Aug 11, 2021
Chapter 7: Practice Swing
Let's go camping!
Read chapter 7 here on AO3.
Read starting from the beginning here.
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Chapter 7: Practice Swing
Let's go camping!
Read chapter 7 here on AO3.
Read starting from the beginning here.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Big Cats Like Bones Too - Chapter 20 - Kertneyk - Undertale (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
You talk with Gerson, who was less than impressed with your performance on Tuesday. Then on Friday you meet up with Sans again. Will you make peace with your antagonistic roommate?
Trigger Warning: vomit
The Midwife
AO3 :: Previously
XIV
The Seine ran smoothly beneath the Pont Neuf. Jamie and I stood upon it, holding each other’s hands. I was still in my grubby work dress, a homespun cloak on my shoulders to ward off the chill. Jamie was much more handsomely attired, having been provided with a Fraser tartan kilt by his uncle.
Jamie’s uncle had apologized for not being able to procure a suitable dress for me to be wed in, on such short notice. He may not have approved of our hasty union, but he made clear that it had nothing to do with me personally. He had kissed my cheek and embraced me as his niece, and wished us every happiness. He was justifiably worried about our reception at Leoch as a married couple, now for my sake as much as Jamie’s. So with Jared as our witness, we exchanged vows.
“Mo nighean donn, repeat after me.” Jamie pulled a small sgian dubh from his sporran. He hesitated as he turned my arm to expose my wrist, but I nodded encouragingly. He made a small cut, and proceeded to slit his own skin open. Pressing our wrists together, Jared stepped forward to tie them with strip of linen.
Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone, I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One. I give ye my Spirit, 'til our Life shall be Done.
My heart pounded as I said the words that bound us as husband and wife. Jamie’s gaze upon me made me forget my heartache, all my worries and cares. Gently, he untied our wrists. He pulled the silver ring from my right hand and placed it on my left with a kiss on it. “I’m sorry we canna be wed in a church proper. I wanted to do better by ye,” Jamie said softly.
“I love you, James Fraser. That’s all that matters.” He smiled, and laid his hand on my waist, tugging me closer. The wind off the river was cold, whipping our hair across our faces.
“Sassenach.” His voice was guttural with need as he gripped me with restraint. We kissed, our lips cold but our mouths warm, until we forgot where we were. I finally pulled away from him, breathless.
“You’re mine,” I whispered, my arms around his broad shoulders. Our foreheads touched; we breathed each other’s air, oblivious to the world, until Jared cleared his throat and broke through our reverie.
“Jamie, it’s time.”
The three of us made our way back to Jared’s house in his coach. Jamie and I sat in silence next to each other, holding hands. He squeezed my hand gently as I gripped his arm tightly, nerves racing through me.
To make the handfasting valid, like any other marriage, it must be consummated.
I knew the mechanics, of course. Maman had been thorough in her explanations, and as a midwife, there was little I didn’t know about. But the difference between knowing and doing was vast, a chasm I hadn’t thought about crossing—until I met Jamie.
We arrived at Jared’s beautiful house on Rue Tremoulins; I was assisted out of the carriage by Jamie and ushered past a lineup of servants who were waiting for us. The house was just as lovely on the inside, rich with brocades and glinting carved wood. I held onto Jamie’s hand as we trailed up a curved staircase to the family rooms. Jared walked before us and led us to a room just off the dark hallway.
“James…”
“Uncle, dinna fash. ‘Twill be alright.” Jamie took the wavering candelabra Jared had used to light our path. With a pat on the shoulder, Jared went off, and Jamie stepped inside the room, gesturing for me to enter as well.
The flickering candles illuminated the fine furniture and tapestries on the walls. But what occupied my thoughts first and foremost was the large canopied bed. The room was cold, but Jamie set about lighting a fire in the grate. He was skilled with a flint, and soon flames danced merrily and cast a golden glow across our faces.
We had been completely silent, offering small smiles to each other. Now Jamie approached me, rubbing my arms through the cloak.
“Are ye warm enough, mo nighean donn?”
“I suppose.” My voice quivered, and I hated myself for it. This was Jamie, my husband, my love. I wanted him, wanted this, so much. He must have noticed how nervous I was because he pulled me closer in an embrace.
“What is it, Claire?” Jamie asked.
“’Tis only… I’ve never…” A blush crept up my neck.
“Och lass, if it helps, I’ve never… either.” Jamie gave me a sheepish smile and a similar flush tinted his cheeks.
“You haven’t?” After Maman’s explanations and what I knew of the nature of men, I hadn’t expected Jamie to have remained a virgin. He was after all, a very attractive male who could probably charm the very birds from the trees. To have him be as inexperienced as me, was a revelation.
“Truly, no. I suppose neither of us kens what we’re doing. I grew up on a farm, and I know of it, of course, but I expect between a woman and a man, ‘tis rather different, no?” Jamie ruffled up the back of his hair self-consciously.
