#heid is a soft pair

[ragingbookdragon]

“I never knew the LT was good with bairns,” Soap says, watching, as he sits along the wall, their superior entertain a few local children.

She doesn’t bother to look up from knife she’s been sharpening for the past few minutes. “Simon’s always been good with kids.”

“How do you ken?” he asks, shifting his gaze to her; her eyes shine in the glow of the setting sun in the rundown gas station they’ve been waiting for exfil at.

“He had a nephew,” she replies simply. “His name was Joseph.”

“Had?”

“Had.”

Soap’s brows furrow and he looks back at Simon who is now kneeling down and hushing one of the children who’d apparently fallen and skinned a knee. He watches as the man gently helps them sit up, wipes away the dirt, and puts a bandaid on their knee; his hands move to the child’s face where he gently wipes away the tears falling down their dusty cheeks.

“How old was the bairn?” he asks quietly.

“If I recall correctly…Joey was only four.”

Soap’s expression falls and he looks back at her. “No…”

“You recall in Mexico when he said he had a cold heart, yeah?” he nods. “Simon’s lost too much to let it be warm again,” she murmurs, eyes finally lifting to the LT, a fond look in her gaze as the man gently brushes the child’s hair as the young boy reaches up to touch the skull mask, not a hint of fear in the boy’s expression. “But even the cold can’t survive the warmth of memories.”

By the time exfil comes, they practically have to pull the man away from the children whilst he unlatches their arms from around his legs, laughter and tears in the air as the kids run down the street waving at the back of the jeep driving off into the distance.

She busies herself with letting her loved ones know she’s alive and well, occasionally glancing at Soap next to her whose leg hasn’t stopped bouncing since they got in the jeep.

After a moment, Soap pulls his phone out and nudges Ghost, waiting until the man looks down at the screen.

“Wanna see my sister and brother’s bairns?” he asks quietly, a hopeful smile on his face.

Ghost blinks, expression stern, and Soap expects a no, but then the LT’s head turns and looks down, eyes softening at the sight of a pair of triplet boys dressed in Sunday finery, baby newsboy caps on their heads, fire on their heads as they grin toothily at the camera.

“Tha’s ma sister’s bairns. Angus, Alastair, and Arran. Their heids are licks of fire, rambunctious lot they are. Only four the lot of them but they—”

She quietly observes the scene unfolding beside her, gaze soft as she sees the reflection of the same gentle love in Ghost’s eyes, even more when he plays a video of the three boys tackling Soap into the hills of the Scottish highlands, squeals of laughter and love escaping the boys as Soap hugs them tightly and pretends to gnaw on their arms and necks.

“They’d love you,” Soap murmurs. “If ya wanna come for Christmas, mam would love to…” he trails off.

“We’ll be there,” she says before Ghost can reply and the man looks over at her; she cocks a brow. “What we don’t have plans for Christmas?”

Ghost is unusually quiet for a moment then he nods. “We’ll be there.”

[eowynstwin]

@ceilidho tagged me in a wip challenge, i think it's a 1k word thing? (checks notes) Oh it's WIP Wednesday!

no pressure tags: @smoggyfogbottom @lunarvicar @391780

Meanwhile, have 1k of a gangbang I may or may not finish. Set in the neighborsverse but completely noncanon. Or is it??? (It isn't.)

“That comfortable, love?” John asks as he adjusts the blindfold. “Not too tight?”

“Feels fine,” you say, blinking against the fabric. 

The silhouettes of the other men are dim through the weave, but you can pick each one out by where they are sitting from before John tied your eyes. Ghost is leaning against the front door, arms crossed loosely over his chest. Soap is sprawled across John’s couch, and you know he’s still wearing that rakish grin. And Gaz has his elbows on the back of John’s armchair, drumming his fingers against the cushion.

All of them have their eyes on you. You don’t need to see it to know. You can feel it. Their gazes on you, as you sit kneeled on the rug, are every bit as tangible as the warm air that billows from the radiator across your bare skin. You are in a filmy, sleeveless dress, and nothing else.

“Rules of the game,” says John, fingers lightly tracing the sides of your neck, “you have to figure out which of my men is which. If you do, we get to move on. If you don’t, you have to try again.”

You nod. “Yes, John.”

Someone takes in a breath. “Shite.” You’re pretty sure it’s Soap. You don’t hide your smile.

“Meanwhile, you lot have your orders,” John addresses the other men. “And you know I’ll step in if I have to. She’s also got her killswitch if she needs it. Don’t you, love?”

“Benzo,” you relay obediently. 

Someone snorts. “The ex? Really?” Gaz says aloud.

“It’s a pill,” you reply sweetly. “There’s no relation.”

“Sure, hen,” Soap chuckles, “and I sailed a banana boat down the Clyde.”

“English, Johnny.”

“Awa’ an bile yer heid!”

You feel John press his lips to your hair, feel him cup your jaw on both sides with long fingers. “I’ll be here the whole time,” he murmurs.

Heat pools in the pit of your stomach, begins to seep into your skin. Your pulse is a steady, strong beat behind the drum of your breastbone. “Yes, John.”

You know he’s given the men a signal to begin, because Soap rises from the couch to approach you.

John’s hands leave your neck and travel, flat and fingers spread, down your back as a new pair cradles your face. Fingertips trace the outlines of your browbone, press into the hinge of your jaw as warm lips brush teasingly against yours, breath fanning across your mouth.

You part your lips to let out a shaky sigh, and that’s when he kisses you, firm and playful. The hands slide from your face to the sides of your neck, encircling as the thumbs press into the soft underside of your chin, while the tip of his tongue grazes the edge of your teeth. It’s a kiss that knows it’s getting seconds, and wants to make sure you look forward to it.

Soap pulls away, dragging his hands up your neck and along your jaw before his touch retreats.

“Gaz,” you pretend to guess.

“Wrong,” John murmurs. He presses his mouth against your bare shoulder, and you can feel him smile. “Next.”

Next is Gaz, who kisses you without preamble, hands resting on your hips and squeezing. He’s smiling, too, and rather than one kiss he gives you several, tiny pecks from one corner of your mouth to the other that are unexpectedly ticklish.

You can’t help your giggle, and you know if you get them all wrong the jig will be up. “Alright, that’s Gaz.”

“All day,” says the sergeant, a laugh in his tone. He kisses you again for getting it right, his hands ascending to squeeze you around the waist, and then he retreats.

Ghost comes to you then, and he does not touch you. Even on his knees, he towers over you, and you feel his hands brace on either side of your thighs as he leans down to your level. You can’t feel his breath on your face, but you can feel his eyes as he looks at you.

He leans in a moment later, and presses his mouth very softly to your chin.

“Oh,” you breathe, tender and trembling at the gentleness.

“S’alright,” John says over your shoulder, low and rumbling, and you know he’s not talking to you. His hands are warm and soothing on your low back. “She likes it just like that. Go on.”

Then Ghost’s lips press to yours, feather-light, coaxing, moving along the contours of your mouth. You can’t help leaning into it, magnetized, and when you do Ghost seems to get more comfortable—he kisses you harder, one big hand cupping the back of your neck, his tongue easing between your teeth to stroke your own. A moan leaves you, completely unbidden, low and needy.

“Christ,” Soap says. You hear the sound of a hand against fabric, and your whole body throbs when you realize he’s rubbing himself over his trousers.

“How’s this supposed to be a game if you give it away, sergeant?” Price grouses.

You laugh against Ghost’s mouth, and he rewards you for it with the slide of his hand into your hair, gripping firm at the root as he tilts your head and licks deeper into your mouth. Your hands come up to steady yourself on the broad plane of his chest, his pectorals flexing beneath your palms. You can barely breathe as he practically drinks from you, his lips wet and noisy against yours.

“Jesus, LT, you’re just going for it,” Gaz says, clearly impressed.

Ghost finally pulls away, and you pant for oxygen as he breathes evenly, seemingly unaffected. “Someone’s got to show you muppets how to do it.”

Price’s hand strokes over the hair that Ghost had mussed. “Watch yourself.”

“Sad you can’t join in, Cap?” Soap laughs. “Wouldn’t be fair, would it? You could pick him out right away, aye, hen?”

[cwarscars]

[ cuff ] — my muse handcuffs your muse (since Heid likes to be told what to do by a woman, ahem 8D)

kinky/rough smut prompts

CW: VERY NSFW! contains potentially uncomfortable kinks like bondage, cum play, knife play, sensation play, etc. feel free to combine prompts & change pronouns/descriptors as needed. put under a read more for viewing safety, & it’s also rather lengthy as well. written from the perspective of the sender — ‘my muse’ = sender, ‘your muse’ = receiver. !!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!!

@stingslikeabee

a day together outside of work - a sweet bliss so rare that the day has almost had him nervous. melissa at his side and his house entirely theirs to share; her curiosity at each and every trinket, a delight. a framed photograph of his wife set face-down to a table. everything else admired and adored.

a soft bit of play that had taken them from the lounge to the bedroom, lips and fingers that had explored the curves of each other. his hands firm on her form, a curl of his fingers around her waist that had quickly become a warm embrace - strength urged when he'd lifted her up from the floor and pulled her onto the bed. a chuckle neither can help escape them, whispers that come with a kiss - "i can't get enough of you-" - it isn't a lie. he really can't help but touch her; hell, since the affair had begun, it'd been hard to keep his hands off of her.

the slightest grazes of hands in the office, any excuse to get close - to have his lips ( or hips ) near hers. she had become a highlight, no - a necessity in his day. a quenching to his thirst, an addiction like any other ( dangerous, too ).

still - he'd not have it any other way. if anything, he'd found himself pining for more. eager to show her all; from flecks of his past to his secret desires.

not that she'd know the extent of his fantasies - only the briefest hint here and there. the slightest of submission when she'd uttered his name. that time she'd straddled his hips in the office, jerked him off through his pants as he'd sat red-faced at his desk. her words, a constant tease. a tease enough to have him entirely at her mercy. the littlest of hints that he weren't all brutal.

perhaps his desires had been too obvious -

for when she explores a drawer and pulls free a pair of cuffs, a smile spread across her lips and a certain look in her eye -

he finds himself hitching a breath.

gods have mercy; his cock twitches at the mere sight of her holding them. the lacy gown she dons, her breasts ample and her thighs, luscious. skin teased with a dress so short - a dress near-see-through. still, he only thinks about ripping it off. carnal desire supressed ( or is it, teased? ) with the way she encourages him to lie, climbs atop him and snaps the cuffs around his wrists. has him chained in a way that makes him entirely hers -

heidegger feigns his disinterest, acts as though the kink isn't one he's fantasied about more times than many. shifts his gaze & teases a smirk. the red of his cheeks a giveaway but the stiffness between his legs, more-so.

his enthusiasm felt in the hardness that she presses up against - boxers slid free of his hips to reveal his swollen member, a damp on its edge - his breaths losing him at the smile she dons.

"so -" he breathes "what now-" the slightest laugh, a lick of embarrassment that has thighs aching and his cock jerk. the sensitivity that inspires a press of his lip when she grazes him with the slightest touch. "you've got me all to yourself" gosh, it has him almost choking to say. a fantasy come-to-life; a woman in absolute control. his body, hers.

him; her personal sex toy.

he can feel nerves edged, the cut of the cuffs rough on skin. even when she stays still, he can feel his cock seize between his thighs. each and every second another tremble of flesh; his member, thick and throbbing. the faintest glimmer of pre-cum, a flavour he'd beg her to try. the mere act of being bound, enough to edge him. despite his usual refrain and despite what she may or may not know -

she has him entirely at her mercy.

her answer comes in the form of a wider smile, hand slid around the girth of his cock - the slightest squeeze to have him squirm - a thumb that taunts nerve, a lick of her lips. "i do" she purrs, a free hand coursing up her gown, fingers that free her breasts, body caressed to tease the two of them. "don't i-" she leans in close, her body pressed to his, her lips on his neck and a kiss that turns to a bite "magnar-"

and with that his head is pushed back into the pillow; absolute submission as his cock pleas for more.

gods, what a woman.

