#oh and Galavant

[space-mermaid-writing]

Favourite show?

My all time favorite are Psych and Taskmaster (and Taskmaster New Zealand). Star Trek (TOS) will always have special place in my heart.

Currently I watch Merlin BBC for the first time and it's great. Merlin and Arthur share 1 brain cell and it never stays with the one relevant to the plot.

[xroub]

Galavant 1.02 | Joust Friends

[july-19th-club]

giggling and kicking my feet and prancing into my armchair to watch this annoying guy do embarrassing things on my tv show with his hot friend . and also Tim is there

[johnslittlespoon]

callum is in my city as we speak. filming until july. what if i actually end it all right here right now i'm so srs

[alcairsei]

the biggest plot twist in galavant, which they only reveal in the finale, is that galavant is actually his last name and not his first name, which is gary

[lakecoded]

wait okay my lady jane is very fun so far

[autistic-britta-perry]

bitches will see any character that hates having emotions or is said not to have them and go 'is anyone gonna project into them' and not wait for the answer

[justablah56]

mm .. thinking about rewatching Galavant ..

[pendragonsclotpole]

Lord Crawley on Galavant was not what I was expecting.

[andrea-lyn]

on my wip list, I have this little section at the bottom with fic ideas that are just ideas and I think it’s adorable that I think they’ll stay that way and not become things I actually write

[comixandco]

i’m so mad at myself about the two echoes i missed

i had to look them up but i didn’t need to look them up because i looked at them. multiple times. in game. and thought ‘oh those should be echoable but i guess there’s no way to defeat them because they’re enemies you’re supposed to avoid 🤷’ AND WALKED AWAY! MULTIPLE TIMES!

[smiletimeisrunningout]

while shipping is my favorite thing ever, I have to say, there are certain fandoms where I feel like Emma COULD be part of the family, I built the backstory knowing this and in some I even added background interactions with other canon muses so it'd feel more real, than I'd be enthusiastic to write her platonically close to people there because I'd want to make her and the canon characters grow through their friendship?? it's hard to explain because yeah, I'm usually a shipper, but when it comes to some of my fave shows (not all, just the ones where I feel she can truly belong and click) she's part of the fam, you know?

[manchblack]

you know i don't even really know what this actually says about me but you know what this post DID make me realize. i haven't talked about how much i love galavant on here yet and that's a crime.

tags! @redstuffs-ig @nottapossum @xdeadxxeyes @craycray-wolf @teddygrxhams @its-just-q @just-a-little-unionoid @letsunity (no pressure if you don't want to do it!)

Making a tag game cause I can

Rules: post 4 fictional characters you relate to and assume something about the person you reblogged from based on their characters

No pressure tag! @sidneyoftheblackwoods @mqstermindswift @stars-and-birds @zenilvar @forever-chained-to-myself @themidnightarcher @skeelly @thepencilsnameissteve @thislove-taylorsversion @thislifeissweeterthanfiction @swiftieannah @a-pessimistic-swiftie @catastrxblues @jellycanon @what-about-wendy and anyone else who wants to join<3

[officialjanetweiss]

Up until the last couple days I was feeling so off since I got back from TO and I think it’s because for the first time in two years I’m not coming back from a vacation and diving straight into school.

[imaginesig]

Left my heart in SoCal

Arthur Leclerc x Surfer!reader

What happens when you add surfer + racer?? Oh and Danny Ricc is there too

Doesnt line up with reality, whoops

yourusername

liked by outerknown, bff_username, user5, and 374,839 others

yourusername: Outerknown not only has my back for the summer, but warm SoCal winters as well #sponsored

tagged outerknown

outerknown stunning!!

yourusername 🫶☀️

user1 girl as much as I wanna shop this collection I cannot afford

user2 fr fr

bff_username get that bank girlie!!

yourusername gotta afford competition somehow

user3 ugh she's drop dead gorgeous

user4 loml

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yourusername

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yourusername: quick solo trip to the Netherlands before winter 🇳🇱 let's all thank the nice stranger who offered to take my photo at the beach and didn't kidnap me

tagged: no one

bff_username you had me stressing on the phone

yourusername thats why I didn't tell you til after

user1 LMAO GIRLIE YOU'RE IN A FOREIGN PLACE ALONE AND LET A STRANGER NOT ONLY TAKE YOUR PHONE (where they could've easily run away with it) BUT ALSO TURN YOUR BACK

yourusername he had a cute French accent it was fine

bff_username Y/N NO

user2 omg did you go to the GP??