“Aye, I ken,” I replied, imitating his soft Scots burr and making him laugh; some of the tension broke. A knock at the door interrupted us, and the butler who introduced himself as Magnus, laid a tray with supper on a small side table. He let himself out with a bow, and the door clicked shut behind him with a finality that cast a shiver up my back.
“Let’s have a bite, Sassenach. We’ll no be this well-fed on our travels to Scotland.”
Delicately braised meat and vegetables, along with one of Jared’s most superb wines, made up the meal. I managed no more than a few morsels, nerves making my stomach twist. As Jamie poured the last drops of the bottle, they returned in full force.
“Here, Sassenach.” He patted his knee and I slid over to sit on his lap, draining my glass. He put his arms about my waist, fingers tapping out a quiet beat on the whalebone of my stays. “’Tis easier when we touch, no?”
The crackling of the fire was the only sound in the room, except for our breathing. The staccato rhythm of Jamie’s fingers became a caress, and I tried to reciprocate, running my fingers through his red curls.
“I love your hair,” I said nonsensically, admiring the different hues of auburn and roan.
“And I love yours, lass. Like the water in a burn, the way it ruffles down the rocks…” he trailed off, his fingers now on the back of my neck. I leaned in and kissed him, tasting of the sweet wine we had shared.
Jamie returned the kiss enthusiastically, rising from the chair and setting me on my feet. I stood on my toes, striving to reach his mouth. He clasped me to him, hands bunching my dress and shift at my hips.
I broke away from Jamie, gasping for breath. “Perhaps we should go to bed.”
“To bed, or to sleep?” Jamie dropped the fabric of my clothes, also trying to control his breathing.
“Either way, I’m not likely to do it in this dress. Would you…” I placed his hands on my laces, and watched amused as he fumbled trying to untie them. He slipped the cord through the last eyelet, leaving me in my skirt and shift. I kicked off my shoes and stockings, and shimmied out of the skirt, and it lay puddled on the floor at my feet.
I had never been so undressed in front of a man before—and there was still my shift between us. Heat stained my cheeks, and I looked at my feet, embarrassed. Jamie lifted my face with a finger on my chin, and blue met amber.
“Fair’s fair, lass. Help me take off mine as well.”
The kilt and its belt slid down his legs, boots cast aside. Jamie’s shirt reached to mid-thigh, and I could not look away from the way the firelight burnished the curly hair on his thighs to pure gold. It was an odd sight, and although I had seen men completely naked as a healer, those had just been bodies that needed tending. Jamie’s body was a very different thing. Toned with muscle, lithe as a cat, brown in places and milk white in others…
“Before we—I think I should tell ye, the lashes ye healed, they… there are scars on my back.” His voice was shy and hesitant, and I reached out to touch his cheek in encouragement.
In one swift motion, Jamie pulled his shirt over his head. He stood bare before me, his eyes burning intensely. I didn’t dare look down, not quite yet. I trailed my fingertips over the raised bones of his collar, walking around him, touching the roped muscles of his shoulders. The marks on his back rose in ridges, still pink instead of the white of old wounds. Heat coursed through me in flashes of want and need.
Facing Jamie again, he reached over and took the ribbon that held my shift up. He waited until I nodded, and he undid the bow with a tug. The fabric loosened over my shoulders, slipping off. As the material pooled on my feet, I was seconds away from covering myself with my hands and turning away from Jamie, but he sensed it; he removed the pins from my hair so it fell in a mad riot framing my face.
“Ye are so beautiful.” His breathless reassurance made me smile, giving me much-needed confidence, and I stepped closer to him, enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. “I want ye so much I can scarcely breathe.”
“Have you never seen a naked woman before?”
“Yes, but no so close,” Jamie smiled, his eyes raking over me with a hunger matched by my own. “And no one that’s mine.” Hesitantly, he touched my breast, kneading it gently. It was as though I felt his touch somewhere lower, tingling; I reciprocated, his pectorals shifting.
Jamie kissed me, his tongue exploring my mouth. His hands roved all over my skin, leaving fire wherever they went. Finally, he lifted me off my feet, his lips still on mine. He laid me on the bed, where I scooted back until I reached the pillows. Jamie climbed onto the bed, sidling next to me. We lay skin to skin, all wandering caresses. Timidly, I touched below his navel, fingers hesitant. Jamie made a soft noise of encouragement (or possibly excitement) and I felt the tip of his member against my fingertips. I glanced, finally, committing all of his wondrous body to memory. His cock was silky smooth, and very warm. Emboldened by the sounds emanating from Jamie’s mouth, I grasped it fully in my hand.
Jamie showed me how to move my hand, up and down, sometimes twisting slowly. His frenzied pants in my ear, I could not have predicted how much I would enjoy making him feel this way. Eventually he gripped my hand and bade me stop.
“Sassenach, wait.” I immediately released him, pressing the lines of my body urgently against his.
“Now?” I asked, my arms around his back and attempting to pull him on top of me. I trembled at the thought of him inside me, joined like infinity.
