with the caption “you’re such a dork, see you at 7:30 :)”

“It’s like I’m seeing a whole new side of you, Rogers.” Clint commented. Bucky clapped Steve across his back.

“It’s because he’s got a date.” Bucky said, proud like a father to a son at his first baseball game. A chorus of surprised sounds echoed through the conference room and Steve dramatically rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t contain his smile.

“With who? The old lady at the supermarket who always calls you ‘hot stuff’?” Sam snickered. Steve threw a pen at him, only fueling Sam’s laughter.

“Her name’s Y/N.” Bucky sing-songed. Natasha gave Steve a pointed look.

“Isn’t that your editor?” She asked.

“Oh yeah, she’s real pretty, isn’t she, Stevie?” Right before Steve could speak up and tell his best friend to screw off, your picture was pulled up over Tony’s phone.

“Y/N Y/L/N. A 26 year old editor who resides in New York City. She went to Yale and graduated top of her class. She grew up in Long Island and is an editor for famous authors such as John Green, James Patterson, and Gayle Forman.” Tony said. Steve sighed, unable to say anything as his team analyzed you.

“Rogers, I swear to God, if you fuck this up, I’m going for it.” Sam said, admiring your picture.

“Hey, can you hand me my pen back?” Steve asked Sam. His friend nodded, handing him back the pen. Steve took it in his hands, looking at it almost lost in thought, before gearing up and flinging it back at Sam.

7:30 saw you sitting neatly in a candlelit table in Castro’s. Your hair was curled, falling in perfect waves that framed your face, which was done nicely with a red lip and cat-eye liner. You had your best dress on; a black velvet dress with a plunging neckline, exposing a bit of cleavage.

The second you saw Steve, you swear your heart stopped and you nearly dropped your martini. He was wearing a red button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, tucked into a pair of neatly pressed black dress pants. He pulled out the seat across from you before sitting down. “Sorry, I’m a bit late, I know. But I have an excuse.” You urged your mind to stop focusing on his biceps and onto his words.

“Saving the day?” He chuckled.

“Unless saving the day is code for ‘being harassed by my friends’, then sure.” You laughed as you took a sip of your martini. You could feel his eyes on you, looking at you in a way that he hadn’t yet seen. He had seen lunch rush you, drunk you, editor you. He had yet to see you like this; all done up. It was all for him, and he was shamelessly loving it.

2 weeks and 4 dates later, you received another two chapters from Steve. He warned you that these two were most likely going to be the hardest to write. You didn’t know why until you opened up the pdf. In big, bold letters, at the top of the page was “CHAPTER 3: PEGGY CARTER.”

You tensed up, not sure if you were ready to hear about how great the love of his past life was. You considered sending it to Sheila or Jamie, but this was your job, and you were his editor before you were his date.

You were expecting to feel heartbroken over what he wrote about another girl, but instead, your heart fluttered. He talked about her in such a way, showcasing how strong she was and how big of a part she played in Steve’s life, and you briefly wondered if he talked about you like he talked about her. Granted, you were no Peggy Carter, but he liked you a lot. You knew that.

You especially knew it when in the bottom, right-hand corner of the page, he added a footnote.

“Peggy Carter was an amazing woman in her time. Presently, there are many other woman just as amazing and bad-ass as her. I’m lucky enough to be dating one of them. I’m also madly in love with her.”

You didn’t even realize how wide you were smiling until your cheeks began to hurt. You immediately picked up the phone, taking yet another picture and sending it to Steve, with the caption: “still a dork; but a dork that I am also madly in love with.”

[pleasurenetwork]

Stacy

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Unforgettable-Chapter One

 Also on AO3                       Special thanks to @statell​ for all your help

Chapter One

Short flouncy skirt, tight strapless top, boyfriend jacket, bare legs, high heels, curled lashes, red lipstick, and wild black hair.

“Oh my God Beauchamp, you have outdone yourself.”

“Claire! You are late for your own party! Time to go!”

“Okay, okay, let’s go.”

Claire smiled at Geillis and Laoghaire when they gushed over her outfit. The three of them were notorious fashion smashers who could not give a rip about fitting in. Her friends looked bomb tonight, very fitting for her favorite club and last night out for two years.

I will go out in style tonight, she decided.