user3 imagine if she was ever a celebrity guest

user4 I'd cry but also the chances an American surfer (despite the fact she's pro) is on F1's radar

user5 why am I not surprised that you went to another country entirely and still managed to find and post a beach

youusername 🤭

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arthurleclerc posted a story!

caption: 📍 Zandvoort

yourusername

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yourusername: California Christmas, 1954

tagged: bff_username

bff_username our apartment has never looked better

yourusername ugh the laughter from our party still echos!!

user1 I love that you guys went with retro aesthtic

user2 im in love with the tinsel tree!!!

user3 it still throws me off every time you post and there's no snow

user4 am I seeing that right?? Arthur leclerc in the likes??

Charles_leclerc @/maxverstappen1 @/carlossainz55 @/lorenzotl this is her I'm sure of it

maxverstappen1 everything else checks out

carlossainz55 updating the gc right now

yourusername oh hello! can I help you?

Charles_leclerc check your dms

lorenzotl please

user5 lmao who are these guys?? Y/n blink twice if you need help

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arthur_leclerc

liked by yourusername, user45, lorenzotl

Arthur_leclerc: Joyeux Noël🎄

tagged: Charles_leclerc, lorenzotl

lorenzotl I See you were in the sprit of family Arthur

Charles_leclerc so glad to know our short time together was spent disappearing for a girl

Arthur_leclerc so dramatic, both of you!!

user1 not Arthur soft launching

user2 awww baby Charles and Arthur

user3 what are the possibilities its that surfer user was talking about on twitter

user4 what?

user5 who?

user6 OMG WHAT IF???

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yourusername I could get used to this ✈️🇦🇺🇲🇨

tagged danielriccardo

visacashapprb what a social offseason!!

yourusername give me a seat next year 🙏

visacashapp only if you teach me to surf

user1 soft launch??

user6 how do you know Danny ricc??

yourusername I have connections

user2 maybe we were wrong and somethings happening with Daniel and not Arthur

user5 but she put Australia and Monaco

danielriccardo hope the Aussie oceans didn't disappoint 🤙

yourusername never ever!! 🤙

bff_username no you don't get to get used to this- stop galavanting across the world with drivers and come home!! The kids miss you!!

yourusername otw 🏃‍♀️💨

user3 drivers?? as in plural?? this soft launch is getting more and more confusing as we go

user4 girlies has a busy off season

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yourusername

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yourusername: back to Cali and I'm proud to announce my newest sponsor Sex Wax!! My favorite brand for keeping my board grippy 🫶🤙

tagged: sexwax

sexwax lookin bitchin'

yourusername 🤭🤭

Arthur_leclerc 😳🥵

yourusername 💋💋

Charles_leclerc Arthur Leclerc.

yourusername oop

user1 what is happening

user2 im so confused

user3 right girlie we need clear signs as to who you're dating

user3 my timeline has been blessed

bff_username well hey there

yourusername heyyyyyyyy

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Arthur_leclerc

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Arthur_leclerc: Left my heart in SoCal 🩷

tagged: no one

yourusername bit obvious no??

Arthur_leclerc I was sick of assumptions 🤷‍♂️

user1 Arthur said Daniel?? Really??

user2 ok soft (hard) launch

user3 no way ive officially lost Arthur

Charles_leclerc glad to see its been a nice trip

Arthur_leclerc bringing you back a seashell

user4 LMAO WHAT

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yourusername

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yourusername: preseasons going great!!

tagged no one

Arthur_leclerc "bit obvious no??"

yourusername dont make me delete this Leclerc

user1 OMG OMG STOP

user2 you're telling me this actually went somewhere

bff_username still not happy you trusted him in a foreign country alone

yourusername but the accent ☺️

user3 after todays results I can't wait for how the first competitions gonna go

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yourusername

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yourusername Ferrari is my red flag

tagged: Arthur_leclerc

Arthur_leclerc im very much a green flag thank you

yourusername that jealousy streak says otherwise but ok...

