#casually or earnestly or awkwardly. its such a beautiful thing

[manwithoutaspleen]

I think “the closet” is a useful phrase and idea but I think that “the” sometimes hides the fact that there isn’t just one closet, there’s a closet in every relationship. And like. Straight people have a hard time with this because they aren’t aware of these closets, but they CAN sense it presently, directly or indirectly, and THAT alone can make them uncomfortable, even if they’re generally ok w gay or whatever.

But for us, we also are rarely entirely one or the other. For a lot of people, they’re out in some contexts, and not others. And the balance of who you are out to and who you aren’t and all those reasons makes SUCH a difference in your relationship to queerness, and how you perceive it.

Many interesting ways to have these gender and sexuality things. You can see how your upbringing can play such a role in how you perceive and identify yourself because a lot of gender and sexuality IS about how we relate to other people. That’s as much a part of it as our innate senses of self, which I DO also think is important.

But people with very similar feelings about their transition goals or preferred terms or their ideal partner, all kinds of things that make up our identity as queer people, and come to very different identities for themselves. And I think that’s one of the most beautiful things about the queer community! We have so much in common, and we are free to explore and understand so much of ourselves, and then we share that with each other!

[be11atrixthestrange]

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Here’s an angsty DH tent fic I wrote for @voldemorts-tap-shoes! Enjoy some passive-aggressive romione flirting! And special thanks to @remedial-potions for organizing the 2020 HPRomione Discord Secret Santa Exchange! (And for writing my summary!)

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Summary: Ron's journey as he seeks forgiveness from Hermione upon returning to the horcrux hunt, and how a certain maroon jumper brings them together.

******

-December 26th, 1997-

Ron was almost to his bed when he nearly tripped, but luckily he steadied himself against the frame before he could actually fall. Thank Merlin he did, because he could sense her watching him from her position on the sofa, and there was no need for her to see him making a fool of himself— again. He crouched down to see what his foot had caught on, only to discover his old, worn-out jumper.

The tent could only block so much of the icy wind from outside, so stumbling upon his warm jumper was a relief. He was anxious for a change of clothes, but most of his warmer things were still in Hermione's bag, and there was no way she would let him dig around in it just yet. Ron was quickly coming down from the adrenaline rush of destroying the locket, and his awareness of the cold grew stronger with every misty breath he could see leaving his lips. He pulled the jumper over his head just as his teeth started to chatter.

There was something peculiar about the jumper. Not only did it appear to have been recently washed, but it also smelled different than he remembered. Although distinct, it was still familiar enough that he could name it— oak and vanilla. Easy, and not because he was particularly gifted at identifying scents, but because he had already spent significant effort trying to decipher that exact aromatic component in Slughorn's Potions class last year. The Hermione-ness of Amortentia— and now his jumper— was what confirmed his attraction to her— it was warm, cozy, and inviting. The irony of that was not lost on Ron, considering Hermione's current position on the sofa, looking as frigid and inhospitable as the winter storm outside.

The only reason he didn't bring the jumper with him when he left was that Hermione had been wearing it. When they were first on the run, he would offer it to her whenever she looked cold, and by the time he left, she was accustomed to borrowing it on her own. She sat bundled up with a blanket and The Tales of Beedle The Bard, and the jumper she wore instead of his didn't look nearly as warm. Compared to his, it looked awkwardly small on her, which gave her the appearance of a disgruntled goldfish angrily bobbing inside her too-small fishbowl. Clearly, Hermione had worn his jumper much more recently than the night he left, and the thought filled Ron with hope. Maybe there was still a part of her that didn't want to be angry. Maybe he was wrong to assume they'd never recover from this.

That hope helped keep him warm when he stumbled into bed, cold and hungry, but more content than he'd been in a while.

-January 1st, 1998-

The harsh cold persisted over the next few days, effectively undermining any allusions of the tent's hospitality. Unwilling to expose his skin to winter's aggression for more than a few seconds, Ron rarely took off his jumper, and it's comforting warmth was starting to fade into something strictly physical. He should have been sleeping in preparation for his own watch shift, but he couldn't— so he sat on his bed where he could see Hermione bundled up at the tent entrance, keeping watch and looking miserable. She was shivering underneath a heavy pile of blankets and conjuring up her bluebell flames for warmth. Like it did from her body, the icy air greedily extracted any heat from the mug of tea that sat beside her, its contents escaping into a thick ribbon of steam.

He was still enduring Hermione's silent treatment, and he expected he would have to for a while longer. This particular method of punishment was all too familiar to him, and he knew he'd have to ride it out, but in order to respect her boundaries, he had to figure out where they were. He slid off of his bed and grabbed an extra blanket from his bunk before making his way toward the opening of the tent, determined to uncover exactly where Hermione had drawn the line.

If she heard him approaching she didn't show it. Instead, she kept an intense owl-like focus on the woods outside. He laid the blanket next to her and carefully sat down, making sure to set a respectable distance between them, to avoid earning himself an extension of her silent treatment.

"Hi," he said brightly.

She didn't answer, but he saw her eyebrows knit together slightly, and that counted as an acknowledgment for him.

"I've always loved those flames," he continued. "You're good at them."

Silence.

"I could never get them right," he pressed on, hoping a little bit of flattery would soften her up. "And they don't stay warm when I do it."

Hermione sighed and turned to look at him. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Talking to you."

"Yeah, well. Please don't," she said before turning away again.

"I really missed you," he said, a little more earnestly this time. With Hermione, honesty was a great choice when it flattered her.

Hermione shrugged. "Good."

Ron couldn't help but chuckle at her nonchalant answer. To him, it was a clear confession that her silent treatment was intentional, which meant it required effort to keep up. Hermione's scowl that she hadn't been expecting him to laugh.

"You should really be in bed," she said.

"I know," he said. "I can't sleep. And you looked like you could use some company—."

She groaned, dropping her face to her hands in frustration. "You're infuriating. I'm trying really hard not to talk to you. Can you please just give me some space?"

Her clear confession wasn't nearly as satisfying as her accidental one. He had already given her weeks of space, and never wanted to let that happen again, but he held his tongue. A line had been drawn. "I'm sorry. I can leave you alone. If that's what you really want."

"It is," she said.

Ron's heart sank— talking to her was the only way he could confidently win her forgiveness. Her attention turned back to the woods, and Ron could almost feel the wall she had built restraining him. "Is that really what you want?"

"Oh my God, Ron," she said exasperatedly. "Stop talking to me."

"Ok, ok," he said as he stood up. Then he reached for the hem of his jumper and pulled it off.

"Now what are you doing?" she asked.

"You seem cold. I'm giving you my jumper."

"I don't want it."

Ron held it out to her anyway, but she shook her head. "Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"Ok then. I'm off to get some beauty sleep," he joked, tucking the jumper under his arm.

"Like you need it," he heard her grumble.

He whipped back around to face her, his face brightening into a smile. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," she stammered. "Just that you said you couldn't sleep, and that's probably because you got more than enough rest at Bill's. Unlike Harry and I."

Ron grinned at her infuriating redirection— she was always an expert at churning his own words around to remind him of his wrongdoings. It kept him on his toes, pissed him the hell off, and was one of his favorite things about her. "Well, that's disappointing. For a moment I thought you were calling me beautiful."

She turned away from him, and Ron thought he caught a reluctant smile on her face. He had his own version of her little game.

"Goodnight Hermione," he said as he turned back toward the bedroom.

She didn't respond, but that's ok. He didn't expect her to.

-January 15th, 1998-

Ron awoke in the middle of the night to a crisp and howling wind. He opened his eyes to see a shivering Hermione sitting up in bed, digging around in her bag. She huffed when she couldn't find anything warmer, and dropped her bag to the floor. Ron's stomach sank, knowing she was so cold, but he also knew that she'd most likely reject his offer to wear his jumper, so he remained silent. She gathered her blanket around her and stumbled off her bed toward the loo, dragging the billowing bedding behind her like a cloak.

Ron figured that Hermione rejecting his jumper was just spiteful stubbornness, and she'd happily wear it against his knowledge. Now alone in the room, he sat up, removed it, then tossed it casually on the floor somewhere between his bed and hers. When he heard the bathroom door open, he quickly dove back underneath his covers, hiked the blankets up to his neck, and assumed a credible sleeping position.

She reentered the room, tugging her blanket along, and nearly tripped when she stumbled into the jumper.

He heard her groan before muttering, "lumos."

Ron cracked his eyes open to observe, making sure to keep the rest of his body perfectly still.

"Ronald," she whispered to herself. "He never puts his stuff away." She crouched down to pick it up and glanced cautiously in his direction.

Ron closed his eyes when she turned to him, this time letting out a muffled— hopefully convincing— snore.

When he heard Hermione crawl back into her bed, he opened one eye to observe again. Luckily, she wasn't even paying attention to him. She sat in her bed, bundled her blanket, holding Ron's jumper in her hands. It looked like she was considering putting it on, and Ron couldn't help but picture her making a pro and con list in her mind about wearing it.

Pro: It smelled like him. Or was that a con?

Con: He might see her wearing it. But maybe that was a pro?

She shook her head as if to erase any hesitations, and slipped the jumper over her bushy hair, which erupted through the neck hole like a volcano. The oversized sleeves dangled lazily off her hands, reminding Ron of the time Harry had lost all of the bones in his arm. The hem bundled and bunched at her hips, and the waist was big enough to hide a second Hermione, yet for some odd reason, it still appeared to fit her better than her own jumper. No longer shivering, she settled back into her blanket, closed her eyes, and smiled softly. He turned onto his side, the same grin etched across his face, and settled back into sleep.

-January 30th, 1998-

The following morning, Ron had discovered his jumper crumpled up on the floor near his bed. Hermione had never returned something unfolded before, and Ron smiled at her attempt to make it seem like she never wore it. He imagined her precariously placing his jumper on the floor so that it looked just careless enough to throw Ron off her scent.

It became their new routine. Every night he would place his jumper somewhere on the floor between their beds, and every morning he would find it again, somewhere else but nearby. And every morning, without fail, he'd put it on and catch a hint of his amortentia, which was growing stronger by the day.

On this particular morning, Ron left the bedroom to find Hermione reading on the sofa, buried in her blanket.

"Morning," he said softly.

She didn't answer, but that was ok. He still didn't expect her to. She did, however, look up from her book momentarily to acknowledge him. Progress.

"I'm making tea. Would you like some?"

Again she was silent, but she smiled and nodded.

With two swift flicks of his wand, Ron conjured up some water in the kettle, and ignited a fire on the stove. Hermione had turned her attention back to her book, content to ignore him, as was their routine. This time her expression remained friendly, and the wall between them felt a little less icy.

It had been just over a month since his return, and although they rarely spoke, he had learned that they didn't really need to speak to communicate. He knew her facial expressions and could read her emotional state with ease. He could tell if she wanted space by the way her eyes focused intently on her book, his greeting eliciting no reaction whatsoever. Recently it didn't seem intentional or pointed, but any attempts to pull her out of that collie-like focus would fail. He knew she was open to an interaction when she placed herself on the edge of the sofa, making room for him, and read distractedly with a bookmark in hand, ready to be used should Ron have something more interesting to talk about. And sometimes, her exaggerated yawns and pointed looks before she went to bed hinted that she wanted him to leave his jumper on the bedroom floor. Accidentally, of course.

The climate between them had improved in more ways than one. They were short on space, and they couldn't avoid close contact. Sometimes they'd touch each other when passing, or rummaging around in the kitchen. At first, she would whip her hand away if it unexpectedly brushed his, but recently, if they made contact she'd linger. It happened more frequently too, but just like leaving his jumper out for her, he didn't dare make those moments look intentional. Every touch was an accident, and they were very clumsy.

But of course, he wanted more. Every morning when he put that jumper back on, it felt almost like a hug. He couldn't just hug her, so instead he looked forward to the closest thing he could get, and wondered if she felt the same when she stole his jumper every night.

When the water boiled, he poured two cups of tea. One with cream and two sugars, and one black. Hermione looked up when he approached and smiled warmly as he handed her the tea.

"Did I get it right?" he asked hopefully, even though he knew he did.

"Yes," she said. "Thank you."

They settled back into a comfortable silence. The blistering cold of the last few weeks had finally loosened its grip. Ron was sitting directly in a sunbeam, and his jumper suddenly felt unnecessary.

He caught Hermione's attention when he sat up abruptly, and pulled it over his head. "What?" he asked.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked, tightening the blankets around her.

"Nah, it's quite warm in the sun, actually," he said, playfully toying with his jumper. "Why, are you cold?"

Sighing, she leaned back and crossed her arms. Ron had to resist laughing at her adorably forced scowl. "Yeah, I am quite cold."

"That's too bad," he said, as he dropped his jumper on the floor between them.

Hermione pursed her lips together as if trying to prevent a smile. "Ron," she asked hesitantly. "If you're not going to wear it, can I borrow your jumper?"

Ron beamed at her. "Thought you'd never ask."

Her smile broke as she leaned forward and grabbed his jumper off the ground. "I thought I'd never have to," she said with a blush before putting it on.

-February 14th, 1998-

Harry had just gone to bed, and Ron was due to take over watch from Hermione in two hours. He had tried to pass the time by reading her copy of Beedle The Bard, but there were only so many times one could read A Warlock's Hairy Heart and still be entertained by it. He put the book back down on the coffee table, before standing, stretching, and making his way toward the kitchen to make tea.

He made the usual, two cups of tea, one with cream and two sugars, and one black.

"Tea?" he called to Hermione. It was just a formality at this point, a warning that he was coming over to bring her tea and invade her space. Lately, she didn't seem to mind.

"You don't have to be out here for two more hours," she said.

He grinned, set the tea down between them, and took a seat across from her. "You're welcome for the tea."

She smiled. "Thank you."

They sat quietly for a few moments, before Ron took a chance, and inched himself closer to Hermione so that he was sitting next to her. She didn't move away from him at all.

"Is this ok?" he asked.

She nodded. "Of course."

"It's kind of cold though," he said. "Don't you think?"

He didn't need to see her face to know that he had earned an eye-roll. With an exaggerated sigh, she shifted her blanket so it now covered them both, and moved closer so their legs pressed together. "Better?"

"Much better." It was the most physical contact they'd shared since before he left. "This is perfect, actually."

He felt her head rest on his shoulder, and she didn't even flinch when he accidentally brushed her hand underneath the blanket. They paused, as if daring each other to make the next advance, before he slipped his hand over hers and their fingers intertwined.

He could have stayed like that all night, gently rubbing his thumb across her hand and listening to her breath in his ear. Two hours felt like two minutes, and when his time to take over watch came, he considered not saying anything at all, but that would have been selfish.

"Hermione?" he asked.

"Hmm?" she asked into his shoulder.

"It's my turn. You can go to bed, if you want to." He tried to emphasize that last part. Maybe she didn't want to.

She lifted her head from his shoulder. "It'll be cold."

Ron didn't want to press his luck by asking her to say, so he tugged at the hem of his jumper, and gave it to Hermione.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome."

She turned toward the bedroom, running a hand through his hair as she entered the tent. "Ron?" she asked when she was halfway there.

"Yeah?"

"Happy Valentine's Day."

Ron smiled. He was wondering if she had realized the date. "Happy Valentine's day, Hermione."

-March 1st, 1998-

After that night, Hermione never gave him back his jumper, and he didn't mind one bit. It was getting warmer every day, so he didn't need it anymore, and it looked better on her anyway. Additionally, Valentine's Day turned out not to be an isolated event. At this point, Ron could generally expect their watch shifts to overlap for some time, while they held hands under a blanket, and their tea turned cold.

It was Harry's night for watch, which meant that Hermione and Ron were alone in the bedroom. She was bundled up in multiple blankets, and his jumper, and appeared to be pretending to sleep. He was quite warm, so he wore a simple vest, one blanket, and he was absolutely pretending to sleep.

"Ron?"

He smiled at her voice in the dark. "Yes, Hermione?"

"I'm cold," she whined.

Ron laughed and flopped back onto his pillow. "Well, I'd give you my jumper, but you haven't taken it off for two weeks."

She buried her face into her pillow. "I know,' she groaned.

"And I'd give you my blanket, but then I'd be cold."

Hermione turned to face Ron, eyes narrowed as if sizing him up. "Maybe we could share?" she asked tentatively.

Ron's eyebrows shot up his forehead. She wanted to share. "You won't hex me if I come over there?"

She shook her head, before inching toward the far edge of her bed.

Ron felt his ears turn pink as he slipped out of his bed, and approached hers. It was the first time they'd ever shared a bed, and Ron had always imagined it would happen differently. In his envisioned future, this moment would take place after a first kiss, but he wasn't about to complain. He slid under the covers almost too eagerly, then momentarily froze, unsure where to put his arms and legs. He wanted to pull her close and wrap his arms around her, heck he wanted to do much more than that. What he really wanted to do might provoke another silent treatment, a hex, or worse— flock of canaries. What exactly was she expecting?

She answered his question when she took his hand, interlacing their fingers, and turned to her side, facing her back to him. She pulled his arm along so he had no choice but to settle in behind her. She fit perfectly, as he'd always imagined she would, and he hoped she felt the same way too.

"Still cold?"

She laughed. "Nope."

Ron had lost all desire to sleep. He could have laid there all night, his head in her hair, holding her hand, savoring every minute.

"Ron?"

"Hmm."

"Happy Birthday."

He hadn't even realized the date. "Is it really—?"

She nodded. "What do you want for your birthday?"

From his current place— in bed with Hermione, he honestly couldn't think of anything more, or at least anything more he was willing to tell her. "Could I have my jumper back?"

Hermione laughed. "No."

"Oh," he said, trying to feign disappointment. "Worst birthday ever, then."

"You don't mean that."

He smiled as he slipped his arms tighter around her. "I don't."

And he didn't. In fact, he'd be more than fine if he never got his jumper back. Brilliant, even.

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 6

Part 6~ cuz I love y'all <3 don't forget to drink your vitamins and keep hydrated! Stay safe and healthy my loves :)

Word count: 3k+ words

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: None. (tis a fluff-filled chapter)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

* beware of little shifts in perspective from two characters, we will be jumping casually from their minds.

*

You caught the orc staring at you again, with a smile that made his tusks jut out more. "H-Hi!" you blurted out, waving.

As you began walking towards him, you found yourself losing balance, your legs giving out. You closed your eyes reflexively and expected to land face-first on the tiled floor.

Only you didn't.

You felt a strong arm around your waist and a large hand on your back, nearly covering the expanse of it. Instead of the floor, you found yourself smushed against something warm, and that thing, you figured out a second later, was Tai'chi's chest. You became flustered and felt your cheeks and ears redden. Your nose was practically inhaling his scent now, all that musky and rich smell of his making you light-headed. Stuttering, you pulled your head back.

"I-I-I— Ta-Tai'chi???"

Congratulations self, that was perfect, wow.

"Hm? Oh, uh, sorry. I acted on impulse when I saw you collapse." He said as the grip he had on you slackened and moved to hold your shoulder to support you in case you fall again, his other hand, though, remained in its place behind you.

"Don't w-worry about it. My legs just gave out, haha."

That came out awkwardly.

Damn, he is fast.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, his words filled with genuine concern. Your ears were sporting a tinge of red, he noticed. Your scent also changed, signaling you were flustered.

"Ye-yep! We should uh, head back to class now. Oh! We haven't eaten anything for lunch." You said and as if on cue, your stomach grumbled to agree, followed by another grumble but louder, it wasn't yours but Tai'chi's.

The two of you laughed from the sounds they made.

"You're right. How about we go to the cafeteria first to grab something before we head back to our classroom?" He asked, smiling down at you.

"Great idea!" You agreed, a little too eager than you would've liked.

"We should get going then."

He straightened up and removed his hand from your shoulder when he was certain you wouldn't stumble again. Though, he let his hand on your back linger a bit longer even after you left the office.

**************************************

The trip to the cafeteria was peaceful, minus the sounds of muffled talking coming from the rooms. Tai'chi was beside you as you walked down the halls, thankful that your legs found their strength again.

Arriving at the significantly less crowded canteen, both of you went ahead and ordered some food before finding a place to eat. Spotting a vacant one a few tables from the main entrance, you trudged to it, Tai'chi following close. You sat down and got a clearer look at his tray.

It was a lot, though you expected it to be. There were more vegetables than meat though.

"Not a fan of meat?"

He looked at you and laughed, echoing through the whole cafeteria, which resulted in some students glancing in your direction.

You were a bit taken aback, not expecting that sort of reaction from him.

"I'm sorry. I just- I don't know why I found it funny. I meant no offense."

"None taken."

"To answer you, I'm a huge fan of meat, red meat to be exact. This was the only portion that's left when I asked for more. And I'm still growing so I made up for the lack of meat with the vegetables. We orcs love a healthy and hearty meal."

What he said made you smile even more.

"What about you?" He glanced at your tray to see a portion almost similar to his albeit more assorted. This made him look back up and you, flabbergasted. "You can eat all of that?"

You looked down to inspect your food choice, and you instantly felt self-conscious.

"I...Uhm yes. I can." You replied, albeit meekly.

Tai'chi noticed the sudden change in your voice and made himself clear; "No, no I didn't mean it like that. I'm just, well, as you already know I haven't met many humans aside from the ones in a village back home, so I was just surprised." Watching him explain himself made you smile again. The thought of you being repulsive vanished out into thin air.

"I eat a lot. Though sometimes I eat more junk than healthy food. Anyways, let's begin, shall we? We're already late and I'm starving!" Laughing, you both know today's attendance in class isn't much of an issue. They did say there won't be any lessons today to give time for 'socializing' instead.

You stopped in your tracks when you realized you haven't shown him your face ever since you met. You looked around to see if anyone was watching and stole glances at the one in front of you. You slowly removed your mask and revealed your face. Not many have seen you without it, only those who are close to you, specifically your family.

"I guess this is the first time you've seen my face, huh?" Nervous, you asked.

Tai'chi stared at you so intensely you felt self-conscious once again. "I-Is there something wrong?"

'Shit, does he find me unattractive? Weird? Not that I expected the opposite but —'

"No. No, there's nothing wrong. You-"

"I'm what?"

"You're beautiful."

'Did he just—'

Your face heated up again and this time you had no mask to hide it.

Hastily, you covered your face with one hand and looked away.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when you did, coughing into his fist before he started eating.

Once you cooled down, you did the same. Trying to focus on the savory food they served in the uni.

Eat, damn it.

You barely noticed the orc, or perhaps you chose not to, as you wolf down your food like you haven't eaten for weeks. Another thing he found admirable and attractive. You ate cleanly, not letting a single piece of food go to waste.

He'll have to find some time later to formally introduce himself, along with other...things.

***********************************

You leaned back on your chair, noticing Tai'chi doing the same, as you let the feeling of content wash over yourselves. The food was great! You made a note to thank the cook later.

You sat up after a moment and arranged your dirty utensils. You were against the thought of making the cafeteria's job of cleaning harder than it is. So you cleaned up, stacked plates properly in your tray with concentration, you didn't realize until later that you did the same to his dishes. You didn't spare a peek up into his eyes or else you'd make a fool out of yourself again. Taking a napkin, you wiped your mouth clean before you quickly put on your mask, much to Tai'chi's dismay.

You stood up but before you could walk away, a hand reached out to grab your arm, stopping you. He stood up from his seat.

"Pearl."

"Uh, yes?"

"There's still time before our next class starts. Would you mind taking a stroll around the campus with me?"

"Y-Yeah— sure. I wouldn't mind." You replied, avoiding his gaze.

The two of you strolled around the quiet grounds of the campus. There were trees, younger than the ones in the forest. You took in the nice scenery before you, feeling the fresh, cool air, the gentle rustling of leaves, calming, and the scent of your companion to your left, relaxing and sweet. You were in a daze, barely paying attention when Tai'chi said your name and stood still.

"Hmm?"

He chuckled lightly at your response.

"I want to continue where we left off in the forest."

"Oh. Oh, of course."

"I want to know more about you, Pearl. So I'll start with my true name." He knelt down which startled you momentarily.

.