[machine-herald-archive]

Ensemble - Rayla Heide

The plump belly of the Rising Howl looms before me, churning with its endless gears and elaborate ironwork. Some say the Howl is named for the wrought iron wolf that cries atop the apex of the hexdraulic descender; others swear the ghost of a black-veiled gentle-servant haunts the cabin, and when the Howl lifts him away from his lost love in Zaun, the sounds of his moans reverberate and shake its metal core. Many Piltovans, convinced as they are in their own sound judgment, are sure the name refers to nothing more than the cold wind whistling between the crevasses below their city.

But to me the Howl is not a single lone cry. It is an orchestra of noise, a melodic blend of a thousand unique sounds. It is why I am drawn to the machine.

The multi-tiered elevator, supported by three vertical structural beams which span the height of the city, descends to the Promenade level and slows to a lurching halt.

“Disembark for the Promenade!” the conductor announces, her voice magnified by a bell-shaped sonophone. She adjusts her thick goggles as she speaks. “Boundary Markets, College of Techmaturgy, Horticultural Center.”

Passengers pour from the descender. Dozens of others board and spread throughout its floors: merchants traveling to Zaun to trade in the night bazaars, workers returning home to sleep, wealthy Zaunites visiting night blooms in glass-domed cultivairs. Then there are the unseen riders who have made the Howl their home. I spy them scurrying in the shadows: plague rats, shadowhares, and viridian beetles.

Sometimes I climb down the crevasses to descend to the Sump, but tonight I long for the harmony of noise I know the descender will create.

Instead of entering through the doorway, I swing around the outside and lock my grip on the bottommost bar where ridged steel brackets frame the glass windows. My metal plates clank as I clamber onto the Howl, drawing stares from the passengers and what looks like a grimace from the conductor. My knowledge of facial expressions grows each day.

Most passengers ride within the compartment, away from the cold and soot, but outside, in the open air, I can hear the satisfying click-clack of mechanical parts snapping into place and the soft hiss of steam releasing as we sink into Zaun. And besides, I don’t easily fit through most doors.

A small boy clings to his sump-scrapper father’s hand and gapes at me through the window. I wink at him and his mouth opens in what I estimate is surprise. He ducks behind his father.

“Going down!” says the conductor. She rings a large bell and adjusts the dials on a bright red box. I can almost feel the commands buzz as they surge through wires into the descender’s engine.

Below us, the iron pinnacles of Zaun’s towers and green glass cultivairs glitter like candles in the dimming light. The Howl whirs and creaks as its cranks spiral down against the three towering beams, weighted down with iron, steel, and glass. A blast of steam whistles from the topmost pipe.

Inside the cabin, the sump-scrapper and his child look on as a musician tunes his four-stringed chittarone and begins a sonorous melody. His tune synchronizes with the clacking gears and whirring machinery of the Howl. The father taps his foot to the rhythm. A beetle snaps her pincers as she scrambles away from the man’s heavy boot. A gang of chem-punks lean against the wall in soft repose, a pause so unlike their usual frenzied jaunts through the city.

The Howl whirs in its perfect fusion of sounds during our descent. I marvel at the symphony around me and find myself humming along to the deep buzzing tones. The rhythm thrums through me and I wonder if those around me feel it.

“Entresol!” the conductor calls out as the descender slows. A pair of couriers carrying parcels wrapped in twine disembark, along with a crew of chemtech researchers and a crowd of chem-merchants. A merry crowd of Zaunites from the theater district steps aboard.

“Down we go!” she says, ringing her bell, and the Howl responds with a whir. The descender sinks and the windows mist as vapor pours from pipes above. Beads of water spread across my metallic chest as the harmony of clanking machinery and whooshing steam begins anew.

A discordant murmur interrupts the pattern of sounds. The vibration is subtle, but I can tell something is off. The descender continues as if all was normal, until a jarring clunk breaks its perfect rhythm.

Though I have never dreamed, I know a break in the pattern this abrupt is a machine’s most frightening nightmare.

The spiralling gearway is jammed, and the cabin’s iron brackets grate against it with a horrible screech. Many lives are at stake and I feel the machine’s pain as it braces desperately against the support beams. The entire weight of the Howl heaves against its bending columns and the cabin tilts at a lurching angle. Rivets burst from their seams as metal is pulled away from itself.

We wobble for a moment, then drop.

Inside the cabin, passengers scream and grasp at the nearest railing as they plunge. This is a different kind of howl.

I tighten my hold on the cabin’s bottommost platform. I extend my other arm, launching it toward one of the three vertical structural beams. The iron column is slippery in the mist and my grip misses it by inches. I retract my arm and steam blasts from my back as I try again, whizzing it toward a second beam. Another miss.

Time slows. Inside the cabin, the chem-punks cling to a ledge while the viridian beetle flies out an open window. The sump-scrapper and his child brace themselves against the glass, which fractures under their weight. The boy tumbles out, scrabbling at the frame with his fingers before he slips and falls.

I reach up and catch the boy in mid-flight, then retract my arm.

“Hold on,” I say.

The child clings to the plates on my back.

I fire my arm up toward the support beam once more, and this time my hand meets solid metal with a resounding clang as I secure my hold. My other arm is forced to extend as it’s wrenched down by the plunging cabin, so much that I feel my joints might fracture. Suspended in midair, I try to steady my grip.

With a great jolt, my arm jerks as the descender halts its freefall. It shakes from the sudden stop, now supported only by my arm. The boy shudders as he tightens his grip on my back.

The Howl is still fifty feet above the ground, hovering over the Sump-level buildings. My overlapping metal plates groan as they strain against the weight and I concentrate all my efforts on holding myself together. If I fall, the Howl falls with me, along with all its passengers.

While locking my arm onto the support beam, I slide my arm down the pillar. We drop ten feet and the cabin sways precariously before stabilizing again.

“Sorry about that!” I shout. Statements of empathy can be reassuring to humans in moments of crisis.

I must try again. I must be strong.

I release my grip on the support column ever so slightly, and with a piercing screech we gently slide down the remaining forty feet to the ground. My valves sigh as they contract.

Passengers echo my sighs as they stumble through the doors and broken windows into the Sump level, leaning on each other for support.

The boy on my back breathes rapidly as he holds my neck. My arms whir as I retract them and lower myself to the floor, crouching down so the child can touch the ground. He scrambles back to his father, who embraces him.

The conductor emerges from the descender and looks at me.

“You saved us. All of us,” she says, her voice shaking from what I think is shock. “Thank you.”

“I am simply fulfilling my purpose,” I say. “I am glad you are not hurt. Have a good day.”

She smiles, then turns to direct the crowd of Zaunites who have gathered to offer their assistance to the passengers and begin repairs. One of the chem-punk girls carries the musician’s chittarone for him as he crawls from the descender. Several of the theater-folk comfort an elderly man.

Two Hex-mechanics stumble toward me and I direct them to a medical officer who is setting up a tented repair station. The murmurs of the passengers and the hissing groans of the wounded descender blend with the whirrs and churning of the Sump. The steam-engine within my chest murmurs along, and I am moved to whistle a tune.

The boy turns and waves shyly at me.

I wave back.

He runs to catch up with his father, his heavy boots tapping a rhythm on the cobblestones. Shifting wheels sing and gears click-clack within the belly of the Rising Howl. The viridian beetle snaps her pincers in time with the beat as she zooms away into the Sump.

[dumpsiteforfics]

Alpha Aaron doing everything he can to make his omega Spence smile, and pregnant omega Spencer crying everytime Aaron tries to do something for him!

Aaron: Baby I did it because I thought you would be happy! 🙁

Spencer: I'm happy Aaron, I can't ho that instead of smiling I now cry at every good thing! I'm emotional 🥺

And Aaron cooing softly at his cuteness, red nose, little sniffles and wet eyes. He places smooches all over those cheeks which are finally chubbier enough due to pregnancy, and he can't get enough of those!

Don't take him wrong, he likes his omega's high cheekbones and killer jawline, but he is head over heels in love with his chubby cheeks too!! Pregnancy has just made his omega more beautiful and adorable and if he was in love before, he is falling all over again in love with same man every single day!!!

[more-heid-pls]

heid hcs on a case (dating)

hotch is a professional so he never treats spencer any differently when they’re on a case or in the office

well that’s what he tells himself. he ignores the part where he always pairs them together, stands close to his baby, gets super upset when spencer does something even remotely dangerous, immediately touches his gun if an LEO looks at spence wrong or if a suspect gets in the boys personal space

i think he reels in the professionalism when they get farther into their relationship and especially when married, but he just can’t help it when it’s all new

after hours when it’s just them, spence does his paperwork in aaron’s office

they always share a room, (much to strauss’ dismay) just cause they need the emotional support. dating heid is messy, they have a lot of emotions and being able to just be close and relax is all they could ever ask for

spencer is needy, he’s never been able to act so freely around someone. when a case gets really stressful aaron will stop him around corners and gives him a chaste kiss and soft smile

idk if this is what you wanted, sorry if it sucks 💀 also side note, i think the team figures the two of them out ridiculously fast. i mean come on, reading people is literally their jobs

[anamsgith]

-= 19 - Soul =-

[ Tw: dysphoria ]

It had been six moons now since Rhes had welcomed his newest Ward into his care. A bright young man named Seoras whose image was every bit the opposite of Rhes' own; dark skin instead of ashen, vibrant auburn hair instead of gray and deep hazel eyes that made Rhes think of an excited cat. Seoras was lanky, his movements showing a care that few youngsters grasped this early on. He'd managed to sneak up on Rhes several times and that was impressive in itself.

But lately the young man hadn't been quite himself.

Where there had been excitement in learning the skills and ways of being a Warder was now replaced with hesitance. The constant questions to learn the why of the things outside the village had gone silent. Even the young man's usually smiling eyes had gone flat and often downcast.

He was not himself.

"Here, kid." Rhes spoke up as they prepared the stone border for their campfire. He was careful to keep his tone of voice calm. "Y'daein' aricht? Ye've no quite been yersel' this last wee while. Some'hin' botherin' ye?"

Those hands hovered over the rock that had just been placed and it took Seoras quite some time before he actually spoke. When he did it was hesitant and- if Rhes was hearing correctly- fearful?

"Do you ever… Hmn." Seoras paused, starting again. "When you lookit your hands, do they ever... feel… not yours?"

Now it was Rhes' turn to pause, placing down the rock he held but keeping his hand on it. His brow drew down into a soft frown.

"Naw, can't say I've ever experienced tha' one. Y'feelin' okay?"

"Yes… and also no? It's like… lately I don't feel like me? I-I know that I'm me- that I'm here and alive- but my… me? It feels wrong somehow. That probably doesn't make sense…"

Seoras was right. To Rhes it wasn't really making much sense. How could someone not feel like themself? Sure, there were days when inner sadness could overwhelm and make someone feel like they weren't real, but his intuition told him that wasn't quite what Seoras meant.

"Ye mean like yer possessed or some'hin'? Or y'feel like yer in a walkin' dream?"

The young man shook his head as Rhes prodded, sitting back on his heels and forgetting about the rocks for now. His body had relaxed and the note of fear was almost completely gone. Once the words begun they didn't seem to stop. Whatever Seoras needed to figure out, it had clearly been haunting him for some time now.

"No quite? It's… It's like when ye dream of being someone else, yeah? One of those long dreams that when ye wake up it takes a bit to shake the feelin' of being that other person. Only… that feelin' hasn't gone away. It's got stronger. So this," Seoras brought his hands up to tap gingerly against his chest, "feels… wrong."

Finally, Rhes' brain managed to piece together what that possibly could mean. His eyes looked over his Ward in a new light and he, too, sat back and ignored the firepit for the moment.

"I think I getcha. Lemme ask ye some'hin' then, kid; d'ye miss th'village? Is this life no fer you?" When Seoras went to object, Rhes rose a hand. "Aye, I ken, boys cannae stay there, but entertain th'thought. If ye coul' go back, live that life wi' th'women, woul' ye wannae?"

Seoras fell silent. The frown that he had placed on the half built firepit was so intense it might have bored through the rock if he kept on for long enough. Eventually, he nodded, and Rhes gently asked his next question.

"An' when ye think've that scenario, in yer heid how dae y'dress…?"