Entering the club they heard the loud roar from friends, causing enough of a disturbance to make heads turn in their direction. Claire scanned the crowd and smiled at the good looking men, it was her weakness after all. Bodies were hugging and shots were pounded and then it was time time to dance. Claire grabbed Laoghaire and pointed at Geillis and they pushed into the center of the dance floor to get their groove on. After five songs Claire headed back to the table and was pulled into Rupert’s lap showing her a cherry in his palm.

“Lovely! Lay down your bets people, Geillis will cover up to one hundred dollars!” Geillis shot her a look and she shot one back, I got this, no worries.

Someone dropped a second cherry into Rupert’s palm and a fifty-dollar bill was slapped on the table. Claire looked up at a dreamy cowboy in a Stetson and felt her panties melt off. She smiled and took the challenge pushing both cherries into her mouth. Mister dreamy sat down and watched closely and four minutes later out came two cherries tied together. Dreamy turned them this way and that smiling at her parlor trick.

“Care to dance…miss…”

They swayed to a slow song while she took inventory of dreamy. Stunning hair and height, handsome face, but alas, she wasn’t feeling it. When he walked her back he pointed in the direction of his table and asked her to join him. Claire smiled and said maybe later. Shots came to the table and her friends toasted her as they slammed them back.

Laoghaire spoke in Claire’s ear that her cousin was here and she should say hello. She pulled Laoghaire into her lap and kissed her on the mouth before standing up to meet her kin. She was used to looking eye to eye with most men so when she saw a massive chest her eyes kept going up. Square jaw and cleft chin, yummy blue- oh my God eyes. She quickly surveyed the table and then put her arms around his neck to speak into his ear.

“I’m sorry but newcomers are required to kiss someone with dark hair and it looks like I am the only one at the table with dark hair. Let’s get this over with so you can get on with your night.”

She pulled his laughing mouth down on hers for a sensuous soft kiss that he was in no hurry to end. His arms came around her and his kiss deepened and then suddenly it was over. Claire told him that was fine and announced James was one of us tonight. Geillis started screaming it was time to dance and pulled her to the dance floor. They waved and hollered at their favorite DJ and he spun their favorites for the next hour keeping them on the floor shaking their ass.

Claire pulled Geillis back to the table before passing out from heat exhaustion. More shots were ordered and more friends came until the table had no seats left. She tapped cousin Jaime on the shoulder and motioned to his lap. He laughed and pushed away from the table so she could sit. Ooh, an unexpected delight was her short skirt being pushed this way and that by her constant twisting in Jamie’s lap. Before long she was in direct contact with the denim covering Jamie’s thigh and decided that was spectacular.

Someone produced an old Instamatic camera and the friends burned through three rolls of film, toasting and kissing each other, hugging and smiling. Because it was Claire’s going away party, most of the pictures were of her and various friends and all of those were on the lap of Laoghaire’s cousin.

She felt his hand move down her leg and she looked at him smiling.

“I have to go Sassenach, work tomorrow. I wish I could stay.”

“I get it, someone has to be responsible to remind all of us that we are hopeless miscreants. I suppose you have to take your lap with you? Alright, James.”

She kissed him and held his cheeks to keep him on her lips. The minute she broke the kiss she shot out of his lap heading for the dance floor.

It was an extraordinary night. Geillis left a bit early to pursue her new love interest and Laoghaire and Claire stumbled out to Laoghaire’s car after last call.

“Laoghaire, your staying on my couch tonight. You are much too drunk to drink alone… drive alone. Thankfully, I am with you and will keep you on the road, at least to my apartment.”

“Alright, but I’m up and out early for school tomorrow. Thank God I don’t have hangovers. Is there anything ye need help with, gettin ready to leave?”

“No sweetheart. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow to clear me for my shots, and then the shots of course, and I’m done. If I'm completely ready one day before I leave it keeps the anxiety at bay, ya know? Good night sweet one, thanks for bringing your cousin, he is a gorgeous man that one.”

Once she tucked Laoghaire in she closed her bedroom door to send a text message to Joe. He would be sleeping but he would see it in the morning.

C: Everything still super groovy? I will see you in three days, can’t wait.

Claire flopped down on her bed and fell asleep with her clothes on. It wasn’t the first time. The next morning she was racing around the apartment trying to find something to wear and finally opened some boxes to find clean clothes. Late, as usual, she pushed the UBER driver to hurry but he couldn’t find the doctor’s office. Geillis set the appointment for her but failed to mention how to get there. Flush with frustration she pulled out her phone and set the navigation. Five minutes later she stood winded at the reception desk signing the check-in sheet.