Arthur_leclerc doest exist

user1 Y/N IN THE PADDOCK!!!!!

bff_user bring me home a hot driver

yourusername yes ma'am 🫡🫡

user2 ditto

user3 not Arthur roping her into a lifetime of disappointment and false hope

user4 Forza Ferrari ✊😔

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Arthur_leclerc

liked by yourusername, user3, danielriccardo, and 839,938 others

Arthur_leclerc: no need for Red Bulls of any form here

tagged: Charles_leclerc, yourusername

danielriccardo "and I was like what he'd say fuck me for"

user1 lmao Arthur said "fuck the rumors"

yourusername "doesn't exist" my ass

Arthur_leclerc 🙄

user2 the matching jackets 😭

user3 as a long time Y/n fan, its been nice to see how their relationship has brought her out of her shell and out of the small bubble that is SoCal

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yourusername: I love you more than a California sunset 💛

tagged: Arthur_leclerc

bff_username more than a cali sunset?? what spell are you under

bff_username @/Arthur_leclerc I need to know your secret

Arthur_leclerc 🤫

user1 not her teaching him to surf 😭😭

scudaraferrari please keep out driver safe!!

yourusername always admin 🫶

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Arthur_leclerc

liked by user4, yourusername, Lorenzotl, and 803,938 others

Arthur_leclerc: I take my job as a wag very seriously

tagged: yourusername

yourusername and what a wonderful job you've do!!

Arthur_leclerc ❤️❤️

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yourusername

liked by bff_username, user89, Arthur_leclerc, and 837,847 others

yourusername: my good luck charm has brought me so much support, confidence, and many wins!! I'm so sad I have to give him back to @/scuderiaferrari. Arthur, je t'aime

tagged: Arthur_leclerc

Arthur_leclerc Je t'aime aussi

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[chaosbarelycontained]

The English Captain

Pairing: John Price x f!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, 18+, sexual content, 2nd person, no use of y/n

Words: 5.3k

Synopsis: Life is hard in the Scottish Highlands in the 1740s. When your brother, Johnny, returns after a long absence with not one but three hated Englishmen with him your relief quickly turns to fury. You couldn’t have predicted how effortlessly they would fit into your lives, particularly the handsome Captain…

(puthair = sister, mo cridhe = my heart)

Hoisting the laundry basket onto your hip, you made your way out into the courtyard, rocking slightly to compensate for the extra weight. You may have been lady of the house but in the wild, unforgiving beauty of the Highlands, everyone pulled their weight. You weren’t one for sitting idle and, with your older brother vanished for nigh on two years now, you’d had to make sure that your land and people were well taken care of. Times were hard but you MacTavishes were made of sterner stuff.

There were already a row of sheets and blankets on the line, swaying gently in the fresh breeze. You dumped your burden on the floor at one end of the courtyard and bent to retrieve a chemise from the top of the basket but as you rose a figure caught your eye, standing at the gate in the back wall. You straightened, your brain not able to process what your eyes were telling you to be true. Sheets wafted in front of you, blocking your view, and you cursed, batting them out of the way with your hand. They tangled around your wrist and arm and you yanked hard, almost dislodging them from the line in your frustration. Finally you were freed and you whipped up your head to confirm what you thought must be your imagination, but no. Your eyes did not play tricks on you. There he stood, boyish grin causing the bright, cornflower blue of his eyes to twinkle.

“Johnny,” you whispered in disbelief before taking off across the courtyard and launching yourself into your brother’s arms.

His deep, joyful chuckles resonated in his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up into the air, twirling you once before setting you back down onto the cobbled floor. You stepped back an inch or two, eyes raking over his tall frame - leaner now than when you last saw him. He sported an impressive growth of stubble which did little to hide the angry red scar that traced from his ear and along his jaw and it was the sight of it that reminded you of why he left.

Anger rose quick and hot within you and you pulled back your hand and gave him such a smack across his cheek that it echoed across the courtyard, bouncing off the grey stone walls of your family home. His head whipped to the side and he gripped his jaw, wiggling it back and forth a little, but he snorted out another laugh as he looked at you fondly. You stood before him, five and a half feet of unbridled fury, with your hands fisted on your hips in an effort not to hit him again.

“It’s good to see you too, puthair,” he chortled, reaching out to ruffle your hair but you smacked his hand away with huff.

“Two years, John MacTavish. Two years since you went off galavanting, looking for a fight, and narry a word since. And then you turn up again with all your smiles and laughter as if you’d never been away?” You leaned forward slightly, your finger jabbing in his chest to emphasise your anger. “Don’t think for one moment that you’re getting the laird’s chamber back from me, you can sleep in the damn stables for all I care - you smell like you belong there anyway!”