Seoras turned to simply stare at him. Those hazel eyes were wide enough to swallow Rhes whole. Though his mouth worked, no sound came out. And none were necessary. That expression told Rhes everything he needed to know.

He remembered once, when he was still very young, of a Warden returning with their Ward. The youngster had been crying, but the adults had been smiling and when Rhes had asked his mother about it later she had simply said, "They understand who they are now."

He hadn't understood back then. It wasn't until many summers later when he met that same Ward, transformed, as she handed Kosve over to him that those words finally made sense. That what was inside sometimes didn't match the outside. That sometimes Wards would come back before a full summer and the next day the women would have another pair of hands join theirs. Or one of the older Warden's would appear outwith the gathering time and leave with a Ward no one had seen before but was too old to have gone unnoticed.

And there was no shame in that.

"Dae me a favour, wee yin," Rhes spoke quickly, the tone of his voice back to normal conversation in order to jolt Seoras back out of their mind. "I'll finish up th'firepit, you awa an' find us some decent wid fir a fire, aye? As much as y'can fit in those arms."

Seoras fumbled a moment as the world around them came back into proper focus. Wobbling to their feet they strapped on their quiver, picked up their bow and slung it over a shoulder. There was a brief hesitance, as if Seoras had another question, but it went unanswered as the youth scampered off to complete his task.

The moment his Ward was out of sight, Rhes abandoned the firepit and moved to the bundle of fabric that served as his fèilaedh-mòr and began to spread it out across the hard ground. There was enough fabric to wrap around his body and then cover his upper half in a cloak-like manner. Easy enough to half it. He'd just have to make do with cold shoulders in the rain for a while.

Rhes grabbed his hunting knife and sliced the fabric roughly in two with a good deal of effort. Now came the hard part.

Seoras returned after the shadows had moved a full hand over, laden down with wood of various sizes and shapes in a pile so large they could barely see over it. When it was dropped beside the firepit with a clatter, they frowned. It was still not finished. In fact, it was exactly the same as it had been when Rhes requested firewood.

"Uh… What have ye been doing?"

It hadn't meant to sound accusatory but Seoras would be lying if they weren't a little irked at having done so much work when Rhes had sat here doing nothing. Looking over, they found Rhes lounging against a nearby fallen log he had dragged over to function as seating.

"Close yer eyes."

"Excuse me…?"

"Ye heard me; close yer eyes."

Seoras did as instructed, albeit with a confused grumble. Their frown deepened as the sounds of Rhes scraping about and flapping some sort of fabric made them want to peek. His footsteps came closer until Seoras was certain that Rhes was within arms reach.

"Righ'. I've no done awny'hin' like this a'fore but it's th'best I could dae. Y'can open yer eyes noo."

Once more Seoras did as was requested and found both hands flying up to catch a gasp that all but jumped out. Using half of his fèilaedh, Rhes had managed to fashion a very simple dress. It had no sleeves and the stitching was very rough, but at that moment, as pieces of the puzzle slid into place, Seoras didn't care.

The youngster darted forward and slammed into Rhes' chest. They weren't tall enough to hug him properly so instead they settled for squeezing the life from his waist. Tears they hadn't known were hiding burst forth in relief of acknowledgment. Of realisation. Rhes brought a hand up, placing it gently atop that head of bright auburn hair while the dress stayed pinned between the pair of them.

He held onto his young charge until that river exhausted itself and a pair of bleary eyes looked up at him, tentatively fingering the dress. The laughter that bubbled up was one of joy. A piercing beam of sunlight finally breaming through a clouded sky.

Tomorrow their journey began anew.

And in two suns time, a new pair of hands would join the women in their work.

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

I Loved Him... Once - CH 2

Title: I Loved Him… Once

Author: jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Heid (Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid)

Rating: This ones General but eventually as the series goes it will be Explicit

Tags: canon typical violence and gore, eventual smut as the series goes, angst, fluff, pining., its gunna be a slow burn guys.

Summary: A series following the team as they solve crimes and take down the bad guys.

     In Part one of this series, we follow the team as they take down a serial killer that has taken a piece of one of their own. And through it all, Spencer and Hotch come to a few conclusions and realizations of their own.

AO3 Link

Masterlist

*** My works are not to be posted on any sites without my permission! But comments and reblogs are love! <3 Please and thanks!!

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

Chapter two

     "Mommy, Mommy! Are you watching me?!"

     "I see you, Honey! That's very good!"

     "Watch again!"

     JJ smiled as she sat in the folding lawn chair, the legs slowly sinking down into the soft sand, a smile gracing her face as she watched her son swimming in the lake. A hand came from her side to rest over hers on the arm of her chair, entwining their fingers together, and she turned to smile over at her husband. 

     "I can't believe we've actually had five full vacation days without an emergency call in."

     "Me neither," Will smiled back as he brought her hand up to his mouth to kiss it, "it's nice to have some family time, no work, no cases, just you, me, and Henry."

     She hummed her agreement, then added, "We'll have to send your Aunt some flowers when we get back, thank her for letting us use the trailer this week."

     "Yeah, she'll like that."

     They sat in comfortable silence, watching Henry splash around, blissfully happy to just be together and free of the burdens of their heavy jobs. 

     The sun was starting to set, the air around them beginning to chill, so JJ turned over and pressed a quick kiss to Will's lips before standing and calling out, "Henry, come on out now!"

     "Ok!" 

     He ran out of the water towards his mom who was waiting to wrap him up tight in his favourite Captain America towel. She lifted him and held him close, pecking his cold wet cheek with a smack making him giggle. "What do you say we change into our pjs while Daddy starts a fire, and then we make smores!"

     "Yeah!" The boy shouted, throwing his arms in the air. 

     JJ laughed as he just missed smacking her in the face, and Will joined them after packing up the chairs and Henry's water Toys. He walked with his hand on the small of JJ's back as they headed back to the trailer, Henry extremely excited about smores. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

     Day six of Spencer's lecture series and he had finally made it to the lecture he was most anticipating. ‘Synthetic Metals: A Novel Role For Organic Polymers’ presented by Dr. Alan G. MacDiarmid, and he honestly hadn't known himself to ever be more excited then he was right now. 

     He arrived at the venue early, was the first person in line to enter the auditorium, and found himself a seat front and center. It wasn't long before the doctor was standing at the podium, instantly diving deep into the bones of the lecture, and Spencer couldn't believe he was finally here. Dr. MacDiarmid was enthralling. He captivated the attention of everyone in the auditorium, including spencer. And even though the topic of the lecture was something Spencer had been very interested in learning more about, and nothing against the amazing Dr. Macdiarmid, but about halfway through the lecture Spencer found his mind beginning to wander to other things.

     It was about the thirty minute mark of the lecture, and the doctor was talking about what he and his team had been working on over the past few years regarding the emerging potential technological applications of synthetic metals, beginning with the topic of spun polyaniline fibers and their applications to the future of nanotechnologies, when Spencer really found his concentration moving on to other things. Suddenly he was brought back to his brief conversation with Aaron in the bullpen before he left. His eidetic memory replaying the entire scene perfectly, right down to every twitch and shift in Aaron’s face, and every slight change in his demeanor while they spoke. Even the falter in his words before wishing him a good night before leaving the bureau. It wasn't like his steadfast boss to hesitate like that, his words and movements were always so sure, so he couldn't help it if he wondered if there was maybe something more behind the awkward exchange between him and Aaron.

     And in relation to those thoughts, he was also reminded of his conversations with Emily and Derek earlier that night. Were they right? Was he too uptight? Should he take their advice and have some fun for once, relax? Let his brain shut off and as Derek had so gracefully put it, take advantage of their time off to enjoy ‘a little sand, a little sun, and a whole lotta’ fun’? Maybe it would be good for him to spend a day doing something that didn't involve endlessly shoving knowledge down his throat, just doing nothing. And on that note he wondered if maybe… maybe Aaron would like to spend a day doing nothing with him…

     Suddenly, in an instant Spencer was on his feet, standing stock still in the middle of the auditorium. Dr. MacDiarmid stopped mid-sentence, staring at Spencer with concern along with the rest of the guests in their seats. When he didn't move or make a sound for a good few minutes, the doctor slowly moved from behind the podium to approach Spencer with caution asking, “Sir, are you alright? Do you need anything?”

     Spencer turned towards the doctor but didn't look at him. His eyes remained fixed on the floor in front of him, almost as if they were searching for the answer to his unasked question. His brows furrowed as his brain continued rapidly searching through every memory of him and Aaron, every encounter, every conversation, every look between them, and suddenly… he was pretty sure he had found his answer. A moment of pure enlightenment.

     “Son…” The doctor took a few more steps closer, placing a gentle hand on Spencer's shoulder, “Son, are you alright?”

     “I…” He finally looked up from the ground, his thoughtful expression turning to one of elation, of contentment, a smile slowly creeping across his face as he answered, “I have to go.”

     “I… Son?” The doctor called after him, but Spencer was already gone. He slung his book bag over his shoulder as he took the stairs out of the auditorium three at a time and burst out the doors. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

     Aaron was just about at the end of his patience. He had spent the first two days of his vacation on the phone with Haley fighting to get time with Jack while he was off, and now on day two he was at the point of practically begging. 

     “Haley, please. I have fourteen days off but who knows how many days I'll actually get before I have to go back for a case,” he sighed into the phone, running a heavy hand down his face as he plopped down on the couch, “all I’m asking for is a few days with my son. You have him full time while I'm working, the least you could do is give me a few days.”

     “He's supposed to be spending the weekend with my parents, Aaron,” she sniped back at him, not a care to the fact that Aaron hadn't seen Jack in over a month.

     “He sees your parents all the time, he saw them two weeks ago. You can reschedule the visit with your parents for any time, but I never know how much time I have before getting called away. I would appreciate a few days here and there when I ask for it, without having to go through this every time.”

     Silence fell over their call for a moment before he heard Haley sigh and knew he had won his case. “Fine,” she huffed, clearly annoyed, “I'll drop him off in an hour, call me in a few days when you want me to come get him.”

     “Thank-you, I'll be ready for him.”

     Without a good-bye or even another word, she hung up the phone. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

     Not two hours later there was a light knock at his door and Aaron jumped off the couch, running to open it.

     “Daddy!” 

     “Hey, buddy!” 

     Jack ran through the door and jumped into Aaron’s arms, sinking his entire body into hugging his dad as tightly as he could. And Aaron gave as good as he got, squishing his son with a smile. 

     Haley walked in behind Jack, watching them, then making eye contact with Aaron over Jack's shoulder. “Call me when he's ready to come home.”

     Aaron nodded, then gave Jack a pat on the back before lowering him to the floor and saying, “Go say bye to Mommy, Jack.”

     He ran over to capture Haley in much the same way as he had hugged Aaron, whispered a goodbye and placed a kiss on her cheek. “Good-bye, my sweet boy, have fun with your Daddy, call me every night before bed, okay.”

     “Okay, Mommy.”

     “Alright,” she said, placing one last kiss to the top of his head before standing and heading for the door, “I'll see you in a few days.”

     She closed the door behind her and Jack immediately ran back over to hug Aaron, who willingly lifted him in his arms again. “I missed you, Daddy.”

     “I missed you too, buddy, I always miss you when you're not here.”

     “I know.”

     Hotch chuckled, then walked Jack over to the kitchen table and placed him in a chair before sitting across from him. He pushed the plate of snacks he’d put together before Jack got there, grabbing one of the small sandwiches for himself, before asking, “So, Jack, what do you want to do while you're here?”

     He made a show of thinking about it while he picked at the sandwich he had taken from the plate, then answered, “Can we go to the park?”

     “Of course, whatever you want.”

     Jack nodded, taking a bite then said, “I was supposed to go to grandma and grandpas house this weekend.”

     “I know, I'm sorry you couldn't visit them, buddy. I just don't know how much time off work I’ll have, or when I will be able to see you next.”

     “It's okay, I'm glad I didn't have to go.”

     Hotch couldn't help but smile a bit, “Why's that?”

     Jack shrugged, “They never take me to the park. They just tell me to play in the backyard, but that's no fun, there's no slides in the backyard.”