Waiting to be called, she mentally ticked items off her to-do list and remembered the last conversation with Joe.

“Very primitive Claire. Lucky if we have electricity to run the lights and sterilize the instruments. Weather is nice. Ninety degrees and ninety percent humidity.”

Since she followed him all over the globe, she wished he would be more discerning when choosing his next post. Maybe I will pick next time, she thought, two years from now when we get ready to leave. I wonder if he would follow me? I would never put him to the test. I can’t live without Joe so where he goes, I go. Hearing her name snapped her out of her daydreaming.

The nurse mumbled something about my being late for the appointment as she pulled Claire’s hips to the end of the examination table and secured her feet in the stirrups.

“I’m sorry, the UBER driver got lost. I don’t suppose the doctor can fix chronic tardiness?”

“The doctor will be in shortly Claire.”

Claire pulled her phone out of her purse and checked her messages. Typing a quick response to one of them she heard the door open and doctor washing his hands. she clicked send and looked up at what had to be a joke, a very bad joke.

“What the hell are you doing here in that white coat inching toward my business end?”

She watched the color drain from his face. He was as shocked as she was. Christ on a crutch, how did this….Geillis!

“I’m doctor James Fraser and you are here to verify no pregnancy, pap, and clear ye for shots before ye travel to… Honduras!”

“Stop! Don’t come an inch closer, please stop. This is a mistake, I need a real doctor, a better doctor, I mean a doctor I don’t know. Sorry, I have to go.”

“Sassenach, I am a professional, no need for embarrassment.”

“I hardly believe that the way you are giggling, and would you please just stand still while I think.”

“I can do better. I will see my next patient and give you some time.”

When he disappeared out the door she jumped off the table and wrapped the ridiculous fitting gown around her then paced the small room. She was so freaked out and really couldn’t think at the moment so she dialed the diabolical Geillis for help.

“Geillis! I need another doctor's appointment, today! This doctor is Laoghaire’s cousin who came to the bar last night. I can’t let him bury his nose in my cooch. Can you find another doctor…”

“Don’t be silly Claire. I see him for my yearly and he’s great, not to mention drop fucking dead gorgeous. No Claire, it's him or no one because ye wait until the last minute to do everything. Just bite the bullet and let the man do his thing.”

“Why do I feel manipulated right now?”

“It took some doing to get him to the bar last night so maybe that’s it. He is my going away present for my short term best friend.”

Claire was speechless. Geillis was right, it was her own fault. If she was going to leave in three days she had to get through this. She climbed back up on the exam table and melted into her misery.

“Sassenach, have ye decided what to do?”

He walked to the end of the table and put his elbows on her knees. “I can probably do this without lookin if that will make it easier for ye.”

Claire knew she had run out the clock and had no choice in the matter but that did not ease her humiliation. He waited patiently while she tortured through the inevitable decision to get this over with. shutting her eyes tightly she told him to hurry. I never have to see him again, she thought, he is a stranger to me.

“Hurry please.”

It was over in a matter of minutes and doctor Fraser was pulling his gloves off and wishing her well. The door clicked shut and she was alone to dress and get the hell out of there.

On her way home, she considered how few men in the world were truly handsome, fewer still were those with a body you wanted to bounce off of. The rarest of this small, endowed group were those with a good heart. The triple threat as it were. Doctor James Fraser was a triple threat and she wanted a second helping before disappearing into the jungle for two years. She leaned back in her seat and asked the driver to push up his speed. She needed to call Laoghaire and ask a favor.

Claire looked at her buzzing phone and smiled at the caller ID.

“Miss Beauchamp this is doctor Fraser.”

“Oh please, call me … whatever it is you call me.”

“The message says yer havin complications from the procedure today.”

“Yes, complications, what should I do?”

“Can you explain what’s amiss, do ye have pain?”

“Not yet but I’m afraid that may be happening soon.” She held her breath and waited.

When he spoke again his voice sounded softer and more interested. “I dinna want to send ye into the jungle with unresolved health issues Miss Beauchamp. Perhaps ye would meet me for dinner to discuss the problem. I believe that is best at this stage.”

“Do you mean tonight doctor?”