"I am Tai'chi Kashharzol, eldest of five siblings, son of Durog and Gala. I come from the Northern stronghold of clan Fatof'san. Before I came down to the city, I was trained and taught basic socialization by an old human who lived in the village under our protection.

"I went through one of my clan's traditions and hunted down my first Snow Bear. The elders gave me an honorary title to carry, right after my kill."

You stood there listening to him earnestly as he told you all of this with pride, taking in each word and committing them into memory.

"I was given the name, 'Frostbreaker'. It is my warrior name." He took a breath before he asked. "Will you honor me of becoming my friend?"

All of this sounds like a confession— technically it is but there's something, intimate about it. The way his eyes shone with such determination and something you can't figure out.

Should I ask? He stopped talking, snap out of it–

"Oh, wow. I mean yes! Yes I'll be your friend. I'd be more than happy to. The honor is mine!"

You beamed as he returned a toothy grin.

"Right. I should also say something like that, well, uh, wait." You were slightly nervous as you removed your mask, offering a shy smile before speaking.

Breathe in.

And out.

"I am Pearl Blackbell, only child and daughter of Leon and Athena Blackbell. I'm from a town, West of here, Red Springs is its name. My parents taught me martial arts, and, uh, the use of self-defense weapons." You paused and showed him your crimson knuckles. "This is my favorite one to use, I'm sure you noticed already. My father... didn't want me to leave home without any assurance that I can defend myself. You were right when you said I have experience in combat. A decent amount of it," you sighed.

"I always, almost every day, get into trouble standing up for someone, bullied, or abused. I also held my own when someone tries to harass me, smashing their faces in."

Tai'chi in turn listened closely, his gaze intense on you. He was concerned about what you implied. Many attempted to assault you? How many times? Did they hurt you? Your smile faltered as you told him the next things about yourself.

"I... didn't have friends as I grew up. People tend to be afraid of what they do not understand, y'know? They didn't want me near them, finding me weird for wearing a mask, plus my reputation for punching humans didn't help," you laughed self-deprecatingly. "So I spent my whole high school years training, mastering my art with the help of my father, who was of course, very strict and hard on me." Finding nothing else comfortable to say at this stage, you went quiet.

"Can I ask you a question?" The orc said a moment later. He was bothered by the fact you had no friends, not even one. And training, training meant pain.

"Only if I can ask one in return." You replied, feeling bold all of a sudden. He grinned at this.

"Why do you always wear a mask?"

There was no trace of ulterior motive in his scent, not the usual annoyance you smelled every time someone asked the same question. So you answered him, honestly.

"Promise you won't get weirded out?"

"I swear on my name."

"Oh. oh, okay that's good. You see, my nose, or my sense of smell specifically, is err, not normal."

Now this made Tai'chi's eyes widen. Did you have an illness of sorts? Is your health in danger? Were you h–

"I can tell how someone is feeling based on the changes in their scent. My nose is very sensitive to odors so I keep wearing a mask every time I go outside. It has been like this since I was born. My doctors say it's rare for a human to possess, they say it's special, a gift from a higher being."

"When we went in the cafeteria after our first class, "—Tai'chi inserted— "Was the reason you stopped advancing inside further, the sour and disgusting smell of the students in there?"

"Yes, actually— Wait, how did you know?" you asked.

How does he know??? Did he just smirk?

"I can smell them too."

"You can?!"

"Yes."

"So you mean to tell me, my nose functions similarly like yours?"

"Yes, perhaps, a little bit differently. Or maybe it's because you didn't hone it."

"How can you say so?"

"I can block out certain smells if I want to. And based on your reaction early on, you're having a hard time doing so, is that right?"

"W-Well, yes. You're right. Usually, I'd wear a mask with a basic filtration device, but that doesn't work when I'm inside a closed space and the scents are all mixed up and concentrated."

Tai'chi nodded in reply. He began to stand up and you were met with his towering form once again. You took a step back so you can put less strain on your neck from looking up.

"You still owe me an answer to a question by the way."

"Go on and ask then."

"So, uh, is it just me or when you told me about you...it kind of felt different from how talking to a friend sounds like..." You fidgeted, a certain heat slowly creeps up your face again as you looked around not wanting to meet his gaze. You felt your heart rate increase as you noticed his scent change, telling you you were right.

Tai'chi sighed heavily and rubbed his temples before gathering the courage to talk.

"Yes, it was different."

"So..."

"We use that kind of formality, usually towards someone we want to court."

Did he say 'court'?!

"C-Court??" you squeaked. Pretty sure your face is redder than the color of your brass knuckles, your heart hammering in your chest you believed he could hear it.

"Courting, or dating, or whatever everyone calls it down here." Breathing in deeply, he returned to kneel before you and took your hands into his, large palms caressing your small ones.

"I'll have to rephrase my words."

He locked his gaze into yours, deep blue eyes to your mahogany ones.

"Will you allow me to court you, Pearl Blackbell?"

"W-Why would you want to court me?"

The hell would someone want to court me? I'm seen as a freak by most people and I'm not soft or girly like the others. I don't like skirts or dresses. I hate makeup. I have calloused hands, scars hidden under my clothes. I don't understand —

He gave you a soft smile, cutting off your train of self-deprecating thoughts. "I can hear your mind, Pearl. Don't think low of yourself. You are amazing, y'know that? The first time I saw your eyes, and the moment you fought for my sake, I knew I was smitten. You are graceful, each motion fluid and filled with strength, people would never expect you possess until they feel it through a punch you throw. You are kind, righteous, beautiful, strong, with a heart of gold. It is a shame how most people do not see it. I want to prove myself to you, and win your heart properly."

You were about to pass out from his confession when you remembered you need to respond! Gathering what courage and energy you have left, you answered.

"I...Oh my God... I don't know what to say— I've never experienced this, ever! I'm afraid I won't know what to do- what if I mess up? What if I—"

"Listen, liga ni..." He cut you off as he rubbed circles on your hands, that small shift of language sent his voice into a guttural one. "This is also a first for me, and I share your fears in this. But my wish to pursue you remains unwavered. I will try my best to woo you, and if I do something you didn't like, it is up to you to end the courting, any time you want, and I will stop immediately. I hope we would stay friends if it comes that..." He said as he broke eye contact and looked down.

"Tai'chi..." Seeing him sad like this made your chest twist in discomfort.

Steadying yourself, you studied him, his scent was pure, no malice within his words, he was speaking from his heart. With renewed confidence, you finally decided.

"Tai'chi Kashharzol...I wish to court you as well."

He snapped up his gaze back to you and saw you smile. He scented you just to make sure you weren't doing this out of pity. The moment he realized it was genuine he lifted you in the air and spun you around. You were surprised at the sudden outburst but laughed together with him once you got over it. He set you down after a while and moved his face close to yours but halted immediately when he saw your eyes widen.

"Too forward?" He asked.

"Y-Yeah." Your heart was doing backflips, even if that sounds so ridiculous.

He understood. "I apologize, I got carried away." But before he pulled back you pressed a quick kiss on his forehead. He almost purred from the gesture but suppressed it as not to scare you in any way. You were new to this after all. He cleared his throat and reached out a hand to you.

"We should head back, our class will start soon."

"O-okay." You moved to wear your mask again before taking his hand, enjoying the rest of the walk in silence. You were still nervous, but you decided to focus on the now.

I've never felt like this before... Is it a good thing? I think it is.

And with that on your mind, you let yourself relax.

*

A pair of cruel eyes witnessed the whole exchange, remaining unnoticed as he hid behind a tree, a good distance from where you stood. They watched you and the orc walk away before they went the other direction.

"She will be fun to break. A female, human Blackbell, tempting. This will be a great chance to demonstrate and prove how monstrous an orc could be." They snickered. "I will enjoy this, exceptionally."

"In time, Pearl. In time."

****************************************

Now now who is this suspicious person?!

Liga ni — means 'little one' (as an endearment) in Orcish

Tags: @crackinanutshell @kokokatsworld @mitchiesdungeon

[reyesstrand]

24 for Carlos & Judd pls!?!?!

thank you for the prompt! also i have to admit that i wanted to have this up last night but then...everything happened and my original idea was swayed a bit by some of the scenes in the promo and....yeah askdasdfjsa. anyway, i’ve never ventured into this dynamic but it was really fun!! i hope you enjoy 💗

feel free to send me a number from this list! also available on ao3!

Carlos takes a deep breath as he slows the Camaro to a crawl. 

The big and bold Engine 126 over the open bay door of the firehouse is like a beacon, and with every passing second Carlos feels himself growing both calmer and excited at the prospect of spending the evening with his boyfriend and the crew. A few other cars are already parked along the outside of the station, the sun slowly slinking down past the horizon and leaving streaks of orange in its wake. He sighs happily to himself upon hearing the faintest beats of music spilling out into the street, strolling toward the bay as his thumbs move across the screen of his phone, texting TK that he’s arrived. 

The firehouse has started feeling like home over the past few months, as he’s been included in more gatherings. He feels like he’s part of the family, and it’s only affirmed when he hears his name in a familiar voice, and he grins as he looks over his shoulder and sees Grace locking up her car from across the lot. 

“Hey beautiful,” he says, immediately wrapping her up in a hug when she approaches. 

“Always the flatterer,” she jokes, squeezing him tight in return.

“You know how it is,” Carlos grins at her, eventually moving to sling his arm through hers as they move deeper into the bay. The music is louder, now, and they follow it and the smell of what can only be Paul’s cooking and the muffled conversation up the stairs. 

These gatherings have become a sort of tradition of late, celebrating life in general with an occasional birthday or successful run of calls thrown in there. This one is much more laid-back; there are big plates of food waiting to be devoured on the kitchen island, but everyone is mostly just mingling. 

Carlos immediately finds TK in the crowd, as he chats animatedly with Marjan and Nancy over by the sectional, where all of them are seemingly fawning over Buttercup. Grace must be aware of his distraction, because she hugs him close to her side for a moment before stepping away. 

“I’ll let you go see him, sweetheart,” Grace says, eyes warm. “I should go find my husband, anyway.” 

He nudges her gently with his shoulder before beelining for his boyfriend, who looks over and meets his eyes. TK winks at him and gets to his feet, murmuring something to Marjan and Nancy before strolling over to meet Carlos halfway, his hands behind his back in his typical coy stance.

“Fancy seeing you here,” TK grins, once they’re close enough. He shifts his head to the side and Carlos can’t help but to feel his heart swell, taking in the way that TK’s eyes crinkle at the corners and his mouth curves up into a smile that’s always soft and reserved just for moments like these. 

Carlos hums, smiling himself as he reaches out to casually lay a hand on TK’s hip. He speaks under his breath and through a smile: “How are you?” 

“Oh, well,” TK glances around the room, stepping forward slightly. His smile widens when he meets Carlos’ eyes again. “Better now.” 

“Really,” Carlos grins, and TK nods, closing the gap between them with a flash of mischief in his eyes. 

The kiss is brief and casual—something Carlos couldn’t imagine when thinking back on their relationship mere months ago, when everything was fuelled by desperate want. They’re smiling like idiots when they pull apart, but Carlos still stays put where he always wants to be: in TK’s space, watching him smile back at him. 

“Am I interrupting something?” 

TK huffs a little, and glances over to where Judd gently looms over them both. 

“Your old man wants to see you,” Judd says, and TK snorts. 

“You know, I’d love to see you call him that to his face,” TK cocks a brow at him, before sighing and clapping Judd on the shoulder. He drops his voice and says, “play nice with him,” briefly squeezing Carlos’ hand and then stalking off toward the other side of the room. 

Carlos freezes momentarily, which is kind of silly, really, because. 

Well. 

He’s known Judd longer than he’s known TK; ever since he was a rookie still getting used to the chaos of an active emergency. Hell, Judd was one of the first people to reach out to him when he was still getting a hang of things. But for whatever reason, the pressure of seeing him now as his boyfriend’s big brother has him feeling awkward. 

And it’s evident that Judd’s feeling it too, because they’re both quiet for a few seconds that seemingly stretch on for eons, and Carlos finally reaches out his hand, for Judd to respond with his fist. Carlos winces as his fingers fold over Judd’s knuckles, awkwardly bringing his hand back and looking anywhere but Judd’s eyes. 

“Right, so,” Judd retracts his fist and pushes it into his other palm, running his thumb over the back of his hand. “I just wanted to—”

Carlos can’t help but to cut in. “Judd, if this is about respecting TK’s boundaries, or whatever, I have no intention of—”

“Oh no, brother, I—” Judd sighs, and rubs the back of his neck. “I just wanted to tell you how happy we are for you guys. Grace is telling me it’s important that I...communicate my emotions, or whatever, and TK means a whole lot to me. To us, y’know? And you make him happy.” 

Carlos feels his face go warm. 

“Um, well,” Carlos stuffs his hands in his pockets, glancing over to where TK is very obviously keeping an eye on the two of them, disguising his actions by pouring pretzel sticks into a bowl. “Thanks? He makes me happy too.” 

“That’s obvious from a mile away, kid,” Judd smirks, and Carlos rolls his eyes. “Seriously, we’ve got your backs.”

“Thanks, man,” Carlos says earnestly, feeling the air shift around him as TK sidles up to him again. He drops his arm over TK’s shoulders, and he immediately reaches up to grab at Carlos’ hand that brushes against his slowly fading gunshot scar.

“I knew you were a big softie,” TK teases, as Judd grumbles under his breath before reaching over to ruffle up TK’s hair. 

When Judd heads back off toward Grace, after a successful fist bump with Carlos, TK links their fingers together. 

“All good?” He asks, and Carlos’ heart surges as he presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s temple. 

It’s the deepest truth when he murmurs back, “couldn’t be better.” 

[soulwillower]

rude boy III • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader smut)

part 3 of this series!

requested: this has been requested a lot and i dont have enough space to put them all! sorry it took so long!!

warnings: swearing, fluff, smut, bit of angst, a tiny bit of rough sex, but then soft sex, theres lots of crying in this lol but its not v angsty, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, some praise kink, and richie has a hair pulling kink, kinda vanilla tho, unprotected sex, unedited

[losers + reader are aged up 18+ in this.]

5.6k words, oh man sorry

also: i was listening to peach by kevin abstract as i write the car scene :’)

♡

it was one of those days that just didn't stop. one thing after another, from your car breaking down last night to customers calling you sloppy and leaving no tip. the sun rays that shine on your back are warm and cast a long shadow out onto the field in front of you and the breeze makes you sniffle a bit. you'd dropped a whole tray of food on yourself right at the end of your shift, and syrup is drying your hair and dripping down your uniform - you feel like shit.

tears leak slowly from your eyes, feeling sorry for yourself and wondering what you're going to do for the night - you could probably call one of your neighbors, or maybe mike, but you'd left your keys inside your house and nobody was home, so you're stranded without access to your house or a car.

you laugh a bit, in disbelief at the day you've had.

"the fuck are you doing down there, y/l/n? thought you got off thirty minutes ago." a nasally, judging, and pretentious voice calls from a few feet behind you, and you try not to outwardly groan as you quickly wipe away your tears. you sigh in defeat, knowing the tears probably won't dry up in time, and you turn to look at richie.

he's standing with his hoodie in his arm, bathed in golden light and barely more than a silhouette from where he's standing against the dying sun. you really hate how ethereal he looks.

"richie, can you lay off for tonight?" you spit, turning around quickly so he doesn't see your puffy face. "just leave, i don't want to see you right now."

and it's only half true. because recently, you'd actually found solace in richie's company. yes, you still argued, but the fire that surrounds your words are now driven by something more akin to fondness rather than the original animosity. it was freaking you out, but when richie would leave a milkshake with extra whipped cream on the counter for you when he clocked out, or when he stuck his tongue out at rude customers when they turned away, and even when he flirted with you just to be a dick, something tickled inside your chest and you even found yourself flirting back with him. and enjoying it immensely. it was sick.

you thought he'd left you alone but much to your dismay, the familiar beaten red converse high tops smack next to you on the pavement as richie folds his lanky body in two, sitting down only a few inches from you on the sidewalk facing the field.

"what's on your mind?" he says after a few awkward moments and you spare a glance at him. his eyes are taking in your red and puffy face, but his features are concerned. you feel that chest tickle again.

"lots of things. what are you doing?" you say suspiciously, hugging yourself and wiping away stray tears as they fall. you wish you could get up and leave, but it's too far to walk home and it's about to get dark. richie shrugs, playing with his fingers as they sit atop his legs, his knee bouncing incessantly. it irritates you, but you don’t say anything 

"where's your car, y/l/n? drive it into a lake or something?" he says instead, completely disregarding your previous question and making you roll your eyes. "shut up, richie. god. i just- my car broke down and-" and your voice breaks and you shove your face into your hands to hide your embarrassment from the boy next to you.

"woah, it's just a car. damn, what's wrong?" richie says and you shake your head as its buried between your hands. "i've j- i have a lot on my mind. can you leave?" you say, pulling your face from your hands to look at him, knowing you look like a mess. it's not like he hasn't seen you cry before, but that was much different than now and you're even more embarrassed that he's seeing you so vulnerable.

"not to be rude, but i'm not going to leave, toots. we don't have to talk, but i really don't think you should be alone." he shrugs, saying it casually as if it wasn't completely out of character for the two of you to hang out. you try not to consider it too much, instead stretching your legs out and gesturing to your skirt. "i spilled earlier." you say weakly but with a lilt of humor in your voice. richie chuckles, nudging your shoulder with his own. "you can shower and wash it when you get home, though."

you sigh, shaking your head as tears fill your vision again. you laugh wetly, "i forgot my keys at home. nobody's there, so i'm..." you sigh, "i'm locked out." the tips of your shoes drag on top of the cement as you laugh regretfully, staring up at the field in front of you and at the groundhog that runs across the ground in the afternoon air.

richie doesn't even laugh like he should have.

"let me take you for a ride." richie says after a few moments, making you turn and look at him. he's looking at you earnestly, head tilted slightly as his curls blow in the breeze. the golden light hits his face in a way that sharpens the angles of his cheekbones and makes him look much more serious than usual. his eyes glow in that same light and he seems so genuine for the first time in his rotten existence that you can't help but whisper, "okay."

it's quiet for a few moments and neither of you move so much as a muscle. the breeze is calm and for some reason, you're much less on edge than you think you should be. richie rises next to you, brushing off his black pants with his palms.

"let's go, sugar." he mutters quietly, holding his hand out for you. you stare at it for two seconds before lightly grabbing it, letting him pull you up quickly.  "where are we going to go?" you ask with a sniffle, your tears finally ceasing. richie drops your hand and you follow him to a beat up chevy truck where he opens the door for you, muttering about how its 'broken' and that you'd never be able to open it yourself. it makes you roll your eyes, but you say nothing in response.

"we're going to get you that shower." he finally says as he starts the car. you look at him disdainfully, but deep down you're just relieved that you're going to be able to get clean as soon as you can.

your forehead rests against your outstretched arm laying out of the open window as your hair whips around you, richie coursing down the road into town quickly. a song you don't recognize plays on his stereo and he sings to it, not at all quietly but not too loud to be entirely obnoxious and you're shocked to hear that he's got a pretty nice voice.

it seems to calm you down, so you turn to watch him through the corner of your eyes, admiring the moment because it's going to be over too soon, and you don't want to go back to how it used to be with richie now that you have these weird feelings. 

the fighting constantly is exhausting; the sex is great, but couldn't you and richie still have that without wanting to murder each other? whatever happens, you can't show richie how you feel - it'll change everything and he'll never let you live it down. you think it might crush you.

but you can't help it that you definitely don't want to murder him currently. you watch him with a small grin.

he's driving with one hand on the wheel, eyes on the road and an easy look on his face as he sings the chorus of the song, somehow giving you butterflies. it feels almost too peaceful, absolutely nothing like the few times you've spent alone time with richie, and you're sure that he could never truly feel a shred of attraction beyond primally physical with someone like you. the thought makes you want to cry all over again -  you bite your lip, wondering if your feelings are brought on by your shitty day, by the mood of the moment, or something else entirely.  

maybe it's just him.

he turns to glance at you, as if sensing your eyes on him and the small grin he sends you as he harmonizes the last line of the song makes you blush, turning your eyes back to the scenery zipping by. you barely hear richie's soft chuckle.

when you pull up to the house, you're not very surprised to see it's massive; but when you follow him inside silently you're shocked at the warmth you feel. a woman sits with a mug and a book at the dining table. she looks like richie, but her hair is straight and in a low bun. she's beautiful.

"hi, mom." richie says, pressing a kiss to her forehead. she smiles at him, "hi, honey. how was work?" he mumbles a response and then you make eye contact with her. she smiles even warmer. "oh hi, i'm maggie." she introduces herself. you smile and wave a bit, "y/n. it's nice to meet you."

richie looks embarrassed, "she's my coworker." he explains, filling up a cup with water. maggie nods, "oh, right! i've heard a lot about you, y/n."

richie looks at the floor with red cheeks and you smile at her, nodding awkwardly as your cheeks also turn red. 

"we're going upstairs, now." he says and you feel like it's more an order to you than a statement to his mom, so you wave at maggie as he drags you towards the stairs, maggie chuckling as you leave the room.

you step into richie's room and it smells overwhelmingly like him, so much so that you feel the weird tickle in your chest and you know if you spend too much time in here it won't be good for you. 

your eyes flicker throughout the room - landing on pictures of him with maggie and who you assume must be his father, of him and his friends, and of random postcards and art prints. paintings of birds as well as other style sketches of mike and several other kids - including richie himself - hang proudly on display, and you’re fairly certain they’re not painted by him, but it warms your heart that he has them. you wonder who did them. 

there's posters, records, and a skateboard in the corner. his floor is slightly messy, an empty energy drink on the windowsill that you see has a crushed cigarette on it. you kind of fall in love with it every second longer you stay in it and you're not sure why - it's just so... richie.

"um, just to clarify, i didn't- i didn't, like, tell my mom about..." he says suddenly, and you smirk at him as he trails off while scratching his neck. you laugh, "no shit, richie. that would be gross." you say. he grins with a shrug, quickly back to his usual self. "you didn't seem to think it was very gross when we actually did it. both times."

you shove him, face red in embarrassment. "can i use your shower, douchebag?" you ask and he laughs as he walks out of his room and leads you to his bathroom. "i fucking hate you." you mutter as you follow, glaring at his shoulders as they shake silently with laughter. after he gives you a towel and some clothes to change into, he tells you he'll be in his room and you lock the door behind him.

you shower quickly, using what you assume is richie's shampoo and smiling like a lovesick idiot when you recognize the scent of strawberry. you're still grinning like that as you walk back into richie's room, hair dripping and your body slightly drowning in his clothes. "hey sexy." he says in a teasing tone, prompting you to flip him off, smile still on your lips. he's sitting on his deckchair, spinning slowly from his feet as he watches you sit on his bed. "um. thank you a lot, richie. i'm not sure what i would have done if you hadn't let me come over." you say sheepishly, looking from side to side. "where's my stuff?"

he shrugs, "put them in the wash. they'll be done soon, we can wait until someone gets back at your house. or- you know, if you need a place to stay, i can take the couch tonight."

your heart flutters, your mind barely even taking the time to be shocked anymore at how he is away from work. you'd just assumed...

and for some reason, the realization of everything that's happened makes your eyes watery again. "-hey, y/n, it's okay." he says softly as you close your eyes and shake your head, "no, no i know, it's fine, i'm just being a child." you mutter, rubbing your eyes furiously. richie laughs, "i've seen you act like a child before, sugar. this isn't one of those times."

this makes you roll your eyes and suddenly you feel better. you laugh almost bitterly, "how do you do that?" you ask quietly, more to yourself than richie. he looks at you curiously, crossing the threshold of his room to sit beside you. "do what?" he asks. you shrug one shoulder, "dunno. you're actually good at making me feel better. i almost hate you for it."

"nah, i know you could never hate me." he jests, but again you know there's a ring of truth to it. "as much as i try." you say almost too honestly, and richie gives you an odd look.