     He laughed, Jack was never one to hide his feelings and he loved that about his son. “Well, I promise I will take you to the park everyday while you're here with me, and you can go down the slide as much as you want.” Jack smiled at that, clearly pleased. “Is there anything else you want to do?”

     He made his adorable little thinking face again, but this time came up with nothing. Obviously trips to the park was the only expectation Jack had for this visit with his dad. So Aaron made a suggestion, “How about we go to the movies tonight? And we can get take out for dinner.”

     “Can it be McDonalds?!” 

     He was so excited he nearly jumped over the table, his mom never let him have McDonalds. “Sure, why don't you go get a sweater and we’ll head out now.”

     “Yay!” 

     It took Jack all of two minutes to run to his room, grab a sweater from the closet, and was ready and waiting at the door before Aaron had even grabbed his shoes.

~~~~~~~~~~~

     Four days, he had gotten four full days off with Jack without any interruption and it was great. Jack was all smiles, loving every minute of being with Aaron and he was much the same, enjoying every second he could get with his son. They did go to the movies their first night together, and got McDonalds for dinner as promised. Aaron knew Haley never let Jack have things like fast food, pop, or candy, so he always made sure Jack got his fill when he stayed with him. 

     Over their time together, Aaron had also taken him to the local science center, where Jack was all too happy to learn about space in the astronomy section. They also visited the aquarium, Jack's favourites were the sharks and Aaron had to admit they were pretty awesome, the art gallery, and not to mention daily visits to the local park by Aaron’s apartment. Which is where they found themselves now on their fourth day together, walking across the soccer field to get to the large playground. 

     Jack wiggled excitedly in Aaron’s arms as he walked them over, scanning the playground and desperately trying to get free when he saw his friend on the swings. “Daddy, Markus is here!”

     Aaron put him on the ground and Jack was speeding off in an instant. “Stay where I can see you!”

     He didn't answer before making it over to sit on the swing beside Markus, but Aaron wasn't worried, Jack knew well enough to stay exactly where his dad could keep a close eye on him. And seeing as how Jack was having a good time playing with his friends, Aaron found himself a bench close by and sat to watch. He waved to a few of the other parents sitting and doing the same as him, but was perfectly happy to just sit by himself and enjoy the peace and quiet while Jack played happily.

~~~~~~~~~~~

     It was getting late, they still had dinner to make and the promise of a movie in their pj’s on the couch. He wondered if Spencer might like to join them. Wondered if maybe he should take Rossi's advice and call him, see if dinner and a movie with him and Jack was something Spencer might like to do with them. And after a few minutes of thinking about it, imagining the three of them on the couch together, tucked under the blankets with Spencer in a pair of borrowed pjs from Aaron, he decided he was going to call. When he got back home with Jack, before they ate he would do it, he would take the leap and make the call to Spencer.

     The other parents were starting to round up their kids as well, and Aaron was just about to call Jack over to start heading home, when his phone rang in his pocket. 

     He pulled it out with the all too familiar pang in his heart that came everytime he was in this position. On vacation, with Jack, and his phone rang. And everytime he has this moment where he thinks to himself maybe it's fine, maybe it's not work, but everytime he is always thoroughly disappointed. This time is no exception.

     He sighed, looking at the caller ID on his screen before answering, “Hotchner.”

     “Aaron, I need you and your team to come in.”

     “Erin, we’re supposed to be on a two week mandatory holiday,” he tried his best not to convey his anger through the phone, but he was sure he did not succeed. His team deserved this, needed this, and now he was going to have to break the bad news and ruin everything they had planned. 

     “I am aware of that, Agent Hotchner,” her no nonsense tone coming through, “but the other teams are all out in the field, and the California Police Department needs help now. You're all I've got, I have no other choice.”

     “Can’t one of the other teams finish up their current case, or split up their team to at least start working the case in California?”

     “I need you in the field, Aaron,” she was putting her foot down now and Aaron knew that was it, there was no fight here, “when can you get everyone back?”

     He waited a beat to answer, allowing himself a second to absorb the guilt he was feeling, then answered, “We have a few members of the team out of the country right now, I can probably get everyone back and in the office tomorrow afternoon if I start making calls and arranging flights now, evening at the latest, and we will leave for California right away.”

     “Great, I will see you all tomorrow.”

     And with that she hung up, not even giving Aaron the chance to say anything more that might refute her orders. And god, he wished he could. He wished with everything he had that he could tell her no, that he could let his team have the vacations they deserved. The time to relax, to spend with friends, with family, doing what they wanted for their full allotted two weeks. But he knew deep down he couldn't, and he also knew that despite how angry he knew his team would be, they would never blame him for their vacations being cut short. They would always drop everything they were doing, no matter how much it hurt them to do so, because there were always people out there who needed their help, and they would always be there to help them. That's one of the reasons they were the best team the Bureau had, and one of the reasons he was endlessly proud of them.

     With one last hard sigh he ran a hand down his face and called Jack over. He scooped him up and started making his way back to the car, strapping Jack in with the promise of still watching a movie of Jack's choice together after dinner. 

     After they ate and Aaron explained to Jack that he would have to go back to his moms the next morning, he settled Jack on the couch with popcorn and some blankets to scroll through their movie selection. 

     “Alright, you find a good movie for us to watch, and I'll be right back. Daddy just has to make some calls for work tomorrow.”

     “Okay, I'll find a good one.”

     Aaron nodded, but turned back to Jack with a last minute thought on his mind. “I'm sorry we have to cut the visit short, Jack, but I have to go in to work tomorrow, people need my help, you understand that right?”

     Jack nodded, eyes fixed on the tv while he answered, “It's okay, Daddy, I know you have to catch the bad guy. I can come back when you're done work and we can watch more movies.”

     Aaron smiled, so proud of his kid. “You sure can, buddy. Now you pick something good and I'll be right back.”

     He ducked into the kitchen holding his phone in his hand and just staring down at it for a moment. He took a second to compose himself back into boss mode, then dialed the number that had already been pulled up, wishing with all his might that this was not the call he was having to make to Spencer right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~

     Spencer burst through the door to his apartment like a man on fire. He tossed his shoulder bag aside, pulled out his phone, and looked at the time. It was a little after five, Aaron was probably at home right now, maybe eating dinner or watching tv, and more then likely with jack. So, it was now or never. One brief moment of bravery was all he needed, he could do this. He faced criminal masterminds every day, he could gather up the courage to send one text to Aaron asking him to have dinner… maybe.

     He quickly typed up a message, kind of a mess of his thoughts all forced out in one big push. But thankfully he read it before sending it, ‘Hi, I was just wondering how your vacation is going? I hope it's going well. I'm assuming you have some time with Jack these two weeks, maybe you'd both like to join me for a walk in the park, or even dinner and a movie night? I was thinking we could have some fun together since I believe we are the only two remaining in town.” 

     His thumb hovered over the send button, but he stopped himself, erased it and tried again. ‘Hello, Aaron. I hope your vacation is going well. Mine has been adequate so far. But before our departure from the BAU, Emily and Derek informed me that I could use some fun in my life. I hadn't been aware that I was lacking in the area, but perhaps you would like to join me for some fun before we return to work?’

     Again he erased it before he could bring himself to send the message, and he tried three more times after that, each one a failed attempt at asking Aaron out. And that's what he realized he was doing here, he was asking his boss on a date. It wasn't exactly something that Spencer had ever done before, always being the awkward, quiet guy who was far too shy to ever make the first move, but he found himself this time saying why not? Why not take the first leap? But every message he typed out sounded wrong, or awkward, or too formal, or not formal enough. 

     He stopped himself then, taking a deep calming breath before closing the text window and pulling up Aaron's phone number. Maybe it would be better to just call him, that way he couldn't overthink this as much as he was right now. He'd be forced to just jump right in.

     “Yeah, let's just call him. That's… that's the best option, right.” 

     He nodded to himself, psyched himself up a little bit, and was about to press the call button when his phone started ringing in his hands. The caller ID coming up as none other than Aaron Hotchner, the very man he was just about to call. His heart gave a little flutter at the idea that Aaron was calling him, maybe even for the same reason he was going to be calling him for. Maybe Aaron wanted this as much as he did, and he just hadn't seen it. The thought sent a jolt of electricity through him as he answered.

     “Hotch, hey, I was just about to call you-”

     “I'm sorry, Reid,” he stopped him short, “but whatever it was you had planned this week, is there any way you can cancel or rearrange? We need everyone back in the office no later than tomorrow evening.”

     “I…” He sighed, trying not to let his disappointment flow through the call. So he cleared his throat and tried to answer professionally. “Yeah, yeah, sure I can be there.”

     “Good, can you meet us at the office tomorrow evening, everyone should be back by then?”

     “Absolutely.”

     “Thanks, Reid, and I'm sorry to have to cut your vacation short.”

     “No problem, I will see you tomorrow.” They both hung up and it took all of Spencer's strength not to slam his phone down on the counter. “It's not like I had any fun plans anyways.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Next chapter we will be getting into more of the case and more Spencer and Hotch moments XD

Let me know what y’all think <3

[thefandomlesbian]

I already know what you’re gonna say but: Hotchreid/Heid/Spotch or whatever we are calling them now

For the rarer pairs: what about either Emily x Penelope or JJ x Hotch

HotchReid: I obviously love HotchReid (you called it, lmao). I'm a big sucker for "strong stoic character protects softer more vulnerable character/softer character draws out the vulnerability in the stoic character and teaches them how to lower their defenses" trope in... basically all of my stories and ships, so whenever I've got that dynamic to work with, it makes me go all 🥺🥺🥺🥺 I think Hotch and Reid lend themselves to each other very well especially with the foils in their personalities and motivations and I love any way of bringing together two traumatized people and helping them grow together.

Emily/Penelope: This is my third favorite Penelope ship! After Morcia and Hotcia. I really like their dynamic (see above the grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one) but I feel like Penelope could sometimes be Too Much and would become overbearing for Emily.

Jotch: I don't really care for JJ and Hotch together. I feel more or less the same for it that I feel for Hotchniss—I respect the shippers and understand how the characters have a lot in common, but I don't see them having any chemistry and prefer to see them as friends. I like Hotch supporting JJ and Emily through JJ's separation from Will and being an advocate for them in the bureau and providing pro bono law advice. HotchReid and Jemily are my couples-best friends quad, so crossing over that isn't great for me.

[dcjelliclequeen33]

I had this Idea this morning (while trying to get knots out of my own stubborn hair) and thought it would be really cute! Hope you enjoy!!

Summary- Clawdenia’s mane is finally coming in and still being fairly young she has no idea how to take proper care of it so her fathers, and a close firend, lend a paw.

Bad Mane Day

It was a normal late spring day in London, the sky was filled with lazy gray clouds, the birds were singing, humans were going about their lives, and the cats of the junkyard were gathered together doing as they do. It was around early afternoon when Clawdenia, a young maine coon queen with sandy colored spotted fur and bright green eyes, joined the others. One look at the young queen and anyone could tell she was in a sour mood, from her hunched posture to her flattened ears the young queen radiated frustration, and it wasn’t very hard to see why.

Much like her father Clawdenia had a mane, it wasn’t as big or full as her father’s yet but it was enough for the inexperienced queen to struggle with taming it on her own. As a result the small collar of thick fur was currently wild and tangled leading to Clawdenia dragging herself from the den in search of her fathers.

Finally she found Tugger sitting on a tire with Calypso helping the other queen with her singing. Calypso, like her twin sister, had the same type of fur but somehow she lucked out on her mane being small and relatively easy to manage, neither of their fathers expected Calypso’s mane to get much fuller than it currently was at half a year old.

“Daddy…”

Tugger looked over at his other daughter and after taking in the state of her mane gave a sympathetic smile.

“Come here kit, I’ll give you a hand.”

Clawdenia gave a small smile going to her father’s other side and laying down. Tugger examined his daughter’s mane, chuckling a little seeing the spots she’d tried to fix herself and remembering learning for himself how hard it could be.

“You tried to get the tangled out?”

Clawdenia nodded giving a shy smile.

“It made it worse.”

Tugger gave her a playful smirk.