“Definitely a MacTavish,” came a voice from beyond the gate. An English voice.

“Oh, absolutely,” sounded a second, and there was a hum of agreement from yet another.

Your hand went to the small knife that hung from your belt as your eyes darted agitatedly to Johnny and then to the wall, as if trying to see through the stones. Your brother held up his hand placatingly, although he began to look a little sheepish.

“Before you start raising merry hell, puthair, just listen,” he began, in the tone you had long known to associate with some form of mischief.

You crossed your arms over your chest and raised your eyebrow scornfully, waiting for what would surely be one of your brother’s most colourful tales. Before he spoke he called over his shoulder, inviting the owners of the voices to step into the courtyard.

“Ach, you need back-up for this, aye?” You sniffed, resting your weight on one hip and tapping your foot impatiently.

“These men are the best I’ve ever met,” Johnny said confidently. “I would not be back here now if it weren’t for them. At the least I owe them my hospitality. Gentlemen, may I present my sister, Mistress Galbraith.”

You bobbed down automatically, the politics of being lady of the house winning the battle with your anger and frustration, but the sound of that name caused a pang of grief to well up inside you. It passed over your face like a dark cloud and of course your sharp-eyed brother noticed.

“Where is Angus?” He asked. “Is he away to the village? We did not pass him on the road.

“Angus is…gone,” you said, your chin raised in defiant strength against your grief. “He passed from a fever not two months after you left, Johnny.”

“Ach, no,” he responded sadly, wiping his hand down his face. “I am so sorry. He was a good man.”

“Aye, that he was,” you agreed, “and he didn’t shirk on his duty to our land and people. He treated them with a fair hand.”

Johnny had enough good grace to look embarrassed; he had never planned to be away so long, or for his now-deceased brother-in-law to pick up so much slack.

“We are sorry for your loss, Mistress Galbraith. I see that our arrival here is inopportune. My men and I will take our leave and find alternate lodgings elsewhere. We do not wish to cause any problems.” There was a rich timbre and genuine emotion to the words and you found yourself being drawn to the speaker.

He was tall, a couple of inches taller than your brother, and bore himself proudly. A beard graced his cheeks, with a fuller moustache, and he had kind eyes beneath his dark felted cap. You took in more of his countenance but hissed at the sight of the battered and torn coat that he wore, the redness of it showing distinctly through the grime of the road.

“You’re not just bringing Englishmen to my door, John MacTavish, you’re bringing red coats? Have you lost your mind? What if the militia pass by, hmm? Do you want us all to hang?”

“Puthair, I owe these men my life a hundred times over. I could do no less than offer them place to stay and the food off my table.”

“Your table? It’s yours now, is it? Fine,” you spat, turning on your heel and stalking off across the courtyard.

Halfway to the house you halted, having heard no indication of anyone following.

“Well?” You snapped over your shoulder. “Do you want feeding or not?” With a jerk of your head towards the house you resumed your journey, a hidden smirk on your face at the sounds of four men scrabbling to follow along behind you.

Hums and mumbles of appreciation spilled from hungry lips at the food you’d set before them in the kitchen. It wasn’t great fare at such a lack of notice - cold meats, cheese, and hunks of bread - but the men acted as if it were the first proper meal they’d had in weeks. As you looked more closely at them you began to suspect that was not too far from the truth.

Through mouthfuls of bread and ale, Johnny began to introduce the men proper. There was Sergeant Garrick, Lieutenant Riley, and then their red-coated Captain, John Price. He humbly scoffed away Johnny’s attempts at explaining their escapades, saying that your brother had a talent for over-embellishing a tale. Whilst you knew the latter to be a common occurrence, there was something in Johnny’s eyes that spoke the truth. These Englishmen had risked their lives to rescue your brother from Fort William and you were grateful enough not to question their reasons for turning coat on their own army.

“Alright then, gentlemen, you may as well stay,” you sighed, as if it were the world’s greatest burden. “We have rooms enough but you’ll work for your keep, mind.” You waved your bread knife at them but your amicable threat was dulled by the blush that rose in your cheeks at the sight of the Captain’s grateful smile.

One night turned into two, and then more, and the three Englishmen became a common sight around the house and its grounds. They were with Johnny more often than not, helping out wherever it was needed, and you began to appreciate the hum of conversation and low chuckles of laughter. Your home had been too quiet for too long.