"want to hear something kind of lame?" richie asks, already looking embarrassed. you shift a bit to look at him, ignoring the feeling of him that you get from everything around you - the bed sheets under you, the air moving through the room, the soft light of the moon, the clothes you're wearing, the look he's giving you.

"everything you say is lame." you say weakly, but you don't add on, waiting for him to tell you. he shakes his head with a small laugh. "i get excited for your shifts now." richie admits, his cheeks glowing red, "like, actually get excited to see your stupid face when you clock in."

the honesty of it makes you smile immediately, heartbeat quickening. you're shocked, truly. "it's awful, sugar. you're really throwing a wrench in my playboy status." he adds, making you roll your eyes.

"what playboy status?" you ask, biting your lip to conceal a grin at his words - does he feel the same as you?

he shrugs with a limp hand wave, "you wouldn't understand. doesn't matter, not sure if i'm going to be much of a playboy anymore." he says, voice teasing but a strand of truth laced tightly in between his words. it makes you grin down at the sweats on your body. his sweats. they're soft and cozy against your body, and the shirt smells overwhelmingly like him.

"what, you got someone in mind?" you say, half teasing but yearning to hear your name fall from his lips because you don't know if you could say it yourself. he looks at you, "depends on what she wants from me. she’s a pain in the ass, though, don’t know her very well yet."

oh. you nod, realizing that he actually was talking about someone else and feeling bitter. "well. you're an unbearable asshole, so anybody would be a fool to want you." you say, sounding a lot less joking than you intended. 

his grin falters and a look that is slightly comparable to hurt flashes across his face. he scoffs, shaking his head. 

"doesn't mean much coming from you, does it?" he says with an eye roll and your eyes widen. so much for thinking he liked you. "i was joking." you say, rolling your eyes. he crosses his arms, "if i'm as bad as you think, then that means you're a real sleaze. i mean, you practically beg for my cock every time we're alone, so what does that say about you?" he spits, clenching his jaw and looking away. 

your eyes widen, heart breaking at his words. you really dug yourself a hole this time. "why do you have to be so  fucking insolent all the time? i swear to god, i do not understand you." you say, standing up and wishing for your tears to not reappear.

this day could not get any fucking worse, could it? through your frustration, you start to make your way towards his door, not wanting a single thing that reminds you of him. "you don't understand me? god, y/n, that's so fucking hypocritical. you're so stuck up that when i was trying to do a nice thing because i fucking care ab- what are you doing?!" he hisses, eyes wide as you shove the sweats off your legs, leaving you in your underwear and his shirt.

you throw a glare at him through glossy eyes, face red with embarrassment and mostly anger, "i'm leaving. i don't need your shit, i need to go."

"and where the fuck do you think you're going?" richie says, following you as you walk towards his door.

"anywhere is better than being here with you." you spit, but his arm reaches to slam shut the door. you whirl around to find him much closer than you'd expected, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched in anger. tension fills the room.

"you're just gonna walk down there and dig through my fucking laundry, half naked, in front of my parents?" richie sneers. "no. you're not going anywhere, y/n. i don't care how much of a brat you are, or how much you hate me." he snaps, his breath hitting your face.

something about his words and his tone and most likely the situation you're in makes you swallow and clench your thighs together. damn richie and his hotness, and damn you and your stupid fucking feelings. "fine." you mutter, standing your ground still.

you can almost feel the two of you both fighting against it, but suddenly your lips are on his and hes spinning you, tossing you onto the bed. 

"you're so fucking controlling. i hate it." you mutter as he crashes against you on his mattress. "really, princess? because you seem to like it when my cock is inside you." he spits back, cheeks red with anger. you gulp back a sneer, feeling yourself get wetter by the minute as he thrusts against you. 

"whatever, richie. just fuck me if you're going to fuck me, or i can leave." you say and he growls, looking pissed. he ruts against you and he's hard already. you'd make fun, but you can feel yourself slick through your underwear and his fingers are already pulling off your panties, palming himself as he kisses you harshly. 

"then be fucking good and shut up." he mutters, making you think back to the first time you hooked up. there's a fire between you two as he pulls himself out of his jeans, pumping a few times before running his tip up and down your slit, teasing you. you let out a strangled whimper, trying your hardest not to give in and show him any emotion.

and then he's pushing into you roughly, just as you remember it, and this time you wonder if he can taste your dried tears on your lips as he fucks into you hard. 

you clutch him, letting out moans and stuttering breaths as he moves his hips but then he's pulling you closer to his chest, fingers gripping the material of his shirt and suddenly you can smell him.

you smell him everywhere, all around you and it becomes overbearing and overwhelming as you realize that you can't just hide your feelings for richie anymore, especially not with the way he's holding you against him. it seems way too intimate to be just casual, and you feel the stinging behind your eyes at the realization.

 you let in a gasp as it hits you, tears for the fourth time today streaming down your cheeks. his face is buried in your neck as he fucks into you so you hold your breath, hoping you'll stop crying quicker than he'll notice.

he hits a spot inside you that makes you moan and a sob escapes with it, making richie instantly perk up, eyes wide as he sees your face.

"why are you crying?" he asks, this time with no sneer, obviously able to read that your tears are from a very raw emotion. he stills himself but stays inside you, elbows stilting him up above you as his fluffy curls frame his face.

you shake your head, your chest shaking with tremors. "keep going." you mutter, trying to rock your hips against his as you squeeze your eyes shut, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. at least you won't have to look at him. "richie, keep going."

"no, y/n, what - am i hurting you?" he asks, and he sounds so soft and nervous, a complete 180 from just a few minutes ago. he starts to pull out and you grab him, trying to make him stay, but he pulls all the way out and mutters, "baby, what's going on?"

and you let out another sob at that, not able to express how heartbreaking it is for him to call you that, for him to be so soft when you know all he wants is just a good fuck.

"please talk to me sugar, i'm gettin real nervous." he mutters and that's enough for you to look up at him through tear blurred eyes. he's gnawing on his kiss-bruised lip, looking like he might cry himself. 

you shake your head, sitting up slightly on your elbows and rubbing at your eyes as his shirt on your frame falls over your bare thighs.

"i'm sorry, i'm just - i'm just scared." you mutter, hands shaking. richie's looking at you with wide eyes, propped on his elbow above you. "scared of what?" he asks and you let out a quick, tearful and defeated sigh. "i don't want to make you hate me more. i just - i'm scared because i think i h- i think i have feelings for you. and i’m scared." you mumble it and you watch as his face contorts.

you feel sick for one moment when he looks stoic, and you think he may just do the job for you and kick you out.

but then he smiles a genuine, beautiful smile and you're once again reminded of his unique and beautiful features and you think of how stupid you've been not to see what's been in front of you all this time. the thought makes tears fall from your eyes.

"y/n, doll, i don't... i don’t think you have to be afraid." he says with a shake of his head, sounding slightly nervous himself. you look at him, your heart skipping as he looks back at you, the most serious he's ever been.

"what?" you mutter with wide eyes, trying not to get too excited. he shakes his head, looking just as nervous as you felt, his own eyes welled with unshed tears. 

"-i think about you all the time. i don't know why, i can't understand my attraction to you, but it's there. you've got me. and it sucks, because you're insufferable." he admits.

you're so relieved you could fly. something snaps in your chest and you laugh lightly, hand falling onto his cheek to rub his jaw. "what makes you so high up on your horse? you're awful. and how do you think i feel, thinking about you all the time? its disgusting, rich." you say through a watery smile. he returns that same smile and he chuckles, almost as if in disbelief.

he says nothing, instead just kisses you, which you return happily. he slips his tongue against your lip and you feel that the fire is still there - and as you part your lips and he kisses you harder, tongue slipping through your lips, you groan. 

he pulls away and kisses a trail down to your neck, his hips now rocking slowly into you and making you moan lightly. "you're so fucking beautiful." he mutters into your neck and butterflies flutter in your stomach. you're throbbing in need as he moves against you but he pulls back to smile at you softly. "do you trust me?" he asks with a grin. you lift a playful brow at him, "i know i shouldn't, but i kind of do."

and with that, he leans down so that he can kiss down your chest and rubbing his hands over your bare legs. you watch him until you realize his intention and your stomach swirls with butterflies. "richie, your parents are downstairs. we don't have time" you whisper bashfully, biting back a moan as he lifts up your shirt and kisses your bare stomach.

"they won't bother us." he says dismissively and you're about to argue but he's slowly placing a thumb against your neglected clit and rubbing gently. it feels incredible and you moan right into the shell of his ear as he slowly moves his finger pad. 

he leans back with a grin and you mutter, "okay, rich. if you say so." and then you slip your shirt off and he sits back, pulling his own shirt off. "let me see all of you, baby. i finally get you all to myself." he mutters, rubbing your bare hips. his words send a different kind of shiver down your spine and you smile bashfully, unclipping your bra so that you're splayed out fully naked beneath him.

"shit, doll." he mutters, eyes raking over your heaving chest and down the swell of your stomach and hips and to your legs, his fingers softly trailing after his eyes. "how could i ever hate you?"

you sock him lightly on the shoulder and he laughs quietly, shaking his head. his curls flop on his forehead and you feel that tickle in your chest again so you pull him down to your lips, falling back onto his mattress.

he wastes no time, kissing down your stomach and looking up to you, pulling your legs and draping them over his shoulders. "you want me to taste you, baby?" he asks, mischievous glint in his eyes. you let out a stuttering breath, too aroused to roll your eyes. "please, richie." you whisper, running your fingers through his curls. 

he watches you as his tongue sticks out, licking a stripe up your pussy before swirling on your clit, making you gasp in pleasure.

the feeling is sharp and pleasant as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks lightly, tongue running over your folds. his hands move to hold your thighs as he delves in, your moans quieting as the pleasure increases because you're worried his parents might hear. 

his mouth moves on you expertly, his tongue sliding to fuck up into you and making your hips buck, his nose brushing against your clit. you tug on his hair and he groans, sending vibrations through your body that make your toes curl.

its soft as he rubs your stomach, his tongue working you so well that within a few minutes, you know you’re already about to cum. 

reaching to cup your face, his thumb presses against your lips and you kiss it softly, making smirk in between your thighs as he kitten licks your clit and draws a gasp from your lips. "rich, oh my god, i'm so close." you sigh out, overwhelmed by how good you feel, by the pleasure coursing through you and the affection for the boy you're with.

he just holds you tighter to his face, lapping your juices up and flicking against your clit before sucking, your thighs tightening. "richie, please, i'm gonna-" and but yourself off with a high moan, hand covering your mouth as you hit your high. 

you cum on his tongue, legs shaking as you ride out the first orgasm you'd ever gotten from anyone's mouth and your fingers comb through his hair. "rich, fuck." you mutter in bliss as you come down from your high, full of affection and need.

"you liked that, huh sugar?" he says with a grin as he rises back up to kiss you. you roll your eyes with a small smile, "shut up." you say lightly. 

you're still sensitive as you pull him to line up at your entrance. he presses a soft kiss to your lips and you blush, tasting yourself on him. "you sure, baby?" he mutters, and you nod. "yes, richie. please."

and he finally pushes himself in again, this time easing in slowly and kissing you sweetly. your hands play with his curls as he fills you and you moan when he's finally buried to the hilt, still sensitive enough that you clench tightly around him. his hand snakes to pin yours above your head and he holds onto it, keeping you in his hand as he starts to pump into you. 

this time it's much slower and with much more intention as he thrusts into you, the first minute moving in very shallow thrusts until you start moving your hips against his in need.

he picks up the pace then and it makes you grasp his shoulder as he thrusts into you, hitting a new angle that makes you let out whimpers every few moments. the feeling of richie stretching you out slowly and hitting a place deep inside you that you didn't realize you needed makes you smile into his kiss. 

“look at you, sugar. fuck, you’re so pretty taking my cock like this. god.” he mutters, moaning as he fucks you. 

his hand is still holding yours. "you're so amazing." he mutters into your ear, "taking me so well, baby. so good for me." he says, kissing your ear and you whine, dragging your nails down his back in pleasure.

"all mine. i get you all for myself, huh?" he says as he thrusts into you at a passionately slow pace, your hands holding on to his shoulders as you hook your ankles around his hips. "yes, fuck, rich. all yours," you mumble, feeling your second orgasm coming on and chasing it as much as you can.

"please, you feel so good." you beg, unsure what you're asking for but knowing that richie will satisfy it. his hands fall to your hips, "i'm close, sugar." he mutters and he thrusts a bit harder, hitting a spot inside you that has you keening loudly. he chuckles, kissing you and muttering, "shh, sweetheart, we have to be quiet."

you nod, eyes closing as he thrusts into you, one hand slipping up to roll your nipple softly and making you moan his name. as he sucks a hickey on to your neck, his thrusts begin to get sloppy and you clench around him. “god, you were made for me, baby. fuck, takin’ it so well.” 

you hit your second orgasm and you softly bite into richie's shoulder, his own moan at the feeling of you clenching around him making you turn red. you feel his hips stutter and he groans as he releases inside of you. 

waves of pleasure course through your body and you shake with exhaustion, a blissful feeling coming over you as richie rides out both of your highs, chest pressed against yours and breathing your name into your neck.

he pulls out of you slowly, rubbing your stomach as he kisses you and rolls onto his mattress next to you. you stare at each other and you know you must look like a mess - your hair is still slightly damp from the water, your freshly washed skin is now sticky with sweat, and your face has tear tracks on it, and yet richie mumbles, "you're fuckin' stunning, y/l/n. it’s insane."

you turn red and chuckle, "you're pretty fucking incredible yourself, tozier." he smiles at you, pulling you closer. his fingers dance along your skin and you squirm as he mutters, "no, that's all you, toots."

his fingers, you now realize, are deliberately tickling you, and you let out a few winded laughs, swatting at his hands as the sensation of him on your skin has you giggling.

"y/n! why are you laughing so much?” he asks, but he's releasing little laughs himself, his breath hitting your skin. you can't help the screams of laughter, knowing his parents downstairs can hear you.

"stop, richie, st-stop!" you mutter as his long fingers tickle your sides. "i'm not doing anything!" he mutters through a chuckle. his eyes are soft as he stops his motions and just stares at you, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

he sighs, looking happy, "god, please be mine. i think i'll die if i can't do this with you forever."

your heart swells at the words and you blush, your hands falling onto his cheeks. "of course i will, rich." you mumble, kissing him soundly. his arms encircle your waist and he pulls you towards him, kissing you back lovingly as he pinches your ass cheek lightly. you pull back with a small giggle, "rich!"

he shrugs with a smug smirk and you wack his arm lightly, "you're a real rude boy, you know." you tease, and he shrugs, "you seem to like it." with that, he kisses you softly.

and yeah, you definitely do.

[rikumorimachisgirl]

Bridges

Pairing: Dr. Toshiki Kasumi x OC (Anna)

Fandom: Voltage, RomanceMD

Genre: Fluff and a little angst

Word count: 2,945

Disclaimer: I do not own Voltage or any of its characters, but I own the idea of this fic. Also, CG borrowed from Voltage.

A/N: I wrote this for my good friend @imoonlit-river as a Valentine's Day present. I hope you enjoy this.

It started one afternoon. One terrible afternoon, just after you'd clocked out of a long and grueling shift at the Seimei University Hospital. You sighed. You were used to long shifts, but covering two shifts on your first week on the job was one for the books. 

You squinted as you stepped out of the main entrance, the afternoon sunlight shone directly at you. As you trudged to your apartment, you mentally deliberated if taking this temporary assignment was a mistake. Lost in thought, you allowed your feet to carry you through the busy crowd. 

'Maybe I should've just stayed home,' you thought silently. It has only been a week since you started, but you have been passed on from one IT department to another, told off twice for misunderstanding instructions,  had no one else on the same shift as you, and no one to talk to. 

You stopped on your tracks and found yourself on a bridge - the same one you pass every single day on your way to work and back. The vivid hues of the sky caught your attention, and you gasped as you admired the pretty pink palette in front of you. Leaning at the railing, you stared at the horizon, drinking in its beauty, and allowing it to refresh your tired soul. 

"Long day?"

A voice beside you made you jump. You hadn't expected anyone to be there - more so, notice you standing there. As you shifted your gaze to the person next to you, you felt your eyes widen in surprise. 

"Did I guess right then?"

Your heart hammered in your chest, as the beautiful man standing beside you continued to speak. You shook your head and blinked your eyes a few times to make sure you weren't dreaming. You haven't slept in twenty-four hours, you reminded yourself. Maybe this was all a dream. 

Yes, it must be a dream. There was no way that the Seimei University Hospital's Chief of Medicine, and top Cardiologist, Toshiki Kasumi, was beside you looking so cool in his grey hoodie under a crisp blue jacket, and jeans. 

"Uh, are you okay?" 

"C-c-chief Kasumi!" You blurted out louder than you had intended when you saw his face coming nearer to check on you. "It's you! You're here!"

"Yes, I have been for several minutes now, but you seem to have noticed just now. Are you feeling okay?." He raised his eyebrows to study you, before leaning back. 

"I'm sorry, Chief Kasumi," you bowed a lot lower than necessary. "I worked two shifts today to cover for Sena-san. I didn't mean to be out-of-sorts today."

He looked at you quietly before turning his attention to the view in front of you. 

"It's fancy seeing you here, Chief Kasumi. Do you cross this bridge, too?" You asked awkwardly. 

The silence between you stretched for a few minutes, and you suddenly wished you hadn't asked him a silly question. You kept your gaze low, looking around for a hole you can crawl into and hide. 

"Bridges aren't for crossing," he finally spoke, as he tucked his hands in his pocket, and you looked up to see the pink hues had turned purple. "They're for stopping."

"Stopping?"

He simply nodded. "Who knows, maybe we'll stop by the same spot again sometime," he said, and just before he turned to leave, he added, "but only if you stop calling me Chief Kasumi."

***

"You know, you haven't introduced yourself to me properly."

You glanced sideways to see him looking at the same blessed view you admired with him four weeks back. Today was an uneventful Wednesday and you managed to clock out on time. 

"Oh, I haven't? I'm sorry. My name is Anna," you replied, smiling. 

"And you're here on a temporary assignment?" He asked as he handed you one of the cans of coffee he bought from the vending machine just before. 

"For four more months, yes," you said cheerily.

"I see. What's it been like for you so far?"

"The first week was hell," you recalled, sighing. "But lately, Sena-san has been a lot nicer to me. I now have two other teammates on the same shift, so the workload is more manageable. They're also teaching me the ropes so I don't get in trouble."

He simply nodded, keeping his gaze towards the sky, while you secretly stole glances at his picture-perfect profile. Until now, you still couldn't believe you've managed not only to talk to but also to 'hang out' with Seimei University Hospital's most sought-after doctor.

Him. The guy beside you. Cardio surgery's rockstar, EICU's fearless department head - the guy loved and loathed by many because of his top-notch skills and his dazzlingly good looks. Your teammates told you that the most difficult cases always get sent his way, and big shots always requested for him to attend to them. You've seen him in action a few times in the hospital, too, and his intense energy was nothing like the soothing aura he exuded now 

"If you have something to say, speak up," he said, snapping you out of your reverie, and you blushed. Just how long has he noticed you staring at him, you wondered, slightly mortified. As the sky turned a darker shade of purple, he cleared his throat and looked your way. "Anyway, I have to go back to the hospital. Are you on your way home?"

"Yes," you managed to reply as he turned to leave. "I hope to cross this bridge and see you here again sometime."

He paused for a moment and turned around. "Bridges aren't for crossing, you know. Did I ever tell you that?"

"Oh. Yes, you did," you suddenly remembered, as your face turned redder. "Well, maybe we can stop by again another time."

"Maybe we will, Anna."

Maybe it was the way he stopped on his tracks to remind you about what he said about bridges or the casual way he called your name that kept rooted on the spot to watch his figure disappear into the crowd, with an unopened can of coffee in hand, and a goofy smile on your face. 

***

"I'm glad you were able to restore the files in Kyogoku's computer the other day."

The two of you stood side-by-side at the bridge once again, looking at the pink sky. You had met quite a few times in between, but today, you decided to linger a while longer so you could talk a little bit more. 

"It wasn't that hard. All I did was search the servers for the backup of his data. No biggie," you shrugged, as you handed him the sandwich you bought at the convenience store for him while he opened your can of warm coffee for you. 

You don't know when this whole thing started, and neither of you seemed to have taken notice, but somewhere between the first time you've met and today, you've made up so many unspoken rules with each other. Rules such as who's turn it is to buy snacks, or which topics are safe to discuss with each other. 

But today, you were feeling more daring than usual, so you stared at him again as he was appreciating the beauty of the sky before him. 

"You've got something to say?" He finally asked. 

"You must love the sky so much, no?" 

"I like this one in particular," he said coolly. "This particular view is called the Belt of Venus."

"Belt of Venus…," you mouthed. 

"It only lasts for about 15 minutes before the sky turns dark. It's associated with the Greek goddess, of course, and it signifies…" he said before catching himself. 

"It signifies what, Dr. Kasumi?" You asked curiously. 

He took a deep breath and shook his head. "It signifies a lot of different things to different people."

"What does that signify to you though?" You press earnestly. 

"A passing," he said quietly. 

Something in his voice pulled at your heartstrings and as you gazed into his grey eyes, you knew there was more to the man beside you than he let on. 

Before you could press any further, he moved his hand to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear and you froze on the spot. He felt you tense up and smiled. 

"I have to go back to the hospital, Anna. Take care on your way home, alright?" 

All you could do was nod at him as he smiled tenderly and went on his way, leaving behind his uneaten sandwich and your half-finished can of coffee. 

He didn't promise you'd stop by together again soon, but something in you knew you would. Soon. 

***

"I can't believe the time's flown by so fast!"

You threw your hands in the air excitedly and looked to the sky with a big smile on your face. You're only a month away from ending your assignment in Tokyo, and you couldn't be happier. 

He stood beside you, armed with a paper bag filled with sandwiches and chips, and your favorite can of coffee. He smiled silently as you beamed like a child who has just been allowed to go outside and play. It was sunset again, and his calendar was surprisingly clear, so he texted you to ask if you wanted to meet. It was, of course, an offer you'd never say no to. 

"Someone's happy," he said as he leaned by the railing, once again staring at the sky. 

"Well, duh. Of course, I'm happy. I miss home," you replied, finally settling in beside him. "I can't wait to eat home-cooked meals once again, and talking to people who speak the same Language - no offense meant!"

He snickered softly as you leaned on him, your arm against his while admiring the view in front of you. With you, he seemed less like the dark emperor of the lord of death his colleagues made him out to be - he was simply Dr. Kasumi, a guy who loved the sunset and who loved to listen to your endless - often nonsensical - stories, and humor you with his own. 

As you fell into silence, you began to wonder what your days would be like when you went back home. Days without Dr. Kasumi. 

Your heart began to hurt at the thought that in a few more weeks, you would have to say goodbye - to put an end to the sunset stops along the bridge to watch this beautiful view, bid farewell to the conversations you've exchanged over convenience store snacks sometimes until late into the night, and say goodbye to the kindest soul you've never even had the chance to know deeper. The thought made you freeze. What's wrong with me?

"Are you okay?" He asked, peering into your face, as you stared listlessly into space. 

"That was what you first asked me," you replied, recovering quickly. He smiled. 

"Yes, it was," he chuckled, facing you. "Back then, I knew exactly what was going on in your little head after Sena asked you to work overnight."

"And now?"

He sighed. "And now, I'm not sure if your reason is the same as mine," he said, as he backed you up against the railing and trapped you in his arms. "You wanted to know what the Belt of Venus meant to me, right?"

You nodded nervously. 

"My dad died when I was little, and my mom always said you could send off your departed loved ones when the goddess appeared. I watched it every day since," he said quietly, his eyes never leaving yours. "And when my mom and my best friend died, I watched the sunset even more. The Belt of Venus means to send someone off - at least that's what it means to me. And I always felt sad when it's over. At least I did until lately…"

"What changed?" You asked, waiting on his answer with bated breath. 

"You. You happened," he replied, leaning closer to you until your lips touched his. "You came and saw the sunset with me. And for a time, I forgot to be scared. But now, I need to send you off."