“I’ll say it did kit. Okay, hold still.”

Clawdenia settled in letting him start working out the knots and tangles. Tugger had barely begun and Clawdenia was already hating it, she loved her father and all but he had never been the most gentle when it came to grooming, that was a job their papa too great pride and care in. Finally after an unintentionally rough tug at a tangle Clawdenia whined and shook her father off.

“Daddy you’re being too rough!”

Tugger looked worried for a moment before shaking it off with a small smile, he had to remember Clawdenia was still young, her mane while stubborn was still thinner than his own and didn’t need the firm hand his did.

“Sorry kit. You know your papa has experience taming manes with a gentler touch than this old cat, I saw him heading off to visit your aunt and brother.”

Clawdenia gave a relived smile seeing her father wasn’t upset she’d said he’d been too rough in grooming before she briefly pressed their foreheads together with a soft purr before heading off to find her papa. Just as her father had said she found her papa just leaving Bomba’s den smiling and promising to be back soon. Clawdenia went to the tuxedo tom and purred rubbing against him earning a chuckle before he placed his tail under her chin making her look at him.

“Finally decided to leave the den Denia?”

The female maine coon nodded giving a shy smile.

“I was trying to fix my mane, it didn’t go well.”

Misto smiled fondly looking over his daughter’s mane, he could see not only her handy work but also Tugger’s.

“I can see that, your dad tried to help didn’t he?”

Clawdenia nodded.

“Yeah but he was being too rough.”

Misto nodded, licking his daughter’s head.

“He’s not used to being gentle, his mane is thicker than yours and needs a less than gentle touch. Come on, I'll give you some help.”

Clawdenia smiled thankfully and followed her papa back to their den. It took almost an hour but by the end of it Misto had groomed out all the tangles and dirt leaving the collar of fur looking perfect. Clawdenia beamed at her papa nuzzling his cheek.

“Thank you papa!”

Misto chuckled, licking her head.

“Of course kit. Now shall we join everyone else?”

The young queen nodded and followed her papa back to the gathering space. As they made their way to Tugger and Calypso Clawdenia heard someone calling her name making her pause and smile seeing Heidi, Rumpleteazer’s adopted kitten, walking over. The young queen stopped and once Heidi was close enough, gave the other queen a charming smile.

“Hey Heid.”

The other queen gave a bashful smile and giggle before clearing her throat, making Clawdenia raise a brow at her but wait.

“Umm w-well Denia I was..um...I was wondering if you’d l-like to go on a w-walk with me.”

Slowly the maine coon’s smile returned and she swished her fluffy tail moving to the smaller queen’s side earning a sheepish smile and a faint blush.

“Sure, I think a walk sounds nice.”

Heidi’s smile widened as she watched Clawdenia look at her fathers, getting a nod of approval from both, before the pair headed off on their walk. It was around sunset when the two young queens reached the south most wall of the junkyard, the stars were just starting to twinkle to life in the darkening sky while the setting sun looked like it was setting the horizon on fire. The pair sat watching the sky for a long moment before Heidi took a deep breath and faced the maine coon queen flicking her tail nervously.

“Denia, I w-wanted to ask you s-something.”

Clawdenia gave her most charming smile, she felt a small swell of pride seeing the other queen blush a bit before the white and orange queen shook her head and closed her eyes.

“Would you go to the ball with me?!”

Clawdenia blinked a bit surprised by the sudden question before she smiled softly curling her tail under the other queen’s chin making Heidi open her eyes and meet the soft green orbs looking at her.

“It would be my pleasure Heidi.”

Heidi’s eyes brimmed with tears before she gave a watery laugh launching herself at the other queen earning a laugh as they tumbled to the ground giggling and purring. After a moment Clawdenia looked down at her mane and pouted seeing it was messed up.

“Not again.”

Heidi looked confused before following the other queen’s eyes and gave a soft smile.

“Your mane. Here sit up.”

Clawdenia raised a brow but did as she was told before her eyes widened as Heidi began softly grooming the messed up collar of fur easily clearing it of dirt and tangles without much pulling. Once it was done Heidi smiled proudly and Clawdenia gave her a completely charmed smile leaning down and licking her cheek softly.

“Thank you darling.”

Clawdenia couldn’t help but chuckle as Heidi’s eyes practically bugged out of her head and her face went bright red, she looked ready to faint making the maine coon queen chuckle and pull her close.

“Hey no passing out, we still have to go back to the others.”

Heidi took a moment before she relaxed and smiled with a nodd. With that the pair made their way back to the gathering area with bright smiles and twined tails.

[wutheringheightstillpendalhill]

(3/6) one-shot — What is love? — Post- Captain America Civil War / Pre-Spiderman: Homecoming — 2016— EARTH

Masterlist

Warning: polygamous relationship, slight underage (Kree mostly live for thousands of years so technically Estella and Ol-Amm are the equivalent age of Peter in their species and culture), fluff, Peter Parker needs a god damn hug, Peter Parker also needs some love and peace so stop being mean to him x

Ol lead the way as they slipped through the streets of Queens.

They’d been on the look out for their red and blue spider, Peter.

It had been a few days since the fight in German and the two young Kree had been compelled to find the young super hero. “He did say Queens right?” Ol-Amm questioned his sandy blonde haired companion.

“I heard him talking with Captain Rogers.. he said he was from Queens.. we only saw him afterwards when he left with Stark remember” they reminded him before spotting the red and blue hero swing over their heads, “up there follow him” they muttered grabbing onto their partners hand before rushing off towards the next part of their adventurous life.

——————————————————————

They stayed in Peter’s room.

It was just three of them, Peter had gotten back from school but instead of his usual routine patrols were they would follow after him making sure his dumbass doesn’t get beaten to a pulp like they had been doing for the past month, he wanted to stay and rest.

Ol sat with his back against one of the walls of the room whilst Peter lay with his head on one of his legs, Estella perched on the floor as Peter run his fingers through her hair in time with Ol-Amm as he ran his fingers through Peter’s soft curls. Peter could tell they all were ignoring the elephant in the room that came in the darkening bruises that branded his face and ribs, he knew from the moment the pair had seen him walking out of school towards them, it made his insides cringe at the heated anger that filled out behind their eyes as they looked over him before staying silent through the whole journey back to his home.

“I got into a fight..” a small voice filled the silent air making the two aliens look to the human, “who hurt you?” Ol spoke up first a twinge of anger could be heard in amongst his words. The teenager stayed silent refusing to look at either of his friends, “Peter.. we’re not angry at you... we’re worried is all we care about and we just want you to be safe” Estella said aloud from their spot on the floor, sighing the teen replied “Flash.. he was making jokes about Ned... I couldn’t just stand there and listen to someone talk about my best friend like that so.. so I told him to stop and then he started talking about Estel how they were probably only hanging around with me cause nobody else would want to hang out with a loser like me.. then I pushed him because he insulted them and he crashed into one of the lockers.....”. He almost flinched when he felt a hand take hold of his own giving it a reassuring squeeze, “it’s okay.. we’re still here.. we’re not going anywhere..” bright blue eyes met with deep brown as a glint of anxiety slowly vanished from the younger ones eyes, “I got detention for the rest of the week... Flash has it for the next two, I kinda let him just keep hitting me” he murmured to the end wanting to curl into himself at the sound of the Kree aliens sharp inhales.

“Peter that isn’t the right thing to do.” Estella states moving so that they were kneeling beside the bed looking down upon their friends face as their lover also shared the same look of concern whilst studying the boy, “what choice do I have Estel.. it’s not like I can really fight back.. I don’t wanna hurt anyone” he mumbled turning his face away from the pair.

Huffing out the breath of air they had been holding in, Estella climbed up onto the bed straddling the spider mutant, stunning the teen into submission as he whined allowing for the half Kree to link their fingers with his own. “Your a real dingus, Peter you know that” they spoke with a gentleness to their voice that made the poor boys insides flutter, “they’re right Spider.. we worry for you.. we can’t always be there to keep you safe” Ol stated brushing Parker’s curls from his forehead, “you know when you guys are like this it’s hard to see the tough, battle hardened fighters” Peter chuckled eyes gleaming at the attention he was getting from the pair of lovers even though beneath it all he feared that his own feelings towards the pair meant nothing in their own eyes. Laughter bubbles from the pair as they smiled down at the human they’d grown so fond of over the month of knowing him, “you’re just lucky to see us like this..” Ol muttered sincerely running his thumb along the shell of Peter’s ear, “he is right Peter, you’re the only one who sees us like this away from battle..” the hybrid Kree explained cautiously their grip on Peter’s hands tightened ever so slightly not going unnoticed by Peter as his vision switched between the two young Kree.

“When will you tell me about it.. you both are always talking about these fights that you’ve had but you never tell me what happened in them.. please tell me your stories” Peter begged them his voice at first seemed to fall on deafened ears, “no little spider.. not today” the eldest of the three said almost whispering his words. Peter squirmed at the name both hating and loving when the Kree boy called him ‘little spider’, “I’m not little, Estel is little” he mocked light heartedly changing the subject seeing how distressed the two had become at his own hand, “it’s not my fault I’m 5’5 besides I’m only an inch smaller than you Peter” they scowled playfully batting at the boy.

The pair continued to play fight along with the sounds of Ol’s laughter as he smiled at the pair in which he felt enthralled by. His eyes studied them thinking back to the moments his bright blue orbs had landed on the pair, one by chance the other in battle.

To him and Estel it seemed like only a few days ago they’d appeared on Ego, whisked him off into the galaxy to have adventures of their own, but since meeting Peter time seemed to slow as their minds and souls set out to claim the hybrid human as their own, a calm and stable third to their chaotic and battle ready duo. My loves.. his mind cooed yet stumbled over the word love.. what is love? What he and Estel had was an unbreakable bond formed over the years of traveling and bonding together, but what they felt not only for the each other but for Peter as well seemed stronger if not scarier than any Kree battalion in existence.

“Das't, my darling your head is in the stars again” he was dragged from his thoughts by the voice of his lovers face now in sight of his own as he glances round to see Parker sniggering from where he now sat crossed legged beside where Estella was now straddling him, their playing had ended and now sort out entertainment from him. “Watch your language my dear..” he chuckled press a quick peck to their forehead catching them off guard silencing both youngsters.

Peter frowned yet again finding another reason for his own self loathing.

How could he be so selfish to love two people who are so captivated by one another, he would be so cruel to do anything that could jeopardise their relationship. They evened each other out so well in the short amount of time that they had known one another, for him to come in and ruin it all would be a cruel act against two people most deserving of love.

“Mah little spider, Ye'v git yer heid in th' stars, tell us yer woes mah dear spider” the Scottish twinge from his time on earth before his families death became stronger in each word that he spoke as Ol wrapped an arm around Peter’s waist pulling him into his side as Estella latched onto him stroking his cheek soothingly as Ol rubbed his hand up and down Peter’s back in calming pattern. “It’s nothing” he whimpered feeling the sudden urge to cry as he was cradled in their arms. “Tell us mah dear spider, we care tae damn muckle aboot ye tae lea ye in sic a state” the words were stronger more forceful this time as Peter turned to hide his face in Ol’s chest hoping that some Norse or whatever god that was there might take pity on him, “Peter... Peter please listen to us.. we need to tell you something and we want you to hear what we have to say and no one else” Estella’s voice reached his ears, “I know that things are weird cause we’re not exactly human or anything and we may live long into the future which means that time will forever be against us but Peter.. me and Ol-Amm want to be with you..” the Kree hybrid has gone shy to the end seeming to lose herself in her worry filled rambles.

“Peter.. both Estella and I are children of war.. yes we both grew up different but at the same time we were still raised in a war that could never be won...” Ol began to explain shifting so that Peter had no choice but to look at the pair who stared earnestly at him. “Our views growing up on what love is weren’t the best, but over time we’ve come to understand that love is what makes you feel safe and wanted and... Peter that is what we feel when we’re with you.. you make us feel safe and warm and loved.. we just want you to know that we care very much about you and that whatever happens next is up to you.” Ol finished sending a side glance to his partner as they nodded opening their mouth to contribute, “Ol and I are like an angered wound and Peter you are a soothing balm to us.. you are the calm to our chaos and we are in love you for this feeling that you’ve shared with us” the young Kree tried to relay to their partner, “and we love you Peter Parker because you are you... you are kind and loyal to a fault.. we love you for being you..” they tried to convey in the best possible way.