“No, mo chridhe. Not yet.” Jamie removed my hands from his back and laid them next to my head, our fingers intertwining. He kissed me deeply, thoroughly, and slowly started making his way down my body. He paid attention to my neck, with small nips that elicited sounds I’d never made before. He sucked on my breasts, teasing and licking until my nipples stood out as big as cherries. He released my hands and I immediately tangled them in his curly mop of hair, and Jamie continued his downward trajectory, tickling my ribs until he stopped, grazing my hipbones with his tongue. I squirmed beneath him, my body demanding more with a fierce ache and pulsing between my legs.
“May I touch ye? Here?” Jamie’s fingers grazed the most intimate part of me. My legs seemed to part of their own accord; almost twenty years of propriety were no match for thousands of years of instinct. He slid a finger in slowly, and I could tell I was slick with arousal. He teased and nudged further inside. I heard a low keening sound and then realized it was coming from me.
I put both my hands over my mouth as my back bowed slightly off the bed. Jamie ceased his ministrations and gently pried my hands off my face. “No, Sassenach, I want to hear ye—every sound, every cry, is mine, do ye understand?” His lips on mine swallowed another moan as he parted my thighs further, settling between them. I could feel his hard, swollen member, straining at attention. I ventured another glance downward; I didn’t think that would fit in me.
“Jamie…” I felt his heart pound through his ribcage, beating in unison with mine.
“Tell me if I’m too rough,” he whispered, “or tell me to stop altogether, if ye wish.” He kissed me deeply as he pressed forward, with unerring aim and our bodies joined. I felt a stinging pressure as he advanced, an intruder of sorts that my body resisted. I willed myself to relax, even as Jamie held me close and I felt myself being stretched wide. There was a flash of brief pain and I couldn’t help but whimper a bit. Jamie immediately stopped and soothed me with gentle Gaelic words that I couldn’t understand.
After a moment or two, I pressed my hands to his back as a sign for him to continue, the scars ridged under my fingers. His hips met mine as he buried himself to the hilt, and slowly withdrew, before sliding in again, exquisitely and unhurriedly. I knew this was for my benefit; there was a hidden urgency to his motions, a power held in check, that I imagined would be unleashed once our bodies grew more comfortable with each other.
I met his eyes, and saw nothing in them but tenderness and joy. I trailed my fingernails up his flank, hoping to leave red lines to mark him as mine. Jamie responded by gripping my buttocks and changing the angle of penetration. In an instant I felt a flare of tingling pleasure, despite the discomfort, and again and again, a feeling that slowly increased and I began to understand what all the fuss about lovemaking was about.
“Sassenach… Claire…” Jamie called out my name between breaths. “I… dinna think… I can…”
“Don’t stop,” I said, gripping his backside and striving to get even closer. I felt Jamie shudder, his hips surging against mine as he spilled himself inside me. I watched his face, his eyes screwed shut and mouth agape, until it relaxed and his eyes opened, gazing into mine with love and wonder.
“I’m sorry, mo nighean donn.” He kissed my mouth over and over, our legs untangling as he withdrew. His warm hand lay across my stomach. “Bha mi a 'smaoineachadh gu robh mo chridhe a' dol a bhriseadh.”
“What is that?”
“I said, I thought my heart was going to burst.” Jamie’s hand caressed my face. “Was it alright for ye? Did I hurt ye?”
“No, you didn’t hurt me.” I was somewhat sore, but I supposed that was to be expected for our first time. It wasn’t entirely disagreeable; it was a reminder of what had transpired between us. We were now truly husband and wife.
“I’m sorry ye didn’t—I mean, that I didn’t… well, Sassenach, was it… pleasurable, for ye?”
“A little.” I planted a kiss on his long nose, and held him close. I could feel dampness between my legs, but was too lazy and comfortable to do anything about it. “We’ll just have to practice some more.” I tugged at the eiderdown comforter, wanting to get beneath the covers. After our exertions, the chill of the room had only dissipated slightly with the fire.
Jamie wrapped his arms around me, his body cocooning mine and radiating natural warmth like a small brazier. He brushed my hair aside, placing soft kisses on the nape of my neck. “Tomorrow, Sassenach, we’ll go to l’Hôpital des Anges. I shall speak to Mother Hildegarde, while ye gather yer belongings. I apologize, mo nighean donn, from taking ye away from yer life’s work.”
“I’ll still have it, James Fraser. Wherever you are, that’s were my life will be.” I had not thought I needed to hear it, but having him speak his regrets about upending our previous plans loosened something within, a modicum of peace and reassurance settling in my chest. “About Malva—”
“Dinna be afraid, there’s the two of us now.” Jamie curled his legs behind mine, fitting perfectly like two spoons nestled in a drawer. “I will not let her harm ye, and I live.”
I still worried though, about our imminent journey and how we should be received by his family in Scotland, and about leaving the life I knew behind. But before I realized it, I fell asleep in his arms, lulled by his Gaidhlig whispers and the knowledge that we belonged irrevocably to each other.
An Angel’s Tears
Chapter Nine: Trust
I do NOT own TOME or it's characters.
Okay this isn’t the best chapter in the world, but you guys have waited long enough!