"Dr. Kasumi -," you gasped, as he pulled away from you and straightened up. 

"I'm sorry to burden you, confessing as I did," he said, as he reached out to wipe the tears you hadn't realized had stained your face. "Please think nothing of it. I want you to go home and be happy - as happy as you made me in these four months we've watched the sunset together."

He sighed, releasing you from his grip. "And for your sake, I won't stop by anymore. But don't be a stranger when you see me at work."

His image was a blur behind your tears, as he walked away from you, just as he's always done whenever you watched the sunset. Only this time, you had a feeling he was never coming back. 

You scolded yourself right there and then. He was just a friendly face, someone who wanted you to feel you weren't alone in this strange place, you reasoned out. You aren't even supposed to cry over him. 

But as the night grew darker, the realization of your feelings for him came into light. 

You loved him. You were in love with Dr. Kasumi. And you needed to see him one more time. 

***

The days leading to your departure went by like a blur, and in the flurry of it all, you had not caught sight of the dark-haired doctor that stole your heart. You passed by his office but were often told he was in surgery or teaching at a conference somewhere. He never stopped by your usual bridge, too. 

This isn't fair at all, you thought angrily. How come he gets to confess his feelings and you don't? 

Today was your last day at the Seimei University Hospital, and you've made arrangements to stay two more days in Tokyo before flying back home. 

This was it, you thought. Your last chance to confront the elusive heart thief they call Chief of Medicine at the EICU. As you peered into the exclusive department, a grumpy looking Orthopedic surgeon looked your way and sighed. 

"He ain't here," Dr. Takado said, exasperated. Not that you blame him - he's been in the receiving end of all your inquiries after all. 

"I see. Well, thank you, Dr. Takado," you said, bowing politely, much to his surprise.

"Why do you want to see him so badly anyway?" 

"It's my last day at work today," you explained, trying your best not to melt under his icy glare. "I- I only wanted to thank him for making me feel like I wasn't a stranger around here."

Something in Dr. Takado's eyes flickered, and his lips stretched into a lazy smile. "Is that so?" He said. "I may be able to help you then, but you gotta tell me something first, got it?"

Relief washed over you as you realized you may have gained an ally in his squad. Smiling, you looked at the kind-hearted doctor in front of you and said, "I'm at your mercy, Dr. Takado."

***

The lovely pink hue tinged the afternoon sky once again, signaling that the day was about to come to a close. Filled with determination, you sprinted towards the bridge at the far end of the river bank. Standing there, just as Dr. Takado promised, was Dr. Kasumi, in casual clothes - the same one he wore when you first met. He stared quietly at the Belt of Venus, his expression solemn, as though he were sending someone off in prayer. 

You paused to catch your breath and to calm your beating heart. You wanted nothing more but to run over to him and tell him off, but that wouldn't do you any good, and you knew it. 

"Fancy seeing you here," you said, feigning nonchalance. 

"Anna?"

"You look like you've just seen a ghost." You walked closer until you stood right in front of him. "What's wrong with our old bridge?"

He looked at you with a scowl on his face. "I said I wasn't stopping by there anymore, didn't I?" 

"You also said I shouldn't be a stranger if I saw you at work, but you never showed yourself to me," you retorted. "Don't you think it's cruel to confess your feelings to me and not hear me confess back?"

"What's the point if you're just crossing  -," he asked, turning his gaze back to the Belt of Venus as it was starting to disappear. 

"Well, what if I said I wasn't crossing anymore?"

He paused and held his breath. And you took it as an opportunity to approach him. Cradling his face in your hands, you forced him to look at you. 

"I don't want to just cross the bridge anymore, Dr. Kasumi," you said earnestly, as you gazed into his eyes. "I want to stop. With you."

His breath hitched, but at the same time, you felt his arms around you holding you close. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"I thought it was your last day…"

"Someone may have worked some magic to make me miraculously extend my stay," you respond cryptically, as you returned his hug. 

"So, you mean it - you're not going away."

"I said it before and I'll say it again - I won't. I'm staying," you said, pulling away from his hug so you can look at him. "And depending on how this works out, maybe I'll be staying for the long run."

He smiled and touched your cheeks. "Oh, you'll be happy here alright. I'll make sure of it. This is the only place you're stopping - right by my side."

The end. 

[of-muppets-and-men]

Her Mother?

Although Atlas may have been the land of stuck-up pricks, no one would ever dare deny its beauty. It’s decadent buildings and towers; as posh and lavish as its citizens. Though it may have been freezing on a good day, Atlas did have the most breathtaking view of the horizon out of any of the four kingdoms. And enjoying said brilliance was Qrow branwen and Maria Calavera.

It had been a few days since their dramatic meeting with Ironwood, and their group was thankfully given a few days grace. After the many times they nearly died; everyone was more than willing to relax. Ruby and Weiss had gone to visit Winter and by extension, the Schnee Manor. Yang and Blake were with Professor Polendina, getting their weapons repaired. And the rest of Team JNPR alongside Ozcar, were exploring the rest of Atlas; while trying not to bring too much attention to themselves.

Now that the “adults” were alone, Qrow and Maria decided to take to a lovely little cafe. Qrow, still shaking his Drinking habits, sat on the veranda, sipping away at his bitter coffee. Maria sat adjacent to him, helping shake his vice by cracking him over the head with her cane every time he reached for his flask. The veteran huntsman grumbled at his idol, rubbing the growing bruise on the back of his head; all the while, Maria kept a smug grin plastered on her face.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He complained loudly.

“Perhaps.” She grinned devilishly while stirring her tea.

Annoyed, Qrow laid his half finished and criminally overpriced latte back on it’s serving dish. He slunked back into his chair and stared back out to the horizon, hoping to feel some level of ease. But even though the relic was as safe as it was going to get; he couldn’t shake his feelings of grief. He contemplated on his time as Ozpin’s left eye. Years upon years of service, all the people he’s killed, all the friends he’s lost, and for what? Piece of mind knowing a mystic lantern is safe? What a joke. All those broken families for a lost cause. His thoughts continually ate at him, as they always did; the same voice in his head screaming the words ‘It’s your fault’ at him like some twisted mantra. Being the wiser of the two, Maria could tell something was bothering him.

“Y’know that niece of yours is quite something Qrow.” She said, hoping to interrupt his brooding.

“What?” he answered, understandably confused “Where’d that come from?”

“Just a simple observation. Her skill with her weapon is extraordinary.” Maria remarked honestly “Ruby’s nearly as good as I was when I was her age. She must have had an incredible teacher.”

Qrow blushed earnestly at his hero, honoured yet embarrassed by her praise. Never in his life did he think The Grimm Reaper herself would compliment his teaching ability. Maria was relieved her compliment worked; he’d been down since the battle in Argus and his withdrawals weren’t helping him either. It was nice to see his spirits lifted for once.

“You should be proud.”

“I am.” Qrow grinned “I’ve always been proud of her. I’m sure her mom would be too.”

“Her Mother?” 

The old crow’s eyes noticeably widened. He thought about Summer all the time, more than he probably should have, that's for sure. But he’d always managed to keep it to himself. Damn Semblance.

“Uhh yeah...” He awkwardly replied.

“ You’ve never mentioned her before? And now that I think about it… Neither has Ruby.”

A lull of silence fell upon the pair. 

Every word his Idol spoke stung at his heart. Summer had died nearly 14 years ago and yet the idea of her not being here was still hard for him to swallow. Or worse still, Ruby barely even remembering her own mother. It didn’t feel real; he didn’t want it to be real, so much so, he spent those same 14 years drinking away his grief. His abstinence was bringing many things he thought he’d locked in his subconscious. Maria sat idly, knowing she’d likely touched an old wound.

Qrow forced out a weary response, the buried emotion taking shape on his face for the first time in years.

“Well Ruby was still pretty small when Summer…” He breathed, though unable to say the last word.

“Ohh, I see. Forgive me. I should’ve known.”

The air became more uncomfortable as the minutes ticked by. The quiet between the two worsened, spoiling Qrow’s coffee and mood to boot. Qrow, slipping back into his chair, let out a solemn sigh. His hand instinctively reached for his flask. Maria thought it cruel to crack him over the head for having to remember such a thing. So as he went to unscrew the cap, Maria did the only thing she could think of.

“Y’know Qrow. Before you disappoint your niece. How about we talk about…” Maria opened with “Hmm, what her name again? Oh yes, Summer.” 

“Hmm? Why would want to know of all people?” Qrow answered, offense lacing his words.

“Consider it an Old woman’s curiosity. Plus I’m interested to know what she meant to you and Ruby.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, you did go back on your word as soon as you mentioned her. So she must mean something, right?”

The Old hunter was a bit astonished that Maria had figured him out so quick. He wanted to argue, to dispute her, but she was right. Sure he may casually drunk during his days at Beacon, but it was never a problem till… that day. His annoyance turned to melancholy as his mind delved into the past. Remembering when things were so much less complicated; when things were good… better than they are now.

But with a shaky breath and tense hands, he began: “Summer was… one of a kind.”

“She was the leader of my team. Back when I was just a punk kid at Beacon. Now, I had gotten pretty used to being on my own out in the wilds, so the whole “team” thing didn’t sit well with me. Or Raven for that matter. And on top of that my semblance just caused problems wherever I went, so I tried my damnedest to distance myself from the others.”

“Tried?” Maria interjected curiously.

“Yeah, tried would be the word,” Qrow chuckled “No matter what I tried, Sum wasn’t having it. She’d hunt me across campus to get me to participate in group studies, training sessions and whatever else she had for us. Hmph. It was kind of incredible how persistent she was. But then again, she was always uniquely strong-willed.”

The old huntsman shifted forward in his seat, sighing loudly. His hands rubbed together, jittering with anxiety. Knowing full well how this story ended; he struggled against the urge to reach for his flask. Grabbing his coffee as his only option, Qrow took a slow yet deliberate sip of the morning brew before setting it back down to speak again.

“Annoying as it may have been, I slowly strayed away less and less. I stopped altogether when she said something I honestly never thought I would hear. Care to know?”

“Do tell.”

“We’re a team, Qrow. We need you; I need you.” Qrow recalled with a delicate smile “I’d never been told that up until then. It was… nice to feel wanted.”

The old woman had never seen Qrow smile so often or so brightly before. Tempting as it may have been to tease him about opening up, Maria decided to let have his peace. He definitely needed it more than he let on; not that he’d ever admit it.

Maria then remarked with a posthumous compliment, “She must have been lovely.”

“That she was,” Qrow reaffirmed “Sweetest person I’ve ever met. Hell of a baker too. Oh what I’d give to have some of her cookies just one more time.” 

Summer’s cookies. Such a precious and well guarded secret of his little leader. Everybody loved them; Teachers and students alike. Hell, even Raven couldn’t resist scarfing down a tray or two. Qrow and his sister often fought for the last one, while just Taiyang tried to steer clear of their warpath. Another thing he missed so earnestly, yet seemed to slip from his memory. He closed his eyes in an attempt to remember the sweet aroma. Leaning back in his chair yet again, the fragrance of freshly baked cookies drowned his thoughts; even the stupid, frilly apron Summer used to wear.

“Y’know, I may be going out on a limb here, but from how you’ve spoken about this girl, there’s really only one answer.”

“And that is?” He wondered curiously.

“You loved her, didn’t you?”

While his vermilion eyes sank to the floor, a sharp exhale escaped his chest: 

“Yeah… I did.”

A now weary Qrow reached for inside of his dress shirt. Maria feared it was his flask again, but was somewhat relieved when he pulled out a photo instead. Once brought into full view, Qrow caressed the picture of his team, the exact spot where Summer stood. The old woman resonated with the forlorn hunter as he stared longingly at the photo. She very well knew the grief behind the loss of loved ones and didn’t dare to judge him as he pressed the image against his brow. As tears began to form in his eyes, Maria placed her hand on his shoulder, for whatever comfort it could provide him.

“Well, At least I know why you care for Ruby so much.” Maria said dryly.

“Hmmm? What are you talking about?” replied Qrow, puzzled by her statement.

“Ruby isn’t really your niece, is she?”

“Uhhh not technically, no. She’s…”

“Your Daughter?”

The words echoed in Qrow’s mind. He stared blankly into the old woman’s mechanical eyes, trying to swallow an immovable lump in his throat. His breathing grew noticeably heavy, as Maria sat solemnly waiting for a reply. Qrow clutched the photo again, with both hands this time. As a single tear came down upon his lover’s likeness, a heavy sigh let out. A lie came undone and a bitter truth passed his lips.

“Yes. She is.”

“What?” a voice said from behind them.

Qrow’s head snapped and swiveled towards the all too familiar voice. His fears were realized when his gaze met that of Ruby’s; her silver eyes tainted by her sobs. The rest of Team RWBY and JNPR stood by her side, shock plastered on each of their faces. Yang was in disbelief; It couldn’t be true, could it? It had to be a lie...

Before Yang could come up with an answer she liked, Ruby raced past her in a flurry of red flower petals. JNPR gave chase along with Oscar, while Yang, Blake and Weiss continued to gawk. Yang moved first towards her Uncle, eyes red with rage. Qrow slowly stood up in response and barely flinched as she slapped hard across the cheek. The young huntress turned to her friends, shifting between anger and sadness. Yang walked towards the exit, Blake and Weiss following behind her, but not before giving Qrow the dirtiest looks they could manage. Qrow’s niece spoke defiantly as she walked down the stairs.

“C’mon. Let’s go find my Sister.”

[sharkbombglomgold]

[drakepad] tomorrow will be beautiful

When Drake wakes up, it’s not slow or gentle; it’s knives on his skin, fire in his bones, and a particularly exuberant jack hammer in his brain. 

It feels like a normal Tuesday. Except, when he forces his eyes open, he’s not blinking up at his dark ceiling, his heavy curtains protecting him from the sun’s cheer. Instead, he’s squinting into painful fluorescent lighting, wondering just how hard he hit his head. “DW! You’re alive!”  He doesn’t jump at the voice, because he’s Darkwing Duck and nothing startles Darkwing Duck.

It’s also because the rest of his body refuses to move.

“Obviously,” Drake mutters, eyelids snapping shut. At the moment, he can only handle one assault on his senses and the voice is loud. “Could you keep it down, please?”

“Sorry!” the voice whispers, though even its whispers are loud and stage-like. It repeats, “DW! You’re alive!” with the same excitement as earlier and Drake’s headache somehow lessens.

“Of course I’m alive,” Drake retorts, trying to decide whether to reopen his eyes all at once or one at a time. “I’m Darkwing Duck! A simple...a simple... a simple, uh, what was I fighting again?”

“Aliens! An invasion! The moon!”

“Right! The...moon? The moon can’t stop me! I’m Darkwing Duck!” He may have said that already. 

It’s fine. It bears repeating.  “Nothing can stop Darkwing Duck!” the voice agrees with such conviction that Drake decides to rip the band-aid off and get it over with. His eyes pop open and he ignores the fuzzy edges that threaten to overtake his vision, the watery buildup. Launchpad is sitting next to his hospital bed, practically vibrating with a special kind of excitement that Drake is becoming increasingly familiar with. 

“You’re not wearing one of those hideous moon outfits. Does that mean we won?” “We did! I was a rock!” Even though it stretches his split beak and makes him want to scream a little, Drake allows himself a smile. That’s just so Launchpad. “I’m sure you were very brave for a lot of people.” “Uh, I guess so? I mostly just got fired into a spaceship window. Mr. McD had to dress like Santa, so I think he was the bravest of us all. The sharks in parkas did their part, too, though. Oh! And so did the giant sea bug thing that,” here, Launchpad lifts his hands and begins counting off on his fingers, “Dewey, Huey, Louie, Webby, Donald, Della, their cousin Fethry and their cousin Gladstone rode in on.”

One of the reasons Drake lo- likes Launchpad so much is that Launchpad is incapable of being facetious or lying; everything he says is exactly how he experiences it and how he feels.  If it were anyone else, Drake would assume he was being fed a story. 

But since it’s Launchpad, Launchpad is just looking at him earnestly, like everything coming out of his mouth is making sense. It’s in that moment that Drake realizes he’s still unconscious. He must be.

Especially because, when he shoots his gaze to the side, he notices that Launchpad is holding his hand. Casually. Like it’s a thing they do. 

“Hmm, that’s nice,” he says. This is a dream he doesn’t really want to wake up from. 

He squeezes Launchpad’s hand a few times, just because he can. “When we were hanging out at your place before the invasion, I wanted to straddle you and kiss you until you forgot how to fly a plane,” he admits, also just because he can.

Launchpad squeaks, turning a delightful shade of pink, and Drake takes pleasure in it. Nothing can go wrong in a coma dream.

“Uhhh, jokes on you,” Launchpad chuckles awkwardly, free hand scratching the back of his head and embarrassment still coloring his cheeks, “‘cause I forget how to fly a plan all the time.” Drake smirks, split beak still killing him. It’s weird that he’s hurting while dreaming.  “Cute. Anyway, when I wake up from this, I’m going to ask you out,” he says with the specific brand of confidence he usually reserves for wearing purple. He’s invincible when he’s Darkwing and he’s (probably) invincible when he’s in a dream.

“When you...wait, really??” Launchpad’s face, another thing Drake particularly likes about Launchpad, flickers through several emotions all at once.   “You have to say yes, though. Otherwise I’m not gonna do it.” Launchpad’s hand squeezes his own, tight enough that his healing bones might break all over again. It’s worth it. “You got it, DW,” Launchpad says, strangely sincere even for him.  Then, all at once, darkness begins to pool at the corners of Drake's vision. Maybe it’s the effects of the drugs bleeding through, or maybe it’s just time for the dream to come to an end. Either way, Drake feels himself succumbing to nothingness and goes willingly.  It's okay; something in him thrills at the idea of waking up.

- title from Seven by Sleeping At Last (x)

[morethanatitle]

Feel Like the First Time

A story in collaboration with @evanderofscots​. Read below the cut for the full story.

Evander waited anxiously throughout the day to see Erika again. Every time his door opened, he hoped it was her, come for the key, but she never did come, and Evander ate dinner rather more sullenly than usual, not even bothering to catch the eyes of the ladies at his table. He was too focused on what would happen afterwards. He had instructed his servants to make his office ready for them by bringing in fresh flowers - Chrysanthemums, as she had once told him meant commitment - and candles, along with a selection of desserts for them to share. His stomach was already turning nervously at the thought of discussing an arrangement between them, so perhaps they would go uneaten, but he wished to make it at least a romantic setting for them to start. After dinner, he went to his office quickly, pleased to find it to his liking, and began pacing as he waited for her to come.

She did her best to keep her focus, but there was only so much she could do. Luckily, the usual outspoken Kara did not say a word in regards to her behavior. Maybe she was hiding it better than she thought. With dinner, she ate her meal swiftly trying to not arouse suspicion. Then, she briskly wakes to his office once she gets as dismissed. Her mind was racing?How was this conversation even going to begin? Was he going to want a commitment? Would she allow him to have a casual relationship? She took a deep breath and knocked on the door, waiting for him to let her in.

Evander's head snapped up and his steps froze when he finally heard the knock at the door. He turned and took a deep breath, straightening his clothes anxiously, before he pulled the door open. When he saw her standing there, relief flooded through his chest. It wasn't like he hadn't believed she would come, but he had been so tense waiting for her all day, that to see her had him calmer already. He smiled sweetly at her and said, "You're here, at last," he stared at her a moment longer, lost in how beautiful she looked. How had he never noticed it this way before? He realized he had been standing there a moment to long and coughed awkwardly, stepping out of the way, "Come in, please," he said, sounding like an awkward school boy. Who was he right now?

Erika smiled when he opened the door. She was genuinely happy to see him again. It was clear that he was very nervous, which made her nervous that he regretted.  But when he said she was here and smiled, she relaxed a little. “I know what you mean. I have been waiting to see you again.” She wasn’t sure the proper greeting, so she came inside. Her eyes widened when she saw the scene in front of her. It was unbelievably romantic. “Evander, this is wonderful.” She felt like a giddy schoolgirl. Her head whipped back to him.  “Did you do all of this for me?”

Evander bit his nail and nodded, a bad habit he'd broken long ago, but it strangely resurfaced now. He pulled his hand from his mouth and asked, " Do you like it? " he walked over to one of the vases and pulled out a white chrysanthemum, walking over to her. He looked her in the eyes and gave her a boyish grin, "For you, my commander," and for the first time, the title rolled sweetly off his tongue.

She beamed as she kissed him on the cheek. ��I love it! That was so sweet.” He gave her a chrysanthemum and she tried to not let her smile fade. “You remembered...” She took the flower and smiled. “Thank you, chancellor.” Guilt was building inside her. He thought those were her favorite flower and remembered it. She would have to tell him later. “Where should I sit?”

When she reached to take the flower, he wished so strongly to touch her, to pull her close as they had been this morning, but all too soon she was turning away and asking where to sit. He had to remember that they were here for a reason, not just to get lost in each other again. Evander gestured to the small side table where dessert was arranged with a bottle of champagne and two chairs. But he didn't want to sit. Before she could, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back to him. Oh god, it felt good to have her close again. He touched her cheek and asked earnestly, " But before we do this, can we make one agreement with each other?" His eyes searched her, trying to see if she was as afraid as he was, "Let us not argue tonight, alright?"

She followed where he gestured. It was hard not to fall into his embrace, but if she focused on business now, they could enjoy themselves later if all went well. When he grabbed her by the wrist, her instinct kicked in to punch, but seeing his face stopped her from actually doing it. Fear was in her eyes, not sure he was going to do. She tried to stay calm as she nodded. “I agree.” She took a deep breath. “Can you also agree not to grab me by my wrist? I have had too many bad experiences associated with that, and I had to resist the urge to fight back just now.” She looked at him apologetically, knowing he did not mean to harm or scare her by doing that.

Evander blanched at her words, dropping her wrist suddenly. He would never try to hurt her, or at least he believed not, and to think another man had angered him. He clenched his jaw and nodded, "I'm sorry, Erika. I won't do it again." Instead he squeezed her hand softly and let out a deep shuddering breath. "Let's sit then, shall we?"

The distress was clear in his face, and she cold tell how sorry she was. She took her free hand and touched his cheek. “It’s alright. You didn’t know.” She gave him a soft smile and nodded. “Let’s go.” Her hand stayed with his as she sat on the couch with him. “So...how do we begin?”

Evander looked at their hand between them as he considered her question, toying with her fingers. He had thought a lot about what he wanted today. He still wasn't certain of a lot of things, but he had some idea of what things he wanted to keep. He spoke slowly, "The way I see it, there are two ways to start. I say what I want, or you say what you're willing to give me," he winced, not liking the way it sounded, "That doesn't sound right. This isn't just about me..."

She felt a punch in her gut with what he said. What you’re willing to give me. It made her feel like she was the one holding him back. He could retract what he said. Not in her mind. “Why don’t you start with what you are feeling and anything you want to say?”

Evander kept looking down and playing with her fingertips between his own. It helped him feel centered and connected to her, even as he said the things that he was so afraid to admit. When he spoke, it was slow and painful, "I... I've never had just one person in my life. I've never denied myself a temptation, and I've never wanted to, and I am not sure I am ready to stop that now." He twined his fingers in between hers and squeezed, pressing their palms together, "But more than that... I - I want to have something with you. Something good. Something.... real." He finally looked up to meet her eyes, " I've never been my true self with anyone but Alasdair, until now. I am not accustomed to being honest, with others or with myself, but you don't allow me to be anything less, and I think.... I think maybe I need that. I need you. " He didnt know if he made any sense, but it was what came out.

When he first began to speak, she felt her stomach writhe inside her, but she became good at keeping a straight face between her years in the military and her years as a nanny. The opportunity came up many times. She hoped that their time last night and this morning would have changed his mind. Maybe it didn’t mean as much to her as she thought. She had more hope when he talked about being different with her, but it was still hard to understand what he wanted. She knew he was just sorting out his feelings, so she didn’t get angry. She took a deep breath to collect her thoughts. “I don’t understand what that means for us. You aren’t sure if you can be committed, but you think you need it?”