The teen lay there almost cradled in their arms, his mind was blank as he search for some way to answer them both.

When the words formed his voice was soft and timid almost afraid that once spoken he could never take back what he was about to say.

“I really like you both too..”

No more words were exchanged that day, just silent reassurances as they held each other. None had a care towards what was to come, they had no care for the dangers they would soon face, the only care they had was with each other in that moment safe and sound inside the Parker residence.

[renee-writer]

Secrets We Keep Chapter 36 Role Playing

Very very explicit

She walks in and grins at him. "So you wish me to be your maid?"

"Aye." His voice already deep is deepened by his desire. He lays across the bed in naught but a pair of boxer shorts and his need is very obvious.

"As you wish." She picks up the French maid costume and walks into the loo. She feels his eyes on her the entire way. She pulls off her jeans, sweater, and underthings. She takes the tiny pumps out of the bag they were in and places one on each of her nipples and one on her clit. Not even on and the presence of them was turning her on more. She pulls on the white shirt and very short skirt over them. She smiles when she sees that her nipples and the toys are very visible. Well good. She takes her hair down from the ponytale it was in. She finger combs her curles out. Foregoing the heels that come with the outfit she grabs the oversized feather duster and walks out barefoot.

"Iffrin!" He calls out when he sees her. She walks over slowly and lowers the feather duster running it across his bare chest, teasing his erect nipples. She lowers it down to his legs running it up and down but not touching the part of him that thrubs for her.

"Christ Claire!"

"You are a very dirty boy. I must clean all of you." She replies as she runs it back up his arms under his arm causes him to actually giggle. The sound seems to startle them both. "Ticklish?"

"Aye. A bit."

"Roll over Jamie. And lose the shorts." He eagerly does though rolling over hurts a bit. He is very turned on. She runs the duster over his back, his shoulder, across his legs, and watches the shivers flow across his skin. His fingers cling the blanket and she wonders if he is holding himself back from touching her or himself. And then she reaches his bum. Across the wonderfully shaped gluteus maximus muscles, down the crack to the tight testes and very aroused penis.

"Now I think I need cleaning." She says, in a slightly unsteady voice. She hands him the duster and when he flips around, she gasps. She had seen him aroused numerous times but, nevee to the point she could see every vein in his member, can see his pulse. Keeping control is going to be harder then she thought.

"Come here Claire." He leads her to stand between his legs. She does and it takes all that is in her not to grab him and lead him between her legs. He runs the duster over her clothed body. She shudders, her nipples getting more erect as he focuses on them. "Is it the toy or are they?"

"Both. Why don't you take off my shirt and see." He starts to unbutton her shirt and both their breathing gets more labored. Finally he parts it. He touches the small pump.

"How does it work?"

"Just press the tip." He does and watches as the little machine does what his mouth does. Pulling and sucking. Claire groans and arches up so he turns on the other one. "Oh holy f*ck!" She cries out.

"Lay back." She does unable to hold herself up, anyway. He kneels between her legs. He spreads them and smiles when he sees the little pump there too. He knows activating it will drive her right over the edge, so he does.

"Jamie!" His name fills the room. He adds his fingers, curling them up and thrusting to the sucking. "I can't! It is to much. I am going to..."

"Cum like never before. Cum for me baby." She has no choice there. Her head falls back as her increasing loud keens burst out of her as she gets closer to her climactic climax. Jamie watches as her clit expands, as her vagina lengthens and soaks his hand, and as she once again squirts, soaking his hand, arm, and the bed. She screams until she losses her voice and falls limb on the bed. It is all he can take. He carefully removes the clit and nipple pumps, laying them to the side.

"Claire, I must.."

"Please. Fill me Jamie." He does and she jerks as her super sensitve clit makes contact with his very aroused cock. He moves gently knowing it is all she can take right now. His fingers and then lips explore her very enlongated nipples. She arches into him and he feels the tiny skirt that is still on her rub between them. He can't hold out much longer and works his hand down finding her clit.

"Please Jamie, I can't again." She pleads.

"You will because I love ye and have ye." Within seconds, she arches against him and cries out again. A few seconds later, he joins her.

"Next time we use them on you." It is ten minutes later and she finally has breath to speak.

"I dinna think it will fit." He picks up the clit one.

"No. Not even when he is at rest." Jamie's cock lays against his thigh very soft now. "But the nipple ones will."

"Oh aye." She wiggles out of the wrinkled skirt and curles against him. He covers them both. "Later. Let's lay our heids and rest now." They are both asleep within minutes.

[mybeautifuldecay]

Secret Santa Fic: Out Of Time: Part 2.

MERRY CHRISTMAS everyone. I hope you’re all sufficiently full and/or drunk. Thank you massively to @moghraidhjamie for organising this amazing fic-exchange. I’m loving it. Here’s another chapter for you @ladygloucester - it’s a slow burn fic, but they’re getting there.

Here’s to festivities and romance!

—————-

Part 2:

As it was, the moment Claire went to open her mouth - Ian and Murtagh came charging back into the camp from the dark beyond. Closing her mouth, she turned to face the tree, stoic in her stance. Letting the boisterous men fall into camp, Claire watched from the corner of her eye as Jamie rolled his eyes and turned back to his companions.

“Ye two took yer time!” He castigated, marching back over to them with a semi-stern look on his face.

“Weel,” the taller of the two returned, “Murtagh had too much fun running the soldiers around in circles, I amne sure who they’re looking for, but they willna find him the way we’ve sent ‘em!” He cheered, clapping his tired looking companion on the back.

“I think I may have solved that issue, Ian,” Jamie said, tilting his head in Claire’s direction.

Both men stopped and stared, their eyes boring holes in the side of Claire’s skull. She kept her chin level, her nose almost butting against the bark of the tree trunk as she tried not to make eye contact with the men.

“A lassie?” The other of the man, Murtagh, balked, his tone betraying his shock.

“Aye,” Jamie replied, “a lassie. A canty one at that I’d wager. Did ye learn anything from the redcoats?” He whispered, turning his back on Claire as if she wouldn’t hear him if he did. She had though and she smiled at his failed attempt at secrecy. Lucky for you, she thought, I’m not dangerous.

“Nay,” the taller one, Ian, promptly replied, “nothing at all. Just that they’d lost the trail and didna ken where they were. Though I’d wager that was partially down to us and no’ altogether to do wi’...her...getting the better of them.”

“I think I did quite well at outrunning them, thank you,” Claire interjected. Fed up of being ignored, she stomped her foot as she spoke. Not one to keep silent, she knew that she’d managed to fool the British enough for them to be travelling in completely the wrong direction when Ian and Murtagh had stumbled across them and she wasn’t about to let them take all the glory.

“Aye,” Murtagh said, his tone low and wary, “I should think ye did.”

Turning to Jamie, Murtagh faced away from Claire now, rubbing his beard in amusement at the situation. “And ye thought, Jamie lad, that tying her up was the best solution here?”

“Aye!” Jamie argued. “She could be a danger to Lallybroch. Da wouldn’t forgive me if I didna check afore letting her free. I canna see you thinking any differently Murtagh, eh?”

“I suppose not,” he chuntered, patting Jamie on the back before ushering him back towards the open fire.

For a long while the men sat with their dinner roasting, laughing loudly at one another's bawdy jokes. Claire smelt the delicious aroma of the game, her mouth watering at the mere smell of it. She hadn’t had a decent meal since her incarceration and the bread they were eating along with the deer looked mighty fresh. Her stomach gurgled uncomfortably as she shifted from foot to foot, her wrists aching with the pressure of being tied around the tree.

Leaning her head against the bark, she closed her eyes and tried to dispel the hunger. She knew Jamie didn’t trust her, she could see it written all over his face and she wasn’t about to beg for food. If they wanted to ask her more questions then they would in their own time. Claire hadn’t thought them cruel, and she was proved right when Jamie paced over to her, a plate of torn bread and game meat piled up ready.

“Are ye hungry, lass?” he asked, holding the plate close to her face as she eyed it with some interest.

“Y-yes,” she stuttered, not too proud to admit it.

“I thought so. They can hear yer belly raging all the way down in the valley,” he joked, smiling and tipping his head to the side.

“I’d wager,” Murtagh interrupted, coming up behind Jamie with his hand held solidly on his dirk, “that being imprisoned by British couldn't have been entirely pleasant for the lass. She isna going far,” he continued lowly, “wi’ the three of us watching. Untie her, aye?”

Nodding, Jamie passed the plate of food to the small hairy Scot and pulled his own dirk from its sheath. Holding her hands still, Claire waited patiently to be freed. Murtagh had been right of course, she wasn't going to try and run now. Not when there was companionship, warmth and food on offer.

Walking between Murtagh and Jamie, Claire marched over to the fire keeping her hands held in front of her. Jamie had completely removed the ropes but she expected that one wrong move, the sign of any soldiers or simply discontent on their part and she’d be trussed up once more.

Glancing behind her, she took stock of Jamie. He was a large man just as she remembered him quite capable of causing her harm should he wish, but even as he’d tied her to the tree, Jamie had been gentle almost reverent with how he’d treated her. Her initial instinct about him had been correct and even now, with the threat of Randall still hanging over her, Claire was glad she’d chosen to act how she had.

“Sit,” Jamie advised, pointing to a spare spot between himself and Ian. “Eat. But dinna get any daft ideas, Sassenach. Until I ken who ye are and how much of a danger you are, you’re staying close.”

Taking the full plate from his hands, Claire nodded voraciously as she began to tuck into the lush food that lay before her. Disregarding the idle gaze of the men surrounding her, Claire ate until she could eat no more, placing the empty wooden dish at her feet and wiping the stray crumbs from her skirts as she glanced into the roaring fire.

Jamie and his companions did the same, stoically ignoring Claire as they ate, drank and laughed. Ian continually passed his whisky to her though, keeping her stomach happy and warm whilst she toyed with the stray fibres on her corset. Her vision blurred a little as time went on, her head feeling incredibly heavy as her eyes closed and then opened at a slower rate.

Jamie, his attention captured by Murtagh’s funny tale about the soldiers lost in the woods, didn’t notice Claire again until her weight slumped against his side. Clearly she was drunk, Ian had been plying her with alcohol since she’d finished her meal and it hadn’t taken much for her to get squiffy. Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her close, allowing her to drift against him as she dozed.

“Ye’ve killed her, lad!” Murtagh joked to Ian, throwing him a fresh decanter full.

“Dinna be so soft, she’s just napping,” Ian returned a rather large smile plastered over his face as he took a swig. “You were the one saying she needed to be freed, and weel, I’ve given her a reason to relax!”

Looking down, Jamie chuckled to himself as he watched her eyelids flicker in the orange evening light.

“She’s a pretty one, aye?” Murtagh whispered to Jamie his beard twitching as he laughed lightly.

“Verra…” Jamie sighed, his fingers playing idly with the wisps of her hair as they flickered on the breeze. “What would the British want with her though?”

“I dinna ken, lad, but I’ve met captain Randall a time or two and you haveta be glad that you’ve steered well clear of him. He’s no’ a man to be messed with. If she’s been in his clutches for over a year then I’d hate to think what he’s put her through.”

“She claimed innocence to me, but she hasna come close to explaining herself.” Jamie mused. “She did say she’d saved my life...I dinna ken what to make of that.”

Murtagh’s brows drew together in confusion and Ian let his head fall to the left, an odd look on his face.

Claire felt an inexplicable warmth fill her as she curled closer to the source of the heat. She could hear some of their words, but they were muffled by sleep. Somehow, though, she knew they were talking about her. But the whisky running through her veins combined with the hot meal resting in her belly she couldn’t bring herself to care too much. Claire hadn’t lied to Jamie, but she had much to explain.

“Strange sassenach,” Murtagh muttered, “do ye think she’d fib to ye?”