Having had the burden of clearing the supper table taken from you by the often-brooding Lieutenant Riley, you found yourself alone in your small parlour, relishing the quiet of the evening. You selected a book from the small collection that had once belonged to your grandfather, the leather-binding soft with age, and settled yourself onto one of the comfortable, overstuffed couches. You read with a rare self-indulgence, taking sips of whisky from the glass you had poured, and sighed deeply in satisfaction. Your little haven of calm was not to be such for long, however, and you rose to your feet, book in hand, when the door opened and a figure stepped inside.

“Oh, I beg your pardon, Madam,” the Captain said, quietly apologetic. “I thought the room empty.”

“You are not intruding, Captain,” you replied. “I was merely reading.”

“Milton, I see?” He asked.

“Aye, not bad…for an Englishman,” you replied with a teasing tone to your voice and Price responded with a gentle, self-deprecating smile.

“It must not be easy for you, having us here.”

“I find I have grown surprisingly accustomed to the company,” you said. “This house has been quiet for too long.” You did not mean to taint your words with sadness but the astute Captain noticed regardless.

“Still,” he said, “three foreigners do not make for the ideal houseguests. I will take my leave and allow you your peace.” He placed his hand on his chest and bowed then, about to turn and leave.

“You…you may stay, if you wish,” you rushed out, making him pause. “It seems you know this book and it would be nice to have someone to discourse with. There is whisky in the cabinet too, Captain, if you would care for a dram?”

Price looked at you for a moment, as if he were searching for something, and then nodded brusquely, pouring himself a glass of Ferintosh. He took a seat at the other end of the couch that you occupied, angled to face you, and sipped from his glass with an appreciative hum.

“Considering recent events, I do not think I am able to wear the mantle of Captain,” he said with a wry smile.

“I may not care for the English,” you begin, your answering smile taking the sting from your words, “but I know that titles must be earned. No-one can take that from you.”

“Officially they can,” he said, taking another sip.

“A man should always be measured by his deeds, Captain. You brought my brother back and to me that is worth more than even the King could bestow. Now, tell me your thoughts on Paradise Lost.”

You talked long into the night, finding yourself entranced by the opinions and ideas of the English Captain. What began as an unexpected interruption continued into evenings of enjoyable companionship that you found yourself yearning for at the end of a long day running the house. At times you were joined by one or more of the other men but John Price became your constant.

Things had fallen into such a peaceful routine that the MacTavish household grew complacent and it was the panicked arrival of Rabbie, the stable boy, as you ate luncheon with your brother and his friends that sent you all into a frenzy.

“Mistress, the militia, they are…they are coming!” He wheezed, having run at full speed from the other side of the valley.

The four of you leapt from your seats and looked at each other in distress. If the militia found the Englishmen here they would be hanged and more likely you and Johnny alongside them.

“How long?” You snapped, your anxiousness making your tone sharp.

“A quarter hour, perhaps less,” Rabbie panted, bending over with his hands on his knees.

“Take a breath, lad, you did well,” Johnny reassured, patting him on the back.

You rested your fists on your hips and cast about for inspiration, chewing your bottom lip.

“We could ride…” Garrick began but you cut him off with a glance.

“There’s not enough time to saddle the horses. You’d be seen,” you said, and your brother nodded his agreement.

“Johnny,” you said, voice cracking like a whip. “Take the Lieutenant out to the water meadow. Put smocks on and from a distance you’ll pass as farmers. They’ll likely ride on by. I’ll hide the other two here and pray the thieving bastards only raid the kitchen.”

Your brother nodded, managing a laugh at your profanity despite the situation, and led the Lieutenant out of the back gate. You looked at the two remaining men, who seemed rather ready to fight, and tilted your head towards the back stairs. Without another word you guided them up towards the second floor. Reaching a specific point in the hallway you pressed on a section of panelling which moved aside to reveal a narrow stone alcove.

“Sergeant, if you would be so kind as to secrete yourself in here?” You asked, barely waiting for him to enter before you closed the panel behind him.

Despite the size of the house there were not many spaces large enough to accommodate even one burly soldier, let alone two. You paced the corridor, wracking your brain for a place to hide the Captain that you had grown so fond of. The clatter of hooves became louder as the men of the militia drew closer and your pacing became even more frantic, panic brewing at the thought of him being discovered above all others. A hand on your wrist stopped you in your tracks and you stared up into Price’s concerned blue gaze. He held his belt knife in his hand as he pulled you closer to him.