“For tonight I need a promise of a short skirt and high heels and ye agree to cheer my team to victory in the playoffs.”

There was silence on the line and Claire was breathing from open lips. She heard his deep voice, “can that be arranged Sassenach?”

“That would be fine I suppose. Where is the game, I will be cheering from the stands.”

She wrote quickly and ran to the shower before plowing through her boxes for a short skirt as requested by the good doctor.

She was late getting to the game because she was late for everything. Walking toward the bleachers she saw the doctor’s impressive ass as he bent in a huddle with his players. Claire was amazed at the little people hanging on his every word. He broke the huddle and scanned the crowd quickly. His head snapped back to black combat boots, bare thighs, and a short skirt. She waved and smiled, calling out “GO…” oops, she leaned toward the lady next to her and shouted “Wolverines!!”

Claire was in her fan zone, having a great time. When doctor Fraser’s team was running the ball toward the goal she was on her feet cheering them on. With less than two minutes left in the game, Jaime pulled in a fresh player and spoke into his ear as he nodded his head. He shot a look at Claire catching her biting her nails, wide-eyed. Jamie managed to look at his player in time to call a code they had practiced a thousand times and the team came together in a formation that broke all the rules of the game.

His new player kicked the ball hard into an area without players as a teammate was running to take possession. Once the ball was securely underfoot the kid passed the ball to a teammate who specialized in high-flying aerial kicks. The player ran for the goal, twisting just a foot from the goalie and looking into the sky as the ball came down like a rocket. He kicked it into the net and the stands erupted. The kids on Jamie’s team almost exploded on the field. With wide eyes and huge smiles, they searched the crowd for their coach, to say, oh my God it worked, you were right, sorry we doubted you.

Jamie strode to the coach of the opposing team with his outstretched hand and a humble smile. He was aware of the all too rare moments to demonstrate sportsmanlike behavior. Claire scanned the field for his clump of kids and smiled at their jubilation. As Jamie walked back they ran to him clamoring for his attention. Claire watched their mouths closely, “thank you, coach,” “You were right coach,” “sorry I was an asshole coach.” Claire thought she had a handle on the situation and she stood in the stands and smiled down at this handsome man.

Jamie was shaking the hands of the parents and smiling as he tried to extricate himself from the well-wishers. His gaze was stuck on the smiling Claire and one of the fathers figured it out.

“Is lovely legs your post-game party Fraser?”

Jamie looked at him dubiously, “somethin like that.”

Like Moses parting the red sea, the man cleared the bodies between Jamie and the bleachers and stopped several kids from going after him.

Claire sat in the bleachers and watched him approach with a smile for the hero. Jamie took inventory of her frilly feminine skirt, lace-up trench boots, ribbed wife-beater, jeans jacket, red lipstick, a bit of mascara, and those amazing eyes.

“Ye were the best fan we ever had Sassenach. Can I rent yer services?”

“Yes, of course. I’ve always fancied myself a professional fan.” As she walked down the stairs her skirt popped up above her thigh with each step. Jamie was transfixed watching the feminine lace and army boots under it. She stayed a stair above him and laid her arm across his shoulders as her lace bounced. Jamie liked the feeling of a woman’s arm up there and having to look up to see her face.

“I like yer boots Sassenach”

“Christ, my apologies. You asked for high heels but I couldn’t find any in my boxes and I was already late. These are standard issue for where I’m going with the traveling nurses program. I hope you’re not disappointed, Jamie.”

She bounced down to the ground level and looked up at Jamie who studied her inch by inch. Claire felt a wave of arousal move through her and Jamie saw the millisecond she gave into it.

He looked into her eyes and saw a free spirit, playful and vulnerable, yet honed by something big. Somehow she chose to forget her embarrassment of that morning because it suited her to do so and then she set her cap for a bit of fun with him. He was truly honored this beauty would choose him.

“Will ye feel safe on my couch for five minutes while I shower and change?”

“That depends. Will you be feeding me tonight?”

“Absolutely, anything ye like.”

“I like whisky and fine hors d'oeuvres”

“Perfect, me too.”