"Evander sighed and picked up the chrysanthemum, twirling it between his finger tips. He had thought out an arrangement he thought he could live with, but he had no idea how she would react to it. He steeled himself and turned to meet her eyes, "I have given this a great bit of consideration today. I could bare loo y focus on any of my meetings," he chuckled half heartedly, "But I am open to your opinions and objections on almost any part. Please just give me the chance to lay it all out before you respond. " He took a slow deep breath, looking at the flower again as he started, "I do want to make a commitment to you, but in our own way." He started, meeting her eyes again and slipping the flower behind her ear, " A way that... allows me to figure out what it means for me. And I know no matter what I ask of you, its is selfish on some level, and I honor that. Whatever agreement we make will be a privilege." Evander bit his lip, trying to read her face as he went, but she was good at remaining neutral. A part of him appreciated that. This was hard enough to get out as it was. "The longest romance I've ever had was 7 months. I was with my wife for 11, but we never cared for each other." Evander swallowed, "I want to make a commitment to you for at least one year. One year during which I will learn what it means to honor you as my own. And it does not mean that our agreement from last night does not stand. If either of us is truly unhappy we are free to leave, no questions asked. But by the same token, I will promise not to run because I've got bored, or frustrated, or scared. I will make an honest effort to stay and work through the parts I've always avoided." Evander dropped his eyes again, grabbing both of her hands and rubbing circles into the backs of then with his thumbs. However, within boundaries that you may set, I will not stop seeing other women during that time. There may be weeks when we must be parted, and it is proper for a man of my position to present a lady on his arm at diplomatic events. And you know already the consequence of my nights alone...." He swallowed hard and looked back up at her, he needed reassurance now that he'd gotten it all out. "Please tell me I'm not mad...."

After everything that happened, she hoped he had changed his mind. He had slept better than he had in a long time. All of the sweet words of being excited to see her again. All of that was downgraded from this proposition. Her eyes started to well up with tears. He hopefully couldn’t see that. She closed her eyes tightly and moved her gaze down to their joined hands. Her hands were trembling as she tried to remain calm and composed. He was clearly keeping her feelings and the unfairness of the situation in mind. He was being understanding of the terms she had already set. She had to accept that there was no situation that was what she wanted. She stayed silent as he spoke, trying to hear him out as much as possible. Maybe this would be a trial that would reward her for enduring this time. What she felt with him was special, and she didn’t want to miss the chance to be with him. With him asking for reassurance, she took one more deep breath before looking him in the eye, hoping her eyes did not show that she was trying not to cry. “You’re not mad. You are confused, and you don’t know what is best for you. I appreciate you taking my feelings into consideration. I can agree to your plan, but I have a few conditions to add of my own. I expect you to hear me out as I did with you before objecting any of my points.” It was hard to keep thinking straight before speaking, so she let go of his hands. “First, we do not show our commitment publicly. I do not accompany you to social events, and we do not show any public displays of affection. If we were known to others as romantically involved and then you are seen with other women, it can be dangerous. Second, we can tell Svala and Alasdair, but that is the only ones who shall know. They cannot even tell their spouses. If any servants are used to prepare meals or things for both of us, we shall not disclose who the second person is to them. Servants can be horrible gossips. Third, I will still remain your confidant and friend, but I do not want to hear about the other women. If one of them becomes serious enough that you feel a similar connection that you do to me, that is when we will discuss them.” She swallowed hard and closed eyes to suppress tears once again before looking back to him. “Until we have that discussion, you may not have any similar commitments to others as you do to me. No mistresses or women you support financially.” She tried to think of any other reasons to mention before remembering a last one. “I do not attend many events where I am asked to have an escort, but if one should arise, I will seek for another man, but it will be purely for the event without any romantic entanglement. Finally, with any women you bed, take the proper measures to not conceive a child. That would complicate your feelings if that should happen.” She sighed before looking him again. “Can that be something you can agree to?

He felt sick as he watched her face fall and years well in her eyes. He wasn't good enough for her, and he knew it. But he didn't know how to give himself over to her completely. He was certain that without these crutches, he would fuck up in some way much worse than what she was feeling now. He hated that she let go of his hands, his own balling into fists as he resisted the urge to wipe away her tears. But he listened intently to her conditions, considering each one. The first two he had already expected. They had discussed as much last night, but the third concerned him. Not because he imagined any one else would become as close to him as she was, but because  he had a women to whom he had promised the position of mistress already, but he would have to address that in a moment. He was not surprised when she insisted on her own right to be escorted by other men. If she had wanted to bed other men when they were apart he would not have stopped her. It would only have been fair, but still a small part of him felt relief that she did not wish to. Her last stipulation was no concern at all. He had always been careful with every woman. He had no interest in the burden of a child. Once she finished he looked her in the eyes and said sincerely, "I can agree to all of that, except..." he sighed bringing up his one contention, something he didnt want to bring into this beautiful space between them after how it had nearly ruined them last night, but it had to be discussed, "What of Katherine? She has already given herself to me, the damage there is done. And as I told you last night, she is scheduled to return in two weeks for the Celtic New Year. I think you would agree it would be an unfair punishment to cancel her trip with no explanation after that." He sighed and reached for her hand, but he did not take it, uncertain how she would feel about being touched when he was talking about another woman. "If it is what you wish, I will end things with her then." He looked up to her from beneath his lashes, "Is that acceptable for you?"

With the mention of Katherine, she had to stand up and walk away. She has to be able to think logically, and being near him made it difficult. As she started to pace, she started to bite her lip, a little quirk she did when she was thinking through something. She did not want to be rude to the poor girl, but at the same time she felt that she was manipulating Evander into marriage with such an agreement. After a few moments of thinking it through, she turned back to him. “When she returns, you will tell her about what has happened between us and the arrangement we have made. She is sworn to secrecy, and if she breathes a word about us to anyone, you will cut off all ties with her.” Her hand went to her forehead as she felt a headache coming on. The next part she didn’t know what to do. “In this plan of yours, what were you planning to do with her if you decided to commit to me?

Evander stood when she did, startled by her sudden motion. He was so scared h÷ had done something fatally wrong as she put the distance of the small room between them. He wanted to chase her, but he remembered what had happened when he grabbed her wrist and remained still. Once he heard her decision, he breathed out. He didn't want to tell Katherine the truth about what was happening here, but he should have known that would be her stipulation. She had told him what she hated most was when he manipulated girls. "Yes, Erika," he responded simply, but firmly. It hurt him to see her massaging her temples. He didn't want this to turn into something sour. They weren't supposed to argue. When she asked him what he had intended to do if he did commit to her, he floundered. His brows creased and he cursed in gaelic under his breath. "If I'm honest, I didn't think that far ahead." He hated to admit it, but he had no idea what he would do. In most prior cases, he had just sent them on their way, sometimes with some financial help.

She was happy that he was willing to agree to her stipulations regarding telling her the truth. This girl did not deserve to be blind-sided by their commitment down the road. This also might make the girl change her mind. Knowing Evander, she figured this was the case. She had a sneaking suspicion that he has not planned what would happen with Katherine if he did commit to her. She took a deep breath to keep herself from getting angry or rubbing in that she was right about him not getting involve in these things. “Well, now you need to think that far ahead,” she said firmly and matter-of-factory. “If in a year from now, you decide to commit to me, what would you do involving Katherine?”

Evander twisted his fingers in his hair and plopped back onto the couch. That was a lot to think about in an instant. What would he do with Katherine? He had never given much care to what happened to the girls he toyed with before. He rubbed his hands down his face, steeping his fingers in front of his face as he thought. He couldn't decide this now, not while making a decision that Erika would agree with. He looked up at her from across the room and said, "Can I have a couple days to consider a plausible plan? Please?"

She froze in her tracks and looked away. "Of course...Take all the time that you need." She nodded before moving to rest her hands on his desk, looking straight at the wood. The flower in her hair fell to the desk by her hand, but she didn't even try to pick it up. Right now, she just was trying to figure out what to do next. How could they even move forward with this unanswered thing between them? She didn’t even know what she thought about his uncertain answer. “If this arrangement is too much,” she said, still not looking at him. “you can end it right now. I won’t get angry or resent you for it. We can end this now, and you don’t have to live under my rules and conditions. You’ll be free.”

The way she agreed left a pit in Evander's stomach. He could tell that not having this answer left her uneasy, but he wanted the time to make a decision that she could be proud of. He'd always acted thoughtlessly, and for her, he was finally trying to think things through. He watched her tensely as she leaned on his desk, frowning when the flower fell from her hair. He wanted so badly to go to her, to brush her hair back from her face and tuck the flower securely back into place. At her next words, he paled. No, no, no. This was not how this was supposed to go. He couldn't help himself anymore, he crossed over to her in three long strides. He had to be near her, but the way she stood he didn't know how. He stood behind her, and spoke slowly, his voice trembling, as he stepped forward and slowly put his hands outside of hers on the top of the desk so that she stood inside the circle of her arms with her back to him. "Erika, I want this arrangement more than I have ever admitted to wanting anything," Slowly, he dropped his head to rest between her shoulder blades. The sudden warmth of her grounded him, and he sighed contentedly. He lifted his head and gave her an inch of space, "Please look at me?" He didn't know if she would or not, but he had to explain, "I only ask for time so that I can come up with a plan that isna cruel, because if you asked me what my answer would be now, it would be to send her home without notice. I would not care what happened to her when I have the jewel of you in front of me, and I know that is not what you want to hear." He sighed heavily, wanting her eyes so badly, but he knew he was already being far too intrusive. He simply couldn't let this space he felt in the air widen between them. When he spoke again, his voice broke, "I want this, Erika. I need this. I-I want to try to be the man you want me to be...

Her eyes slammed shut as he spoke. The tears formed in her eyes and broke through her eyelids so that some tears fell down her cheeks or dropped into the desk. She stayed where she was until he finished. He was trying so hard to do the right thing. If he impulsively chose, he would chose her. While that made her happy to think she would be chosen, it was still the idea that this previous agreement stood between them. Feeling him over her, she tried to not shudder. Having him so close and feeling his warmth made it harder not to cry. Why couldn’t this be easy? Why couldn’t they just be committed and be happy? She exhaled before standing upright and turning to meet him. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I know you are trying to do the right thing. But...I don’t want you trying to be the man I want you to be. I want you to work to the man you want to be. Not because of me or because it is the type of man I expect. Just like I know you wouldn’t want me to change solely to please you.”

Feeling her turn around in his arms, Malec raised his eyes to look at her. he tears staining her cheeks tore at his heart. Was he destroying her by asking this? That wasn't what he wanted. She was strong, and fierce, and hard as stone. That was what he lo-... what drew him to her. He swallowed hard and brought one hand up slowly to brush the tears from her cheeks. "You make me want to be that man, Erika. I-I just don't know how, and I am terrified that If I do not set these expectations honestly now, I would end up fucking up and hurting you worse anyway."

She was understanding more that he was doing this for good reasons. He truly thought he wasn’t capable of a relationship. She gave the smallest smile and nodded. “I understand...” Her eyes came to meet his. “Pending how we agree to handle Katherine, I think I can accept this arrangement.”

Evander rested his hand on the side of her neck, relaxing just a bit as a weak smile finally came to her lips. He returned it, the relief clear in his eyes as he gasped, "Oh, Erika..." He wasn't sure what to say. What did one say at a moment like this. He was also starkly aware that she had not fully accepted it yet, and that made him wary. He didn't want to hold back with her anymore, and he would have to if she had not fully accepted their arrangement, wouldn't he? He sighed, "I will not make any decision for Katherine that is not to your satisfaction, I swear it," He told her. With a tense exhale, he brought his other hand up to cusp the opposite side of her neck and leaned his forehead against hers. His voice came out on the breath of a prayer, "Please, Erika, please just say you will be mine, and it will be the greatest privilege anyone has ever offered me."

Having his hands cradling her neck had this calming sense about her. She closed her eyes to focus on the connection between them, both physical and emotional. Just get through this time. Get through this and he will come to you. Your patience will be rewarded. Her eyes opened to look at his. “I am yours.”

As her eyes met his with those words, all of Evander's breath escaped him in a huff. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding it so tightly. Those three words were like air to Evander, he needed them to live, and now he could breathe again. "And I am yours," He swore on a gasp before his lips were on hers, kissing her fiercely, with a need so deep he did not know how to contain it.

Her smile grew when he said he was hers. The headache that formed earlier slowly vanished as he kissed her. She pulled herself close to him, allowing them to enjoy this moment. Her hands moved around his neck. This was a moment that almost made her forget everything else. It was as if in his arms the rest of the world vanished.

Evander moaned in her mouth as he felt her pull herself closer and wrap her arms around his neck. It was what he had needed to desperately, since last night. To be tangled up in her again, to drown in this strange emotion that felt ob so good yet oh so terrifying. He opened his mouth her her, pushing his tongue inside, and suddenly grabbed her hips, lifting her up onto the desk.

His moan caused her to shiver. She loved hearing the sounds him moaning. She moved to tangled her hands into his hair. A gasp escaped her as he lifted her onto the desk. Her legs spread so that he could be closer and his body could settle between them.

When her legs opened to him, he thought he might die right there as he slid in between them. He pulled her hips hard against his on the edge of the desk, and let his mouth venture away from her lips, kissing hungrily down the length of her neck.

When he broke away from her lips, she started to pant and wondered why he stop. Then he found her weakness. She moaned and leaned her neck to give him the most access. Her legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer.

When she moaned, he lost all control, growling and sucking hard on the spot he'd found on her neck. As he legs wrapped around him, he couldn't handle it any more. If she was going to be like this, it needed to be with far less clothing. He pulled back gasping, "Is this really how he want this to happen?"

He found the sweet spot on her, and she tangled her hands into his hair. Her breathing was heavy when he finally pulled back. “It’s not the ideal place,” she replied. “I just was so caught up in the moment. Should we move this elsewhere?” As she regained a more steady breathing pattern, she placed a hand on her head. “I’m a little lightheaded,” she replied with a chuckle. “We have barely begun and you have taken so much out of me.”

Evander laughed with her. He felt lightheaded too, but in a way far more satisfying than any liquor. He cupped her cheek and met her eyes his shining with lust and admiration equally. "We can stay here, or we can go elsewhere. Its doesna matter to me." He told her, his eyes softening, "But I don't want to take ye like yer some prize I've just won. You deserve more than that."

She smiled and leaned into his touch. “I know you don’t see me that way.” Her eyes went to the rest of the room. “Well, we are going to use a lot of energy tonight,” she looked back him with a smirk. “And I don’t want to waste it. Maybe we eat your wonderful spread and then continue this in one of our chambers?”

He smirked in return. He'd had plans for some of those desserts, and he was more than delighted by her idea. With one modification, "How about we take the dessert with us back to my chambers," he said adamantly, but with a mischievous tone.

Erika smiled. “That seems like a wonderful idea.” She tried to look and see how she could help move the desserts. “Now how can I help? I can take some of these trays over.”

Evander chuckled. Honestly when he'd told the servants to prepare a variety of desserts for them, he hadn't meant for them to bring 3 trays full. He was sure some of them would go to waste, but he planned to leave the rest to be enjoyed by whichever guests he had to entertain the following day. Evander walked over to the table and picked up the tray with the desserts he'd already had his eye on, then turned back to her, "This will be more than enough. Besides, we would be rather conspicuous walking through the corridors with a buffet, and we are trying not to draw attention. "With that he stepped forward and held a hand out to her, "Shall we?"

“That is a very good point,” she replied as she looked at the desserts he picked. “Should we blow out all of these candles before leave?” She replied. Her eyes went to his hand, and she chuckled. “Wouldn’t is holding hands while walking outside this room also draw some attention to ourselves?”

He dropped his hand, realizing that she was right. He wanted to keep touching her so badly, but he supposed he could handle waiting the few minutes it would take them to make it to the room. He shook his head in response to her question, moving to the door. "My footmen will handle all of that, and I do not have the patience to wait," he said with a smirk, and held the door open for her.

She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “Well, that makes things better for me.” The blonde nodded as he opened the door. “Thank you,” she replied before walking out the door. She led them to his chambers. Luckily their times talking in each other’s chambers allowed her to know where they were. Once they arrived, she held out her hand. “Would you like me to unlock the door?”

As they approached his chambers, Evander's heart started to race. He had planned for this, anticipated this, and it wasn't like she hadn't been there before. But this was different. He'd never had someone he was intimate with like this in his space before, and he began to grow nervous. When they reached the door, he gave her a smile which he hoped masked his unease, and said, "The key is in my right pocket," after all, it was only fair when he still had hers.

When he mentioned where his keys were, she reached into his pocket to pull out the keys. She took a moment before pulling the keys out to brush her fingers against the inside of his pocket to tease his upper thigh. With a flicker of mischief in her eye, she took the keys out and unlocked the door. Erika felt nervous as she came to his bedroom. It was starting to settle in. Compared to him, she was not nearly as experienced. Not to mention, they had been building up this moment for a long time. Now she was going to have to prove herself. What if she disappointed him? What if after this he would decide she was not worth it? Her heart started pounding in her chest as she walked into the room and turned back towards him.

Evander could have groaned at the feeling of her fingers brushing his thigh, but he contained himself, waiting anxiously for the door to open. Once they were inside, Evander set them on a low table by the hearth where a thick fur rug adorned the floor. When he turned back to Erika, he saw that anxiety had creeped into her eyes as well and he went to her immediately, closing the door as he went. He grabbed her hands, looking into her eyes, "Having you here feels like a dream," he looked down again, swallowing. It did feel like a dream, but he didn't know yet if it was exciting or terrifying. He looked up to her with a mixture of nerves and excitement in his eyes, "I want this to be special."

Erika waited for him to finish and tried to keep herself calm. Clearly, she was not doing this quite well when he came up to her. She could see there was concern on her face. "I feel like I am dreaming," she said with a smile. He was trying to shard to calm her and make her feel at ease, but her heart was still pounding in her chest. "I have to be honest...I have been with other men, but it has been....over a decade." Her face turned bright red in embarrassment. "I am afraid of underperforming..."

Evander's eyes widened at her confession, but he tried hard to hide his surprise. He had suspected she was not a virgin, but he never would have thought it had been so long. He could never imagine going such a time without connection and release. Evander cupped her reddening cheek, steering her eyes back up to his, "It is your enjoyment that brings me pleasure. There is nothing more or less you could do for me." He kissed her gently, lingering, but without the immediate need that had fueled him earlier. When he pulled back, he met her eyes again and confessed, "I am afraid as well. Of showing too much of me, that you might not like what you see." Evander sighed and looked down, "Erika..." he brought his eyes back up to hers intensely, "I have never lain with anyone in my own quarters before." Even with Alasdair, it had always been his chambers, or office, or captain's quarters, or the war room... but never in Evander's own space.

She saw his reaction, and she chuckled. "I know. When it has been that long, I might as well be a virgin." It was her hope that warning him would make sure he was not disappointed. "But I want you to feel pleasure too." She smiled and leaned into the kiss, enjoying the sweet intimacy that wasn't directly leading into something more primal. Her eyebrows shot up when he said he was nervous too. He had been with plenty of women. Then, he explained his situation and she gave him a soft smile. Her hand went to cup his cheek. "There isn't anything that I could see tonight that I wouldn't like. Because it is all what makes up who you are." She pulled herself as close as she could where she could still look at him in the eye. "You said that you could always be more open and honest with me than anyone else. That hasn't changed."

Evander leaned into her touch, revelling in the warmth of it. Somehow she made him feel light headed, despite the fact that he was still sober. Then he gently grasped her hand from the side of his face as well as her other one, and led her over to sit on the plush furs on the floor. His servants kept the hearth roaring at all hours awaiting his arrival as he often stumbled in late at night, so it was warm in the low light. He looked at the platter of desserts and asked her, "what catches your eye?"

Her eyes stayed with him as he followed her to the floor. During their times together, she always enjoyed these rugs. They were so soft and welcoming, and she always welcomed the chance to sit on them. She settled herself on the rugs with her skirts tucked underneath her. "What is the dark brown one? It looks like chocolate." Erika had quite the sweet tooth, especially once she learned about chocolate.

Evander chuckled as he looked at the platter and reached for the one she indicated, "To be honest, I am never quite sure what they are until I bite into them. Our chef likes to get creative from time to time. He held the pastry up gently to her lips for her to bite and asked her, "Would you play a game with me, Erika?"

Her eyebrow raised. "I thought with such a romantic gesture, you would have carefully chosen every dessert, but I suppose this is more fun." She smirked with him playfully and nodded. "What is the game?"

Evander looked down, chagrined at not having been as meticulous as she assumed, but returned her gaze with a boyish smile. "It is one we would play as sailors at sea, when we were bored and not drunk enough," he chuckled lightly, although he had an idea for a twist on the drinking game. "It's called Never have I ever. You state something havna ever done, and if the other has, they take off a piece of clothing," he laughed, meeting her eyes with a twinkle in his own. "Well usually we would drink, but I thought this might be more fun for us."

Erika was intrigued. This was going to be an interesting game, and she was looking forward to it. "I think that this will be fun. Can I go first?" She looked him up and down. What could she easily say to get him to remove some clothing? Her eyes lit up. "Never have I ever been intimate with more than ten people."

Evander smirked, excited to see what she would start with. At her answer, he scoffed, throwing his head back, "That is far too easy to be fair," he told her, but he unclipped his sigil pin from his tartan and pulled the fabric off his shoulder, tossing it aside. He had long ago lost count of his conquests. He looked back to her with a raised eyebrow, "Happy, my commander?" He asked mockingly. He grabbed a lemon tart off of the tray and took a bite as he considered his own, rubbing his hands together. Once he decided on his answer, his smirk only deepened, "Never have I ever been to Norway," he said, his voice darkly delighted.

She chuckled. "Isn't the point to start with simpler things?" Her eyes watched him remove his tartan before waiting or him to speak. She rolled her eyes. "And you said mine was far too easy?" She moved and undid the outermost skirt. Once she brought it over her head, she placed it beside his tartan. "Let's be more challenging, shall we? Never have I ever lied to get someone into bed."

Evander's eyes turned dark for a moment at he statement, but his returning growl was playful. He knew she was not saying it as an insult, but rather another easy win, and he would not fault her for that. As he unclipped his belt, pulling his pockets away from his hips and dropping them clamorously onto the pile pf their clothes, he snapped playfully, "Perhaps we should be drinking." With that he looked up in thought as he tried to come up with another confession. "Never have I ever..." He chewed the inside of his cheek and thought, searching for something that might truly surprise her, "Kissed my mother." He said plainly, it was an odd one, but one that had come to his mind when playing this before. His mother had never been a warm person, and had always favored his older brother. As a result the two had never formed much of a bond, and as he'd gotten older, their dynamic had only become more strained with Evander's antics until she'd sent him away to live at court.

She let out a sigh and shook her head. “My mother died when I was 13, and we were not particularly close when she was alive.” A small smile came to her face to reassure him that it was okay if he didn’t know. She tried to go past the obvious to make things interesting. “Never have I ever been intimate with two people at the same time.”

Evander gave her a sympathetic look and reached for her hand, squeezing it. "I'm sorry to hear that. My mother sent me away when I was about the same age. That's how I ended up here," He said, gesturing to the palace around them. Then he leaned in and gave her a sinister half smile and joked, "Does that mean yer not takin' off another piece of clothing?" At her next question, Evander laughed, picking a cherry up off the tray of desserts and popping it into his mouth before he started unbuttoning his tunic. "Two, three..." Evander looked up and too the side as if considering for a minute, "Once nearly four, but she got shy," He told her jovially as he finished the buttons and shrugged his tunic off from over his shirt, tossing it aside. Suddenly he remembered her rule about not wanting to hear about him with other women, and his smile faltered, looking back to her. "Do ye not want to hear those types of things?"