“I will not let them harm you,” he grated, his jaw set and determined.

Your breath caught in your throat and your heart began to pound with something other than fear. Your skin burned at the gentle hold around your wrist and you placed a hand against his strong chest.

“Let us hope it will not come to that,” you whispered. “I have an idea.”

Pushing him backwards into your chambers, you latched the door behind you and toed off your boots.

“What-?” Price began but you shook your head.

“Hurry now, get out of your outer clothes and climb under the covers,” you urged, turning your back to him.

A pounding on the large oak doors echoed through the house and you hurriedly divested yourself of your skirts and stays, leaving you in only your chemise. Thankfully, you heard the rustle of sheets and blankets and could only pray that the Captain had done as you asked. Loud voices and heavy footfall sounded in the corridor outside your room and then the handle of your door rattled ominously.

“Hide your face and say not a word,” you hissed over your shoulder as you waited another moment, taking the opportunity to muss up your hair a little.

Once the rattling handle changed into the pounding of a fist you hurried over to the door and, with a deep breath, turned the latch and opened it a crack.

“What do you think you are doing here, you oaf, disturbing a lady at rest?” You raged, your breathy voice and flaming cheeks giving your ruse an added realism.

The militia man before you peered over your shoulder at the moving figure in your bed and then glanced down at your state of undress. His face flamed but he maintained his confidence, even in the face of your cold glare.

“We’ve heard tales of Englishmen in these parts, Mistress Galbraith. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Does it look like I know anything about any Englishmen, Willie Morris?” You said, opening the door just that little bit wider and gesturing inside so that he could see the distinctly male clothing on the floor.

“Who’s tha- I mean- I didn’t know you had taken another husband Ma’am,” Willie said, craning his neck to try and catch a glimpse of the man occupying your bed.

“What I do or don’t do is none of your concern. Now get out of here and make sure that the kitchen isn’t completely emptied by you and your scavenging companions,” you snarled, shutting the door in his face and fastening the latch.

You stood before the bedroom door with balled fists, vibrating with anxiety until the clatter of horses hooves sounded once more from the courtyard. As they died away a large hand landed gently on your shoulder and you turned and buried your face into the Captain’s warm chest. His arms wrapped around you, calming your nerves and he murmured words in praise of your bravery.

“I thought they would find you, John,” you whispered hoarsely. “I thought we were done for.”

“I’ve never met a soldier with such ingenuity as you,” he rumbled, his hand ghosting over the back of your head, clasping you to him as if you were his to protect.

You stayed that way, comforted in his embrace, until the sound of your brother’s voice startled you from your stupor. You opened your eyes to find yourself staring down at a pair of bare feet and legs covered only by the long tails of his linen shirt. It was then that you remembered your state of undress and you gasped, turning away from him with your face aflame.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked, moving to shrug back into your stays, resisting the urge to turn and stare, “but I would rather my honour be sullied than see your neck in a noose.”

You finished tying your skirts and slipped back into your boots before heading towards the door. As you reached for the handle so did John and your hands met awkwardly, causing you both to freeze. You looked up into the face you had grown so accustomed to in the candlelight of the parlour and drew in a shaky breath. His other hand reached out and grasped an errant strand of hair, holding it carefully, as if it were the most precious thing, and tucked it behind your ear. His fingers brushed over your cheek and along your jaw and his awed expression was one that you knew you would treasure for many a long year.

John parted his lips as if to speak but the door burst open and your brother appeared with Garrick and the Lieutenant; their relief at the sight of you was almost palpable.

“Where did you manage to hide?” Garrick asked, scanning the room.

“Under the bed frame,” you offered a little too quickly. “I convinced them I was changing the linens.”

Supper that evening was a little more raucous than usual. Even the stoic Lieutenant was into his cups and grinning along with the antics of the others, the tensions of the day obviously requiring some form of release. There were two who remained apart from the revelry, however. Seated at opposite sides of the dining table you tried to avoid paying any close attention to the Captain. Each time you caught his eye you were reminded of the warmth of his arms around you, of how tenderly he caressed your face…

You waved off any offers of help when clearing the table and tried to ignore John’s look of dismay when you announced you would be retiring straight to your chamber. Changing into your nightdress, you brushed out your hair and climbed beneath blankets and sheets that were still rumpled from your earlier escapade. You closed your eyes and tried to force sleep upon yourself but no amount of tossing and turning could find you comfortable enough. Thoughts ran rampant through your mind that you desperately tried to shut out; a gentle hand on your face, the rumbled vow of protection, the slight parting of lips that held words left unsaid.