Claire decided Jamie Fraser smelled like heaven when he was clean and she kept pushing her nose into his neck to breathe deep. Jamie watched her skirt rise higher on her thigh and relished the intense arousal of having her mouth so close to his neck. They hit five of Edinburgh’s best for shellfish, aged beef, sushi, greek, and Mandarin. It was in the Mandarin restaurant that she gave up her side of the booth to sit across his lap and feed him delicacies with expert use of chopsticks. One bite followed by a kiss and Jamie’s hand found it’s way to her knee and then higher.

“I am so stuffed I don’t think I can walk but let's try. I knew you would be so fun to go out with. Thank you for agreeing, I had the most wonderful time.”

Claire decided to satisfy her curiosity. She would not be coming back to Edinburgh when her commitment was up and would never see any of these people again, including Jamie Fraser. She clutched his arm as they walked to his car.

“Why did you choose a career in pussy?” She leaned into his ear, “do you love it that much?”

He looked at her genuine interest and smiled. “I love bairns and families as well as female reproduction. It is very rewarding to see a woman through her pregnancy safely and catch the baby she has wanted all her life.”

“That is totally sweet but how do you deal with the jealous husbands when your face is buried between her legs under a sheet?”

Jamie cleared his throat uncomfortably, “I have not thought of it that way Sassenach.”

“I have thought of little else.”

She pulled his arm around her waist and stood on tiptoes to kiss him. His kiss was soft and exploratory as he touched her face and looked into her eyes. She tried again using her tongue and hoping he would give in to his brutal side. That is the orgasmic side where the party starts. She had no need or comfort with the emotional side. It scared her, it was needy, it would want to plant her somewhere and grow her into a smaller version of himself. She tried it a couple of times and decided that life was not for her.

“We should get going. I have two days before I leave and a week of work to do.” When they were at her door Jamie asked why she invited him out tonight. He liked her and didn’t understand her sudden distance.

“To see that awesome game, eat exotic food, drink the best whisky, and fuck. I have a desire for you that is completely carnal. Before she could get her key in the lock Jamie grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled her head back to receive his crushing kiss. He licked from her collar bone to her mouth making her groan. Pulling her up he felt her legs go around his waist and grind down on him.

While they were otherwise distracted, a male neighbor walked toward his apartment next door feasting on the erotic dance happening in front of Claire’s apartment. Jamie rolled his eyes at the stranger and said move along as best he could with Claire’s tongue in his mouth.

Jamie took her keys and opened the door tripping over a box directly in his path. He spun in midair so he would land on his back taking most of the impact. He looked up at Claire straddling him, “I want ye lass.”

“Well, we finally agree. I believe you are already acquainted with my pussy, care to return the favor handsome?”

Before the night was up Claire would experience the lethal combination of a strong finger rubbing her G-spot while a wicked tongue flicked, soft lips sucked, and nipples were pinched. Jamie reclined on her headboard with a fistful of Claire’s hair guiding her mouth to his balls and then telling her to open her mouth as he exploded down her throat.

When Jamie could breathe again he looked at Claire and recognized the signs of a booty call. Fidgety, suddenly silent, and glancing at the clock. This was the worst part of casual sex for Jamie. No warmth, vacant eyes, an empty heart, and guilt he had done it again.

“Your a beautiful girl Sassenach, will ye be comin back to Edinburgh when yer tour is up?”

“No.”

Jamie shook her hand, “I wish ye all the best miss.” He grabbed his jacket and left without another word. He had zero respect for women like Claire who buried their heart in concrete and just disconnected from their emotions. A man was just like a job to them. Some were amazing and fun and others were drudgery but she got an orgasm paycheck after which she enjoyed her freedom and answered to no one.

He stared at the road ahead, hating his sexual need that put him in this mood time after time. He dated two girls in college that were in love with him but they could not compete with medicine. He thought about them often, the way they would hold him, run their fingers across his skin, kiss him breathless while being so fragile. They made him feel like Hercules but his plan did not include commitment at that stage so he ultimately hurt them and moved on.

Jamie dropped into his bed and thought about Claire in the dark. She was exotic and beautiful, daring and spontaneous. Most women were so afraid of saying the wrong thing they didn’t say much at all, forcing him to pry each word from their mouths. Those dates were uncomfortable and regrettable as he shook their hand and said goodnight. Not with Claire. When her mouth opened it was anybody’s guess what was coming out and he loved it. He loved her free spirit and her ability to accept each moment as it came taking everything she could from it. The bold initiation kiss at the bar was so Claire. He smiled in the dark remembering her demand for a kiss because he was a newcomer. Claire decided what she wanted in each moment and then asked for it. Why couldn’t all women own their power that way? He slept fitfully, dreaming of the wild and beautiful Claire Beauchamp.