“Mother did not approve of me learning how to fight, and if my father didn’t insist, she pull have probably sent me away too.” She had to admit she was a difficult child. She shook her head. “Well, I have never done that, so that is the rule, isn’t it?” She grabbed one of them that looked like chocolate and took a bite. A moan escaped her. “There’s a delicious filling in this chocolate pastry. I don’t know what it is.” She smirked as she watched him remove another item. “Thank you for remembering. I don’t mind past exploits. I just don’t want to hear about anything current.”

Evander nodded in understanding. it seemed they were kindred spirits in more ways than he had known. The sound she made as she bit into the dessert was sinful, and it made Evander's breath catch. As she raved about the taste he leaned in closer and spoke seductively, "Well perhaps I could figure it out for you..." With that, he pressed his lips to hers slowly, but hungrily, sliding his tongue into her mouth and tasting the chocolate on her tongue. She was right, it was delicious, but so was she. When he finally pulled back he was panting as he whispered, "I still amna certain, but something sinful to be sure." He chuckled lowly.

She couldn’t help but chuckle as she leaned into the kiss. Her hand cupped his face as she let him deepen the kiss. She knew he was just finding any reason to kiss her, but she was not going to object. “Mmmmm...” she hummed softly as they broke away. She moved to try what looked like a strawberry tart. “I do believe it is your turn now...” she replied, gesturing to their clothing pile.

He smiled at her as he watched her lips wrap around the tart. Slowly he was becoming fascinated with every little thing about her. The way she smirked as she chewed, the way she wrapped her fingers in the fur of the carpet to feel the sensation when they had sat down. All new and glorious. He though for a moment before saying, "Never have I ever fought a woman other than you."

She chuckled and sighed. “I have only fought for practice with Svala, but I would gather that still counts.” Her fingers went to untie the strings of the second outerskirt, leaving her in her petticoat. Her eyebrows quoted at his question. “Never have I ever been defeated by a woman in a duel.”

Evander scoffed, "You really are out to humble me, aren't ye?" He responded lightly as he pulled his under shirt over his head. The heat of the fire on his exposed skin seemed almost too intense on top of the heat of being near her, but he didn't care. He just wanted her skin on his, and how he was down to nothing but his kilt and his socks for a true Scotman never wore knickers, "Never have I ever held a bairn."

She chuckled. “Did you think that would stop? If so, you will be disappointed. Noticing some leftover cream on her finger, she slowly licked her finger clean while watching him undress. Her eyes brightened when she thought of the next one, but she stopped in shock. “Never? Not even the Scottish prince?” She sighed as she unlaced her bodice and discarded it. This left her in her socks, petticoat, bustle and shift. The shift was all she wore for undergarments. “Never have I ever...” Her cheeks went red. There was a proper term for the act, but she couldn’t remember it. “...been given pleasure by a man...” She gestured to her nether region to get the point across.

Evander's arousal stirred to watch her lick her finger clean. The energy in the air between them was building in a way he had never experienced, the anticipation almost to sweet to handle. He laughed at her disbelief. "Never! I was to afraid I'd drop him. And Alasdair agreed." Evander's breath grew heavy as he watched her unlace her bodice, hungry for the day he would have the opportunity to do it himself. He creased his eyebrows at her confession, and his surprise spit forth unceremoniously, "You mean with his mouth?" He asked. He was suddenly unsure how to answer, for Alasdair had pleasured him with his tongue before, but she could not know that. So he asked, "Do ye mean to ask me if I have by a woman then?"

She couldn't help but chuckle. "We will teach you how to do it the way we do with young children. We can sit you down on a chemise with pillows under your arms and then let you hold him." She looked at him carefully with his response.  She nodded. "I have done it many times for the men, but I have never had a man use his mouth for me that way. It wasn't until I met Svala that I knew this was possible to give to a woman." She nodded again. "Yes. Have you had a woman pleasure you like that wth her mouth before?"

At her confession, Evander slid his hand slowly under her petticoat, starting at her ankle, watching his progress until his hand reached her hip and his eyes met hers, "I could show you pleasure that way, if you wanted." After a moment, his eyebrows creased though, putting 2 and 2 together from her words and something Svala once said. And he asked, "Wait, had Svala pleasured you so?" Had she lain with a woman? He wondered for a.moment if she would be more understanding of his relations with Alasdair but the consideration was far more dangerous for men than women. He squeezed the warm skin of her hip and nodded, "I have received pleasure that way," and reached down to pull off his socks with his free hand." Before returning his gaze to her and touching the side of her face tenderly, "Never have I ever been in love."

He left goosebumps in his wake as he trailed up her leg. She bit her lower lip instinctually. He was building the anticipation for the night's events even more now. "I would like that..." Just when she was about to say to finish the game now and to begin the night's activities, he asked about Svala. She was speaking so honestly that she didn't realize what she said.. "Before Erik..." she replied with a sigh, "I served under Svala's army, and when I became her commander we became close. But we kept our intimate relationship a secret to keep her prospects open for marriage as a future queen. Once she met Erik, we stopped our dalliances, and we slowly evolved to a friendship." At his next challenge, she froze and thought for a long moment. There were men she thought she loved, and she cared for Svala but never truly romantically loved her. As she looked back at him, she wondered if that was the new feeling she had with Evander. But he didn't say it either. What if he asked who she loved? So, she sighed and shrugged. "Neither have I."

Evander took in her lover's tale with interest. It was so similar to his own with Alasdair he longed to tell her his truth. But the rumor of a King being a mollyboy was dangerous, and a risk that Evander would never take. It was the one secret Evander would take to the grave, no matter how long he was with her. When she confessed that she too had never known love, his breath caught and he squeezed her hip. He cupped her cheek as he looked into her eyes and said, "I hope that's what this is" as he leaned in slowly, resting his forehead against hers and brushing the tips of his nose back and forth against her own. He felt so strongly drawn to her and he was tired of holding back. He sighed, "Oh Erika, what are you doing to me?"

Her face beamed when he hoped that was what this was. It gave her hope as well that what she was to him would last beyond this trial period. "Gods, so do I..." she whispered closely to him. When he squeezed her neck, her nipples had hardened and were starting to show under her shift. Since the bottom of the shift was pulled tight by the petticoat and bustle, Her arousal was more obvious compared to last night. "I could ask you the same question." She chuckled and looked at the last piece of cloth that he had on his body. "If I count clothing items, it appears I am winning at this game. Never have I ever been intimate wth someone in a place where we could be caught."

Evander chuckled on so close to her. He'd had sex in questionable places too many times to count. It was far too easy for her to list things she'd never done that he had, for there wasn't much he hadn't done. He kissed her quickly, biting her lip in a quick nip before saying ,"I could do that for you too, if you like," he said in a sultry tone, "But it does appear you've won. So come take your prize..."

"Perhaps if we decide to be public, I will consider it." She smirked playfully as she looked him up and down. "Well, there's one thing left to remove before I can claim it..." She put her fingers on the waist of the kilt and searched for a way to undo it. "Never have I ever unfastened a kilt..." she replied with a joke." Her eyes went to his, and she felt like you could feel her heart pounding from inside her chest.

Evander laughed and placed his hands on hers, guiding them to the sigil pin that kept it closed on the right side, before trailing his hands up her arms to her neck and leaning in to kiss her collar bone as he whispered, "Ye'll be used to it soon."

A moan escaped her as he went to kiss his neck. She let it linger for a moment, before she pulled away. She removed the pin and the kilt before leaving it on the discard pile wth the other clothes. Her hands went to undo the bustle so that it also fell on the pile with her petticoat. She went back towards him in just her shift. Her eyes met his once again before going down to look at all of him. He was certainly bigger than any man she had been with, and she looked back up and moved close to him. "You gave me the honor of removing the last piece. I thought I would extend the same privilege to you."

Evander growled hungrily as she pulled away to remove her own clothes, desperate to have her in his grasp, but as he saw her eyes travel down to his waist, he smirked. She had made far too many jokes about him, and now they were coming home to roost. As she came back to him he reached eagerly for her hips, pulling her to straddle his waist, resting on his thighs. He groaned at her proposition, kissing her neck once more. "And what a privilege it is," he said, pulling the shift over her head and seeing her in all her glory. Her skin was beautiful, though the fire light danced over the scars of battle. And suddenly he wanted to learn every one. "You are.... incredible," he breathed, using her own words.

She followed his movements as she went down to straddle him. A moanful sight came when he kissed her neck. Her red cheeks burned like the fire when she found herself exposed to him. No one had seen her bare in years, and she had much more scars since then. Was he comparing her to other women? She sighed with relief when he used her words. Her hands traced along his own battle scars. What a strange connection they shared in that moment. "Incredible does not even begin to describe you..." Her hands trailed down his torso. "And now...I would like to claim my prize..." As her hand went towards his shaft, she looked at him for permission to continue.

Evander's breath shuttered as she traced his scars, mirroring her own. So many little connections between them that seemed to stitch together like threads, drawing them together. When the warmth of her hand enveloped his shaft, his breath caught. The pleasure was searing and instant, even without her having done anything and all he could ay as she met his eyes was, "Please..."

She exhaled her breath as she slowly started to stroke him. As she kept that motion, her lips started a trail of kisses from his neck and to every scar on his torso until her lips were right beside her hand. Her eyes went up to him for a brief moment before she placed her mouth over the tip.

Evander was lost in her. Every single touch was more intense than he had ever experienced. As she kissed down his torso he gasped her name, his head falling back and his fingers twining in the fur of the rug. He wasn't used to ceding control at times like this, but he didnt care enough to stop her, and he was glad he didnt when he looked up for an instant and saw her eyes looking up at him from between his legs. He nearly could have climaxed then, and when her mouth went around his shaft it was ecstasy. "Erika!" he groaned, falling back onto the rug, his hand reflexively going to twist in her hair as pleasure flooded up his spine.

He was giving her the encouragement that she needed right now. Her hand went to the base of his shaft as her head moved up and down. After a few times up and down, she would wrap her mouth on just the tip and circle it with her tongue before going  back down. She was getting braver with her actions. Hopefully she was continuing to do the right things to keep him interested.

He had been with brazen women before, but somehow, Erika was different. Without even trying her tongue seemed to find every single sweet spot. In those moments, she controlled him, body and soul as he moaned into the room so loudly it echoed. But he knew if he let her continue, it would be over far too soon. So he tightened his grip on her pony tail and pulled her back. He sat up quickly, bringing his face to hers as he panted, "Your lips are the devil's doing," He growled before shoving his mouth hungrily over hers.

The sounds coming out of his mouth were music to his ears. Now she was addicted to pull those out of him again. But too soon he was pulling her off. She chuckled as he kissed her deeply. She readjusted herself to where she was sitting on his thighs. Her hands rested on his chest as she allowed him to make the next move about how to proceed. She wanted to see what he would decide to do next.

Evander kissed her deeply, moaning at the heat of her settling onto his thighs. He was throbbing, but he wanted to make this last, so without warning, he rolled them, hooking her knee over his hip and pressing her into the plush fur of the rug. His lips travelled down her neck again as his hand snaked between them to find the sweet spot between her thighs and began to rub.

Just as she got comfortable on his lap, she felt him move her. She gasped and giggle as she realized what was happening. So many sensations filled her body at once. The plush rub against her bare back. His lips getting close to the sweet spot on her neck. The feeling of his hands moving down her body. Her whole body shivered from the overwhelming feelings. She loved every minute. He started to rub, and she moaned. Her hips lifted against his hand.

Evander bit into her neck suddenly as she marched into him, the feeling of her bare bosom pressing into his chest driving his primal nature. She was already so slick between her thighs, but he wanted to bring her pleasure before taking his own, and so he kissed lower until his lips wrapped around her nipple, sucking hungrily, and he allowed one finger to slip into her core, massaging inside skillfully."

He was not wasting any time. She moaned louder as he started sucking her nipple. His name fell from her lips just before his finger went inside her. Once he did that, she practically growled. “Fuck...”she muttered as her body processed the new wave of sensations he was causing.

When his name fell from her lips, something inside him snapped, flooding him with a sense as if he had been waiting for something his whole life and how he had it. He had her. He growled and brought his face back up close to hers, leaning their foreheads together as he slipped a second finger inside of her and circled her clit with his thumb as he tried to coax forth her ultimate pleasure. He growled in her ear, "Say it again," before biting into her neck once more.

Her mind started to grow foggy as the pleasure began to build. She felt him move towards her, and she barely processed his request. What did he want? Say what? Then she realized what she had said. His name. It took a lot to call out a partner’s name in bed for her. When he inserted the second finger and circled her clit simultaneously, she did what he wanted instinctually. “Evander...” she growled as she arched into his touch, desperate for more.

His name on her lips washed over him with ecstacy, and he knew he couldn't wait any longer. He pulled his fingers from her and aligned himself with her entrance, the heat of her already having his throbbing. He grabbed her hip hard, supporting his weight with the other arm as he pulled back to looking her eyes, his questioning as he gasped, "Erika...?"

When he removed his fingers, she let out a gasp as her body was already missing the connection. She was ready for him to be insider her. When he asked the question concerned washed over her face. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

How could she not see the need in his eyes? Of course he had never asked permission before entering someone's body before, and he wasn't sure how to do it, and see he exhaled with need, "Only that I amna inside ye yet."

She was suddenly very relieved. A smile came over her face when she realized he was asking for her permission. A chuckle escaped her as she blushed. She was truly out of practice. “We should fix that then, shouldn’t we?”

As she agreed so teasingly, Evander growled. The way he felt was no laughing matter, and he would show her as much. Without hesitation, he gripped the back of her neck, roughly pulling her lips to his, and simultaneously buried himself inside her to the hilt, gasping against her lips as he did. He felt a wave of pleasure roll over him like he had never experienced as he exclaimed, "Christ, Erika!"

She moaned against his lips when he pulled her close. Erika cried out as he pushed himself inside her. It felt so good that even the discomfort that came from him being bigger than anything she had inside her before. Her hands tangled in his hair as she kept him close to her. "I'm yours, Evander. Don't hold back."

Her fingers twisting in his hair only heightened the sensations, and with her permission he gave into himself. He was not gentle with her as his hips began to slam into hers with a fervor he'd never known. She was tight and slick and hot. Everywhere their skin pressed together it felt like fire. His lips claimed her again, his own fingers hastily ripping the hair tie out of her hair so he could thread his own fingers through the locks.

With every thrust, she let out a growl or moan. It felt so good. She wanted to encourage him more. His name left her lips again as she wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him closer. Feeling him reach for her hair tie. She lifted her head to help, and once her hair was free, she broke the kiss and tossed her hair to let it flow freely. After that, she gripped his hair tighter and pulled him in for a kiss.

Every sound she made was music, and when his name left her lips again, felt felt a wave of pleasure so strong he almost climaxed. He had always gotten a high from hearing his name on lovers' lips, but like everything else with her, this was so much more. He needed to hear her say it, again, and again, and again. When she pulled him back to her, it was everything. He could feel nothing but her enveloping him and the racing of his own heart as it mirrored hers. He was growing so close to that point, but he didn't want it to end. "Erika, I..." he gasped and moaned as she moved her hips just right. But he couldn't let himself go without taking her with him and so he pleaded, "Erika, what do you need."

She heard him calling her name, and somehow it brought her more pleasure. It had never happened before, but she realized it eased her worries. He was present. He was only thinking of her. Then he asked what she needed. She thought for the moment about what would build this for her. What she was craving right now would be hard to do in this position. Without saying a word, she used her legs to roll him over so that now she was on top of him. Her hands pulled his head to her breast so that he was sitting upright underneath her. She was encouraging him to use his mouth there. She moved her hips to test how he felt in this position. "Is this still good for you?"

Evander gasped as she rolled them yet again, and when she pulled him up to meet her, he wrapped one arm around her waist possessively. This potion brought her down even deeper on his shaft and he growled, "Good doesn't even describe it," before he took her breast hungrily in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the nipple as he reached up to squeeze the tender flesh of her other breath between his fingers.

That was her permission to keep going. She kept her grip in his hair as she moved her hips over him. Her motions allowed his cock to hit one spot in her that made a jolt of pleasure pulse through her body. "Evander..." she moaned. "Don't stop...please..."

He knew when she had found what she wanted because he felt her convulse around him as she moaned his name again. He drove her hips up again to meet hers, trying to capture that same angle. He took her pleas to heart and doubled his efforts on her breasts, switching over to the other with his mouth as he twisted her nipple with the other hand. He was riding a delicate edge, having to hold every part of himself back as he waited for her, and he scraped his nails desperately down her back as he gasped, "Erika... please... I need..."

She let out a cry as he scratched her back. His words made sense with this gesture. He was as close to coming undone as she was. He was seeking permission. Just as she was about to give it to him, her own climax took over. She screamed out his name as her body shuddered and the walls of her core squeezed against him. Her hands tightened in his hair as she tried to use him to steady herself.

Just when he didn't think he could hold out any longer, he felt her climax as his name burst forth from her like a prayer, washing over him and dragging him over the edge. He cried out, pulling her down hard so that he was buried as deep in her as he could be as he emptied himself into her. His climax rolled through him in waves, subsiding so slowly it left him dazed as he buried his head in her neck and held her like a python with its prey. In that moment, he would have given anything to never be separated from her. As his breaths slowed and his pulse settled, he began to run his hands up and down her back, placing the lightest kisses on her collar bone as he closed his eyes and held on to the scent of their shared arousal in the air.

She felt her body continue to ride out her orgasm when she felt him unloaded inside her. Her heart was pounding as she completely collapsed into his arms. Her breath was ragged. Just when she was started to relax is when he started to stroke her back. Her body post-orgasm was sensitive to the touch. His fingertips caused her body to shudder a little in his arms. She tried to control it to not worry him. "Evander...that was...paradise."

He felt her shudder in his arms and held her tighter. He knew some women were sensitive after sex, but the way she responded to his touch was unprecedented. He could already feel himself becoming addicted to it, craving her every reaction. When she spoke, Evander scoffed lightly, replying breathlessly, "I've been t' paradise, and it doesna compare." He pulled back from her just enough to see her face, cupping it in his hand, "That was ecstasy like I have never know, Erika."

Her body was craving his touch as it shuddered. She chuckled and moved to rest her forehead on this. "I have never felt anything like that before. Only ecstasy could be the only way to describe it."

Evander closed his eyes as she laid her forehead against him, soaking in the warmth of their bodies, do much hotter than the fire in the hearth. He continued to stroke her back, but he laid down, pulling her on top of his chest as he said sweetly, "How about perfect?"

She was still shuddering at his touch, but she enjoyed when they moved so she could lay on his chest. "This is absolutely perfect," she replied. She put her hands on his fest and rested her head on them so she could look at him more directly. Her blonde curls fell on the sides of her face.

Erika's hair tickled Evander’s chest as she settled onto it, and he slid the strands back behind her ear gently, smiling at her blissfully. "I've never seen you with your hair down," he said absently, staring in wonder at the image before him.

Her eyes went upward for a moment as she tested the validity of that statement. "I would love to keep my hair down more often, but for my duties it is best to keep it out of my face." She looked at him curiously. "I am not sure if you would prefer you do or not..." she chuckled.

Evander smiled at her softly, "You look beautiful like this," he told her, pushing the hair back from the other side of her face, "But I do like being able to see you. Perhaps one of these days I can have one of the Palace stylists arrange your hair for you. What a sight you would be," he imagined, for a moment, her blonde curls arranged half up, half down, and her in a proper gown. The image made him second guess himself though, "I hope you donna take that to mean I donna find ye beautiful as you are."

"Thank you," she replied. Her eyes closed as she enjoyed his soft caresses. Her eyes opened when suggested a castle stylist. "I know what you meant. That is very kind of you, but you don't need to go such trouble for me." She would enjoy avoiding headaches she would get from having her long hair pulled back all the time, but she didn't want him to make such a spectacle on her account.

She gave the answer he had expected, but still he said, "It would be no trouble." Before placing a soft kiss on her lips. When he said what came to mind next, he couldn't meet her eyes, "Perhaps one day, if we are wed..."

She smiled into the kiss. Her face lit up with her words when he saw that he wasn't looking at her. The joyful expression on her face dropped as well. She usually would be good at responding with the right thing to stay, but at that moment, she didn't know what to do. Without saying a word, she moved her hand to his hair to stroke it gently. "Does anyone in your family have red curls like this?" This was her attempt to change the subject.

Evander brought his eyes back up to hers, nuzzling into her fingers against his scalp and chuckled, "My mother and my sister. My father and brother both have hair as black as ink. Though the curls are still the same."

"I love them, especially when you just let them lie loose like they are now." She was happy that she was able to change it so quickly, even if she was still battling a nervous stomach after his statement.

He laughed, "It is rare that I will hassle to hold it back. But I enjoy caring for my hair," it was one of his little vices. Some had accused him of being a pretty biy before and he did not mind. He took pride in his appearance. He started rubbing her back again, enjoying the feeling of their chest rising and falling together for a moment, until something sparked in his mind and he felt a moment of panic. Without warning he sat up again, holding Erika against him as he did, the panic clear behind his eyes, "Erika, I've made a mistake with you," he spat out, then quickly tried to recover, realizing how bad it sounded. "Not being with you," he swore, trying to find the right way to say this, "But I... did not take the precautions I should have."

She smiled and continued to play with his hair as he rubbed her back. The sensitivity stage was starting to wear off. When he shot up, she grew concerned and wondered what was happening. Her eyes widened with fear when he said he had made a mistake. Had her worst fears been realized? The panic moved to confusion. Did he need to take something back? Was there something they had missed? "I don't understand what you mean."

It was not a topic he was comfortable talking about, and never one he'd had to. He had never taken a women with such inhibition before. He stroked her hair and gave her a soft but concerned look as he said awkwardly, "To prevent you from getting pregnant..."

"Ah..." she replied. That was an issue they had been too focused on to fix this problem, especially when she had asked to prevent that from others. "I suppose we got too caught up in the moment. There is nothing that can be done about it now. All we can do is hope that it does not happen." She remembered him telling her once that he did not want children, and after raising two girls, she didn't necessarily feel the need to have her own.

He was surprised by her lack of concern, knowing that she wished to keep their arrangement private. That would be hard to do if she turned up with a bairn, but he supposed they could handle that if it happened. The sheer thought of it made Evander's stomach turn. Still though, he knew from experience that what she said was untrue. Though it was a method he'd typically used before intercourse, he'd been told it would work after just the same. He looked at her with gentle eyes, not wanting to make her feel ashamed when he said, "There is something to be done, if you'll let me."

Erika wasn't sure if just happening the one time would do much. After seeing everything that happened with Svala and Erik, some people just have a hard time getting pregnant. Her eyes widened. "There is?" She looked at him curiously. She had no idea there were any proven way to prevent it. "What could be done?"

Evander looked at her awkwardly, trying to think of how to explain it. He'd had to do so for many girls before, but it felt strangely averse to the intimacy between them, and so he said softly, "'Twill be easier if I show ye," with that, he kissed her softly as he rolled her off of him and onto the carpet. He kissed her again on the forehead as he stood. The stone floor was cold on his feet, reminding him that the little bubble they'd lived in was only a part of their world. He walked over to his liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, then ventured over to his copper tub and picked up his sponge, tearing off a chunk before he returned to her, sitting on the rug across from her. He looked from the items to her and then said, awkwardly, "Ye... soak the sponge with the liquor and then ye," Evander awkwardly mimed shoving it up there. "It is meant to kill whatever it is that makes babies happen." It was trick that had been taught to him by a whore long ago, but it was usually the easiest to employ when a condom was not at hand.

She watched him carefully to try to understand what was happening. Liquor? A sponge? She tried to follow, but luckily he explained as much as he could for her to understand. "I see." She wasn't sure if he was expecting her to do it or if he was going to help, but for a matter such as this, she didn't want to ask for help for such a thing. It may look at her different after trying to help. She extended her hands to take the liquor and the sponge from him. "I might as well do it now." She was trying to help alleviate the awkwardness between them.

In the past, Evander had done this for his partners, but it was typically a part of foreplay, and not after his own seed was already inside of them. He tried hard not to grimace at the thought of that and handed over the items. He did not want to make this awkward, but he didn't know how to make it more intimate either, so instead he simply offered, "I could... step out. Or turn around, if he want."