Leaving the warmth of your bed you reached for the door handle but stopped, muttering curses to yourself as you paced nervously before your door. What would he have said if you hadn’t been interrupted? Your curiosity could wait no longer and you yanked on the door handle, pulling open the heavy wooden door and stepping out into the dimly lit hallway.

A movement at the other end drew your attention and you stilled, your heart pounding in your chest at the sight of the Captain, frozen just as you were, wearing only his shirt. He looked to be in as much disarray as you felt, his usually neat hair rumpled as if he had raked his hands through it a dozen times.

There was a moment of stillness and the world condensed into the space between you. Your chest heaved and your pulse fluttered wildly in your throat as the heat of his gaze fanned the flames of your own desire. He looked almost crazed as he stalked down the hallway towards you, his bare feet silent on the wooden boards, and you trembled with nervous anticipation.

He halted before you, a mere hair’s breadth away, his hands tensed at his sides as if he were desperately holding himself back.

“John,” you whispered, reaching for him and resting your hand over a heart that hammered as hard as your own.

It was enough to break the tenuous hold he had on himself. He cupped your cheek as his mouth crashed against yours with a desperate groan, the momentum carrying you backwards until you hit the doorframe with a soft huff of air. His other hand cradled the back of your head, making sure you were not harmed even in the throes of your passion. You wound your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, anchoring yourself to him as you gave in to your fervour.

Your bodies moulded together as if they had always done so and you threaded your fingers through his hair, moaning sweetly into his mouth as your kiss grew even more urgent. John’s hands slid down your body, tracing the outline of your curves through the thin linen of your chemise before coming to rest on your waist. A tightening of his fingers was the only indication he gave before he lifted you with ease. You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling him press against you as his lips left yours to trail hot kisses across your jaw and down the column of your throat, his beard scraping deliciously over your tender skin.

He broke away from you and rested his forehead against yours, both of you breathless and trembling.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing his lips reverently to your skin. “I shouldn’t have…I just could not…”

You tightened your legs around him, afraid that he might pull away and set you down and your actions caused him to squeeze his eyes shut and set his jaw as he tried to regain some vestige of self-control.

“No,” you said placing your hand on his cheek to force him to look at you, “John, please, don’t stop.”

His eyes fluttered open, meeting your gaze with a mixture of amazement and pure, unadulterated passion.

“Take me to bed,” you whispered, pulling his lips to yours once again.

Shifting his grip on you slightly he lifted you away from the door frame and carried you through into your chamber, fumbling blindly behind him until the latch was closed. By the depths of the desperation that you knew you both felt, you half-assumed he would toss you onto your bed but he did not. He crawled into the centre of the large oaken frame with you still in his arms and lay you down gently. It was only then that he broke away from you, his hands running down your sides almost reverently, skimming the edges of your breasts and across your hips as he sat back on his haunches.

John ran a hand over his face and he let out a huffed sigh of disbelief at the sight of you laid before him, your hair spread in a halo around your head. You lifted your hand and grasped the bottom of his shirt, pulling him down to you but the anticipated kiss did not come. His lips ghosted across your cheek, along your jaw, his beard leaving a tingling trail on your skin. You gathered more of the fabric into your hands and lifted, pulling the linen over his head with only a little assistance.

You let your hands wander down his defined chest, tracing the outline of his muscles and ran your fingers through the dark hair that decorated them before finding his face once more. His eyes never left yours, boring into you with such a passion as you had not felt in years and you almost squirmed beneath him as desire and impatience collided.

You felt his hand on your knee, firm yet gentle, gliding up over your soft skin and lifting your chemise with it. It was no effort at all for you to shuffle your hips and release the fabric from beneath you, allowing him to draw it over your head and bare yourself to him.

He whispered a curse, his eyes flying back to yours, the blue of his irises darkened to a storm-filled sky.

“Are you sure, my sweet heart?” He murmured thickly, scanning your face for any signs of discomfort.

“If you do not put your hands on me, John Price, I fear I will combust,” you replied breathily, raising your eyebrow in challenge.