Jamie shook his head. “Glass face, our Claire Beauchamp,” he quipped, revealing her name to Murtagh and Ian finally. “She thought about lying, I could tell, but then she opted for the truth - weel, a half truth anyway. Then ye pair of you great goofs,” he jested, prodding Ian in the arm across Claire’s back, “came out of the woods and interrupted us.”

“Shame I didna stop wi’ the drink earlier. Maybe the whisky would have loosened her tongue,” Ian added.

“Wi’ the way she was gazing at our Jamie,” Murtagh chuckled, “I dinna think it’ll be long before she spills her guts to him.”

Elbowing his godfather, Jamie slid his arms beneath Claire’s legs picking her up and holding the weight of her fully against him. “Dinna be sae daft, Murtagh, man. She’s looking and you two no different to me.”

“Yer a fool if you think that, Jamie,” Murtagh replied, his wee red face scrunching up in amusement and Jamie’s dismissal. “She’s pie eyed for you, lad.”

Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Jamie swivelled on his heel and turned his head so that he could look properly at Ian and Murtagh as he walked away. “She’s a stray sassenach with a wanted sign on her heid, ye wee fools. O’ course she’d be grateful, at least we arena trying to beat her or imprison her. It doesna mean she’s taken wi’ love for me does it. It just means she’s happy wi’ the rest for the moment.”

“Are you still thinking of sending her back to them then?” Ian asked, shocked.

Sighing, Jamie shrugged. “Dinna ken. I canna put Lallybroch at risk though, aye?”

“Yer da will ken what to do, Jamie,” Murtagh added, thinking of Brian and Jenny back home waiting for them to return. “The redcoats are miles away, and even if they come back, they wouldna be here that fast. By the time they reach us, we can have formed a plan. Whether we hand her over or no’, ken?”

Jamie had to agree. His father, although he’d passed the mantle over to Jamie in regards to Lallybroch and Broch Tuarach, was far wiser on these matters. Nodding over he grunted and turned, carrying a sleeping Claire into the bothy and away from Murtagh, Ian and the warmth of the fire.

Placing her delicately on the bed, Jamie pulled the sheets over Claire and tucked her beneath them. He had intended on going straight back outside again and continuing on with the celebrations. What he hadn’t counted on was Claire and her subtle cries. She had begun to keen the moment he’d left her, his touch had been keeping the nightmares at bay and the second she was alone she’d fallen under their spell once more.

“No…” she called out, fear raging through the word. Her knees had curled tightly up against her chest, causing the blankets to ruffle, leaving her feet now exposed to the air. He hadn’t noticed before, but she had no shoes on. Claire had travelled all the way from Fort William to Lallybroch barefoot.

Jamie reached out, his hand taking hers unconsciously as he knelt down beside her head. “What did they do to ye in there, Sassenach?” he whispered, his nose brushing against hers as if compelled to. She was a mystery, Claire; wanted by the British and yet she seemed truly relaxed in their presence.

“S’for you Jamie,” she sighed, her lips lightly grazing his as she shimmied forwards. Her eyes were still closed but her spine had uncurled itself somewhat with Jamie’s renewed touch.

“Dinna fash,” Jamie soothed, his fingers running patterns through her hair, “we’ll see ye safe,” he promised, his heart skipping a beat as he realised he’d just made a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep.

All words slipped from his mind as Claire tipped her head and moulded her lips to his, her tongue massaging his mouth carefully. He could tell that she wasn’t fully awake, but she’d somehow managed to summon the energy to lean up and kiss him. Unable to resist, Jamie opened his mouth, accepting Claire’s caress with renewed vigor.

Panting lightly, Claire blinked, glancing up at Jamie with an awed expression. Bringing her hand to her mouth she ran one finger over her kiss-bruised lips and battered the sleep away. “S-sorry…” she mumbled, her arms shaking as she shimmied backwards and pulled the blanket back over her shoulders.

“It’s alright, Claire,” Jamie whispered, bowing slightly as he headed for the door, his cheeks delightfully pink. “Sleep well, Sassenach…” he said before rushing back out into the clean air and his ever intoxicated brothers.

“Merry Christmas, Jamie...” Claire whispered as she heard the door close leaving her alone once more. She didn’t know the exact date anymore, so she couldn’t be sure that it was indeed Christmas but the words left her mouth without her express permission. “...and good night.”

[imagineclaireandjamie]

The Treasury

Joanie and Jamie come across the trunk of Claire’s gowns. 

by Mod Bonnie 

Thought of the Lallybroch attic always made Joan’s heart race wi’ panic, though she’d only set foot inside it the once. 

She and Mam and Da and Marsali had all been over for supper shortly after the weddin’, months back, and the big folk had kept talkin’ and talkin’ so late into the night like they’d never stop! Finally, she and Marsali had gotten so bored, they’d crept off to explore the house wi’ some of the other children, finding themselves at last up in the attic. The place was ghostly and drafty in the candlelight, and some of the boys had started tellin’ tales of spooks and ghouls and nuckelavees, sendin’ shivers down Joanie’s back. She’d nearly wet herself wi’ relief when the group all ran back down the steps into safety, giggling from the excitement of it. She’d giggled too, but never had she ever been so scairt in all her life. It had woken her, sometimes, the nightmares of bein’ trapped up there alone in the creaky darkness. 

Today, though, Da had held her hand as they went up the steps, and wi’ him beside her, the light of day shinin’ through the windows and cracks, Joan saw the place for what it was: a treasury, stacked all ‘round wi’ precious secret things just waitin’ to be discovered. She’d learnt that word in a book once, and always had loved the grand sound of it: the queen’s treasury.  

He and Mam had had a fight, that mornin’, a great stramash that had made all the rooms of the house echo. Joan had run out into the dooryard wi’ her hands over her ears. She hated when they did that: yelled at one another so. It was like havin’ Simon back in the house again. 

She bit her tongue the moment she’d thought such a thought, for Da wasna anything like Simon. Da never would beat them, and he was kind and funny— better than any man she’d ever met!  Well....for her and Marsali, at least. Mam didna seem to like him verra much. 

He’d stormed out of the door, startling her from where she sat. He’d gotten Baron saddled in a flash, and had just reined about to ride out to the road, when he’d spotted her. Though his face was red, still, from the yelling, he’d smiled at once, a real smile, and held out a hand. “Come wi’ me to Lallybroch, a leannan?” 

After takin’ tea wi’ Auntie Jenny and Uncle Ian, Da had wandered about through the house. It seemed he wasna in any rush to get back to Balriggan or Mam. Joan wasna either, if she were bein’ truthful. They’d been in the library, Da showin’ her this book and that, but then he took a notion after a particular book that he couldna seem to find on the shelves. And so, the two of them had ended up in the attic, rummagin’ to find a box of things from when Da was at university in Paris. 

“D’ye recall what sort of box it would be in, Da?” Joan asked, rubbing her nose, which was running from all the dust kicked up in the air. 

She didna take much heed of his answer, for just at that moment, she’d caught sight of a lovely, big trunk over in the corner by the window in the eaves. She made for it eagerly, catchin’ open the clasps and flippin’ open the lid. 

She gasped. TREASURE. 

“Joan? Are ye alright?” came Da’s voice at once. “Joanie, did ye hurt your—” 

“Da, LOOK!” she squealed as she lifted the item on the top: a gown as red and glistening as a jewel. The fabric was fine and rare, and Joanie knew for certain that this was the most grand thing she’d ever held in her two hands. She felt almost as though she were in kirk, such a thrill it brought over her. 

“Dinna touch those!” 

He was moving fast toward her and the look on his face made her spring up to her feet, jumping back. “I’m sorry,” she blurted, tears wellin’ up in her eyes at once. “I’m sorry, I willna touch it again— promise!” 

He didna say anythin’. He was crouched at the trunk, his eyes movin’ over the stuff inside in a crazed sort of way, as though he were afraid it would catch fire. That seemed to go on for long, long time, and Joan had to clamp her hands over her mouth to keep from burstin’ out into sobs. 

Please dinna hate me.... 

Then, he seemed to remember where he was. He looked up—were those tears in his eyes, too?— and his face went all soft, but sorry-like, as though he were ashamed. “Forgive me, Joanie,” he whispered, holding out his arms to her. “I shouldna have snapped at ye.” 

All trembly, her gullet tight and burnin’ from tryin’ not to cry, she took his hand and let him pull her into a hug that brought happiness all the way down to her toes. “I hadna seen those things in many years, and they gave me quite a turn...” His voice was scratchy as he said it. “But truly,” he whispered, planting a kiss at the top of her cap, “I’m sorry, lass. Can ye forgive me for it?” 

All felt right again as she nodded and hugged him back, sniffling into his shoulder and lettin’ herself be held, just for a while longer. 

“Where did these come from, Da?” she asked a bit later as she turned back toward the chest, curiosity too strong to ignore. “All of these gowns and fine things!” At his nod of permission, she gingerly picked up a pair of gloves, embroidered with golden thread. “I’ve never seen anything like it in all my life! Did a queen live here, once, then?” 

He laughed, and she gave him a stern “What?” for she hadn’t meant it as a jest. 

“Aye...she was a queen, of sorts.” He reached out a hand and traced his fingers across the crimson fabric, just like Joan had herself. His voice was very low and verra sad. “A lady who was verra special indeed.” He gently moved the red gown to the side to show the one beneath, and Joan heard him breathe out a wee smilin’ sound. 

“Why are they up here, though, Da?” she demanded, gingerly reachin’ out and strokin’ the lovely thing along wi’ him. It was greener than anythin’, even more than the grass in summer.  “Why does nobody wear them?”

“Can ye imagine your Auntie Jenny milking the goats in such a gown, then?” he said, laughin’ and makin’ her giggle too. “Nay, they’re from a different time, lass, before the Rising. No one’s quite the need of such finery anymore; not here, anyway.” 

“Oh.... that’s too bad.” Her heart was falling like stone. “They’re just so beautiful...” 

She’d always hoped that when she grew up, there would be beautiful gowns and pretty things. They werena necessary, she supposed, and it wasna so much that she cared overmuch for them herself, as Marsali did. But the notion had always been a secret dream in her mind: that even if things since the Rising —since before she was born—had been naught but hard and sad, someday there would be beautiful things in her life too. Hearing it from Da, now, that there was no place for them—it made her want to crawl into the chest and nestle in amongst the gowns and fall asleep among their beauty. She thought that their wonder would seep into her skin, that way, and keep forever in her dreams, if there they must stay. 

There was a tear on her cheek, then another, but Da was nudging her, eagerly. “Shall we see what they look like on another fine lady?” 

Before she could answer, he was standing her on her feet and movin’ across the room, comin’ back wi’ a wee looking glass, which he propped up against the lid of the trunk. 

“What, ME?” she squawked. “Try them ON?” 

“And why not? It’s no’ as though I’m a lady, aye?” 

She giggled.

“Here...”

Minutes later, she was sittin’ on Da’s lap, looking at her reflection and hardly believing her eyes. The golden gown was around her shoulders, puddled huge about her like a great pudding, a fine comb holding up her hair in place of the plain cap, and in her hand was the most beautiful fan she’d ever seen. It didna look like herself, in the glass. 

“Da, I canna wear this,” she said uneasily, trying to stand up and remove the gown. 

“But of course ye can,” he said at once, holding her firmly, and she could see his smile in the looking-glass as well as hear it in his voice.  

“But Marsali says,” she insisted, “I canna ever wear yellow, because of my hair. Red-heided lasses canna wear gold or yellow or pink or—” 

“Nonsense! They can wear whatever they like,” Da said. 

“Aye? Truly?” 

“I give ye my word upon it,” he said solemnly. 

“Oh....well....that’s good then,” she said, still nervous that Marsali would barge in and tease her. She sighed. “I wish I had hair like Mam and Marsali.” 

He snorted. “Well I dinna wish that.” 

That surprised her. “Do ye no’ think their hair is bonny?” 

“Oh, aye, it’s lovely... but red hair,” he said, runnin’ his fingers over the top of her head, “is my favorite.” 

“‘Cause you have it too?” she said, grinning. 