She had completely exposed herself to him over the last few days, but she knew if she wanted to fight for him, she should have him avoid certain images. "If you are more comfortable, you can step out. Or you can just turn around. I will leave that up to you." She started to soak up the sponge so that she would be ready.

Evander nodded awkwardly, and turned away. He did not want to leave this room, for fear he would return to find it was all just a dream. He simply wanted to be past this so he could be lost in her again.

She took a deep breath and nodded. Her hand placed the bottle down as she spread her legs to give herself the most access. With that, she placed the sponge up as far as she could. When the liquor touched her walls, she groaned and hissed. The alcohol was working. Her fingers tried to help turn it as much as possible to make sure it did it's job. She pulled it out with a sigh of relief. "I will go wash this." Erika blushed and walked over to his copper tub to wash the sponge properly as much as she could. The effects of the alcohol was still burning, but she didn't let that show on her face.

Evander watched her pass him by to the tub, finally seeing her fully naked body clearly. She was lean and athletic and he wanted to run his hands over every inch of her, discover and memorize each scar. As he watched her lean over the tub, he thought how nice it would be to soak in the hot water with her, and remembered that she had mentioned once that she bathed at night, opposite of him. He rose slowly and sauntered over to her, running his fingers up her side from the curve of her ass to the cusp of her shoulder as he came to stand behind her. "Would you like to bathe?" He asked her, "I can have the servants draw some water."

She let out a sigh of relief when he touched her sensually after what had just happened. It comforted to her that his view of her had not changed. She looked over at him for a moment. "Are we referring to us bathing together? Or simply offering for me to take my nightly bath?" She knew she had mentioned to him before how she liked to bathe in the evening. It was unclear what he was referring to in that moment.

Evander smiled at her, urging her gently to turn to face him as he rested his hands on her bare hips, "I was hoping we could do it together," he said, leaning in slowly to give her a kiss that lingered. Every time their lips touched, he found it harder to pull back.

She dropped the sponge and turned to face him. "In that case, I would love a bath," she replied as she wrapped her hands around his neck. The kiss lingered for a moment before breaking it to look at him. "If you are going to have servants in here, I will need to hide. They can know you are here with a woman. Just not me."

Evander hadn't considered that. Already he could imagine her as a fixture here, and he had not thought the servants would think anything of her presence, but she was right. They would take notice. So Evander nodded, and walked over to his wardrobe. He threw the doors open with a creak before pulling out a thick fur cloak, which he brought to her. "I know it isna ideal, but ye can stand on the balcony and I can join ye in a minute once they've come."

There's much about this situation that isn't ideal. She kept that thought to herself as she grabbed the coat and put it on her shoulders. Once it concealed her naked form, she grabbed her discarded clothes and held them under the cloak. "I will see you in a few moments," she replied as she went out onto the balcony and closed the doors to the room. Even with the thick fur coat, she could feel the cold air brush under the cloak. Her body shivered, but she knew she had to last until the servants finished what they were doing and left. She would not freeze to death in that time.

Evander adorned his dressing gown and opened the door to summon his footman. He bid hot water be brought to fill his tub, and the boy set of quickly to comply. Evander waited a few minutes longer for then to arrive and let them in before he escaped onto the balcony with his lover. He had hated the minutes apart, and was eager to have her in his arms again. As he stepped out, he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, looking out and the rolling fields of Scotland in the low light of the moon."

She had survived cold weather before. Her time in the army had her spending many nights trying to sleep in weather colder than this. None of those nights was she stark naked underneath her cloak. When he wasn't there, she let herself shiver freely as she wrapped the cloak tighter and tighter. Suddenly, she felt his arms wrap around her. She smiled and leaned into embrace. Her body shuddered at the warm body surrounding her. "Scotland is beautiful."

He smiled at her admiration if his homeland. If nothing else, it could be say he held an unwavering fondness for this land. Scotland had seen many hardships over the generations, and if Evander believed anything, it was that this beautiful land deserved to be free. That was part of why he had spent so many years fighting the English at sea. It was as much for his country as for his best friend, and now the two were one and the same. "I'm glad he think so. I'm quite fond of it."

She looked around and saw the different aspects of the land. The beautiful mountains and the large fields of grass seemed never-ending. "Perhaps I can convince Kara to go horseback riding with me tomorrow and I can go explore it by myself." She leaned her head against his own as they stood there.

At the image Erika painted for him, he considered briefly disregarding all his duties for the day to join them. It had been far too long since he had ridden the Scottish countryside just for fun. He sighed, resigning himself to the impossibility and instead offered, "I could arrange a guide for ye. There are some secret spots I'm sure Kara would shriek with excitement to see." He thought of the hunting cottage in the woods where he had taken Katherine on their first date. It was a beautiful place, and suddenly, Evander was happy he wouldn't be joining them. He did not want to compare the two women in the same place.

Her smile beamed at that moment. He did not care for children, and yet he was willing to take the time to arrange something because he knew it would make Kara happy. He knew it was important to Erika, so he made and effort. "That would be wonderful. Thank you." The servant called out to for Evander to let him know his bath was ready and asked if he needed anyone else. They did not disturb him outside. They must have heard he was talking to someone.

Evander smiled and filed the task away on his list of things to do in the morning. He looked over his shoulder when the servant called, before turning back to Erika and kissing her on the cheek. "One more moment, my commander," he whispered in her ear, for the first time, like an endearment, before letting himself back inside. He tipped the servants generously and instructed them to have food delivered quietly in the morning and a note slid under the door to let them know when it arrived, in case Erika awoke before he did. Once the room was cleared and the door locked once more, he returned to the balcony doors and swung them wide open to reveal her there. He smiled broadly and reached a hand out for her, "Come," he said firmly but playfully.

My commader. This term now had a positive tone rather than a reminder of his defeat. She giggled shyly as she exhaled what looked like a puff of smoke from the cold. After a few minutes, she turned and saw him there by the door. "Of course," she smiled and took his hand as they went inside. She tossed her clothes back on the floor as she followed him towards the tub. Her free hand went to undo the clasp before letting the cloak drop to the floor. "Would you like me to hang that back up for you?" she asked half flirtatious but half serious.

Evander wandered over to test the water with his fingertips while she undressed again, and when he looked up to see her naked holding his cloak, he smirked sinfully. He sauntered over to her and grabbed the cloak out of her hands, throwing it aside with all the other clothes. "I can think of much better things for you to do," he said darkly, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her into a deep kiss.

She smirked as he pulled her into a deep kiss. Her arms went around his neck once again as her tongue moved to explore his mouth. She moved towards the tub as the steam rising the water helped warm her body that was still cold from the balcony.

Evander forced himself to pull away from the kiss before they both tripped over the edge of the bathtub and fell in. He stepped to the side of it and held out his hand to help her climb in to the warm water with a simple, "After you."

She smiled and bowed. "Thank you," she replied before slipping into the tub. "Now, do you want to face me or be behind me?" She knew both options were possible.

Evander considered it for a moment and then decided to sit behind her, sinking into the water. It sloshed over the edge as he did, and he realized that he hadn't thought to warn the servants that the bath was for two. He did not care. The warmth enveloped him and the sensation of her skin against his under water was heavenly.

She moved forward so that he could sit behind her. She leaned up against him so that she could be beside him. The warmth of the body and warmth of the water soothed her greatly.

Evander traced his fingertips along her skin under the water. It felt like silk to the touch and he loved it. He picksd up the sponge with the missing piece and soaked it in the water before he began gently rinsing her shoulders with it. Out of absent curiosity he asked, "Has anyone ever done this for you before?"

Erika hummed in pleasure as he started to bathe her there. "I haven't...I could get used to it," she chuckled. "Any men I have been with before now...they didn't make this much of an effort for me."

Evander took pride in knowing this was something only he had done for her. "I could get used to it too," he told her, placing a kiss on the sweet spot where her neck met her shoulder as he reached around to wash her breasts, "I can't imagine giving you any less," he whispered in her ear. It was a line he'd used before, but like so many of them, he found himself meaning it for the first time with her.

She moaned as he hit her favorite spot on her neck while washing her breasts. Her own hands traced along his thighs in the water, trying to make him feel good without disrupting his process. "You might have to be careful. I might become too spoiled with all of this attention."March 17, 2020

Evander chuckled, wrapping his forearm around his midsection and pessing her to his chest as he rested his chin on her shoulder, "From what I know of you, you are due for some spoiling and I could never imagine you becoming spoilt," he placed a soft trail of hisses down the side of her face until he came to whisper in her ear, "But I will.make it my mission to try."

She hummed in pleasure once again as he started kissing her again. This was more than she expected with him, but she quite enjoyed it. “So why do you choose to bathe in the morning rather than at night? I like going to bed knowing I don’t carry the dirt and things from the day with me.”

Evander pulled back and considered for a moment. "I suppose when I am at sea, I agree. But I don't make much of a habit of getting dirty at court," he said jokingly. But then he sobered slightly, "It is largely vanity. I enjoy taking the time to make myself... appealing in the mornings. But it started largely because the battle terrors would cause me to sweat in the night." He explained, his voice getting softer as he spoke and ran the sponge slowly up the length of her arm.

A small smile came across her face. “I am glad you told me about this. It reminds me I’m not alone. I thought fifteen years away from battle would help them worsen, but I think the loneliness of nights has kept them strong. Except when I am with you.” She leaned her head against his.

Evander closed his eyes and leaned against Erika as well. Last night had been more restful than any he'd had in a long time. He was looking forward to having that again, and he whispered softly, caressing small circles on the skin of her thigh with his fingertips, "You do intend to stay again tonight, don't you? I am looking forward to more blissful dreams of you." He would understand if she said no. She had responsibilities in the morning that she had already unintentionally put off today.

She had to think about that for a moment. It is true that she had work to be doing, but she wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. After all, their time together was short when they went back to Norway soon. "I would love to stay. I simply need a way to be woken up early enough to enjoy the morning with you while still having time to check with the girls before breakfast."

Evander nodded and placed a kiss on her shoulder. "When we get out, I will put in a request with my footman to knock and wake us at whatever time you wish." He flattened his palm against her thigh, gripping the flesh and enjoying the way it felt under the water. He nuzzled the curve of her neck with the tip of his nose and purred, "Every sensation of your body fascinates me."

"With that then, I will gladly stay," she replied before turning her head to kiss his cheek. Another small moan fell from her lips as he explored her body. "Your touch has awakened many sensations in me."

Evander's hand reached her knee and he brought it back up to her hip, scraping his fingernails along her supple skin. When he reached the crease of her thigh, her pressed his other palm posessively to her chest below her clavical, holding her against him, and whispered darkly in her ear, "I want to awaken so many more," he didn't know why the knowledge that he would not have to let her leave tonight mixed with the feeling of her bare flesh in the warm water had awoken something so primal in him, but he suddenly wished to flood her with pleasure again. To hear her scream his name and truly tire her out before they had to go to bed. He wanted to wrap his hand around her throat and feel her pulse in his palm, but he remembered how she had reacted to him grabbing her wrist earlier and refrained as he bit her earlobe.

Erika closed her eyes and let herself give into all his touches. She chuckled at his comment about awakening more. Her body followed his guidance as he moved her knees up further. As he moved to bite her earlobe, her opposite arm raised up to grab his hand once more. She wanted to touch him as well, but her current position only gave her a few options.

Evander felt her respond to his actions and growled, only fueling his want for her again. But this time it wasn't his own pleasure that he wanted from her, so as she reached for him, he grabbed her hand and forced it back onto the side of the tub as he allowed his hand to slide up around the base of her throat as he hissed, "No, this one is only about you." His other hand slid back between her thighs as he found the tender spit there with his fingertips and the sweet spot on her neck with his mouth.

She was concerned how he grabbed her hand, not sure why he was stopping her. His hand went to her throat and her body froze. She wasn't sure why his hand would rest there. Then, he began to give her pleasure. She let out a soft moan as she leaned her head back.

Evander's breaths grew shaky with the satisfaction of her responses to his touch. His pulse was racing and he wanted to own her. To know she craved his touch desperately. She had been right about one thing, even if he hadn't known it at the time. He wanted to conquer her. To plant himself inside her until he absorbed her every thought. And it was that hunger for her that could be felt in his touch as his hand flexed, though gently, around her throat and two fingers slipped inside her.

The hand around her throat did make her nervous, but he was being so gentle that she was able to calm herself. It might be how  he is choosing to keep her down to keep pleasuring her. She let out a cry when he slipped both fingers inside her. "Evander..." she panted.

Hearing his name, like always, had him revving. He was not tender with her as he had been the first time. The thrusts of his hand were rough and the heel of his palm ground into her clit as his kisses turned to nips on her neck and he growled, "I want to possess your pleasure, Erika. I want to make it mine."

Her moans turned into groans as he was rough against her. It was starting to become a little painful, but she tried to focus on the pleasure of it all. She moved her own hand down to his thigh and dug her nails into him hard.

Evander felt her wince and tried to contain himself a bit, but at the same time he released her throat and used that hand to angle her hips differently, giving him easier access to her. He made his strokes deeper, massaging that spot inside her that made her gush into the bath water. He hissed as she dug her nails into his thigh and reached up to pinch her nipple in retaliation even as he suckled the sweet spot at the base of her neck.

As he adjusted, she could feel herself become more comfortable, and she was amazed he knew so much to adjust without saying anything. Once the did, the pleasure built quickly as his palm rubbed her clit while he was stroking that special spot inside her. With him sucking the sweet spot on her neck. She felt her getting even closer now. "Yes...Yes...Evander..."

Success rolled sweetly through him at her encouraging words. He was growing hard against her back, but he didn't care. He was high off the energy of her pleasure and he wanted to give it to her freely. He slipped a third finger inside her and hooked them against that sweet spot inside her as he breathed in her ear, "Yes, Erika, let go..."

She could feel him pressed hard against her, but just as he processed it, she felt the third finger get pushed inside. A loud cry filled the room as  his command sent her over the top. Her orgasm shook her as she collapsed into him. The water of her bed did splash and probably spilled onto the floor. After shuddering for what seemed like an hour, fell into him breathless.

He held her as she convulsed, his own breath coming in hard pants. He felt as if he could feel her climax translated to him through the water, binding them together even as it slouched overboard onto the floor. He didn't care. It would get cleaned at some point. Evander slid his fingers out of her slowly, wrapping both arms around her waist and placing delicate kisses along her shoulder as he waited for her to come down."

She let out one last moan as she came down from her high. Her chest moved up and down quickly as she tried to catch her breath. "Should I...turn around...and give you the same pleasure?" she asked between panting breaths.

Evander's chest heaved and his groin ached and he wanted to tell her no that he had meant this just to be about her, but feeling her climax against him had aroused him more than he'd expected. He clenched his eyes shut and tried to give the noble answer, panting out, "If it pleases you."

She couldn't tell from him closing his eyes if she should. He was aroused, as his cock had told her, but he seemed like he didn't want her to do so. "I-If you don't want me to, I won't."

Evander opened his eyes to her, burning with lust, "Oh believe me, lass, I want ye to," he let out a shaky breath, "But I had meant to make this about you until ye bewitched me."

She smiled with relief as she pulled herself over to him. "I can't use my mouth for you, but it looks that you are ready to come undone yourself, Chancellor."

His breath grew shakier as she neared him again, and something about hearing his title on her lips only exhilarated him more. He looked into her eyes with a dark abandon and gasped, "And you are most certainly my undoing."

Her hand trailed up his leg before grabbing onto his shaft. She used her thumb to circle the tip for a few moments to test what he reacted to in the water.

Evander let out a broken gasp. Somehow everything was more sensative in the water and he found himself sinking in lower, having to tense his arms on the side of the tub to keep from slipping under. His eyes rolled back into his head and he allowed it to fall back against the side of the tub as he moaned her name.

She smiled as she watched him writhe under her. The amount of pleasure he took from her gave her the confidence she needed. Her thumb left his tip as her hand started to move quickly up and down the shaft.

Evander's breath left him in a huff as she began to stroke him brazenly. Pleasure rolled through him in waves and colors danced behind his eyes, "Erika!" He exclaimed, and before he knew what he was doing, he grabbed her face and pulled her close, "Take me, Erika, please." She had already soaked herself and they were in the water. It wouldn't matter now.

She gasped when he grabbed her face, but she smirked when he begged her to take him. Her hand held his shaft up as she sunk herself onto him. She put her hands in her hair as she moved her hips against him.

Evander's eyes slipped closed again as he felt her envelope him. For all the women he'd slept with, it had never been like this, this need, this bliss. Her fingers twined in his hair again and his hands went to her hips digging his fingers in deep to her flesh. He resisted slightly against her hold on his hair and whispered like a plea, "Pull," It was a sensation that was rough and primal and he'd always loved it, though he'd rarely been with women whom could command him enough to do it. But in that moment he wanted her to command him, to be his commander.

His plea helped her see more of the animalistic side that he had. She moaned as she moved her hips more against him. Her hands gripped tightly into his hair as she pulled it hard. With that, she kissed him deeply and let her tongue plunge into her mouth. As she broke the kiss, her teeth nipped on his bottom lip. "You are mine, Evander," she growled. She didn't know what came over her, and she realized that somehow this possessive mode had now infected her as well.

Evander moaned as she pulled his hair roughly. The mixture of the pain with the searing pleasure she brought forth in him was heaven, and as her mouth crashed down on his own he kissed her back like a starving man. Evander hissed when her teeth scraped off of his lip, leaning forward as he tried to take her lips back. But then he heard her primal words and they sent a different kind of pleasure through him. "Yes, Erika..."  he gasped desperately. He leaned forward and bit her breast hard bearing down as he tried to contain the sensations soaring through him and make this last ever longer.

She let out a cry and growl as he bit down oh her breast. Her hand tugged his hair to pull his back. "Be careful where you bite..." she said with a teasing smirk on her face. "Or I may leave you fill of pleasure, aroused, and not give you the satisfaction of a release." Her eyes locked with his as she rocked her hips against his. She angled her hips against that spot inside her so her inner walls would squeeze against his cock.

Evander scoffed at her threat, but he loved it. The way she took command of him. He wanted her to control his pleasure and when her hips tipped just so, his eyes rolled back into his head. He squeezed her ribs tightly and gasped, "Please, commander..."

At her scoff, she tugged at his hair again. She heard him use the name again and she smiled. "Good, but you need to be more specific when you beg...what do you want?" She pulled on his hair again.

She tugged on his hair again and the pain was oh so sweet missed with the teasing tone of her words. "Grant me release," he begged, desperate.

She didn't realize how good it felt to have this control over him. This power was something she had never felt before, but she enjoyed it immensely. Her hand pulled his head right up to hers where she was looking him in the eye but their lips could not touch. "Let go, Evander..." she growled. "Have your release and cry so that the gods may hear you."

"Erika!"He gasped and cried at once and it was like a prayer as he lost himself inside her harder and longer than he ever had before. He felt dizzy and delighted and he squeezed his arms around her ribs as tightly as he could. Evander needed her like he need life in that moment. As he came down, he laid his head against her chest and breathed heavily, feeling as if he were floating on a cloud.

She held one arm onto the side of the tub and the other in his hair as he rode out his orgasm. When he wrapped his arms around her, it was slightly too tight, but she waited for it to subside, knowing it was just his body reacting to the pleasure. She panted herself as she kissed the top of is head tenderly. "And to think," she panted again. "You were going to let that pass you by."

He chuckled against her chest breathlessly. He nuzzled into her, suddenly feeling quite exhausted and beginning to realize that they had sloshed out nearly half the water and what was left was cooling. As he came down, the water on his skin sent a shiver down his spine and he held her tighter. "What a fool I'd have been..." he muttered.

Erika smiled softly as assessed the situation. “We have made quite the mess...” she replied. “We should probably finish bathing and clean some of this up.” Her hand stroked his face as she kissed him briefly.March 18, 2020

Evander's lips lingered on hers and he leaned into her palm on his face. When was the last time he had felt so boyish? It was odd how the feeling came over him and he mumbled, "Do we have to?" Typically he would have called the servants in to clean it and been done with it, and without that option, he was happy enough to just leave it.

She chuckled and kissed his forehead again. "Well, now that the water is not as warm, I am getting cold." Erika stroked her face gently. "I just don't want to leave your chambers a mess. But if you don't mind, we could retire to bed."

Evander sighed, pulling back to look at her, "The servants will manage it in the morning," he said softly. It was only water after all. He loosened his hold on her and ran his hands gently down her arms, leaning in to kiss her once more, "Let's get dried off."

She smiled and nodded. As she got herself out of the tub, she moved to look grab the towels that were sitting near the tub. She grabbed one for herself before handing another one to him with a smile.

Evander rose out of the water slowly, still feeling out of body, but accepted the towel gratefully. He stepped out of the tub, leaning heavily on the side to balance himself, then dried off. Satisfied enough, he threw the towel over the edge of the tub and turned back to Erika, stepping up to her and placing his hand on her upper arms. "You are more than I ever could have dreamed for." He told her sweetly.

Erika made her moves to dry every part of her body. She was finishing drying her forearms when Evander came behind her. "So are you," she replied before turning to him. Goosebumps from the cold night air came over her body.

He could feel the texture rise on her skin as she turned around and rubbed her arms trying to warm them. "Let's get you to bed," he said, grabbing her hand and lead her ng her over to the mattress. He threw back the blankets and gestured for her to climb in before him."

She followed him to the bed and slipped into the bed without a second thought. Once on the bed, she rolled onto her back, so he could have the image of her full naked form in his bed.

Evander looked at her splayed across his sheets and smirked. He could see the shadow of one on her lips too and knew she knew exactly what she was doing. He crawled onto the bed and looked over her with lust filled eyes and a teasing glint, "Haven't ye had enough for one night?"

She looked at him with an innocent smile. "I am just lying here in bed waiting for you." She really didn't care if they didn't do anything else rather than sleep in each other's arms. "I simply knew you would like the view."

He shook his head, brushing her nose back and forth across hers in an eskimo kiss as he leaned over her, "Ye are a vixen pretending to be innocent. But I am not fooled," he said and gave her a slow kiss as he settled onto the mattress, laying on his side next to her. He pulled back and brushed her hair away from her face, "But in this moment, I canna imagine ever tiring of looking at ye, naked or no."

Erika let out a schoolgirl giggle as he gave her an eskimo kiss. "I don't know what you mean," she chuckled. "I hope you never get tired of for many other moments to come." Her hand traced along his upper arm gently.

Evander's eyes slipped closed momentarily as he allowed himself to just feel her touch. He grabbed her hip and pulled himself flush against her side, placing a kiss on the credt of her shoulder. He reached over her and pulled the covered over them as the chill in the air started to set in. He thought for a moment, then spoke slowly, "I liked feeling like you... owned me, controlled me. I've always preferred to be the one in control. But with you," he opened his eyes again to meet hers, his clear and honest for once, "it's different."

She enjoyed this moment of being under the covers in his bed. It was like the world outside these walls did not exist. Her eyes stayed with his for a moment before he spoke. "I always enjoyed when my partner was on top of me, but then something came over you...and I had these need to become the one in control. I like that feeling too."

Evander traced his fingertips in tiny swirls along her skin as he spoke softly, "Maybe... we are meant to balance each other." He mused, hoping this feeling would never fade. That every experience between them would be new and rich like this.

"Maybe we were..." she smiled and enjoyed the simple touches. Then she realized that in this position they might soon fall asleep. "Should we summon your servant? To make sure I wake up on time?"

Evander smirked at her and said, "I had already made arrangements, before it came up," remembering the meal he had requested for her as well, but he wanted to keep that as a surprise.

A soft and touched smile came over her face. He had taken such efforts to take care of her. "Thank you..." she replied with a kiss. "You really did want to make this wonderful for me."

Evander leaned in to the kiss, always wanting each one to be longer, but when she pulled back, he cupped her cheek and looked into her eyes honestly. "I needed to prove to you I was not the man you saw me to be last night. To both of us." The words she'd spat at him like venom of how he could never want her and never care still burned. He wasn't sure he'd convinced himself he wasn't that man yet, but she was starting to make him believe.