Your words had the desired effect and his face brightened into a delicious smile.

“Well then, I mustn’t leave my woman wanting.” He smirked, leaning down and nuzzling into your neck.

“Say that again,” you breathed, arching into his touch.

“My woman,” he growled, nipping along your collarbone and when he slotted his lips against yours you met each tantalising stroke of his tongue with your own.

Your hands touched and explored every part of each other, ardently stoking the flames of your desire until they threatened to consume you both. Cupping your breasts in his large hands, calloused from years of toil with his regiment, John teased your nipples into firm peaks with his thumbs, sending a flash of heat straight to your core. You moaned into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip as you scraped your fingers down his spine before venturing even lower to squeeze the taut muscles of his arse.

Impatient and eager now to feel him inside you, you pulled away and scanned over his face. John looked as wild-eyed and breathless as you felt, his lips moist and kiss-swollen beneath his moustache. Gripping his hefty bicep you scooted backwards up the bed, pulling him half on top of you as you lay back and carded your fingers through his thick brown hair. He trailed his fingers over your soft belly and your hips, marvelling at the tingling goosebumps they left in their wake. The simple sensation of his warm skin against yours had you shivering with pleasure and, by the growing hardness that pressed enticingly against your thigh, you knew John felt the same.

You used the hand on his face to guide him back to you and he nudged his nose against yours with a smile of such heat and affection that it caused something to bloom to life in your chest. John’s hand trailed lower, closer to your core but he held your gaze almost in challenge, wanting to watch every nuance of expression on your face. He was not disappointed for, when his fingers slipped between your slick folds, your eyes widened and then grew heavy-lidded as he worked over your most sensitive spots, drawing out whimpers of pleasure from your lips.

Lowering his mouth to yours once more he rocked his hips against you in search of friction to soothe the ache in his cock. A gentle yet determined hand against his shoulder urged him to lay back and he went willingly, with your soft lips planting kisses over his jaw and down his neck. To his wonderment you moved your leg over his body and lifted yourself to sit astride his thick thighs. By his expression you thought he would have stared at you all night but his eyes fluttered closed and he groaned in pleasure as you took his cock in your hand, stroking his shaft in a tantalising rhythm.

Lifting yourself up onto your knees, you lined up the head of his cock with your entrance. John’s eyes flew open and he hissed out a curse as you began to lower yourself onto him. The delicious stretch as he filled you had you moaning salaciously and your head lolled back when you reached his base, stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Your name spilled from him in a cry of pleasure when you started to move atop him, circling your hips around as you raised them up and down. His hands gripped your waist, in truth to steady you both.

You gazed down at him, the candlelight reflecting in his eyes as you writhed above him. One of his hands left your waist, sliding down to tease the sensitive spot at the apex of your thighs, rubbing tight circles around it as you ground down harder against him. He bucked his hips, meeting you stroke for stroke, and planted his feet on the bed for extra purchase.

“Yes, John, yes” you gasped, gripping his thighs, your fingers leaving indentations in the hard muscles.

Your brows drew together as you began to lose yourself to the sensations running through you and your movements became almost frantic. He reached up to caress your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and finger, matching the rhythm of his hand between your legs and it was that which sent you over the edge of your pleasure.

Biting his cheek to stave off his own pleasure for a few short moments, John slowed his thrusts and eased you through your climax before pulling away just in time to spill his release over his abdomen with your name on his lips like a prayer.

You collapsed to the side of him with a breathless giggle, reaching behind you to pass him a crumpled shirt to wipe himself with. Nuzzling into the crook of his arm, you could feel John’s heart beating as rapidly as yours. He squeezed you tighter for a moment before loosening his hold to pull out the blankets from beneath you and covered you both. He wrapped you in his arms once more and pressed a kiss against your damp forehead.

“Have no fear, I shall sneak out afore morning,” John murmured softly. “But I would beg a few more sweet moments with you until then.”

“As lady of this house, Captain, I do declare that there will be no sneaking.” You poked his ribs playfully, earning yourself a deep chuckle. “I take no shame from this, mo cridhe, and any who say otherwise will not be welcome here.”

“No sneaking then, sweet heart,” he said, with a kiss so soft and gentle that your heart ached. “I could dream of no greater honour than to stand by your side, if you so wished.”

“I wish it,” you whispered, sinking blissfully into the arms of your English Captain.