Claire watched the door close behind the handsome doctor and felt very strange about the way he left. His sudden distance and shaking her hand, calling her miss. What the hell was that all about? Why did he opt out of intercourse? It was the closest she would ever come to couples love when two people were heart to heart clinging to each other. She wished for that brief moment of pretend with him and her neediness for it surprised her. She wondered if she had made an enemy tonight. Why did she care? She would never see these people again and if Jamie felt bad about a romp with her that was his problem. She got up and headed for the shower.

Feeling fresh and clean Claire wrapped up in her favorite robe and made Chamomile tea to fight off her anxiety. She opened her book but her thoughts kept going back to the date with Jamie. He was such a gentleman and made sure she was having fun all evening. She told him about following her best friend Joe from post to post with traveling nurses. She watched his eyes get dark and mentioned Joe was a devout gay man. She wondered what his reaction was. The disappointment she was attached or annoyance he was pursuing another man’s woman? She would never know. When she sat on his lap and fed him mandarin delicacies he looked at her like she was the only woman in the world. Christ, that’s it! He charmed me and I am feeling the residual of that eye contact and arousal.

“Jesus Christ, it’s one in the morning and I have got to get some sleep.”

Claire laid in her bed and kept her nose to the pillow he used. That amazing scent was with her in her dreams all night and by morning she knew what had to be done.

Jamie dragged himself to the field for the last game of the playoffs. His team was psyched to win and he was yawning. Not a great start and he shook his head to clear it. With the game underway and a very skilled opposing team, he was struggling to stay motivated.

Jamie jumped up when his team took the ball and ran it toward the goal. They needed a goal and he held his breath. As he watched every player move the ball down the field he heard a familiar whistle and voice shouting “go wolverines!” He looked in the stands and there she was, his almost perfect date. He smiled at her and felt his heart ramming in his chest. What is wrong with you Fraser, he thought. She will rip your heart out and jump on a plane.

Claire watched his eyes and saw his interest so he didn’t hate her completely. What she was doing there was anyone’s guess as she didn’t know herself. Looking online earlier she saw the playoff schedule and just showed up to cheer them on. The Wolverines scored and Claire launched to her feet calling out the player numbers that rocked. The average age of the team was fourteen and there was enough testosterone flowing through them to notice her short skirt and pretty legs. Normally Jamie would notice a shift in the energy of his team but he was under her spell as well.

When he couldn’t stand the distance anymore Jamie climbed the stands and she offered her hand. He looked at the eyes he had missed all night.

“Nice surprise Sassenach.”

“Well, you did ask me to cheer for your team and I love the little buggers, playing so good tonight.”

“I appreciate the support. I wish I could sit up here with you but I can’t.”

“What would happen if I sat down there with you?”

He held out his hand and walked her down the stands to sit on the field with him. He gave her tidbits of history on the prominent players and noticed she never took her eyes off the kids. It honestly looked like she was enjoying the game instead of waiting for a chance to have his attention.

Claire could not read Jamie’s energy and wanted to ask if he was happy she came. What do I friggin care, she wondered. Get your head on straight with mister gorgeous. You are here to exorcise him from your head and that is it. Tomorrow, Honduras, and two years of hard work with Joe, I can’t wait, so why am I here again?

The game ended, Jamie’s team won with one game left to play for the state championship. The kids were so excited and blushed fiercely when Claire mentioned how well they played. She gave out smiles like they were free and the kids were eating them up. Jamie noticed many of the parents watching her as well. He felt a moment of pride that she was with him and then mentally kicked himself for thinking that. By the time they could extract themselves he was mentally exhausted.

“What time is yer flight tomorrow?”

“Not until two in the afternoon.”

Jamie looked at her skirt and remembered running his hand under a similar garment and touching her round ass and flat stomach. Her lovely core was shaved clean and glistened with interest. He shook his head again.

“Well, what would you like to do Sassenach. Since ye didna run to an UBER after the game I ken you need my attention. How can I help ye?”

Jamie cringed at the harsh sound of his statement and noticed a flicker of insecurity in her eyes. He wanted to take her places she would never forget but he couldn’t and being this close to her was making him a little crazy.