“Well, I’ve a longstanding personal partiality, to be sure,” he agreed with a grin as he let her tie a fine blue ribbon around his queue. “Besides,” he said, sounding dreamy as she finished the bow, “my own daug—” 

He stopped. 

“What, Da?” 

He stared at her for a moment, and she thought she’d never seen anyone with eyes so blue. “Only that your red hair is one of the things about ye that makes me happy, Joanie.” 

His voice was cracked and croakin’, and somethin’ in it made her lean forward and plant a kiss on his cheek. She felt his stubble tug against her lips as he smiled. 

“Besides—” He pulled her back onto his lap and tweaked the mirror so she could see the both of them in the glass. “Can ye no’ see for yourself how beautiful ye are?” 

And because he’d said it, she could. 

“What was her name?” she asked, her voice sounding like one in a dream, full of mystery, like the music of a priest’s prayer. 

“Her name?” 

“The queen-lady,” Joanie insisted. She had the the gowns and the fine things treasured up into her memory, now. All she needed was a name to finish the story in her mind. “What was she called?” 

“She...” 

Joanie watched his face as he tried to remember the tale. 

“Her name was Sorcha.” 

[laythornmuse]

Where We Begin: Chapter 11

Previous Chapter

Claire arrived at Lallybroch late Friday evening.   Jamie met her on the long dark driveway,  leading her vehicle past the main house to a small cottage set back from the main road.

Exiting the car, she barely took two steps before his arms enveloped her into his coat, and his mouth dropped to possess hers.

“How was the drive?” He spoke against her lips.  “Are you never coming up here again?”

“It was only two hours, Jamie,” she muttered back, a smile forming as she leaned in for another kiss.  “I’ve driven far worse roads with less attractive men at the end of them.”

“Och, a prize, am I?” He teased, taking her bag from her as he pulled her along the path to the house.

“Motivation, I’d say. That and a warm bed,” she squeezed his hand as she looked up at the house with its rich smelling, log fire hearth. He grinned as he opened the door for her,  his eyes moving over her lithe form before his hands found their way back to her hips. 

“I know I was just with you this morning,” he spoke softly to her, his hands  holding her in the dark foyer of the cottage, “but I feel like I’ve longed for you to be here, with me, for an age.” 

“I love it already.  Being here with you…” she smiled into the dark, and found his lips again. 

She peeled away her coat and his until they stood in their clothes, limbs twined around one another, their mouths gently claiming one another in a sweet and tender dance. They would have continued on, had a yawn not rattled her body and given her away.

“Tired, aye?” 

“Well, it's certainly not your kisses putting me to sleep.”

Jamie chuckled and kissed her once more before leading her up the stairs to their bedroom, where a fire was well tended in the hearth and the sheets were already turned down. The room was decorated in a primitive style, harkening back to the estate's 18th-century roots. Across the chair by the window was a beautiful red tartan,  the Fraser colors from what she knew, that completed the room’s charm. 

“Would you like to shower…”

“No, I showered before I drove up, just in case ‘rustic’ meant camping bathrooms.” She said with a chuckle as he kissed her forehead.

“Well, good. I’m about ready to fall over and I don’t plan on sleeping without ye,” Jamie said, patting her gently on her rump. “I’ll show ye the grounds and gardens in the morning, and then you can meet Donas and Losgann.”

“Is Donas the biter?”

Jamie smiled as he pulled his sweater off. “Aye. That’s him.”

“Mmhmm.” Claire muttered, peeling off her layers just as quickly to slip under the sheets.  They were cool against her naked skin and the sensation made her shiver.

“Cold?” Jamie murmured, as he slid under the sheets as well. They both wordlessly moved towards the center of the bed, where they pressed against one another, transferring heat, touches, and kisses.

“Not anymore,” Claire murmured against his chest.  Curled into one another, and tucked in the fire-warmed feather down, their soft words quieted as they drifted off in each other's arms.

The slamming door felt like it shook the entire cottage, yet it was the pounding steps on the stairs that launched Jamie out of bed and into his clothes.

“JAMES. FRASER.”

Claire’s head popped up, eying Jamie’s half-naked form as he scrambled into his jeans. His pants buttoned, he opened the door and met Jenny Murray before she had a chance to storm into their room.

“Yes, Jenny?” Claire heard his muffled greeting as he closed the door behind him.

A silence followed, and Claire’s eyebrow crept up her face as Jenny’s voice punctuated the morning air. She decided promptness was the best solution and dressed in a pair of leggings and a long sweater.

“Breakfast is getting cold, and I don’t plan on eating without you both,” Jenny stated softly as Claire appeared on the landing.

“That sounds lovely.  Thank you for having me, Jenny.”

“Of course, Claire,” Jenny said and then turned back to her brother, frowning. “Well, put on a shirt you clot-heid.” Jenny tsked and started down the stairs.

Claire bit her bottom lip to keep a grin from splitting her face in half.

“Mmhmm.” Jamie muttered but returned in under a minute fully dressed. He wrapped his arm around her waist as they took the stairs.

“Did you sleep well?” He murmured in her ear.

“I always sleep well next to you,” she answered, kissing his cheek.

He smiled and hummed pulling her closer to his side and they walked out of their cottage towards the main house.  The crisp fall air carried the smell of bacon, yeasty rolls, and eggs. Claire’s mouth watered immediately, but even the heavenly scent of breakfast couldn’t distract her from the rolling hills and the nearby fields of lilac and heather.

“Oh Jamie, it’s so lovely here,” she whispered to him, squeezing his hand.

“It gets better if you can imagine,” he spoke to her curls. Ten feet from the house two small children stumbled down the front steps, both climbing over the other as they scrambled to their feet.

“Uncle Jamie!” The small boy called as he ran straight into Jamie’s arms.  Jamie tucked him under his arm while he leaned down to his three-year-old niece and circled his free arm around her, lifting her to his hip.

“I told ye to be more gentle with your sister, ye gomeral,” Jamie jostled the boy gently before putting him back on his feet.  

“This troublemaker is young Jamie, my nephew. Jamie, this is Claire, a special friend of mine.”

The young boy blushed and smiled widely,  his uncle’s smile, Claire noted. “Hi. I can show you the horses later. I know all their names.”

“Aye, that’d be verra helpful lad,” Jamie added with a smile.

“Nunkie,” Maggie said softly, her small hands gently folding into Jamie’s hair.

Jamie kissed Maggie’s cheek. “And this is Maggie.”

“Hello Maggie,” Claire cooed, and Maggie’s hands instantly gravitated to Claire’s hair.

“Pretty.” She said in awe, and Jamie chuckled.  

“Aye, Maggie. I couldn’t agree more.” 

Claire blushed but before she could reply, Jenny appeared at the door, taking in her brother and children.  She rolled her eyes and huffed. “You’ll all be the death of me.  In the house for some food, now, all of ye.”

John sat at the long dining table, his fork shoving eggs into his mouth as Ian read him a story from the newspaper. Upon seeing Claire, John stood, and hastily stepped around the table, avoiding the dog and young Jamie running into his shins. 

“You must be Claire,” John declared, a grin dancing across his face as he took in her windswept look and her easy smile.

“Yes! And who are you then?” She said, taking his hand as he guided her to a seat.

“I, good woman, am the adopted brother, that you’ve no doubt heard nothing about because…”

“John then,” Claire replied, grinning. “I trust you're friendlier than your niece?”

John’s face morphed through several expressions before he chuckled, and to Claire’s delight, blushed. “I’m humbled if you find me so, Claire.”

“She already disarmed you, John?” Jamie asked through the bannock in his mouth. He took a seat on Claire’s other side and reached for the plate of sausage. “Honestly, I expected more from you.”

“I’m only on my first cup of…”

“Oh, coffee!” Claire exalted as Jamie poured her a cup. “I can’t fault you there. I’m not allowed near my scalpels until cup two.”

“Jamie mentioned you were in your residency. A surgeon then?”

“If all goes well, ” Claire smiled, sipping from her cup. “I should finish my certifications by January.”

“A hell of an accomplishment that’s for sure,” John replied, raising his brows at Jamie. “Much more prestigious than an MBA.”

“Be nice, now,” Jamie muttered to his forkful of sausage.  “We can’t all have law degrees, John.”

Claire smiled. “And Jenny the artist.  She must have hated listening to you all.”

“Actually, I didn’t mind it much.” Jenny chimed in, as she slid into her chair. “I can block out most of their prattle when it suits me.” She cast a grin at Ian who leaned in for a kiss.

“What do you make of our humble home then, Claire?” Jenny asked, eying her over her mug.

“I’d hardly call it humble,” Claire chuckled.  “It’s quite grand in fact, even in the dark. I can’t wait to see more of it.”

“You’ll be tired of the hills and horses by noon,” John muttered and Ian laughed.

“Because you’re tired of it, aye?” Jamie replied quirking a brow at him. “And that’s why you're here today as well?”

“I’m here to watch you make an ass of yourself on that horse.  I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

“Donas did wonderful yesterday,” Jamie said evenly.

“By wonderful, you mean he only threw you once,” Ian piped in,  looking at Jamie over his paper. “Or did you forget about that?”

John winked at Claire.  “Has he told you about the demonic beast yet?”

Claire's eyes flicked to Jamie who stared intently into his mug. She looked back to John and took a long sip.

“I saw the bite mark.  Is there more to that story?”

“Just Jamie shouting at a crazed horse and praying to God the thing didn’t run him over like…”

“That’s quite enough coffee for you,” Jamie muttered, pulling the carafe away from John. “And he wasna crazed.  Just scared.”

“Same different when it's a 500-kilo animal,” John growled,  his eye flickering to Jenny who just rolled hers heavenward. 

“I gave up this argument years ago, John.  Maybe Claire can talk some sense into him,” Jenny snickered, passing rolls to Claire.

“She’s no’ God, Janet,” Jamie grumbled,  his hand slipping to Claire’s thigh under the table. 

Claire furrowed her brows at him. “It’d take God to keep you away from a dangerous horse?”

“Nah,” Jamie grinned, giving her thigh a squeeze. “But it’d take God’s intervention for me to give up on one.”

Master List

[dumpsiteforfics]

Magician Heid AU

Okay but imagine magician Spencer. He is that well known magician and has done shows all over. And it's Jack's birthday and Aaron wants the best for his 4 year old! So Penelope is in charge and somehow she gets in touch with Spencer Reid and he agrees to perform at that small kids party, even without any payment because he has read the foyet case and knows it will be something good for kid who has been through a lot!!!

And at party jack is over the moon! He hasn't giggles so much and so freely for so long. And Aaron just can't believe that this tall, pale and handsome ( gorgeous) man with a practiced sleigh of hand can make his kid so happy!!

But he does and Jack is so impressed he asks his dad to get Spencer's number because he is going to need training to learn magic like that!!! And so Aaron tries to ask for a number cooly, but he keeps getting distracted with those hazel eyes and Spencer just smiles at him! He leans in, places a soft kiss on the stubbled cheek of Aaron and whispers as he pulls away, "My card is in your chest pocket, and I wouldn't mind if you need some lessons along with jack! I promise I could blow your mind with completely different magic! " And with a seductive smile, he leaves.

And well, Aaron takes him to his words and after few months they go on their first date which turns into few more months spent dating as much as they can! And it's Spencer who proposes Aaron one night after few years as they are just cuddling in the bed, Spencer just humming thoughtfully before saying, "Baby, you have something in your ear, let me see!"

Aaron half expects a lube because that has happened multiple times but this time, it's a ring, and then he is on his back with Spencer straddling him, ring in his hands and his face serious, "I'm supposed to be a magician but it was you and Jack who gave me so many magical moments in my life! You gave me family and now, I want this magic to last with me forever! So Aaron Hotchner, will you marry me and keep magic alive in my life forever?"

Aand Aaron just nods, eyes filled with tears as he thrusts his hand in Spencer's direction, "You are so stupid and I love it! How can you even think I'll ever deny you anything? Now stop gawking and put that damn ring on my finger, and I really hope it's not some prank or so help me god I'll spank you so hard not even magic can make you sit!"

And Spencer giggles, and Aaron laughs but they crying too and the ring finally sits on Aaron's finger and after one last look at it, he pulls Spencer close into a kiss which is nothing short of magical!!