"I can't believe you made so much effort for me," she replied. Not only had no one ever made so much effort for her in this way, but he knew that they weren't going to be committed and  yet he still wanted her to feel special.

He leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, "You deserve it more than anyone I know." He kissed her softly, having to pull away when a yawn forced it's way past his lips. He really had never felt so drained by having sex before.

She smiled and returned the kiss gladly. The blonde chuckled when she heard him yawn. "I truly drained you, didn't I?" She yawned herself. "I think you have done the same for me."

Evander laughed through the yawn and replied teasingly, "If I didna know better, I would say ye were a succubus. Or maybe one of Svala's sirens." He pulled her roughly but playfully against him, "And you have certainly enticed me."

She pretended to look offended. "I am but a simple fair maiden, sir." She chuckled and kissed him once more. "Well, you are clearly one as well to entice me so."

Evander enjoyed this immensely, little quips between little kisses. For all the flirting and pillow talk he'd had in his life, he'd never experienced this. It made him feel playful and childlike, and he suddenly very much did not want to sleep. He kissed her again chastely, though longer this time, and whispered, "I don't want to give up my time with ye to sleep."

Her hands lightly touched his face as he kissed her. "Neither do I, but I know if we don't sleep, we are going to be useless to our monarchs in the morning."

Evander sighed and nuzzled into her hands, knowing she was right. He had managed on very little sleep before, but he doubted he could do so with his diplomatic duties. His days already felt so dull, he was certain he would drift off during one of his meetings. He nodded, "Then just let me hold you."

She smiled and placed her hands softly on his chest to move closer. "Well, you never have to ask for that. I will always welcome being in your arms." She moved herself as close as possible and put her forehead on his.

Evander wrapped his arms around her tightly and placed a soft kiss on her lips as she moved closer, followed by one on her forhead before nuzzling down into the pillow and whispering, "Good night, my commander..."

She followed his movements before placing her head under his chin. Once she was curled into his embrace, she responded. ""Goodnight, Evander." As she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

[thebrochtuarachs]

To Begin Again: Chapter 4

Jamie passes through the stones on Beltane to 1968.

A/N: I honestly had a hard time figuring out what kind of path I will lead Jamie and Bree to meet in this scenario. Hopefully, what I wrote is fine :) I'm excited to explore where these characters want to go after this! :) Hope you like the new chapter! As always, comments and suggestions are always welcome.

CH: 1 - 2 - 3 AO3

As his daughter walked closer to them, her stride reminded him of a memory from the day after he let them go.

Snow fell over the Culloden Moor in a dark and bloody evening and Jamie Fraser stirred awake. He was alive – barely, he thought. He looked around the battlefield and saw the hundreds of lives lost in this hopeless cause, he wept for the souls whose destiny lied in this war. He closed his eyes and willed death to come and take him too.

But it wouldn’t come. As hours went by and Jamie was well aware of his apparent, life. Still, he was weak and wounded and could not get up even if he tried to, and now, it was a waiting game of who will come first – death by the cold or someone rescuing him.  He looked around and saw no soul in sight, and then he saw a vision of his wife, Claire, walking towards him.

Could she have returned to him? Could she have come back and waited for the aftermath of the battle? Could she have, yet again, disobeyed my orders to return to safety for the sake of our child for me?

His heart swelled and hoped, but as soon as she was close enough to touch and he reached for her, she was gone. He can almost believe she was real but when Rupert’s face came into view, the dream was gone. He, then, felt so much pain, crushing pain - not from his wound, but from his broken heart and he wanted nothing else but to die in the knowledge that the sacrifice of the loves of his life was not in vain. He closed his eyes to surrender to death, again, but his clansmen wouldn’t give up on him that easily.

Next thing he knew, in a string of luck (good or bad, he still couldn’t decide), he was on a wagon back to Lallybroch, Jenny pouring scalding hot water on his wound and then his life in isolation in the cave began.

The pain from the memory resurfaced but his feelings quickly changed when he saw her. He decided that it was all in his goodluck to have lived and now, to be in this time. Red hair, blue eyes, with ruddy curls, he couldn’t deny that the beautiful lass is his – his and Claire’s – a product of their love, the idea striking Jamie to the core. Everything they did, everything they’d done, everything they’ve been through, it was all worth it. She was here, alive and safe, and Jamie would endure everything again for her.

“I felt the same way the first time I saw her” Claire whispered as she stood to get up, Jamie following after.

“She’s beautiful, Claire.” Jamie said in wonder. Tears were in danger of falling but he immediately wiped them away, not wanting his daughter’s first memory of him to be crying.

“She’s ours.” She replied as she slipped her arm around his waist and pulled his side close to her hip. Jamie, on the other hand, was completely transfixed by their child. As her words sank into him, Claire could feel him trembling with anticipation. He was nervous and suddenly, so was she. This was a moment she never thought would happen and no one can prepare any of them on how to approach this. But here they were and there was no stopping it.

Jamie put his arm around Claire and looked at her. “What did you name her?”

“Brianna. Brianna Ellen” Claire and Jamie turned to find Bree standing a couple of feet from them, directly facing both her parents waiting for someone to continue the conversation.

“Named after your father, just as I promised. I added your mother’s name because, well, just look at her, you said it yourself, she looks just like her.” Claire said to Jamie. “Besides, those names belong together, I thought I’d honor them both and you by naming our child as such”.

Brianna felt a momentary lapse hearing and being referred to as “our child”. The child they both prayed for, the child they both wanted, the child they loved enough to let each other go. Bree tried to mask her emotions by nodding to the brand new information offered. “I didn’t know that.” Bree said, deciding that she’d ask stories of them later.

Jamie, on the other hand, still stood transfixed and dumbstruck by the presence of his daughter.

Another silence fell and the only sound were from crickets and the wind. “Jamie?” Claire tugged at him.

“Hello?” Brianna waved a hand in front of Jamie’s face to bring him back from his reverie. Whatever nervousness Bree felt or should feel, was gone and was replaced with a feeling of charm, humor and tenderness by her father’s reaction to her.

“Ah, dhia!” Jamie softly sighed. He leaned to Claire, in both support and nervousness. “I’m sorry, a nighean”

“You’re James Fraser, aren’t you?” Bree awkwardly asked– maybe she was a little nervous after all.

“Aye” He awkwardly replied back.

“I’m – I’m your daughter. I’m sure you can tell.” Bree tried to sound casual with a tentative smile played on her lips.

“Aye. Aye, I can” Jamie shuffled his feet, unable to say anything else. “My god, you’re huge!” a blushed crept over him as the words came flying out, thank God it was dark and none of his lasses saw how red he went.

Both women laughed. “And whose fault is that, do you think?” Bree retorted.

“Och no, lass. I didna mean it that way. Tis only, I hadna thought of you as grown. I had ye in my mind somehow as a wee bairn always – as my babe. I never expected…” words faltered as he raised his hand to lightly trace her features in the air. “May I?” Jamie asked and Brianna nodded. He released his hold on Claire and boldly stepped closer to Bree.

“Brianna” Jamie said as he tucked a stray hair behind her ear. It was different the way he said it. Breeanah, that Scottish burr so pronounced. “Beautiful” he followed as he continued to trace her cheek and down to her jaw. Unexpectedly, Bree leaned into Jamie’s hand, feeling the warmth and heat in his skin, surprising herself that she couldn’t pull away from his touch if she tried - not yet,  as if her brain whispered itself to command.

A sniffle from Claire caused them to turn. Tears were freely flowing from her eyes and her face has the most brilliant smile they’d ever seen. “Don’t mind me” she said, noticing both of their stares. “I’m just…happy.” They looked at her earnestly as she wiped her face to no avail as more tears fell. “This – This is all I wanted” Claire gestured with her hands, pointing to them, pointing everywhere while she was in the highest of cloud nines.

Bree looked at Jamie and understood what they needed to do. Bree went to her mom and gave her the tightest of hugs. Jamie crept behind Claire and gathered both of his girls in an engulfing hug. Claire, on the other hand, just held on and let it all out.  – and in that moment, all was good and all was well.

-

Roger is driving back to the stones after making the anonymous tip of the crime to the police. He wonders what kind of story will be published on this “murder”, especially, when the killer, as a fact, will never be found. Would this be one of those unsolved murder mysteries you hear about in years to come with a lot of people having their own take of the story? It could be, considering the bizarreness of the situation but deep down, only 3 people will actually know the truth.

As a historian, this is the best research-slash-adventure he’s ever been and will ever have. Unexpected as his guests are, he strangely didn’t find their story too weird or unbelievable. Maybe growing up listening to Mrs. Graham’s stories as a lad did have its perks.

Traveling back in time to actually witness history take place is every historian’s dream and now he is in the presence of one that can actually tell the truth – not assumption – truth of what really happened then. He immediately thought of Frank Randall and how much he has missed in his research if only he believed his wife’s story. How much his work would’ve meant more if he had those juicy details, stories or evidences, you cannot find and no one knows except his “time-traveling” wife. What an opportunity he missed because of his pride, probably jealousy and heartbreak.

He’s yet to tell Claire that he’s actually, probably, found James Fraser to be alive. He and Bree have been spending sometime in the Reverend’s attic and found the research he’d supposedly sent to Frank Randall many years ago. It mentioned of a Fraser officer surviving execution from the English army after the battle. Five Fraser officers are recorded in the books, four names are memorialized on a plaque in a church in Beauly, the fifth name left out, Roger was pretty sure, is Jamie’s.

Roger can’t wait to tell Claire. He hopes that the news will, of course, make her happy and lessen the tension between her and Bree.

As he pulls the car to a stop and shuts down the engine, he begins the climb up the hill to look for his guests. The buzzing was still there but it was fainter now than when they arrived. The sun was rising but the color of the sky remained a magnificent shade of blue and violet that left the rest of the scenery a shadow still in the dark.

Arriving at the top, he saw Bree and Claire wrapped in the arms of a 6’3 giant of man. As far as Roger knows, there’s only one giant man allowed to hold them both like that and he is supposed to be in the 18thcentury.

Could he be? Could he have come through? What perfect timing! Roger thought.

Jamie saw him approach and quickly, he moved from Claire’s back to Bree's Front.

“Who are ye?” he calmly called but the undertone of protection was still apparent. Cause my family harm, I will not hesitate to dismember you.

Before Roger could speak, Claire intervened. “Jamie, this is Roger Wakefield. He’s the reverend’s son and we’ve been staying with him in his manse as his guests.” Roger extended a hand to Jamie and thankfully, he took it.

“Speaking of which, maybe we should all head back to house before the police shows up?” Bree suggested and off they walked down the hill.

Roger went down first, Brianna accompanying him. Claire laced Jamie’s hand on hers and asked “Ready?”

Jamie took a deep breath, looked at the tall stone and tried not to look back at what he’s leaving behind. He’s got Claire and his child now, everything he’ll figure out later.

“Aye, let’s go”

[scribsallaround]

The Church Interlude

Background: Angelica and John Church married straight out of college and had a daughter named Catherine. He dies of cancer 3 years later. Skip another 3 years, Angelica meets Lafayette and he becomes her first boyfriend since John died. Without further ado, I present the Church Interlude. He'd gone peacefully in his sleep in late May. His favorite time of year, and his favorite month. She showed him pictures of Catherine and sunsets and his favorite things, but he never saw them, of course. He was practically in a vegetative state by the time he finally passed. She screamed and cried and rocked her baby with silent tears, staring into her eyes that so resembled his. She wanted the child to know her father, but that wasn't an option. It wasn't long before the day rolled around again. This year would mark the 5 year anniversary and, per usual, she wasn't prepared. She gradually grew worse and worse in the week leading up and, that morning, curled into a ball and sobbed. And that's how Lafayette awoke to her shaking body on May 28. But he knew what was happening and simply wrapped his strong, comforting arms around her and let her sob into his chest. Once she wore herself out, she silently slipped out of bed, and he followed suit. He changed on his side of the room while she got in the shower, and gave her privacy, going to wait downstairs, browsing through the pictures of his love and John and Catherine. Usually, one of Angelica's sisters would come over and watch Catherine, who knew very little of the significance of the day, but Lafayette assumed he would take care of the little girl while her mother visited John. So he was understandably taken aback when Peggy Schuyler knocked on the door. “Hey Laf,” she greeted with a sad smile. “How's Angie holding up?” “She's…alright, but why are you here?” She snorted indignantly. “Umm, rude.” She strode past him into the house and plopped into the couch, leaving him to close the door behind her with a very confused expression on his face. “I'm here to watch my favorite niece.” “But I thought I was watching Catherine,” he told her, even more confused, if that was possible. “Well you thought wrong. She called me last night to make sure. I come every year.” “Are you sure you heard her right, because-” “She did,” came a soft, somber voice from the stairs. Angelica ascended, seeming way too old to be 27. Grief matured her in a way that made Lafayette squirm with discomfort. She didn't deserve all this hurt when she was still so young, with so much to live for. It just made him want to hold her in his arms forever, or at least until she looked like her normal happy, bubbly self. Immediately, he went to meet her at the bottom of the stairs, gentle kissing her cheek. She tried to smile, for him, and he saw the twitch of the corners of her mouth, but other than that, she just looked exhausted. “Hey sis,” Peggy murmured gently, squeezing her older sister tightly. “Am I watching Kit-Kat?” “Yes,” she answered softly and, before her boyfriend could get a word in, she turned and gently held his hands. “I was hoping…well, would you maybe…come with me?” Go with her? That was…unexpected, and Lafayette couldn't quite figure out how he felt about it. He was happy, jubilant even, that she would want to include him in one of the most tender memories of her past, but he didn't know if he was ready to meet John. His girlfriend’s late husband was always a matter that made him anxious, looming in the shadows like an expectation to live up to, a goal to reach, even if she had assured him months prior that she didn't expect anything but for him to be himself. Still, he knew that meeting John was a privelage, and that it was almost essential in order to continue dating - and sleeping with - his dark-skinned beauty. Her eyes widened with fear as he hesitated, and she snatched her hands from his quickly. “I’m sorry, I-I shouldn't have asked so much fr-” “Non non! I didn't mean…I don't…” he sighed, gathering his wits and gingerly bringing her hands to his lips. “Mon Ange, it would be the greatest pleasure to meet John. Of course I’d love to go with you.” A smile - a REAL smile - flushed her face, and she kissed his lips, gently but earnestly. “Thank you. He’d want to know I was happy.” She was happy. That meant the world to Lafayette. She said she was happy with him, and dear God, did it send him over the moon. “Alright, love birds, don't you want to be gone before Kit-Kat wakes up? I still need to make breakfast.” Peggy smirked, arms crossed and her hip popped out. Angelica almost chuckled, and Laf let out a huff and shook his head in amusement. The youngest Schuyler, and all the other Schuylers too, were like family to him at this point. “You're right. Take care of my baby girl, we'll be back in a bit,” Angelica told her sister, giving her a final peck on the cheek before interlacing her fingers with Laf's and leading the way outside. “Do we need to stop for anything?” he asked, twiddling his thumbs. He wasn't used to being the passenger, but Angelica insisted on driving, and he didn't have anything to do with his hands considering that taking out his phone would have been incredibly rude. “No, I have flowers and…a blanket in the back.” He tried not to show his surprise, but uttered a simple, ‘oh’. Then, after a moment, “How long do you want to stay? Should we pick up lunch?” “Er…sure.” It wasn't something she usually did, but it didn't seem like a bad idea. The blanket was because she usually just lost the strength and the resolve to remain upright, and she didn't feel like sitting on the grass for an hour, crying. A picnic definitely did sound like a better idea than her annual sob-fest, and so she turned at the next exit towards the store. She needed him, Lafayette, beside her. This year, there was no question about whether she should go or not. She had to, and he had to be at her side. Lafayette, on the other hand, felt intrusive. “You don't have to if you don't want - I just thought maybe you'd want something to eat if you got hungry. I want today to go as smoothly as possible for you.” “I know. I want food,” she agreed with a little note of finality in her voice. Sitting back in his seat, Lafayette turned to watch out the window, and they stayed that way until stopping at a rather empty grocery store to pick up some sandwiches, and they were on their way again. “Hey John,” Angelica sniffled quietly to the tombstone as she laid out the blanket and sat gingerly, legs tucked neatly under her. Lafayette lingered behind her, a bit hesitant and fearful of interruption. His hopes of remaining as nonchalant and invisible as possible were, however, dashed, as Angelica introduced him. “This is Lafayette.” She wanted to continue, to gush about all they'd done and how happy the Frenchman made her, but it felt like a betrayal somehow. She had to remind herself that John wanted her to move on, but even moving on felt horrible. ‘He wanted this for you,’ she repeated over and over again, almost like a mantra. “Hello, John,” Lafayette greeted, concealing any trace of uncertainty he had as he sat beside Angelica, a little clumsy while attempting to fold his long limbs into a comfortable position. Once situated, he continued. “Angelica’s told me a lot about you. All good things, of course.” Angelica couldn't help but smile at his effort to make small talk. It meant so much to her that he would accept the unexpected excursion so casually, easily adjusting to the situation. His flexibility was one of the things she admired about him. “Lafayette and I have…well we've been dating for a few months and I…I'm happy,” she murmured with a smile, taking Lafayette's hand and squeezing his hand tightly. In return, he raised her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to its back and letting it rest softly on the blanket. There wasn't really much to say after that. Well, there was one thing. A few things. Too many things. Things they didn't feel they should share, things they feared to voice in front of the other, things that just didn't coincide with the time or place. So they sat in silence, trapped in their thoughts although they both stared intently at the plain black marble headstone. Finally, Angelica stood, relinquishing his grip to go find a water spout for the flowers. While Lafayette cut open the packaging, freeing the bouquet and beginning to trim the awkwardly long stems, he heard the sound of gushing water and a squawk of surprise. He whipped around just in time to see his girlfriend struggling to spin the dial and cut off the flow of water. But her legs and shoes were already soaked. “Crap,” she whined glancing around until she caught Lafayette’s eye. “Are you okay, ma cherie?” he asked, brows furrowed in sympathy. “Yeah, I'm…alright, I guess,” she sighed, shaking the excess moisture from her hands. “I'm going to go clean up.” “Do you want me to go with you?” “No, I've got it. Sorry.” “You have nothing to be sorry for. I'll be here when you get back, mon coeur.” She smiled softly and picked her way through the grass, padding off down the sidewalk, leaving Lafayette alone on the blanket with John. “I worry about her a lot,” he admitted, much to his own surprise. “She has so much hurt from you and now…she doesn't know yet, but her father's sick. Philip is really sick, John, but he made me promise not to tell her when I went to visit him alone a few weeks ago. You see, I asked him a very important question, and now I have to ask you. I need your permission to ask Angelica's hand in marriage.” He was glad to finally get it off his chest, and he let out a breath he didn't know he’d been holding. “It's soon, I know, but I love her. I love her with all my heart and soul, for her torn trust and her aching past. I just want to help her, John. If I could take it all away to bear it myself, I wouldn't flinch, wouldn't hesitate. I just want to make her happy. And I…I don't want to sound cocky o-or rude, but I think…well, she says it all the time…that I make her happy. And I can't even put into words how happy that makes me. She and Catherine…they're my world, John.” He paused a few moments, waiting for God knows what. Lafayette surely didnt know why a pang of surprise hit him when nothing changed. Sure, he heard the wind in the trees and a few birds here and there, but that was all. Nothing out of the usual. He let out a sharp laugh, smiling sheepishly at the headstone before him. “What am I doing. Talking to a headstone…” he mused. “I'm back.” Angelica's voice startled him, and he tried to cover up the jolt he'd given when it pierced his thoughts. However, she giggled when she sat next to him, leaning into his shoulder and sighing contently. He wrapped an arm around her and rested his own head atop hers. “He was a good man,” she muttered, and at first Lafayette thought she was talking to herself. “He loved Catherine.” “He was a good father,” Lafayette chimed in quietly. Just by looking at pictures at the Schuyler-Church household, it was obvious how much John had adored his family. Shifting through the pictures in the attic had given him an even more in-depth look at what kind of person he had been, and what kind of person Angelica had been. Kind of a stereotype, in all honestly. There were pictures of him smashing ice-cream into her face, selfies from the NYC boardwalk. Roller coasters, beach trips, vacations, and more portrayed the younger couple in their highschool years. Engagement announcements, wedding shoots, pregnancy pics, and family photos with Catherine dominated the next few years and then…almost nothing. But Lafayette knew why. In the last few pictures, John’s hair was visibly thinning, Angelica looked like she'd aged 4 year in only a fourth of the time, and Catherine…well, she didnt change a bit except grow up. They always made him smile sadly. He couldn't say he'd never wished to have been there. Once in awhile a thought that made him shake his head in guilt permeated his mind;’What if I had been with her instead of John?’ He knew it was horrible, because it made him FEEL horrible. But the thoughts remained. Would she have been happier? Would they be married? Have a few kids? His stomach churned at the thought, though he couldn't tell if they were ecstatic butterflies or regretful worms. Either way, he didn't like it. It was a few minutes before she spoke again, and it was only after she let out a breathy laugh. Feeling his curious gaze on her, she said, “Did I ever tell you about the time John fell asleep while he was supposed to be watching Catherine and the only reason he woke up was because…” The look on his face made it obvious he wasn't familiar with the story, and she let out another laugh before restarting. “Catherine was probably 4 or 5 months old, and I think it was my first BUSY day back at work after maternity leave, and I was just exhausted, so I told him he'd better watch Catherine while I slept, because she'd just woken up from a nap and there was no way she was going to sleep and time soon. So last I saw, he was watching animal planet with Catherine in the living room while I go up to rest.” “Next thing I know, I hear a very worried John calling my name as he comes upstairs. He fell asleep, and she decided to snack on the pen in his pocket,” she laughed. “Had an eye for fine dining even at 4 months,” he crooned, and she only laughed harder, earning strange glances from other visitors as she covered her mouth with her hand and squeezed her eyes shut. It was by far one of the best ways to see her. She looked happy, and content. She looked like a teenager again. They ate their sandwiches and chatted idly. Angelica told him stories, and he told her about his family. It was nice, certainly peaceful, but still humorous. It was by far one of on the nicest experiences he’d ever had. It would change his life. By the time they finished lunch and started getting ready to leave, the mood had lightened considerably, and they had both adorned wide smiles while they packed up. “Can you take this to the car?” she asked, handing him the bag with all their things. “Of course, mon coeur. The blanket too?” “No, I've got it,” she smiled, squeezing his hand. “I'll be done by the time you bring the car around.” “Alright, I'll be back soon.” He turned and headed off to load up the car, leaving her alone once more. She watched him walk away with a grin before sighing and turning back to John. Sitting down, she couldn't wipe the smile off her face. “I love him, John.” The words spilled past her lips before she could stop herself and she didn't want to stop. “For years and years I wondered how you could ever expect me to move on from you, but I think…John, I really think he's the one. I haven't been this happy since before we found out you had cancer. I could never have asked for a better second chance. Catherine absolutely adores him. So does my family. My father is happy that he works for Washington, my sisters love his sense of humor, he's just…he's perfect. He's not you, but…” She shook her head, the crooked smile still presenting itself. “He's perfect.” “Are you ready?” Lafayette asked simply a few minutes later, watching Angelica fold up the blanket. “Yeah,” she responded with a nod. She felt more free, almost. like a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She draped the blanket over her arm and stood on her tip toes to give him a quick but earnest kiss, and his arm wrapped around her shoulders, her head resting on his chest as they turned and left. It was then that he realized something. The usual dreadful feeling of jealousy or guilt that usually came at any mention of John had left him. The entire time they had retold stories of their younger years, he hadn't felt it once. They had turned the haunting pain to joy, thinking of the good rather than the bad, and unintentionally showing each other that it was okay to remember their loved ones without necessarily feeling horrible. They both felt better, liberated. The sign Lafayette had waited for didn't come through a voice or some strange happening that could only have been power from beyond the grave. Instead, it came in a form that was far more crucial to their happiness. It came in their peace of mind. That was his sign.