“To be honest, I don’t know. Can I fix you dinner and just talk to you for a while?”

“Home cooking?”

“Oh, yea, I gave my entire kitchen to charity so we have to do it at your house. That is if you want me to cook for you.”

As wonderful as she was, Jamie was not in the mood for another sexual encounter that would make him feel like shit all day tomorrow. He looked at her beautiful eyes and missed her already.

“I am big on honesty Sassenach. Tell me what ye want from me tonight.”

When he saw her blush his heart melted right in his chest.

“I’m rather good at forgetting people but it didn’t work this time. To be honest, I don’t want to take my infatuation to Honduras, I fear it would be very hard to live that way, missing you. I am poison to relationships, that’s why I don’t have them anymore, so this will be a favor to you as well.”

“Like a dual exorcism ye mean.” Jamie held her soft hand and looked up at the sky. “I would be happy to help but I have no food to cook.”

“I will pick up some groceries while you take a shower. It won’t take me any time at all.” She ordered an UBER and kissed his cheek.

Jamie laid on the couch for ten minutes to rest and question his motives in allowing this tonight. She seemed so genuine and her honesty impressed him. She wanted to learn enough to forget him after tonight and resume her heartless life. Well, he could say the same about her, he decided, so stop thinking and get in the shower!

Claire let herself in and admired the trendy apartment once more. It was the perfect bachelor pad for a young, single, handsome doctor. She rolled her eyes at the thought of how much action he got here followed by the same argument she had with herself all day. What do you care, he probably gets a lot of pussy and more power to him.

Jamie emerged from his shower letting the aromas of food fill his lungs. It was not something that happened often and he enjoyed knowing she was here in his kitchen. He opened his mouth to say something and realized she was dancing with her earbuds in. She held a large salmon to her chest and slow danced with it, her head back, eyes closed, having a moment with the fish. Jamie felt a scary shift in his existence wishing he had not seen it. Then she freaked out and dropped the fish.

“Sorry, when I turned around and saw you it shocked me. Good thing I hadn’t taken the fish out of the package. See, floor is still clean.”

“What are ye makin Sassenach?”

“Your favorite, Salmon, with asparagus and baby red potatoes, which doesn’t sound Scottish by the way.”

“I spent a year at Columbia during my medical training and learned to enjoy the healthy foods they eat. Of course, nothin can replace bangers and mash but it will put ye in an early grave.”

Jamie pulled out two glasses and filled them with a very special whisky. He watched Claire’s face as she rolled it in her mouth and swallowed with a smile.

“I better get the fish ready before I start dancing with it again.” Another blush.

They talked about their lives, growing up, college and working in their chosen career. She told Jamie about her parent's death at age five, growing up with Uncle lamb in the farthest reaches of the globe and coming back to civilization at sixteen years old.

“I didn’t fit in very well at first. When I started nursing school I met my friend Joe Abernathy and we have been joined at the hip ever since.”

“What would happen if Joe settled somewhere and quit traveling?”

“Then I would work there and probably start being responsible. Saving money and stuff like that. “If you own an estate in the country why do you live here?”

“My sister Jenny lives there with her husband. It’s too far away to be called to the hospital in the middle of the night to deliver a baby.”

“You have been practicing medicine for three years and you are thirty-three? Did you want to be an astronaut but couldn’t make the cut? Seriously, what were you doing from eighteen to thirty-three?”

���Seven years of university and medical school. The rest of the time I was earning money for my education.”

Jamie thought about telling her the truth. It was something he would do if she were not leaving the next day forever. He ached to tell her everything but that was absolute folly. Even if she were madly in love and camped out on his doorstep, the odds she would accept who he was during those missing years were stacked against him.

The conversation continued through dinner and dishes, each taking turns describing their lives up to this point. Jamie poured two Drambuie over crushed ice and invited her to sit on the sofa.

“That was a delicious dinner Sassenach, thank you so much.”

“My pleasure. I love this drink, what is it?”

Jamie watched her amazing eyes as he described the drink is made from Highland Heather honey and scotch. Very sweet and perfect after dinner. She watched him talk and her face revealed her inner struggle to get past this infatuation with him.

“How are you doing Claire? Are ye feeling better? Ready to get to Honduras tomorrow?”

She walked on her knees across the couch and pushed her face into his. Jamie breathed her in wanting so badly to touch her but he couldn’t. Claire held his cheeks and looked into his eyes.

“I’m a hopeless mess, it’s not better, I don’t know why I am crushing on you so badly. If I wasn’t leaving tomorrow I would ruin this relationship in a couple of months because that’s what I do.”

Her mouth was so close to his he could feel her breath on his lips. She wasn’t letting go of his face so he kissed her. It was enough to touch her lips with his so he kept it light and struggled not to crush her to him.

Claire was feeling the energy from his kiss. He moved them into a comfortable kissing position and they just kissed and enjoyed the close proximity.

“This reminds me of high school when we would kiss for an entire afternoon,” she giggled.

“Is this helping Sassenach?”

“I don’t know because I can’t remember what we ...”

She kissed him halfway through the sentence so it took some time for her to say it. Jamie could feel his resolve slipping and he held her tighter as he deepened the kiss. Sending them both into the higher plane of arousal.

“Sassenach.” He held her cheek and brushed his thumb across her lips. It is borderline torture at this point. Are ye feelin better?”

He watched her deer-in-the-headlights look and he loved her vulnerability. She was soft and sensual, giving into her crush and delighting him with every kiss. Jamie took a deep breath and pulled himself off the couch. He took a long sip of his drink and watched her fuss with her clothing that had shifted with their kissing.

“Well, I should go.”

“Thank ye for makin dinner Sassenach.”

She stopped and looked up at him. “Why do you call me that?”

“It’s… yer British accent. Sassenach means outsider.”

“I see.” Her wide eyes were telling him a story of her fear that she would miss him and that it would hurt. Her vulnerability was killing him and he threw caution to the wind and kissed her again. No more push back, his hands explored her body again until he picked her up and carried her to his bed. His kisses were intense and she was panting his name while pushing his shirt up. Jamie shook his head hard and stayed her hands.

“I will see ye to your car or ye can stay all night with me, it’s yer choice mo chridhe.”

She pulled her shirt off and pulled his head to her. She hated sleeping with other people in the bed but sacrifices had to be made and she believed this would solve her problem.

Jamie took his time. Removing each piece of clothing followed by kissing and tasting the newly exposed skin. He pulled his shirt off and felt her nakedness against him, and kissed her some more, wanting this to last as long as possible. When he entered her they both groaned with the exquisite feeling. He watched her eyes and kept his strokes slow and deep. She arched her back and ground her pelvis into his thrusts, pushing her legs farther apart. “Harder Jamie, right now.” Jamie picked up his speed and felt a pleasant bump in his arousal. Claire grabbed his face and pulled it within an inch of hers. She was panting and looked him straight in the eye.

“I know what you want, I want it to. I say we exit Sunday school and fuck like champions. Let it go, baby. If I say, uncle, I stay for another month. Jamie was too close to his orgasm and this opportunity would not be wasted. He got up and ordered her to stay as she was. He dropped his body within an inch of hers and pressed his forehead to hers.

“I’m takin a shower so we can start over lass. You can opt-out of this and just turn on yer side and I will spoon ye to sleep. It’s a wise choice. Stay in this position and I will rock your world.”

Jamie grabbed a tie on his way back to the bed. He was smiling and excited she had not opted for sleep. Once the blindfold was on he spun her into an erotic tornado with his tongue, and fingers, pulling her so high and placing light kisses on her breasts and stomach while she floated back. Jamie twisted her beautiful body into positions of extreme pleasure and brutal penetration making her come again. Just before his release, he spun her back to face him and removed the blindfold. He kissed her deeply and watched her eyes as he thrust into her soft wetness before going rigid in his release.

“My God yer fun. No ‘uncle’ so ye must sleep mo chridhe, yer plane leaves in twelve hours.” He pulled her into his chest and pulled the quilt over them. Ordinarily, this position would shoot Claire right out of bed and out the door, no matter what she promised. Tonight, she felt comfortable and drifted off to sleep. Throughout the night, Jamie would reach for her and pull her back to him, running his hand up her leg or down her arm before falling asleep again.

Jamie’s eyes opened at five in the morning, his automatic wake up before his rounds started at six. He tried to pull his arm out from under Claire without waking her but she moved into him and threw her leg around him. Not a word was spoken. He pushed into her body and savored every moment, knowing he was falling in love, and she would never come back. When he emerged from the shower, she was gone.